#depends on whether my dad decides to sleep or not

[turtlecleric]

(re: the tags of your rb of that "sitting here. unkissed." textpost) can you tell us how you think they would react to you saying that? :3

Lucky you nonnie, I couldn't sleep and was able to work on this while I waited for my alarm to go off

For full context:

Dearest @yorshie tackled this with the Bayverse boys. Highly recommend reading that. I'll take a swing at the Rise boys, though I do think their reactions would heavily depend on their mood at the time, what the two of you are doing, whether other people are around, etc. I'm imagining you on the couch in the lair, with your boy sitting nearby. Also. Don't expect much, I got about 5 hours of sleep lol

Leo

As soon as you say it he's whipping his head in your direction. A little surprised, a little excited, and a lot soft - because sometimes he feels like he's too much. Sometimes he gets that little voice in the back of his head saying that you're going to get tired of him, that you'll start to find him annoying, that he's too much, too much, always too much. But here you are. Asking him - in your silly dramatic way that he loves - for his attention. So he moves to kiss you, smiling the entire time, heart so full it feels like it might burst, and when he pulls back and you smile back at him, that voice in his head is a little quieter. (It feels inevitable to me that he eventually ends up on top of you, kissing you stupid, hands eagerly roaming all over. When he smells your arousal, he's quick to suggest that you move this into his bedroom.)

Raph

I like to imagine that Raph is a little shy in front of other people. If his brothers are in the room, I could see him blushing furiously and giving you a quick peck (if anyone says anything to tease him, he'd get really defensive and it would be ADORABLE). If Splinter is around he'd give you a look of alarm - babe PLEASE my dad is RIGHT THERE. But if you're alone... he'd smile and scoop you into his arms (picking you up like it's nothing) and kiss you sweetly. If things start to get heated, he'll stop. If you whine about it, he'll timidly suggest going to his room. (And once you're truly in private he'll let himself get lost in the feeling of your lips on his. Letting you decide the pace, letting you lead, but enthusiastically giving you whatever you want.)

Donnie

"Mm. A tragedy, really. You have my pity."

When you whine his name he finally looks at you and smirks. Reaches for you and pulls you into his lap, studies your expression closely. Holds your chin and leans in to kiss you slowly, deeply. When he pulls back, seeing you flushed and a little dazed, his smirk widens.

"Better?"

You nod, and he hums. The smirk falls as he stares at your lips, and you can't help but squeak when suddenly he's carrying you to the lab. When he sits you on a table and tells Shelldon not to let anyone in, your heart does something funny in your chest. He's standing between your legs, staring, staring, staring while the lab goes into lockdown.

"Donnie, I-"

That's all you can say before he dives back in. Kissing you like he's starving for it as his hands grip your waist, your thighs. You're already wet when he pulls your pants and underwear off and kneels between your legs. When he slips his tongue inside of you and you whimper, you swear you can feel him smirking again.

Mikey

He gasps dramatically, absolutely BEAMING, and jumps on you. Presses his forehead against yours, and says, "I can fix that." Kisses you once, twice, three times on the lips. Then moves to your neck, making you giggle as he presses more quick kisses to your skin and nuzzles into you. Depending on how you react, he might just pull you into his lap to snuggle, randomly kissing the top of your head or your nose and making you giggle. Or. He might get a mischievous grin and ask if there's anything else you'd like him to fix.

#asks #turtlecleric scrolls #rise!leo #rise!raph #rise!donnie #rise!mikey #this isn't long enough to tag people in so #anyway

[starry-bi-sky]

more cfau miscellaneous things because Childhood Friends Danny and Jason have my head and heart always and I need to finish rewriting chapter two dammit (and redo the half-finished chapter 4 because its just Not The Vibes). i'm almost through I need to get through the graveyard scene. (i just stubbornly refuse to have it be shorter than the original chapter and thats the little death. that is the mind killer.)

Danny and jason’s ghost forms both smell faintly like burnt flesh and cigarettes. However, Jason has a more smokey smell while Danny’s smells almost,,, electrical? In a sense? Like he just straight up smells like burnt flesh and sulphur while Jason smells like someone put him in a smoker first.

It’s very much an unpleasant smell but Danny finds an odd comfort in it just as much as he finds a comfort in the smell of nicotine.

(Jason post-revival smells burnt flesh once and is immediately offput by the fact that it brings him an instinctive comfort. He doesn’t realize its because it reminds him of Danny, and is uncomfortable by it.)

-

In an au of an au, Danny’s altercation with Rath ends with Rath regaining enough of his sanity to snap out of the grieving state and ends with him breaking down. Instead of being souped and imprisoned, Rath, who is permanently 14, decides to Move On into the unknown. He’s exhausted, heartbroken, and tired.

(Is this influenced heavily by the ParaNorman scene where he talks to Agatha and helps her move on? Yes. But it doesn’t fit with the Original Storyline so im shoving it into an Au of an Au.)

Rath tells Danny that Jason lied to them (which he genuinely believes), and that he’s tired of waiting/looking for him/grieving. Jason is gone. He isn’t coming back, he abandoned them. And he wants his mom and dad, and his sister, and his friends. And he’s ready to join them.

He leads Danny out to Gotham, which other than Amity Park might’ve been the only city left untouched due to Rath’s own mental block on the place. They go out to the park he and Jason used to frequent or up to one of crime alley’s rooftops, and there Rath lies down and goes to sleep. Only to never wake up again, materializing into nothing as his soul moves on.

Before Rath leaves, he forces Danny to promise him that he’ll only wait for Jason for ten years. After that if he doesn’t find him, or if Jason doesn’t show, then Danny has to move on. Whether that be like how Rath does, or if its inly mentally/emotionally, doesn’t matter. He has to move on. Don’t wait for him. Don’t waste his time any more.

(“Oh, and if you find him, kick his ass for me.”)

Danny reluctantly agrees, and Rath lies down. Danny sings to him as he falls asleep.

(Angsty points if the vigilantes including Red Hood caught wind of their presence and were silently watching from the shadows. Rath might know they’re there, but Danny’s too focused on Rath to notice.)

(If only so that Red Hood realizes that this is what happened to Danny, and that Danny is gone before he can make things right. The tragedy, folks. The angst. The initial realization that Danny was Rath, and then also that Danny was dead and has been dead for years, and that before he moved on, he moved on believing that Jason abandoned him.)

(like i said it doesn't fit in the original timeline/storyline hence why its an au of an au and isn't nearly a fleshed out, but i was largely just focusing on the tragedy of Rath moving on and Jason being alive to see it and realize just who Rath is.)

-

Just like how the Lazarus pits shot Jason's twiggy 4'6-5'4 (depending on what you find) feet tall and 86lb ass up like a tree an essentially fixed his malnutrition, the portal did the same thing for Danny.

(granted i forgot about malnutrition and danny's likely stunted growth at first -- his family lived in crime alley and despite both his parents working, I don't think they had enough food all the time. He probably wasn't as badly malnourished as Jason was, but he wasn't healthy either.)

Granted his ghost in its "natural" state (14) is short, and his growth spurts were slow at first, it did result in him reaching his dad's height. There were points where it just happened overnight, like a baby. He went to bed one night 5’6 and woke up the next day 5’10.

Jazz is shorter than him. Although I have't decided if she's even liminal at all (and if she is, it didn't cure everything because she would have also suffered childhood malnutrition, and since in au canon their parents didn't get their hands on physical ectoplasm until after they got to Amity Park. So the exposure is less.)

-

Danny's voice absolutely sounds like canon Dan's. It kinda just dropped one day when he was 16-17 and never went back up. Sam and Tucker sometimes ask him to just talk about anything because they find his voice soothing.

I'm not sure yet how Danny would feel about it at first considering Rath, but I imagine that Rath, when he did speak, would have had a quieter and scratchier/weaker voice considering he's spent the last decade shrieking and crying.

(and i suppose technically that shouldn't have any effect on his throat considering he's a ghost and idk if that would actually affect him, but i like the idea so im keeping it)

In the beginning you could hear him from a mile away by the sound of his loud, echoing wails, but ten years later you can only really hear him by the soft, shuddering sobs he makes. Like he's gasping for air that isn't there. The future is full of very quiet survivors.

And it's much easier to speak when you pitch your voice upwards (especially when whispering/speaking quietly) so he might've spoken in a higher, airy pitch in order to be heard. So Danny might actually find a comfort in having a lower voice.

#tw mentions of gore #cw gore #i suppose this counts as gore #dp x dc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc #dpxdc crossover #childhood friends au #cfau #really leaning into the idea of rath just being a horror. the horrors! i am delighted in the horrors! #im having fun with it #i swear to god turning 19 turned a switch on in my brain because i am much more comfortable with gore and heavy injury now than i was l #literally a year ago. the urge to write about some of danny's most horrific injuries in his fights is STRONG #like the hORRORS folks. *th horrors*. i dont think i'll ever write a dissection fic because that icks me out but the idea that danny's had #to stitch up his own throat because it got slit in a fight nd he cant shift back to human until he's done because his ghost will survive bu #his body wont #the idea that he's been impaled multiple times before and it hurts each fucking time but he still gets up and hurls the hurt right back in #equal measure. because that's how you wanna play? okay. lets play. he's 14 and his best friend is dead. he can play. #and the idea that all ghosts have 'corpse' forms where their ghosts look exactly like how they died. and danny is utterly unrecognizable #jazz being liminal or not just isnt important to me because she's barely gonna show up in the story anyways #same reason why i hardly use the headcanon that ellie becomes danny's daughter because what use is she to me like that? she'll hardly have #an impact on the story and i refuse to treat characters like props. if they can't help progress the story then they aren't included

[putnamcapital]

Deep dive wondering about Sara's backstory (CW: drug / alcohol abuse) (Part 2)

CW Drug & Alcohol abuse by a parent

This is part 2 of a post about trying to figure out Sara's motivations and actions and how they are influenced by being raised in a home with a drug/alcohol dependent parent. Feedback / thoughts very much welcome.

Watching: Frida Argento is an incredible actor, and people often talk about how expressive she is with her eyes. This is partly her, and partly her character: Sara sees EVERYTHING. There are numerous points in the story line where it is literally only us, the viewer, and Sara, who know everything. She sees August upload the video, she sees Stella’s crush on Fredrika, she sees Wille hold Simon’s little finger in the movie theatre, she sees through Simon’s smile the morning after when they’re waiting for class to start. The only thing she doesn’t know in the gun scene at the end of S2 is that Simon gave August the drugs to sell. I could go on. She is -literally- the eyes on this world. And she says almost nothing, until she decides to confront someone (i.e. asking Stella about her crush / asking Simon why he didn’t sleep at home). This is a kind of vigilance you learn when your home is unstable and unpredictable. You learn to watch everyone for clues as to What Is Really Going On Here, so that you might have some hope of anticipating when all hell will break loose. People with drug and alcohol problems are sober a lot of the time, and they might even have various modes of being drunk or high. You learn to put a lot of store in feeling you might be able to predict when the mood will change. If you’re a kid, trying to read these signs gives you a feeling of power in a situation where you are utterly powerless. Everything - the way someone’s lips narrow, a clench of the jaw, the music they’re playing, anything - it becomes a possible sign of the atmosphere being about the change for the worse. Vigilance becomes a way of trying to experience safety. And for Sara, the fact that she does see so much ends up giving her a trump card - the ability to turn August in - in other words, the power she never had at home to finally do something about the bad actor.

Attachment: Sara was bullied at Marieberg. She knows she’s different, and she believes people don’t like her. When Felice does allow her into this secret garden called friendship, she is elated, but also insecure. For example, she gets worried when Felice and Wille become closer in S2, and asks Felice to reassure her about whether they are ‘besties’ still, and Felice says, oh you silly goose, a person can have more than one bestie. But for Sara, the love she shares with others feels intrinsically insecure and conditional: as in, people love her because of a certain tacit deal they’ve struck. This is why she is not just angry when Felice condones selling Rousseau - she is far deeply hurt, it is a betrayal of the highest order, she says she doesn’t even know who Felice is really. It all suggests a world where Sara didn’t experience love as unconditional - instead it was transactional. It’s the kind of backwards-emotional-math that kids can do to try to explain a situation that hurts but is the only thing you know — Dad is drunk again today, it must be something I did wrong; Dad is not drunk today, it must be something I did right; if Dad is drunk he’s not really him and he can’t love me as a parent; ergo, my behavior is the token that gets exchanged back and forth between us that can turn love on or off. Love is never there all the time, it can be withheld based on conduct, and people can be so radically not themselves that it makes the love they profess fake.

Her relationship with August: I think Sara unconsciously falls for August because he is a copy of her father, and she is using him to work out the trauma and disempowerment of growing up with Micke. August is a better version of Micke and, even better, one Sara believes she can control and help. As an additional extra-credit, it turns out he really loves her - in his fucked up way - which is more than Sara believes about her own father. Like Micke, August is drug-dependent. But unlike Micke, he seems to be successful and, until she gets to know him, he seems to have his shit together. It seems like he is powerful: after all, he gets her what she wants - a place at Manor House. Sara is initially uncomfortable about the pills - she confronts August about it. But then August assures her that it’s “only when he needs to perform” and that’s probably all she dreamt of hearing from her father when she was a child. August is the fairy tale prince: an addict who in fact has it under control, an addict who can actually love her. And unlike her father, he is an addict she can help (overcoming a lifetime of powerlessness for her). In fact, the thing that actually kickstarts their relationship is her getting off (literally) on the high of being able to help August when he was having a panic attack. Then, when everything goes overboard, she explains her actions in the way she learned at home: she says she was in love, and she didn’t really know what she was doing, she was not in her right mind … she was, in other words, … drunk / high … but on love. And this explanation is somehow a mitigation for her actions. She can’t be blamed for something she can’t control - which most addicts believe at some point.

#sara eriksson #simon eriksson #young royals #young royals analysis #micke eriksson #alcohol abuse #substance abuse

[the-au-thor]

Little Witch | Chapter 3

A/N: A chill one. We dive into Spencer's friends and his relationship with reader getting closer. Matilda is being a mini Spencer! If you want to be added to some tag list or want to scream at my face, go ahead and tell! ILY

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female reader

Words: 3.5 k

Warning: read it here!

Taglist: @cultish-corner

⇜ ⇝

"I missed you both..."

Chapter 3

You didn't expect to visit the BAU again. It's not that you didn't want to, but it wasn't your place; everything was too neat and immaculate—neutral colors, nothing flashy or sentimental. That changed when Penelope offered to give you a tour of the Behavioral Analysis Unit. She had been persuasive with an invitation to "have a cup of tea" the night before. Unexpectedly, you found yourself having tea in the place where Spencer worked on a day when no one should be in the office.

"I feel sorry this isn't in a cafe. I would have loved to invite you to my favorite place, but I'm a bit tied up here now," Penelope apologized.

"Doesn't it scare you?" you asked as she guided you to the office where she was temporarily staying. Something about some very dangerous serial killlers (yes, more than one) wanting her dead .

"A little. I hate being in hiding, and I hate even more that someone out there wants to kill me," she responded, her face showing terror. "I miss Sergio, my cat, and my plants a lot"

You entered the office and realized that the BAU's aesthetics had gone out the window in Penelope's temporary dwelling. Flowers adorned every corner, cartoon figures and stuffed animals were everywhere, and there was even a small stove.

"You've certainly made the place cozy," you added with a reassuring smile, placing your hand on Matilda, who was peacefully sleeping in your arms. "Do you think I can leave her on your sofa?" you asked, and Penelope quickly made space for Matilda, who stretched a bit and settled on the sofa to continue sleeping.

Penelope watched her with amazement. "She's so cute. She has your mouth and Spencer's eyes, it's amazing"

You half-smiled at her comment, raising an eyebrow with curiosity.

"You know Matilda is Spencer and my twin's daughter , right?"

Penelope nodded slowly, approaching a small coffee maker and turning it on.

"I know. Spence told me, but if she's your twin, Matilda will resemble you, won't she?" She shrugged as if it were straightforward. "You're her mom, and that brings me to why I invited you here while Spencer is away and can't stop me from doing it" she added.

"I thought you just wanted to get to know me," you said.

Pen nodded. "I do, but I also want to make sure you—.... I need to make sure you know you can count on us. I need to know that you understand Spencer is possibly the best choice to be someone's dad, right?"

You blinked, terribly confused, and stopped her. "Why do you think I wouldn't understand that?" you furrowed your brow.

"It's just that... I know the job he has can be terrifying at times, and I know the hours he puts in aren't exactly office hours, but I know he'll do an excellent job," she paused again nervously. "I'm overstepping, aren't I? Did I overstep? I'm sorry; I just really want Matilda to always have Spencer by her side."

You observed her carefully, feeling somewhat disoriented. You were certain that this meeting with Penelope hadn't been orchestrated by Spencer. Her feelings seemed genuine and honest. You decided to be diplomatic until the ice broke and tension left the table.

"It's okay," you murmured in response, taking a deep breath before speaking again. "I understand what you mean, but you have to know this: whether Matilda always has her dad around will depend on Spencer. I will never interfere in the relationship she has with her dad," you asserted with determination. Penelope's eyes gleamed with joy, and your words seemed to have a soothing effect on her.

Suddenly, her whole body seemed relaxed, and she smiled from ear to ear. "Is it true?" she asked in a hushed voice.

You nodded, giving a half-smile. "It's true."

She reached for your hands, holding them firmly and letting out a joyful squeal.

"That's fantastic! You have no idea the relief I feel now. Because I've known Spencer since he was 23, and he's one of the most amazing people I know. He's been through so much, and you probably don't know, but I've never seen him smile like when he talks about Matilda," she seemed to defend her point again, but this time more calmly. She released your hands slowly when the coffee maker was already working and served both of you steaming cups of coffee adorned with small marshmallows.

They sat at the small table Penelope had there and continued the conversation, this time with a more relaxed and familiar tone.

"We didn't talk much, Mela and I, but we certainly saw each other more often than our parents visited her. She was... a bit lost, and I was just starting to work as a primary school teacher. It was hard, and with the time Matilda came into the picture; we were so excited," you admitted to Penelope's enthusiastic smile.

"Can I ask... did you know you would take care of her in case... you know?" she asked somewhat hesitantly.

"Yes," you nodded in response. "Mela had said it. Although I never wanted something like that to happen, the prospect of having a daughter was certainly not a problem. I've always wanted to be a mom," you admitted.

Penelope took one of her homemade cookies to her mouth and, after eating, jumped to the next question. "And what about you? Have you never thought about starting a family?"

"I have," you admitted honestly without thinking too much. They were already there talking, right? It's not like this was going to end soon, and Penelope had gained your trust very quickly. "I had a boyfriend for many years; I thought I would start a family with him, but we eventually broke up when Mela died."

"Meaning there's no guy in your life right now?" She smiled.

It wasn't easy, with a life like yours—not that other people's lives were less challenging, but dating someone right now wasn't a priority on your list.

"No. There isn't," you half-smiled.

"It means that when you're not working, you're with Matilda," Penelope reasoned, somewhat surprised. "When was the last time you went out with a friend for coffee?"

You leaned back in the chair and sighed resignedly.

"The truth is, I haven't done it in a year," you admitted, making her open her mouth in amazement.

"Oh, sweetheart. You need to be part of our girls' nights. That happens when there are no cases, so Spencer can be with Matilda, and you come with us. My tequila Margarita is legendary, do you like margaritas?"

"I love tequila margarita," you smiled excitedly as Penelope reached out and took your hand.

"It's a deal!" she declared. "I'll call you when we have a day, and you must come, okay?"

You nodded, and with her face adorned by a smile, she took your hand, gave it a gentle squeeze, and then let go.

"Do you think you can leave here soon?" you asked, changing the subject a bit.

"Well," Penelope lowered her eyes to her cup and then looked at you with a hint of concern in her eyes. "Now that Spencer's here, maybe we'll work much faster. We're getting close to solving everything," she added.

You leaned back in your chair and finished your coffee. "You'll make it, and you'll be back home with your cat very soon, I know. You guys are the best in your field, and that's saying a lot," you tried to encourage her.

"I know," she sighed, distressed. "And that's the only thing that helps me sleep at night."

"Just have a little patience; I know everything will be fine."

Penelope was fantastic, and you had to admit that the three hours spent talking and drinking coffee flew by like a kite. She was interesting and admirable, and although your tendency to solitude wanted to discourage you, you were curious to meet the rest of Spencer's colleagues. You were reassured because they were the kind of people you would want Matilda to be around and see as an example.

"Is Spencer coming back today?" Penelope asked as you stood up to put on your jacket and wake up Matilda from her long nap.

"Yes, I'll take her to his house today so they can spend the weekend together," you explained. "They haven't seen each other in many days, and this little girl already misses him a lot, right?" you asked Matilda, who was starting to get up from the sofa with rosy cheeks and a bit of hair stuck to her face due to sweat.

Matilda opened and closed her eyes slowly and then yawned, a clear sign for Penelope to approach her and take her in her arms.

"It's okay, little doll, you'll go home soon," she cradled her in her arms, and you saw Matilda rest her face on Penelope's neck, causing her face to contract in a gesture of tenderness. She looked at you through her glasses with concern. "Did you say you came by subway?"

"Yes; I have my car in maintenance, they'll deliver it to me tomorrow morning."

Penelope jumped a little when her phone vibrated strongly in the pocket of her jacket, and she unlocked it to read something on the screen.

"Oh, just in time!" she announced. "Hotchner came to drop off some groceries and said he would take you to Spencer's house."

You shook your head. "It's not necessary. Subway is super safe at this hour still."

"I work for the FBI, and that's a big lie, but you tried. Hotchner will come up with the groceries, and you can go with him."

And that was it. You couldn't refuse any longer because you knew that no argument would be valid, especially not for Hotchner, who adamantly refused to let you go alone. He had even installed his son's old car seat, so you couldn't continue refusing, especially when he had gone through so much trouble.

You had always thought Hotchner was too serious. In a way, every time you saw him, you felt like a girl who had gotten into trouble, and her parents were about to punish her. But the ride in his car to Spencer's house helped you realize that when he smiled and wasn't working, he was a completely different person. They talked about Penelope and raising children. Your admiration grew when you learned about the circumstances in which he was raising his son, doing it alone and carrying the pain of losing his wife.

"Wait," Hotchner stopped you when you took Matilda out of her seat and said to him. "I know you've heard it from all the team members, but I want you to know that you can always count on us, okay? You're family, and we take care of family."

That honesty sent waves of warmth through your body, deeply moving you. Finally, you nodded, stroking Matilda's neck.

"Thank you, Aaron. I know."

The man nodded solemnly at you and said goodbye to Matilda with a wave that the little girl returned. You watched him drive away, disappearing down the main street in silence. Then, you turned to Matilda, prompting her to look at you, and you smiled cheerfully.

"Ready to see Daddy, little bug?" you asked, and the girl nodded, much less drowsy than before as you started walking towards the building where Spencer lived.

As always, he didn't take long to open the door, and after a few seconds, Matilda was jumping from your arms to Spencer's, clinging tightly to her father's neck. Spencer returned the gesture, burying his nose in his daughter's neck and closing his eyes tightly, as if convincing himself that he wasn't delusional, and you were both right there on the doorstep of his home. You observed them with an involuntary smile, and suddenly, Spencer's eyes opened while still hugging Matilda, and he smiled at you with teary eyes.

"I missed you both," he murmured, stepping back a bit from Matilda to take a step towards you and unexpectedly embracing you. It wasn't just a courtesy hug; Spencer was beyond mere social politeness. His arms enveloped you, and you felt his hand caressing one of your shoulders, leaving you somewhat stunned in the hallway in front of his door.

He had to invite you in to snap you out of the tiny stupor his gesture had left you in.

Spencer hurried to serve ice cream for Matilda, who was waiting seated in her little chair, swinging her feet as she usually did.

"How was Diana?" you asked as you heard Spencer moving around in his kitchen, opening and closing drawers.

"The first day, she was usually disoriented, but as time passed, her memory improved. Anyway, that will happen often; the doctor changed her medication again," he replied, appearing in the dining area with a tray of three plates filled with ice cream. Of course, Matilda's was loaded with colorful sprinkles.

You thanked him for the ice cream and sat down next to Matilda to help her eat, but Spencer sat on her other side, begging to be the one to feed her. Of course, you didn't refuse. Instead, you managed to see the happiness that covered Spencer's face with each spoonful of ice cream he brought to Matilda's mouth. Spencer's apartment was somewhat gloomy, interesting but still taken out of a Tim Burton movie. Nevertheless, it suited him; such a house should belong to a kind of Sherlock, a lover of gothic literature, and a Halloween party animal/ donut enthusiast. There, in the midst of his home, which could only be perfectly described by someone like Edgar Allan Poe, Spencer and Matilda laughing and eating ice cream with sprinkles were the perfect colorful aesthetic fracture.

"It's good that you went to see her. Maybe next time you can bring Matilda," you suggested.

He looked at you and smiled, but didn't give a clear answer. You didn't want to press him, but you knew something was bothering him.

"And you? What have been doing?" he asked, a blatantly drastic change of subject.

You rested your chin on one of your palms and watched them with a smile.

"We've been fine. Matilda is practicing a lot for her ballet recital," you added. "This Wednesday, Spencer," you reminded him.

Lately, they had noticed that Matilda was too restless, or so said her daycare teacher, who couldn't keep up with the girl. She easily got distracted and didn't want to sing the alphabet or numbers songs. She hated coloring animal cartoons with all her might and even more the naptime. They had been recommended to have her engage in some sport or physical activity that would distract her, and J.J suggested enrolling her in ballet. It had been good; although neither you nor Spencer had seen such distracted behavior, at least Matilda had found a pastime she truly enjoyed.

"I talked to Hotch. Everything's set," he nodded. "Besides, my official work doesn't start until a week from now."

"You can work on freeing Penelope from the horrible nightmare she's been living these last few days in Quantico," was your distracted response.

You couldn't see the curious frown on Spencer's face because you were too focused on the ice cream melting on your plate.

"Wait, I didn't tell you anything about that," you lifted your gaze and smiled playfully.

"Oh. Guess who invited me for tea this afternoon?" you replied with humor, causing Spencer to roll his eyes and smile.

"You won't be able to escape from Pen. I warn you," he teased.

You leaned back in your chair and took another spoonful of ice cream delicately, then, after savoring it, responded, "I don't want to escape from her. I actually liked her a lot."

You saw Spencer make that grimace he always made when trying to hide an embarrassed smile.

"We're making it work, aren't we? Raising Matilda, I mean" he murmured softly.

You wouldn't admit it, but that one sentence almost disarmed you.

Since you spent together that Thanksgiving dinner in Wyoming, you and Spencer had become a united front. You couldn't say you were friends; there were too many secrets between you to declare that level of intimacy, but at least now, you knew about each other, talked, and faced problems together. That was a huge progress compared to the tension that existed between you when you didn't talk at all.

"We're doing well," you reluctantly admitted with a hint of shyness. "Hey, I know it's not strictly your days to take care of Matilda, but I was thinking, since you haven't seen her for quite a few days... Do you want to have her tonight?" you offered, almost with a bit of pain in your chest.

The truth was, you hated being away from Matilda, but that feeling only made you think about how Spencer felt not having her close when she was with you.His eyes stopped on yours with surprise, as if he was crafting some lie, and when he didn't find one, he smiled excitedly.

"And what about you? Won't you miss her?"

"Terribly, but it's only fair. You've been apart for too long, and she really wants you to read that Matilda book... again."

David Rossi, one of Spencer's colleagues, had given her Roald Dahl's book as a Christmas gift, and Matilda was so excited about it that she always made you read the book to her without getting tired. If you didn't, somehow, she managed to snuggle into a corner of her bed and slowly connect the letters to form a complete sentence. She still couldn't read continuously, so she quickly got tired and asked you to read her favorite story again and again.

Spencer gave you an incredulous look and looked at Matilda with a smile.

"Little witch. Maybe it's good to change the story a bit. How about 'The Little Prince'?"

Matilda made a disgusted face.

"No-oh, 'The Little Prince' is dumb."

Spencer looked at you in shock.

"I know the DNA test came back positive, but this can't be my daughter."

You let out a contained laugh and looked at Matilda, who continued with the furrowed brow that she had undoubtedly inherited from Spencer.

"Oh. Bug, I think you'll regret saying that someday."

"'The Little Prince' is dumb," she repeated almost belligerently.

"Okay, little witch, it's dumb... why?" Spencer observed her as Matilda stared at him as if another eye or a horn had suddenly grown on his forehead. She leaned towards him and spoke.

"A rose talks to him, Daddy." Spencer burst into contagious laughter that prompted your amused laughter. Matilda remained totally serious. "Roses don't talk."

You saw Spencer put his hands on his stomach and bend over in laughter, and you felt the sting of tears in your eyes.

"Why is a little girl manipulating things with her mind normal, sweetheart?" you tried to say as you wiped the tears from your eyes and tried to calm down.

Matilda looked at you and crossed her arms, somewhat upset. Spencer straightened up in his chair once he had calmed down and tried to reason with the little one.

"Little witch, your mom and I aren't making fun of you. You are just adorable. You're brilliant and know what you want," he explained, caressing her hair with a smile. "Let's read 'Matilda''. But you have to promise to give other stories a chance, okay? Do you promise?" he raised his eyebrows and slowly won her over again.

Matilda relaxed and nodded gently. "Promise," she agreed.

And there it was again: both had immersed themselves in that bubble they had created. You ignored whatever sent twinges to your stomach and picked up the dishes to wash them. They wouldn't miss you anyway. You took the opportunity to fold the clothes that Matilda kept at Spencer's house and left Schrödinger on her bed while you listened to Spencer read to Matilda. Later, when Spencer and Matilda took you home and made sure you entered your apartment safely, you faced the lonely prospect that awaited you this weekend.

You poured a glass of your favorite wine, drank it while watching an episode of Fleabag, then went to bed. Your eyes were heavy, and you could feel sleep beginning to creep inside you. That's when you remembered that you hadn't told Spencer that you had missed him too.

And you couldn't sleep for the rest of the night.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner #penelope garcia

[where-theres-smoak-2]

Jiara Season 4 Prediction

I’ve seen a lot of conversation around whether JJ and Kiara are together post time jump and I saw Madison’s interview where she said it was left ambiguous which got me thinking. Personally I do think this is all just to generate engagement and to get fans talking about the show. From what I understand the Jiara fandom is pretty big and so by keeping them ambiguous they can keep the fans speculating and keep the interest in the show up during the wait for season 4. So I don’t think Jiara fans should be too worried about Jiara in season 4 because I don’t think they would have put all that effort into them this season, or setting them up in previous seasons, just to throw it all out the window come season 4. 

That being said I did wonder if they do decide to go the route of they broke up in the time jump what could have brought that break up about? What I came up with is definitely your typical teen drama cliché but I think it could work if written properly. So here’s my theory, in season 2 Kiara mentions that her parents are afraid that she is going to sleep with a pogue and get pregnant like her mum did with her. It’s one of their biggest fears and part of the reason why they don’t like Kiara hanging around with the pogues. JJ’s biggest fear, meanwhile, is that he is going to turn out just like his dad. We know that they are planning to do flashbacks in season 4 to show what happened during that missing time. Now I don’t think Kiara will get pregnant but I do think its possible that one of those flashbacks will be Jiara having a pregnancy scare. Kiara thinks she might be pregnant and confides in JJ who then freaks out. Facing the prospect of potentially becoming a father makes JJ think of his own and then his self doubt creeps in and he figures there’s no way he could ever possibly be a good father because he had such a crappy example, that he’d end up ruining the life of any child he has and messing that kid up. It would also create some potential drama between Kie and her parents if they find out because you know they would pull the ‘we told you so’ card and blame it all on JJ and it would be another reason why they disapprove of JJ and of Kiara being around the pogues. I think ultimately when they take a test it’ll come back negative, or they’ll get a false positive but it’ll later be confirmed by a doctor that she isn’t, but the whole situation will get JJ thinking about their future and how if things go well between them the natural progression over time would lead to marriage and children. But these things are triggering for JJ due to his parent’s splitting up and the result of that being Luke being a crappy ass father which feeds into JJ’s fears about becoming a crappy father himself. The pregnancy scare just makes things way too real for JJ so he breaks up with Kie figuring it would be better to do it now than to risk them becoming more serious years down the line. Seeing as JJ is such an impulsive and volatile character who is prone to self sabotage and the fact that Kie isn’t the kind to give up on JJ that easily as proven this season, I also wouldn’t be surprised if he tries to cement this break up and try to deliberately turn Kie against him by either deliberately getting caught by Kie with another girl or by telling her he cheated on her when he didn’t. It really depends just how teen drama messy they want to go with it. 

So that’s my theory, I just feel like with how strong they left Jiara at the end of season 3 pre time jump, what with them confessing that they love each other and having worked through JJ’s self doubt issues and fears it has to be something pretty big to cause that break if they do decide to have them break up. Also to me the most logical way of doing it is to stick with the issues that they’ve already established in past seasons such as JJ’s issues with his father and self worth and Kie’s issues with her parents and their fears around her being lead estray by hanging with the pogues. Hopefully though there is no break up and when we come back for season 4 it’ll turn out they were all just trolling us with this ambiguity talk and Jiara are happily in love and all the flashbacks will just be them being cute and adorable in the early stages of their relationship.     

#jiara #obx3 spoilers #obx spoilers #obx #outer banks #outer banks s3 spoilers #outer banks theories

[proudfreakmetarusonniku]

Whumptober Day 3: Isolation and Overstimulation

Disc finale bad ending AU. Studying the effects of Tommy's hypersensitivity after revival, Dream uses the fear of being alone Tommy has to be allowed to preen his wings, despite the sensory overload of revival. Warnings for hypersensitivity and sensory overload, some body horror with revival, abuse, torture, manipulation, isolation, human experimentation, and forced family dynamics.

this is inspired by the time i was having a meltdown and my dad decided the best way to comfort me was ruffling my hair. i love you dad but you’re also stupid.

ao3 link

—— Coming back to life fucking sucked.

Limbo was shitty, sure, but he’d rather stay there and sleep forever or something than go through the sheer unbridled awfulness of revival. Limbo hurt, but it was the lingering pain of death- honestly, it wasn’t even that fucking bad if Dream was in one of those rare moods he didn’t treat making Tommy’s death as prolonged and torturous as possible as the most fun game in the whole world. It was nothing compared to the sheer agony of revival.

It was indescribable, but out of the sheer boredom Tommy’s life was defined by outside of the terror of Dream’s experiments, the twisted feelings of almost-happiness when Dream forced him to pretend they were all friendly like, and the sobbing fits he went into whenever he thought of Tubbo had left him with a lot of time to find the closest description possible, solely to never tell it to Dream out of spite. Or maybe to tell it to him straight away, and be a good friend and be allowed maybe a modicum of freedom. It depended on whether he was having a normal day or one of the ones where he wished even Dream was around to spare him from the tedium and boredom of being locked in a boiling hot cell with literally nothing to do.

It was like if you were a jumper. Dying was like if you were unravelled into a mess of wool, and obviously, that hurt like shit, but once you were a pile of thread, it didn’t really get worse. But being revived? It was like if you were knitted back together, but like, by a really shitty knitter. It was like you had holes poked in you and sewn together wrong and when you were finished, you had like three arms and were full of holes, meaning you couldn’t even keep anything warm anymore, and then you just had to be a shitty jumper in pain and unable to do anything forever as you unravelled again but even worse.

It wasn’t a perfect analogy because it made it sound way too nice. It didn’t even get into how it felt like his soul had been shattered and glued together haphazardly, then sent through a fucking shredder. It didn’t get into the fainting spells or the brain fog, or when he’d spend all day curled up around the sink vomiting a pitch-black fluid that eroded at the walls and the porcelain. But it was the closest he’d managed to describing the sheer agony.

It was quick, but that felt less like a mercy and more like another torture. A sudden burst of agony without warning burned through him, one second in limbo, the next forced back into his own decaying corpse, the walls wailing and the lights blinding. The bedsheets underneath him were soft, but the bloodstains dug into him painfully, and the texture of it hurt. The taste of iron in his mouth made him feel sick, and the smell of perfume barely covering up rot stung his eyes and nose.

Involuntarily, Tommy let out a cry of pain, but the reverberations through his throat felt like a thousand tiny knives. Dream said something, probably either mocking or the fake nice thing he did when pretending they were friends, but it blurred together into an incomprehensible noisy mess. He put his hands over his ears, rocking back and forth as he curled into the tightest ball he could.

The feeling of something heavy on his head, ruffling across it and leaving behind a tingling pain wherever it touched, made him squeeze up even tighter, letting out a squeak of pain. It felt like little bugs had laid their eggs in his scalp where the pressure was, digging through his skull and his brain, painful and, above all else, uncomfortable beyond description, leaving him squirming and trying to avoid it.

“Prime, Tommy, you don’t need to act like I’m killing you, geez.” Dream’s voice was barely audible through the static of the echo against the wall, the lava sizzling, Tommy’s own laboured breath. Vaguely, he registered that he wasn’t angry. More… amused. Curious.

Dream being curious was never good.

Suddenly, a light touch poked at his wings, and despite how brief the contact was, it sent an explosion of pain through Tommy’s body, like knives through his flesh. White hot pain flashed through the delicate bones and malformed, underdeveloped flesh underneath, flashing like electricity. It was like drowning in a sea of stars, their touch burning and gnawing through him. He couldn’t breathe through the void of space in his lungs.

The noise that came from his throat wasn’t a scream; it was something more guttural, less coherent. A howling, piercing screech of agony, one that echoed off the walls in a cacophonous symphony. Something like laughter joined it too, one he vaguely recognised as Dream’s wheezing giggles. It was a horrible, overwhelming sound.

“Sorry, sorry!” Dream’s voice was barely recognisable over the dim static, even as the wall of noise faded. “I just couldn’t help myself, y’know? You’re so sensitive over your wings. It’s so funny.”

“Hurts.” Tommy barely more than mouthed the word, shivering violently. “Hurts.”

“Interesting.” Dream hummed, and Tommy flinched violently, expecting another touch, but Dream only observed. “It doesn’t always hurt if they’re touched, though, right? I mean, I saw Tubbo preening your wings when they got dirty ages ago, and you didn’t seem upset by that. I mean, your feathers are a mess. It’s bothering me.”

“I… Tubbo…” 

Just thinking of Tubbo felt through a knife through the chest, a worse pain than anything physical Dream could inflict. The screams, the rattling sound of his breath as he slipped away, the glassy-eyed look of his corpse. Tommy had tried to take the quick, decisive blow initially meant to kill him, and as punishment, while Tommy was lying on the ground clutching his shattered ribs, Dream had drawn out Tubbo’s death, made Tommy watch it the whole time.

Maybe he deserved all this, making Tubbo suffer.

“… He- he knew how to do it without it making my skin feel like it was on fuckin’ fire.” Tommy cuddled his knees, hiding his face. He wasn’t giving Dream the fucking satisfaction of seeing him tear up. “It’s- like, I make my own clothes because everything else hurts, right? And I cook my own food and stuff.” 

He left out the fact it was meant to be a thing that was a bonding experience, done between parent and child, brothers and sisters, friends so close they were practically family. Letting someone he fucking despised like Dream do it would be like letting Dream cut his hair or patch up his wounds, uncomfortable and shitty. Something he knew from experience because Dream had done those, and it was fucking awkward.

Prime, he acted like a worried mother hen around Tommy, fretting and clingy as shit, at least when he wasn’t gleefully watching him bleed out onto the obsidian. He’d more likely get the latter if he protested, and as weird as it was that Dream was acting like they were brothers or something, at least it was better than dying.

“Can you tell me how to do it, then?” Dream’s voice was sickly sweet, and he could imagine the soft smile on his face. Honey poorly hiding poison. Tommy instinctively shook his head, but Dream ignored it. “I can’t stand the mess, so either I do it now, or I leave you alone until it’s time for the next experiment and do it while you’re a corpse. Or I could just cut off your wings, but I like them, so I’d rather not.”

Tommy’s blood ran cold at the word alone. Alone was a worse pain than any blow Dream could make, any words he could weave, a million times worse. Broken bones and infected wounds didn’t fester as painfully as the all-consuming guilt and loneliness that descended on the cell when Tommy was alone. Dream was cruel, taking joy in torturing and experimenting on Tommy in the way a child played with their favourite toys. Still, he was a person, one who’d give Tommy kindness and socialisation even when no one else would, and even if the idea of the slightest brush against his feathers made him feel sick, a single second alone felt even worse.

“I- please. You can stay, just don’t leave me alone.” Tommy spoke as loudly as he could, even though it felt like a sword down his throat to do so. “Please. We- we can be friends, just, don’t go, please-“

“Alright, alright! Prime, you’re so jumpy.” There wasn’t the slightest hint of annoyance in Dream’s tone, just what might have been restrained affection. The sort you’d give a misbehaving kitten, the tones Tommy once spoke to Henry with. “Honestly, I did need to study this at some point, y’know. It’s easier if I don’t have to deal with you scratching at me.”

Tommy barely had the time to process the words before he yelped at Dream sitting behind him on the bed, gently resting his hands just close enough to Tommy’s wings that he could feel their presence pricking at him like a thousand needles. “What do I do?”

“Uh, j-just… don’t touch the actual wing? Like, I know that makes no fuckin’ sense, but I can’t feel through my feathers, it’s like hair and shit, but my actual wings are all put together wrong, and it’s- even when I haven’t just been revived and shit, fucking hurts if they’re touched at all, because the bones are all wrong.”

Dream hummed, and slowly, agonisingly slowly, he gently ran his fingers through one of the iridescent feathers on Tommy’s wings. The slight pull felt like his nerves were being plucked straight out of his skin, like he was a star dying, bursting into a supernova and burning himself. Even the warm, comforting feeling the soft touch gave, like how the memories of laughter and watching the night skies in L’Manberg felt made manifest, was overwhelming, like being drowned in a life he’d no longer ever have.

When Tommy was younger, he remembered he used to hate hugs. They were nice, for a while, but then the feeling of warmth turned to burning on his skin, itchiness where the horrible clothes people somehow managed to wear, the pressure suddenly turning suffocating. He used to bite Wilbur sometimes, like a cornered cat. Once he was better at English, he’d been able to explain why it was bad- Wilbur said something about sensory issues and tried to take him to a doctor to get something beginning with A tested out, but apparently, you get kicked out if you show the doctor your knife collection- and he’d almost forgotten he’d hated it at all. 

His mind, though, desperately trying to make sense of the pain and overstimulation, replayed the memories in his head, like a broken disc mixed in with starbursts and lights brighter than the sun. It felt like those old days, the scary days, except Dream knew what the fuck he was doing and didn’t give a shit. That feeling offered some perverse sense of comfort.

Maybe he could pretend he was ten again, and Dream was Wilbur, and everything was normal, and his pain didn’t matter, and no one knew any better.

Instead of biting at anyone, Tommy bit his tongue until he tasted blood and put on a smiling mask. That, as agonising as it was, was better than being alone.

#my writing #ailesswhumptober #dream smp #c!primeboys #body horror tw #abuse tw #torture tw #manipulation tw #isolation tw #human experimentation tw

[ridiasfangirlings]

Mikosaru omegaverse. Mikoto is alive. After Fushimi gave birth, how their lives changed

Imagine bitchy pregnant omega Fushimi, I bet that was the most miserable nine months of everyone's lives (well, I guess for Fushimi there's a lot of competition on that front though). Mikoto survives S1 and then ROK happens in some manner and the Slate is destroyed and everything goes back to normal. At this point Mikoto pretty much just falls back into his relationship with Fushimi, I imagine Fushimi initially being resistant just on principle but Mikoto basically ignores that and starts treating Fushimi as his mate. Fushimi manages to hold out until he goes into heat for the first time since Mikoto's unexpected survival and he ends up breaking into Mikoto's room all irritated and taking his clothes off like fine let's get this over with. Unfortunately he forgets about the birth control and ends up pregnant, I imagine they do actually have something of a serious conversation as to whether Fushimi wants to keep the baby – Fushimi's obviously got issues with becoming a parent but Mikoto's not going to force it on him, like Fushimi gets all defensive wondering if Mikoto expects him to have a kid and Mikoto just shrugs and says it's Fushimi's choice isn't it. In the end even Fushimi is surprised when he decides to go through with the pregnancy (and please imagine poor Munakata, torn between excitement for his new grandchild – “You aren't my dad, Captain” – and knowing exactly whose kid this is).

Once the kid is born I imagine Homra and S4 assisting a lot because let's face it Mikoto and Fushimi would probably have trouble raising a plant much less a child. Though even with all that I imagine they'd figure it out a little, Mikoto being unexpectedly dependable when it comes down to it. Like I could see Fushimi expecting to have to do everything, assuming that of course Mikoto isn’t going to get up in the middle of the night to feed the kid or anything, only to be surprised when he tries to get up at 1am and Mikoto just pushes him back down onto the bed and tells him to go back to sleep. Mikoto isn't the best with responsibility but I think he would take this seriously, I just imagine Fushimi walking back into their apartment after work and Mikoto's asleep on the couch with the baby on his stomach. Fushimi's still kinda hesitant with the kid, I imagine him being constantly afraid that he's going to break the child somehow or be as bad as his dad and Mikoto is just very blunt about the whole thing, that Fushimi isn't his dad and that he's doing pretty good with what he has to work with, and that Fushimi should just think less for once and let himself do what he wants to do and love his kid.

#Mikosaru #Talking K #SHIP MIKOSARU ALL YE HEATHENS #imagine Fushimi wearing the baby sling #going shopping with a visibly bored Mikoto #they're not good at domesticity okay #also imagine somehow the kid turns out super peppy and energetic #Fushimi is like are you sure this is our kid and Mikoto shrugs like shouldn't you know

[ask-the-royal-absol]

happy munday! hope you're doing well :D this is your free space to ramble about something you've been wanting to. is it a game? an oc you love? the food you had yesterday? feel free to share something good that's on your mind, I'd love to know~

(Book ramble!

So, I’ve been listening to an audio book series called the Stormlight Archive. Now, one of the books is called Warbreaker and it’s in the same universe but on a different planet. I’m really enjoying this book.

It revolves around three characters. Siri, Lightsong and Vivenna (spelling could be wrong).

Siri is the youngest daughter from the royal family of Idris. She doesn’t control her tongue, she loves being outgoing and didn’t listen to her father when going through her royal training. Her father doesn’t really see her as important.

Her sister, Vivenna, is the eldest daughter and is said to marry a man called the God King from the kingdom of Hallendren. She is also supposed to carry his child. She has been trained since she was young and now needs to go to the kingdom of Hallendren. However, her father likes her more than Siri and so sends Siri instead. Oh no. She panics. Now, the royal family of Idris have a special power. They can freely grow their hair and it changes colour depending on their emotions. Vivenna is confused as to why she wasn’t sent because she was trained for this. Her dad says because she would be more valuable ruling Idris than going to Hallendren. Vivenna doesn’t like that. She feels it’s a waste of her many years of training.

Siri goes to Hallendren and is in awe by the vibrant colour and hues she sees there. In Hallendren, it is ruled by Gods, with the God King being top of the top. Gods are people who died and were reborn. Their names make hints to how they died and they have no memories of who they were before their died. Each god has colours that represent them and have a priest each who sees that they have everything that they need. The gods have lots of things they need to do. Tell the priests their dreams so the priests can speculate on what may happen, look at artefacts and paintings from the common folk and decide if they’re good enough, and most importantly decide on whether they are going to heal someone. Now, in order for a god to heal someone, they need to die.

Enter Lightsong, a lazy, wants to be known as useless and witty God who really doesn’t care about his god duties. His priest, who he calls Scoot, is tired of his shenanigans and tomfoolery but still follows Lightsong’s every whim. Blush Weaver, another god, wants him in her own ways but Lightsong shrugs off her attempts at a relationship. With the art of confusion, he bamboozles everyone. His witty tongue cannot be stopped. He is my favourite (I wonder why).

Siri enters the palace and everyone expects her to do what needs to be done to ensure she has a baby. She, for a whole 2-3 weeks, kneels on the floor naked (because that’s what she’s expected to do as the wife of the God King), expecting the God King to take her. The God King instead stares from his chair near the fireplace. After her 3 weeks, she makes a comment at him about him not doing anything and she goes to him bed to sleep. After a while, the God King approaches her and wants her to read the story he has been looking at. It’s of children’s stories. Siri then finds out he can’t read, his tongue was cut out so he can’t use his god powers and he has no idea how the world works outside of the palace. So Siri feels bad for him and teaches him how to read and write so he can communicate. He also teaches him about the world around him and he ends up writing that she is the most beautiful person he has seen.

Vivenna has made it to the city with her friend Parlen. She wants to find Siri and put an end to the rumours spreading that there will be a war between Idris and Hallendren. She meets up with a couple of mercenaries (Denth and Tonk-Fa) who work for the guy who she’s been chatting with. However, this guy (Lennox) is dying and wants to give her his breath. Breath is kinda people’s souls. The more breath you have, the more things you can see. You can see colour in finer detail. You can sense where people are. Things around you become more brightly coloured and you can put your breath into objects to make the, do what you want them to do.

Vivenna does not want the breath. It goes against her religion but this guy passes it onto her anyway. The mercenaries convince Vivenna to work with them as they’re trying to make Hallendren worse for when war comes. Vivenna agrees to this and they get up to criminal activities. Denth and Tonk-Fa make lots of jokes and say killing someone and betraying them is mercenary humour. Vivenna sees them both as friends.

Lightsong is still lazy but a murder happens in the court of gods and something inside of him wants to figure out what’s going on for some reason. He’s never had the gumption to do anything before so he finds it strange that he wants to figure things out. Blush Weaver finds this very weird and out of character. She wants to gather armies of undead soldiers for when war eventually happens but Lightsong wants to figure out this mystery. This then sparks some more investigating and Lightsong becomes interested in who he was before becoming a god. He tries lots of things he’s never done before and realises he’s retained some skills from his previous life. He figures that he may have been a city guard or a detective or something because of what he’s putting together but is unsure.

I could go on for longer about what’s happening because I’m at the final part of the story but this post would be too long.

Thank you for the question!)

#munday

[soap-stains]

Okay so um

We been done knew how into Ace Attorney I've been recently

Well, there's an AU called The Loaned Turnabout by @collabwithmyself that I found, and honestly? I love it. Tbh kinda cried over it earlier. And screamed. This thing makes me feel okay. If you're interested, I suggest you check it out!!!!

Anyway! I've been experimenting with a new art style recently, and I decided to do a messy colored sketch celebrating Phoenix being back in his own body!

(Keep in mind I'm still working on this style and I didn't start drawing AA characters until recently I know this isn't amazing but I really tried guys hhhh I just wanted to draw something from this AU)

And I say "celebrating" but no it's sad

Look at the babey. What a boy. He and Miles can (hopefully >_>) be happy together now <3

Might take some work, but they'll get there! I think!

#the loaned turnabout #ace attorney #ace attorney phoenix wright #phoenix wright #feenie #orange does art #god why is his hair so fucking hard to draw #like wtf #i just can never do it right #anyway lmao i startex this at 4:30 or so #it's now 5:06 #i should really go to bed now #because i probably might have to give my cat her insulin shot at 6 #depends on whether my dad decides to sleep or not #haha oversharing im so sorry i need aleep #good night yall i hope youre doing good #i hopw this isnt bad #i was proud of this drawing #sent it to my friend and she was liks 'aww'

[ptergwen]

you know that one scene in ffh when people keep knocking on the door while fury is trying to speak to peter? could you maybe do something like that but instead it’s peter and stark reader wanting some alone time (you can make it smut or fluff idm!) also, i am so in love with your work it’s amazing :)❣️

knock before you enter

w/c: 1.3k

warnings: implied smut, dirty jokes, swearing

a/n: i went a lil overboard because i was having too much fun :,) and i kinda combined the two i hope that’s okay!

-

you let out a breath of relief as peter finally presses his lips to yours. he grins at that, his hands continuing to roam your body while you kiss. it’s a needy kiss, one you’ve been waiting the whole day to share.

you’d thought europe of all places would give you the opportunity to explore each other more. you’re away from your overbearing father, you don’t have team responsibilities. there was one mishap with a water monster nearly destroying the city. you both managed to fight it off together. tony was right to make you bring your suit, and may encouraged her nephew to do the same. the stark’s and parker’s think alike.

most of the pestering you’ve faced this trip has come from your teachers and fellow classmates. whether it’s mr. dell assigning work or flash trying to film you two for a livestream, you and peter can’t get a moment alone. that’s about to change. you’re in peter’s hotel room after a fun yet highly supervised day in venice.

most kids are getting ready for bed, at mr. harrington’s request. he’s adamant on everyone having a good night sleep before the walking tour you’re taking tomorrow. you and peter plan to do everything but sleep, however.

“you taste like toothpaste,” peter mumbles against your mouth, arms winding around your back. “is that a good or bad thing?” you giggle and tug at his undone curls. that elicits a high pitched whine from him. “depends on who you ask. me personally, i think it’s sexy.” he’s laying over you on his bed, your fingers tangling in his locks. “open up, then,” you practically purr. peter happily obliges and resumes his kissing.

right when his tongue glides over your lower lip, there’s a knock on the wall.

“i thought you said ned wouldn’t be back…” your words trail off when peter starts to kiss down your neck. “for a while,” you add, softer. “he won’t. last time i checked, he was with betty,” peter replies and effortlessly finds your sweet spot. he nudges it with his nose, making a smile spread across your face. “ok, keep going,” you pull on the roots of his hair gently. peter pecks at your lips. “gotcha, baby.”

he’s kissing his way back to your sweet spot when there’s more knocking, this time much louder. with quirked eyebrows, peter detaches his lips from your skin. “um… hello?” he hesitantly answers. “finally. i was ready to come kick down your door, you idiot,” mj speaks through the thin wall. you squeeze your eyes shut in annoyance, not saying anything. “what do you want, mj? it’s late,” peter sighs back.

“so what? i know you’re not sleeping,” mj insists, leaning against the wall. “i can hear everything. hey, y/n.” peter’s face tints a light shade of pink. you make wide eyes up at him. “hi, i guess. you good over there?” her lips form a line. “i was until the horrendous sounds of parker clapping your cheeks disturbed my reading.” peter grips at your waist with a pout.

“what? we weren’t- i- i didn’t-“ “spare me the details,” mj sharply cuts in, opening whatever mystery novel she recently bought. “i don’t care what you do, as long as you do it quietly. deal?” seeing as peter is too flustered to speak, you take over again. “yeah, sorry. we’ll tone it down. goodnight, em.” “ciao,” she says before returning to her book.

peter shakes his head, fully burying his face in your neck. “that was embarrassing. she’s so…” “nosy,” you finish for him. your fingers brush back some hair that flopped over his forehead. “at least she’s not telling on us or whatever.” he puffs air out of his cheeks, placing a kiss under your chin. “true. you wanna pick up where we left off?” “ugh, yes,” you instantly groan.

your lips are colliding with peter’s again, just like that. it isn’t for too long. his hands settle on your stomach and under your shorts, then you hear someone banging on the door. they talk before either you or peter can tell them to fuck off.

“y/n, is that you?” brad questions, your face twisting in confusion. “uh, yeah. how’d you know?” peter bites the inside of his cheek while brad converses. “i stopped by your room. betty said you might be here… with him.” the him in question is peter, who chuckles bitterly. “what’s up, buddy? we’re kind of in the middle of something. i’m sure you knew that, too.”

“i didn’t, but thanks for sharing,” brad sarcastically responds. “y/n said she’d give me her notes on one of the da vinci exhibits.” peter cocks his head to the side. “she did?” he wonders, looking over at you. “you did?” “it was either that or help him myself,” you explain and drag your fingers along the back of his neck soothingly. “the kid doesn’t leave me alone.”

peter nods, wrapping a protective arm around your middle. “she’ll give you them tomorrow, brad. isn’t it past your bedtime?” “point taken,” brad scoffs and heads back to his room. you draw peter in closer to you. “thanks, pete. hopefully, that’ll be our last guest for the night.” he kisses both your cheeks with a grin. “where were we, mio amore?”

“ooh, i love it when you speak italian,” you giggle, peter cupping your face in his hands.“grazie, bellissima.” he winks and earns a puzzled face from you. “bellissima?” “that means beautiful.” instead of responding with words, you use your mouth to move on his. peter happily kisses back and lets your tongues intertwine. things quickly heat up, peter slipping your shorts down your legs and you lifting his pajama shirt.

you’re both only half undressed and running off broken up kisses, but so desperate. you part your legs for peter, his fingers hooking in the waistband of your panties. “think you can keep your oath of silence?” he teases and nips at your covered collarbone. “the real question is, can you?” you challenge. peter doesn’t get the chance to answer because the door suddenly flies open.

there stands ned, his mouth agape at the sight of a shirtless peter undressing you. you’re the first to notice. you see over peter’s shoulder and gasp. concern covers his features. “what is it, baby? do you want-“ “ned!” you whisper yell. his concern becomes shock. “you want ned?” “no, peter! he’s right there!” teeth sinking into your lip, you point behind him. peter looks and surely enough, there’s his best friend rendered speechless in the doorway.

“dude, what the hell are you doing here?” peter squeaks, you grabbing your shorts from next to you. he turns around to shield you while you put them back on. “aren’t you supposed to be with betty?” “we, um, finished,” ned gulps in response. “finished what- oh.” peter scratches the back of his neck as it hits him. “yuck, ned. a gentleman never tells.” “says you! this is my room too, you know,” he defends himself, you moving out from behind peter.

“and betty’s room is also mine. consider us even,” you hand peter his t-shirt with a satisfied smirk. he murmurs a thank you and throws it back on. ned uncomfortably shifts from foot to foot in the doorway. “that’s fair… are you leaving now?” “i should before mr. harrington makes his rounds,” you reluctantly decide. “i liked it better when people actually knocked,” peter says under his breath, standing to give you a goodnight hug.

“it’s not even this bad at home. i’ll take my dad and friday spying on us over a walk of shame any day,” you exhale as peter pulls you into his chest. hugging back by his torso, you give him an innocent kiss on the cheek. his lips brush your forehead. “maybe we’ll have better luck tomorrow. should we try again, same time?” a familiar and irritated voice yells through the wall. mj.

“please god, no!”

#peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #marvel

[helloprettybb]

slip of the tongue

i love bucky with all my heart. that’s it.

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

description: bucky doesn’t really like you. but a night alone and a stab wound may change his opinion.

warnings: violence, bad description of action scene, heated kissing??? not smut but implied

word count: 1.9k

Bucky hates you. It isn’t difficult seeing as you’re Stark’s daughter and every quality in the man is tenfold in you. You’re crazy smart and you aren’t afraid to show it. Perhaps your worst attribute is your arrogance since it’s justified most of the time. Bucky hates how you’re always right and the stupid smirk on your face when you outwit or outtalk someone.

He knows you can tell and that’s the worst part. It seems you do everything in your power to irk him even more. Like trying to talk to him every time he enters the room or asking for every excruciating detail for any minor event. You get on his nerves and nothing could change that.

The team left for a mission this morning so it’s just you and Bucky at the Compound. After doing nothing all day, Bucky decides to go for an afternoon run. He doesn’t listen to music, as he enjoys the sounds of the city between the mindless chatter and the speeding cars, it reminds him of his youth.

Towards the end of his run, Bucky starts toward the Compound when his ears pick up a yell. Going towards the noise, he spots three men assaulting a woman. She tries her best to hold them off, but she is greatly outnumbered and outmatched by the three, burly men.

Bucky springs into action and grabs the man whose hands are around the woman’s throat. Yanking him off easily, Bucky shoves the man to the ground with a force that was probably harder than necessary, but he doesn’t feel an ounce of remorse as he moves his attention to the two other attackers. He grabs the second man, who is slightly shorter than the first and punches him square in the jaw. He releases the woman and stumbles back. The third man lands a few punches on him, but they barely phase Bucky. While fighting off the last man, Bucky doesn’t notice the first guy get up. He also fails to notice the shiny knife in his hand before it’s too late. The man stabs Bucky in the side. Now Bucky’s pissed as he pushes the third man into the wall. He turns toward the man with the knife and knocks him out cold.

He looks around and realizes the woman must have run away. “Good.” he thinks, but only for a minute as he remembers that he got fucking stabbed. He groans as he applies pressure to the wound.

Bucky makes it back to the Compound, but the pain is getting worse. Stumbling inside, he heads for the labs to look for a medkit. But of course, since it’s his lucky day, you’re there, too. You’re probably finishing the project that you were talking about for the past few weeks - something about particles accelerating, but Bucky didn’t care enough to ask. He hopes he can slip by unnoticed, but the gaping hole in his side draws attention to him.

Your head snaps up from your work and you see Bucky hobble by. “Heya Buck,” you start in your usual playful manner. But when you look at the state he’s in, your attitude changes immediately, “What the fuck happened?”

“It’s nothing.” he grumbles. You look down and see that he’s holding his side. His sweatshirt and fingers are covered in blood.

“Bullshit.” you say. Moving around the lab, you quickly find the medkit. “Sit down.”

“I don’t need your-”

“Shut up and sit down.” you interrupt. Bucky’s protests stop as he sits down on one of the stools. You pull up a chair and open the kit.

“Y’know this will probably heal by tomorrow.”

“Yeah, but it can’t heal if you bleed to death.” you retort. While the injury most likely won’t kill him, your point still stands. “Can I?” you motion to his hand. He removes his hand and you quickly pull his sweatshirt up to treat the wound. Luckily it’s a shallow stab wound and the gauze you put on is enough to stop him from bleeding out. As you continue to apply the gauze, you have to force yourself to not get distracted by his defined abs and focus all your attention on the wound. Your fingers trace over his stomach and he jumps slightly.

“Sorry,” you mutter. Your hands must be freezing from being down in the lab for so long. Once you finish applying the gauze, you say, “There, all done.” You look up at Bucky and are unable to read his expression. It causes you both to fall into an awkward silence. “So,” you say to clear the air, “How’d this happen?”

“Some guys were attacking this woman. Didn’t know one of them had a knife.” He responds gruffly. You nod in understanding.

You finish patching him up and say, “If you need anything like extra bandages or a beer, just come to me.” Bucky simply nods, unsure what to make of that proposition. He begins to leave awkwardly and almost makes it out of the lab before something in him makes him turn back.

He pops his head in and says, “You said something about beer?”

-

Bucky doesn’t know what time it is and he doesn’t care. He’s on his fourth beer, but he can’t get drunk so it doesn’t really matter. It’s funny because one beer turned into two and then three and now he’s found himself in a full-on conversation with you. And the most surprising part is that it’s delightful.

Behind your arrogance and quick judgments, you’re really funny. He knew you were smart, that wasn’t a surprise, but talking to you more changed his opinion of you.

“So, Buck.” Usually, that nickname didn’t get to him but a healing stab wound and a couple of beers will change anyone’s perception.

“What?” he asks.

“Got any lucky girl?” He scoffs at that and you look shocked. “What? It was simply a question.”

“It wasn’t the question, doll.” Since when did he call you doll? Just a slip of the tongue, he supposes. “It was the fact that I’d even have someone.” he says honestly.

“What do you mean? You’re a good-looking guy, just over one hundred. Any girl would be lucky to have you.” Bucky rolls his eyes and laughs. Damn, you’re growing on him.

“I’m serious!” you exclaim. Your left arm is on the couch and your hand is leaning against your hand. He realizes this is the closest you’ve been besides before when you were tending to his stab wound. “You’re a catch, Buck. What stops all the ladies from falling all over you?”

He rolls his eyes at you again whether at your persistence or wording. “I’m a bad guy, doll.” There it is again.

“That’s not true,” you scoff. Taking a sip from your beer, you casually add, “Besides, I’ve always had a thing for the bad ones,” Bucky raises an eyebrow at that. “Come on, Buck. I’ve liked you for a pretty long time. I thought I made it quite obvious.”

“By annoying the hell outta me?” He jokes.

“Hey, I was just trying to talk to you. Although I know I can come across as….”

“Annoying.” he says back. You give him a look that makes him laugh and soon a smile spreads across your face.

“I actually do care about you. But, I know you don’t feel the same way, so I’m happy just being friends.” Bucky thinks it over for a moment. Just this morning he was thinking about how you bothered the hell out of him. Actually, the more that he thinks about it, he realizes that he never really hated you. Did Bucky like you all along? He’s about to reply when the elevator doors open.

“Oh, you’re back?” you turn to greet the team.

“Hey, what are you doing up so late with Bucky?” Your dad eyes the two of you suspiciously.

You catch onto what he’s implying and assure him, “We’re just hanging out. In fact, I was just heading to my room. See you tomorrow.” You say a quick goodbye and leave before anyone could say anything.

They all turn to Bucky, ready to attack him with questions. “I’m going to head up, too.” Bucky quickly exits. He catches up to you, although he definitely didn’t mean to. Curse his long legs.

“Oh, hey,” you say as he enters the sleeping quarters.

“Hey,” he says. Fuck it, mind as well try it. “So, about the friend thing.”

You wince, “You don’t want to be friends.” You seem a little hurt by it, “I get it, you don’t really like me. It’s not like I can force you, too. And especially after I basically confessed to liking you as more than a friend, I could see how a potential friendship wouldn’t sound too appealing.” You’ve never looked this uneasy. He’s used to seeing you so confident and assured, but this was new.

Bucky lets you finish rambling before he replies, “No, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Oh.” He laughs a little, finally shutting you up. He moves closer, but you stay still. You both can tell what’s about to happen, yet neither is making a motion to stop it.

“I like you. As more than a friend.” You look like you’re trying to play it cool and contain your excitement, but Bucky sees you bite your lip like you’re trying to stop your smile from spreading.

“So…” You start like you’re thinking long and hard about what you’re about to say, “Can I kiss you?” You’re adorable. Bucky takes one last step and pulls you into a kiss.

Your lips are soft against his. Beyond the taste of beer, Bucky picks up some… he swipes his tongue over your bottom lip… cherry lipgloss. He’ll never get sick of the taste of cherries. He thought it’d be a sweet, innocent kiss but when you grab at his back, trying to hold him as close as possible, he knows it’s anything but. You kiss him hungrily as if your life depends on it and Bucky eagerly accepts. He muffles your moans and gasps and thinks about how nice those sounds will be echoed in his bedroom.

Bucky moves you so that your back is against the wall. You moan as his hands trail down your sides and onto your ass. His hands go under your thighs and you jump so that you can wrap your legs around his waist. Bucky catches you and pins you between himself and the wall.

Your hands go up to his hair and play with a few strands before pulling lightly. He groans at that, separating from your lips and throwing his head back. With his neck exposed, you trail kisses up and down his throat. Sucking and biting occasionally and making Bucky go crazy.

Two can play at that game, he thinks. He reconnects your lips to kiss you again and starts grinding his hips into you. Your hands go to his back and start scratching against his shirt.

Before this could go any further, Bucky pulls away and asks, “My room?”

And you smile, “Fuck yeah.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes imagine #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel imagines

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#246

“Here boy. I know who and what you are. Do you know who I am?… Liar. You’re a faggot liar. Yes you do. You have been drooling over me for weeks now. Follow me. I got us a room at the motel next door….

“The regulars here at the diner don’t care that I prefer fucking faggots like you over broads. I just don’t broadcast it like you do. I’ve seen you talking to some of the boys I have fucked. You know I have a big dick and that I pile drive boy cunt.

“I’ve seen you in the parking lot. You watch the guys like me going into the bookstore across the lot. You want to follow them in, but the bookstore won’t let you. They know you’re underage. Until today. Now you are legal to fuck. Yeah, I know your 18th birthday is today. I know a lot of things about you. I know you cruise the bookstore, and the bathroom the bar shares with the diner. I know you are finishing up at high school.

“Here’s our room. I fuck the owner and he let’s me use a secluded empty room whenever I need. So, you can scream when I tear up your cunt. Having a big dick has many many many advantages. I need to let off some steam from a long day on the farm. Get naked, I’m gonna get the ropes out. My reputation is well known that I am a twisted fucker. Hell my conquests told you the such, and yet you came with me here.

“Always remember this, I am always in control of everything. Right now, that includes you. Naked. And then get on your knees and face me. See, it’s natural for you to follow orders. And where’s your phone?… Hand it to me…. Continue stripping. Well,… You’re kinda scrawny. You’ve never worked a hard day at anything, and it shows. Damn your pecker is tiny. That’s the way I like it. My cock is fucking huge, and you need to realize your place is on your knees in front of real men. You will never be a real man. You do know that, right?…

“You know what I want you to do. I want you to beg me to fuck you. I want you to beg me to brutalize your cunt. And while you are begging me and degrading and humiliating yourself, I will be jacking off to you. Having a big dick requires a little extra tugging to get hard. I know you wouldn’t know anything about that. You are too focused on your cunt. And call it a cunt a number of times, especially when you are fingering it. I want you to tell me that you need for me to rape you. Your goal is to degrade yourself. Tell me how much of a faggot you are. And focus on your tiny clit there. Tell me how you envy any real man with a real sized dick. And the thing I need for you to beg me to rape you—not have sex, not make love—rape. Use that word often.

“Here look up at me, at your phone. Thanks for letting me use your face to unlock it. I will be recording this on your phone. I want you to have a record of how low you are. I want you to watch this every morning as you are about to jack off at home. Speaking of jacking off, I should take my cock out for you. Damn, even totally limp, it’s way bigger than yours hard.

“You have three minutes to fully degrade yourself. Go!…

“…That’s time. Ok. See how big you got me? The full nine and a half inch dick, ready to rape the hell out of you. Crawl over here and blow me, but first put on this blindfold. I don’t want you to see anything. Good, now show me how good you are as a faggot cocksucker. Throat me to the nut. Put as much spit on it as you can. That’s pretty much the lube I will be using to tear your cunt up. Maybe if you are good, I will use some spit on the cunt. Take your time, but throat me. Get into it faggot. I’m gonna chill here… Open that fucking throat… Gag on that monster….

“You really are pathetic. Get your ass on the bed, face down. Need to tie you down. What? Now you want out? Aww hell the fuck no. I said on the fucking bed. Ok. You really want this to be a rape don’t you? Look I know my way around ropes and tying up livestock. I do work in a farm, and I am a part of the local rodeo. Calling out for help ain’t going to help.

“And, I sent myself a copy of that video where you are begging me to rape you and to show you no mercy. Nobody will believe you. Just a few more seconds, and there! You ain’t going nowhere now. You are going to be in that position for some time. Your cunt is on display, ready to be mounted.

“But first, I’m going to fuckin’ welt you up. I got my son’s belt here; mine doesn’t move through the air as nicely as his, and besides I’m still wearing mine. You don’t even deserve me stripping for you. When it comes to whipping, I don’t stop to let you recover.

“Being your birthday, It’s eighteen strokes in a row. Start your fucking screaming now. One, two, three,… louder fucker, you deserve every one of these strokes… Eight, nine, ten,… I can already see the welts forming. Oh yeah, bright red cheeks get me leaking. When I hit number twenty-five, I’m going right to the root whether or not you are ready. And it’s not going to take me very long to nut in you. Fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, and… eighteen.

“Quit your crying faggot. Here, bite down on my son’s belt. You really have me leaking here. And… all the way in. Fuck yes! This cunt hasn’t been fucked much, has it? Stop your screaming, I asked you a fucking question. You get fucked much?… No?… Wait, that was a cherry pop? Oh fuck yeah. I’m close to giving you some cream to go on your cherry pie. Oh yeah. Fuck. Take it bitch. Feel my load fill you up. Faggot.

“That’s what you have to look forward to for the next few days. Oh man, fuck. I’m gonna lay here for a while. Watch your head, my cigar is only an inch or two from your cheek. I don’t want to brand you,… well at least not yet. Let go of the belt. Holy shit. You really did bite down hard. I can’t wait to give this back to him and tell him how the teethmarks came about.

“Oh yeah, he knows I’m gay. He doesn’t care. He’s totally straight, and I mean totally straight. Now just lay there; you ain’t going anywhere. But I want you to hear this. Yeah, I kept my sex life away from him until one day when he walked in on me fisting his math teacher, Mr. Gunter.

“Oh yeah, he goes to the same high school as you. He too is ready to graduate. You know him, oh yes you do. You’ve been texting him all year, ever since he transferred to your school. You were not very nice to him. In fact, you and a few of your friends beat him up. And what reason did you have for giving him a black eye?… Don’t remember? You called him a faggot. You told your friends that he hit on you in gym class. Talk about projecting.

“When he came home suspended for fighting and with a black eye, I wanted details. He gave me your name and showed me your pic in the yearbook. And wouldn’t you know, I recognized you from your attempted bookstore runs. A week later you start hanging around the diner. You couldn’t get into the bar area, but you sat every Friday afternoon in that same spot in my line of vision, pretending to read that book while groping yourself. So subtle.

“I had your background run by a this cop I regularly fuck. He told me a shitload about you. He’s the one that informed the bookstore across the street that you were underage. There’s a boy—a year older than you—that I fuck who is a Facebook friend of yours showed me your wall. I got to go through every word you wrote while he was giving me head. And unlike you, he knows how to deep throat. Again, having a big dick has its advantages.

“And about that time, you and my son were suspended, you posted a viral video of a bullied kid getting revenge on the bully by sleeping with the bully’s mom. And your comment was something like, ‘Best served cold.’

“Funny thing is, I’m out. While I don’t broadcast it in this tiny town, but I don’t hide it. My son and ex-wife know. The ranch I work at knows. Hell, the main reason how I got the job was that I fucked the owner and told him that I was looking for a job. The guys at the bar all know. So how were you going to humiliate my son? He probably would say, ‘He fucked you? You ain’t the first, you won’t be the last.’ or something like that.

“So, what’s happening next for you? Certainly not humiliating my son. No, for you, I have plans. I’m gonna fuck you again. I’ll leave you tied up. The motel is going to get full later on tonight, mostly truckers. I’ve let the motel owner and the guy that works the bookstore that you are here ready for all horny truckers.

“Tomorrow, I’m going to pass you over to this biker club one of my friends is a member of. He already set up something really nasty for you. The gang already knows what a piece of shit you are. They can’t wait to get their hands on you, and I can’t wait to hear all about it. By the end of the weekend, your cunt will be destroyed. I will give you two black eyes to make up for the one you gave my boy. Most likely your hair will be removed. You are going to be beaten. Hell, my cop buddy is a former boxer. He’s going to string you up and use you as a punching bag.

“And in the end,… I will decide if you keep your balls. Wow. That’s the first time you have flinched while lying under me. Aw, shut up. I work with livestock every day. I know how to castrate a bull. I haven’t decided about you. Just keep that in mind throughout the weekend. You complain or resist, your balls will be in jeopardy.

“You probably won’t see much of me. But I will you. I have it arranged to have it all filmed for me. I expect to see a cum hungry faggot whore knowing his place of being used by real men. Your balls will depend on it. For me, I’m going to be with my son doing dad things.

“And I don’t plan on letting him in to the fact that you are a faggot whore lookin to get raped seeing, he already knows. How do I know? I text him, while you were trying to give me head. I wrote, from your phone, ‘I have to get this off my chest. I am a faggot whore. I can’t live in the closet anymore. Please share this video.’

“Then I sent him your video. While you are going to be in a living hell for the next four days, you won’t be able to stop him or anyone from finding out. This is how I want it. As I said before, I am always in control of everything. Oh, and happy birthday.”

[dimespin]

Saratoan Home Structure

Saratoans live close to 200 years and as a result, any family is guaranteed to be several generations deep - the eldest of a family is almost guaranteed to be a great great grandparent. This is offset by most saratoans never having their own children and the ones that do have children having them a little spaced out.

There are two main types of home structure and a few variations and alternatives

The first is a family home. These homes are somewhat more like a small apartment building rather than a cozy single family home, as it takes a lot of space to house a significant amount of someone's children, grandchildren, great grandchildren, and significant others. These homes are organized around the support of a single matrilineal family line - for example, an elder female, her children, of which, one female went on to have many children, of which one female went on to have many children, etc., - the childless siblings in these families are welcome to stay in these homes but are expected to support the household for the benefit of the children - either through child care or paying into the family's shared budget to keep them all fed

The elder in charge of these homes is not necessarily the eldest grandmother or even female, just whoever of that generation of the family is eldest or was given the role by the actual eldest. This means that these homes can be run by anyone of any gender. The eldest of the household is responsible for running the place in both a capacity somewhat like a landlord and also as a family matriarch or patriarch - they decide who lives there, make demands of rent, but also solve disputes, organize childcare and family bonding activities

They also are somewhat in charge of arranging romantic relationships. Saratoans do not consider sexual/romantic relationships their most important relationship, nor do they stay with such a partner for life (they are serial-monogamists who stick to one mate for a few years at a go), so it's a bit less stifling to them that their elders will try to set them up with the nice young man down the street.

Different homes have different attitudes about their responsibility to the home's reproductive future - some have a very warm and friendly "it's my job to help you find someone you'll like" attitude while others are more controlling regarding their heirs.

The second type of home is a bachelor home. This type of home is run almost exclusively by elder males and contain almost exclusively unrelated males.

If a saratoan reaches adulthood and realizes he wants to have romantic relationships, he has to leave the family home where he would otherwise be expected to remain childless and help raise the family's children. If he'd like to have his own kids and help raise them, he needs to go where he can access that type of relationship, which isn't at home.

Bachelor homes take on that role of giving young male saratoans an opportunity to learn how to live outside the home culture they grew up with (because each family has their quirks) and prove themselves able to handle themselves. Generally residents are in and out of living there and treat the home as a secondary home, since they will move in with their mate when they have children and come back when the children don't need them anymore. The elders in these houses are often friends or at least friendly with the elders of family homes and play matchmaker for their residents.

It's not uncommon for gay saratoans to join these bachelor houses - whether that's socially acceptable entirely depends on the elder in charge. Some are old bigots who insist their responsibility to play matchmaker is specifically to get babies made, while others don't care and add "same gender" to the mental list of resident's preferences along side hair color and hobbies.

Sometimes males will be sexually active while remaining at home by getting with the unrelated life partners of their siblings or going out when others don't notice but this is generally considered sneaky and unscrupulous. Dead beat dad behavior.

The whims of chance sometimes cause family lines to die out for whatever reason. Someone had all sons, someone had very few children, everyone chose to live with their life partner rather than any wanting to live there. Things happen. This can leave an elder with a large space but no one to live there, which will sometimes drive them to choose to open their home to whoever is willing to live there and support the house. This results in what are called dead or dying homes or legacy homes.

These homes sometimes sort themselves out into something more like a family home based on a new population, sometimes they remain open to whoever, or develop a focus on a specific community (like all of them having the same niche hobby or helping down on their luck individuals) or get out of hand under poor management.

Finally, sometimes individuals will choose to live in smaller dwellings with their partner or their partner, romantic partner and only one generation of children. Somewhat like a human nuclear family. These smaller homes are almost always satellites of some broader extended family, and if they have children, the children often end up back at the main family house when their parents kick them out.

Saratoans reach a stage of quasi-independence around age 12 to 14, and remain kid-sized and prepubescent until age 30 to 35. During this stage, where they are called "sprites" they are treated a bit like older teenagers - not respected as real adults, expected to be immature, ignorant and emotionally volatile, but still expected to be in charge of their own care enough to feed themselves, clothe themselves, work, go to school, manage their own time, etc.,

During this stage they are given the freedom to decide where to live (or the "freedom" of having been kicked out and figure that out) and many homes will take them or keep them in the family and have rooms in the building dedicated to them, but tend not to give them a lot of care or oversight.

They are often exploited for childcare, as it's expected in their culture that you are in charge of the life stage below you, yet the 40 something adults that ought to be "in charge" of sprites are not expected to be, creating an unfair gap in the responsibility tree where sprites are in charge of children but no one's in charge of them in the same capacity.

Some homes allow them because social expectation dictates that you're not supposed to turn sprites away, but don't make a real space for them. This results in some homes having strange unrelated sprites just sleeping randomly on their floor like when someone accidentally adopts a cat and no one's allowed to tell them to leave

In the modern age it's become popular for sprites to rent homes together, creating sprite-only homes akin to college students renting a house and having a crowded room mate situation. It's common for sprite houses to have humans around their age living there too, although the mismatch in life stage can be awkward sometimes, since sprites are college age in terms of independence and education level but still effectively children and will play and act like it plenty of the time on top of being tiny.

#refining some things about their culture and redefining some others #saratoan #worldbuilding #long

[delphoxqueen]

TL;DR: Holt Hyde’s Journal (2010)

Sorry my images were more messed up this time around, the copy of the journal I have is all messed up

Holt’s journal can be summarized as-

July 23- Holt wakes up in the moving truck after a long string of continuously moving from place to place in. Which now I’m intrigued as to whether it’s just out coincidence or if his parents move in as the Jekyll’s with other humans but eventually the Hyde’s come out and terrify the town into making them move again.

July 25- Holt tries to stay up to see the sun but falls asleep at the first crack of daybreak- which makes him question if he’s a vampire. Ok but like- what are the rules for him turning into Jackson? I know they switch depending on the music- but now also when they sleep like their father? Confusing. Also does this mean the body never sleeps? How do they not randomly pass out from the body not having rest?

July 27- Holt hangs up flyers in the Maul advertising his DJ business.

August 1- Holt goes around and familiarizes himself with the local families and drama- which gives us some great lore for the home lives of the main cast!

Count Dracula - Draculaura and Dracula live in a huge mansion. Dracula has a shit load of street cred- which now just makes me an AU where they’re gangsters/criminals/murderers instead of monsters. Also Nosferatu is Dracula is in the MH universe.

The Mummy - Holt wants the Mummy’s autograph kind of. Cleo and her dad live in a massive mansion with servants and everything looks like a set. Strangely Holt does not say anything about Nefera living there.

The Werewolf - The Wolf family lives in a small house with apparently a dozen or so children. They’re extremely loyal and protect their family (cause they’re the best family in the MHverse). Clawd is BMOC and Holt says there will be songs about Clawdeen (which as a simp of the goddess, yes- but now I want a version of Cruella De Vil but about Clawdeen)

Frankenstein and His Bride - They live in a Swiss chalet/research lab cross and Holt refers to Frankie as “their new baby” which made me overthink things and made me sick to my stomach- also Frankenstein’s Bride is apparently a bad sexy bitch and yeah I imagine the original queen of screams would be fine as hell.

The Sea Monster - I thought Lagoona’s family lived in Australia but nope- they got a beach house in Salem too. And yes Monster High is set in Salem, Massachusetts. Lagoona’s dad is like this giant eldritch sea creature which I just imagine how adorable it would be if Lagoona just giant beast as a slightly overprotective but caring dad :)

Medusa - Medusa is bad af so you KNOW she has the best house by far. A whole Greek parthenon rip-off. Love it. Medusa has calmed down in her years and now she’s just a subtle badass taking care of her son- but now I’m questioning how her Parthenon-esque building has a porch for Deuce to even fuck us with stone flies.

August 3- Holt does this gig for a “bubblegum dance gig” which just sounds 10/10 sign me up. He sees Draculaura and since nobody can keep up with her dancing he leaves his DJ booth on auto-pilot?! What?! You can just press the auto-DJ button and have it play it for you?!!?!!!!! Anyway she’s like “How do you know who I am?” And Holt’s like “Shit I sound like a stalker now.”

August 10- Operetta and Holt go on a date (never thought of this ship Idea but now It sounds so cute!) but Holt gets pissed at this guy that bumps into her at a concert. They get kicked out. They drive home awkwardly. Does not go well. Guess I should take back the ship idea.

August 11- Operetta’s dad tells Holt’s mom about last night so she scolds Holt about being hotheaded which he gets mad and starts melting pens to.

August 20- Holt decides to take night classes and Operetta’s dad teaches piano (I would laugh but I will admit I’m a peasant who hasn’t seen Phantom of the Opera)

September 5- Holt writes a song. I would say I hate it but I can hate on something that’s nowhere near as bad as the shit I’ve written in the past.

Entire Journal- Dramatic irony. That is all. Though now I’m scared to see if there’s Jackson x Holt ship fanart. Who am I kidding. There definitely is.

Not as great as Clawd’s diary but good :)

Here’s an extra photo I couldn’t add on the other post!

#monsterhigh #monster high dolls #holt hyde #Jackson x holt #monster high #jackson jekyll #MHdiaries

[handsmotif]

The Queercoding of Pinky and the Brain

This originally was just me infodumping to my friends on discord, but I decided it might be interesting to some people on here, so I polished it up and made it an actual essay lmao

To start, we’re going to break this into 2 sections -- the relationship between the mice, and Pinky’s relationship with gender, because queercoding doesn’t just mean gay!

For a 90′s show, Pinky and the Brain (and its mother show, Animaniacs) was very progressive for its time! But there were still lots of things that they couldn’t slip by censors, and thus, that’s where we have to read between the lines. And that is something I wanted to clarify here before we dive in, the actual meaning of queercoding. It’s NOT the same as queerbaiting. Queerbaiting is when the people producing certain media purposefully dangle the possibility of queer representation to lure in audiences (most prominent examples are BBC Sherlock, Riverdale, and Supernatural I GUESS? who knows abt that last one anymore), but never follow through, purely for profit. Queercoding is when media producers WANT to write in queer representation, but can’t, usually because the censors won’t let them. So, they must resort to subtext. (example: the policemen from Gravity Falls) It could also be unintentional, simply assigning certain characteristics associated with the LGBT community to characters. (example: Bugs Bunny, many Disney villains) Either way, it heavily relies on the audience picking up subtext, but whether it’s malicious or not varies, depending on the media. Bugs Bunny is an example of positive accidental queercoding, while a lot of Disney villains are negative examples.

Now, to actually discuss the gay little mice! Pinky and the Brain, whether it be intentional or not (based off comments from Maurice LaMarche, Rob Paulsen, and Tom Ruegger, signs strongly point to intentional, but it’s never been explicitly confirmed), is an example of positive queercoding.

There are many moments that I could pick out to discuss here, but we’ll start with some VERY on the nose gay metaphors. 

Remember Romy? If you don’t, that’s their actual biological son! Romy came about due to a cloning accident, where their DNA got combined and spat him out. 

There’s SO many things I could say about Romy. Every appearance he makes has an overarching gay metaphor as the plot. His first appearance in the episode Brinky (yeah it’s literally titled their ship name), it deals with his dads (WHICH I ALSO WANT TO POINT OUT, he DOES call them both dad, and they do both call him their son) disapproving of the fact that he wants to leave home and not follow in their footsteps of taking over the world. Brain even goes as far as disowning him whenever he tells him, which is certainly something a lot of queer people can unfortunately relate to. Also seen a lot in this episode is Pinky and Brain arguing even more than a married couple than usual, which pushes Romy away even further. Later, when Romy eventually does leave, and Brain starts to regret chasing him away, he tries desperately to reach out to him, but Romy doesn’t want anything to do with him. They end up tracking him down to an apartment building, where Romy is now living with his human girlfriend. When questioned about their relationship, the girlfriend, named Bunny, goes off on a tangent about how people shouldn’t judge others based on labels or relationships (hello?), and that Brain needs to be more tolerant. Brain apologizes and Romy forgives him. Happy ending.

Romy’s only other appearance is in the comics. Essentially, the plot of this one is that Brain wants to become the president of the local high school’s PTA, but he needs Romy’s help to make it look like he has a normal home life. He also enlists the help of Billie, the obligatory Woman introduced to make sure Brain doesn’t look as gay as he actually is, that he has a crush on. She pretends to be his girlfriend, and Pinky pretends to be Romy’s uncle, while they make up the story that Romy’s actual mother was lost at sea. Because if the organization found out that Brain has a son with a MAN??? THINK of the controversy! Anyway, the plan works, and Brain actually manages to get elected as president. Throughout this though, Pinky gets WEIRDLY jealous that Brain keeps brushing him aside for Billie. To the point where during Brain’s inauguration, Pinky actually dresses up as the wife/mother lost at sea and storms into the room.

[ID: Comic panels of Pinky, Brain, and Romy on stage at the inauguration ceremony. Pinky busts into room wearing drag, saying, “Yoo hoo! I’m back from years lost at sea to be with my son and ungrateful husband! Narf!” He then hugs Romy, while glaring at Brain. He goes on to say, “I’ll stand by your side, even though you left me behind!” The people in the audience begin to question this, saying, “Oh great fuzzy bangs!”, “What’d she say?!”, “He deserted her to be with that other woman!”, “What kind of monster is he?!”. Brain then rips off Pinky’s wig and says, “This isn’t my wife! This isn’t even a woman! It’s my roommate, Pinky.” Pinky replies, “Well, yes... But Romy really is my son! Poit!” And Brain responds, “N-Nonsense! He’s my son!” More people in the audience angrily speak up, saying, “What’s that?”, “He lives with a guy who likes to dress up in women’s clothing and the both claim to be that kid’s father!”, “Grumble! Mutter!” /END ID]

Needless to say, this doesn’t end well for them. What we can conclude from this is that homophobia exists in the Pinky and the Brain universe, and our characters are directly affected by it.

Moving on, And-There-Was-Only-One-Bed is a pretty common occurrence with these two. Their cage is big, they have plenty of room for two beds, but? They choose to sleep together? Even in some times where this has been inconsistent and they DO have separate beds, they’re always RIGHT next to each other. (what if we put our minecraft beds together ❤😳)

I would like to mention the episode, You’ll Never Eat Food Pellets In This Town Again! This episode is interesting to say the least. Deals with a lot of the meta of the show. Anyway. In this episode, Brain has a nightmare that he’s in a loveless marriage with Billie. You know, the woman he’s supposed to have a crush on. In the end, he wakes up from the nightmare in the same bed as Pinky.

Speaking of female love interests, Pinky is seen having multiple relationships with characters of different species. Any time this is brought up by Brain, Pinky counters with Brain being too intolerant. An honorable mention with this is in Wakko’s Wish, when Pinky is with Pharfignewton, and Brain’s constant pestering about their relationship could be read as jealousy. Pinky needs a mousy date, after all!

Something else I would like to mention is in one episode (I forget what it’s called, I’ll try to look it up later and edit this), Brain is applying for a job. The employer asks Brain if he’s married, and Brain hesitates before saying he “has a roommate,” but that he’s occupied with his own things, which then cuts to a shot of Pinky applying lipstick.

Leading into part two of this essay, Pinky’s relationship with gender! Pinky has always been very gender nonconforming, and loves to wear dresses, do his makeup, and make himself look pretty. For the most part, this is played pretty straight, and not as a gag, like a lot of shows tend to do! It’s just a casual fact about him that he likes to present femininely sometimes.

This does play into their taking over the world plans pretty often, where Pinky wears drag, usually either to sneak into somewhere. Like in one of their earliest appearances on Animaniacs, Noah’s Lark, where they pose as a couple to board Noah’s, and I quote, “love boat.” After boarding, Noah says to himself, “Who am I to judge?” Okay. Yeah. Alright. Anyway.

I actually had less to say on this than I thought I did, but I wanted to make sure to emphasize that Pinky at the very least is coded as being Not Quite Cis, and that he’s played a key part in helping a lot of people watching the show figure out that they’re also Not Quite Cis. 

Wrapping this up because I’m hungry, but I want to throw in some more honorable mentions that I really do not see any type of cishet explanations for:

They literally go on a romantic date at a very fancy restaurant in Brain’s Night Off. This is played extremely casually, and the only remark from anyone that they receive is that they are “much smaller than the usual clients.”

Pinky, on at least one occasion, daydreams about him and Brain being a married couple, and wanting to be a housewife (the original malewife ❤)

There’s an issue in the comics where Pinky has a crush on another male mouse, and when Brain gets annoyed, Pinky reassures him that he thinks Brain is cute and quite the catch too

Brain attempting to kiss Pinky in the reboot??????

Brain actually did conquer the world once in the Halloween special, because Pinky made a deal with the devil for it, and thus Pinky got sent to hell! Brain actually went to hell and gave up the world to bring him back

Brain was extremely close to conquering the world once more in the Christmas special, but after reading what Pinky’s feelings for him were (nothing romantic, just Pinky basically just praising Brain for being so hardworking and an amazing mouse, and lamenting that he never gets anything for it), he gets so emotional that he sabotages himself and wishes everyone a Merry Christmas instead

TLDR; these mice are very queer and need therapy, and are probably the most heavily queercoded characters that I can think of in children’s media.

#animaniacs #pinky and the brain #patb #brinky #FLOPS ON THE FLOOR this took a long time to write

[skzsauce01]

A Good Man

Anniversary Request Special

Description: Seungmin loves you so much so that he wished he was the one left behind in the plane crash, not your late husband.

Warning: guilt, plane crash, death

Word Count: 2k

Pairing: fem!reader x Seungmin

Chan was a good man— loyal, loving, reliable. Seungmin is a good man too, but Seungmin is not Chan, and he knows it. He knows it well.

He approaches you, bouquet in hand. You turn and smile when you hear him.

“Hi, Seungmin.”

“Hello, Y/N. Where’s Miyeon?”

“I left her with her grandma. She isn’t quite old enough to sit still for stuff like this yet.”

“I see.” He set the flowers by the picture of his late leader. “I should leave the two of you alone then.”

“No, wait, Seungmin,” you stop him. “Would you like to have dinner with us this evening?” 

You’re inviting him to dinner? His eyes slide to Chan’s framed smiling face. No, he mustn’t get his hopes up. There probably isn’t something more to this invitation. You probably just don’t want to be alone on your late husband’s fifth death anniversary. “Sure. Where? I’ll see if any of the boys are free too.”

“No, I meant just the three of us at my place,” you clarify. “I… I have something to say.” 

Seungmin can’t stop his heart from accelerating even though he knows it’ll hurt more later. “O-okay.”

You nod and turn back to the memorial. Seungmin watches as you whisper something into the single white carnation in your hand and set it on the altar before he himself turns to give you room.

He finds it ironic that he was actually the reason why you and Chan were together. You were his classmate whom he reunited with when Stray Kids did a reality show at a site you worked. He was even the best man at your wedding. He remembers that day clearly— that day when he saw you walking down the aisle dressed in white. He’d never felt so sick as he did then when realization and regret hit him all at once. He loves you. Since when, and for how long, he didn’t and doesn’t know, but it was and is too late. 

He finds it even more ironic, however, that he is the reason you two are now torn apart.

He raises his finger and presses the bell. Within seconds, the door is thrown open wide and a bubbly five year old greets him. “Hello, Uncle Seungmin!”

He automatically bends down and scoops the child up. “Hi there, Miyeon. Have you been a good girl today?”

“Uh-huh! You can ask Mommy!”

As if on cue, you pop out from the kitchen. “Yes, she’s been a well-behaved angel. Welcome in, Seungmin.” 

You take the melon he’d brought while he takes off his shoes. Seungmin’s a bit surprised to see three lit candles on the dining table when he walks in, but says nothing of it. He does, however, raise an eyebrow when you off-handedly mention you baked his favourite chocolate cake. He knows the recipe calls for red wine, and for a single mother such as you, anything that does not involve your child usually does not fit into your schedule, let alone cross your mind. 

After dinner, you take your daughter to her playroom upstairs with a large plate of cookies that are obviously meant to keep her distracted for a while.

Seungmin watches as you scurry back downstairs afterwards. You’re wearing a skirt. He doesn’t remember you wearing a skirt since you gave birth. He thinks you’re gorgeous in anything, but the effort you put into looking nice makes him blush a shade darker.

“Shall we?” you dramatize, pulling out the dessert.

Seungmin helps lay out two plates while you serve a slice onto each.

“You mentioned you have something to say?” he asks as you both tuck your chairs in.

Are you blushing, or is it just the heat from these candles?

“I, uh… Let’s eat first.” You smile sheepishly. “I haven’t had this in so long.”

Despite having his favourite dessert, Seungmin cannot concentrate on its taste at all. He watches as you cut through the moist cake with your fork. He can tell you’re nervous by the way your joints are turning white by your grip on the utensil. He’s used to being the anxious one, so this is new. What could have gotten you so on edge?

At last, you’ve scraped every last drop of cream you can procrastinate with into your mouth. Seungmin takes the plates and sets them into the sink before sitting back down in front of you, waiting patiently.

“What I want to say is,” you begin carefully. 

He nods once and leans forward, letting you know you have his attention.

“We’ve known each other for a while now, haven’t we?”

“Yes, why?” Goodness, this sounds like a line from every other friends-to-lover romcom skit. Not that he would mind. As long as you tell him you feel the same way he does, he wouldn’t care if you quoted “Twilight” verbatim. Oh, to be in a lighthearted romcom with you, Seungmin dreams of nothing more. Then again, he reminds himself, these are just dreams.

“Ever since… ever since Chan passed, we grew closer, and I depended on you a lot. You’ve been my cornerstone, and I wanted to say ‘thank you.’”

He nods again, but doesn’t say anything. He knows you enough by now to recognize you have more on your mind.

Indeed, you continue. “And over these past five years, my heart has—”

“Mommy!” A sudden cry sends you both to your feet. 

“I’ll tell you later,” you toss over your shoulder to Seungmin who’s running right on your heels towards the cry.

“Miyeon!” you gasp, seeing the state of your daughter. Somehow, she has managed to squeeze through the gaps between the railing of the stairs and is hanging from the second floor. Below her, her stuffed monkey lays sprawled out on ground level.

“I’ll pull her up,” you decide, but Seungmin stops you.

“It’ll be hard to fit her back through those rails, and she’s crying too much to cooperate.” He stands under your daughter and extends his arms upwards. “Miyeon? Miyeon, let go. Uncle Seungmin will catch you. You’re going to be alright.”

The little girl stops wailing for a moment and looks down only to cry again from the intimidating height.

“Sweetie, it’s okay. You can do it. We won’t let you fall,” you add in. “You trust us, don’t you? You trust Mommy and Uncle Seungmin?”

She quiets down again and sniffles as she looks at you and Seungmin now instead of the floor. Her tiny arms are shaking, and you brace yourself, knowing she’s going to fall soon whether she wants to or not.

Miyeon whimpers once more and closes her eyes. She then finally releases her grip and lands squarely into Seungmin’s awaiting arms.

“Oof. There we go. Safe and sound,” he assures her. 

Once she’s set on the floor, Miyeon again begins to bawl from shock. “Mr— Mr. Bananas wanted to climb. Mr. Bananas wanted to climb!” she sobs, gripping the stuffed animal you’ve returned back to her arms.

“Okay, okay, we understand. Still, no more climbing for you or Mr. Bananas, alright?” hushes Seungmin.

You pick up your daughter and bounce her on your shoulder. “I think she’s learned her lesson. I didn’t think we still needed baby rails, but I guess you can never be safe enough.”

Seungmin reaches for Miyeon. “Let’s put her to bed. She must be exhausted after all that.”

You nod and let him carry the five year old up the stairs once more. You have him wait downstairs though as you change the child, so he heads back down and makes himself comfortable on the couch. On the lamp table beside him, there’s a photo of you and Chan excitedly holding up an ultrasound. It is the only picture of the three of you together.

He runs this thumb over the other man’s face, wiping it free of any dust. “I’m sorry…” he whispers. “I know it’s not worth much, but I’ll keep Y/N and Miyeon safe and happy. I promise.” 

He quickly sets down the picture and stands when he hears you closing the bedroom door. 

“Is she alright?” Seungmin asks when he sees your head appear from around the corner.

You nod, descending the steps quietly. “She’s sleeping now. She’ll forget all about it by tomorrow morning.”

“I wish I could say the same when I get hurt. I can’t even sit in certain positions anymore,” he jokes.

You laugh lightly. “I’m glad you were here, Seungmin. Things could have been a lot different if it were just me.”

“I’m always happy to help. I should get going now though. You must be tired too.”

“Wait.” Your voice stops him at the front door. “The accident… I’m thankful you were here, and I realized it had to be you. You had to be the one to do it.”

His stupid hope is rising again. He can feel it in his chest. “Y/N, what are you saying?”

“Miyeon, she wouldn’t have trusted anyone except you. She needs you, and I… I need you too.” 

Is he hearing incorrectly? His silence and bewilderment prompts you to explain. “The thing is, ever since Chan passed five years ago, you were the only one who’s been by my side, supporting and caring for me, and slowly, I’ve fallen for that. Seungmin, I know I come with a lot of baggage, but would you be willing to give us a try?”

He wants to jump, he wants to cheer, he wants to accept your confession, but none of this makes sense to logical Seungmin, so he restrains himself.

“Y/N, do you realize what you’re saying?”

You nod. “I-I know it’s sudden, but I like you, Kim Seungmin.”

“But you love Chan.”

You hesitate but nod in agreement anyway. “I’m not going to put you second. I—”

“Y/N, I killed Chan. Don’t you see? You should hate me instead. If it weren’t for me, you’d still have your husband, and Miyeon would still have a dad. If I hadn’t stood under that propeller after the plane crash, Chan wouldn’t have had to push me and get crushed in the head. I killed Chan, and no matter what I do— no matter how much I love you too— I can never stand in his place.”

You take a moment to stare at him, trying to read his body language after that confession of insecurity. After a while, you straighten your back and look him right in the eyes.

“You’re right.” He’s startled by your sudden firm tone. “You can never be Chan. You’re not a music-producing insomniac. You’re not Australian. You’re not born with curly hair.”

He swallows and hangs his head.

“But,” you continue. “I’m not looking for another Chan. I’m not looking to replace him; I’m looking for you.”

“Y/N…”

You soften your voice. “When I found out how he passed saving you, I knew I was going to be okay. I knew Chan wouldn’t leave me and his unborn child to fend for ourselves. He saved you because he knew he could count on you, and it’s why I trusted you from the beginning and why I let myself fall in love again.”

You walk up to him and take his hands. “Let me ask this again. Will you, Kim Seungmin, stand by my side, not as Chan, but as someone who loves and is loved?”

His heart pounds in his head, yet he cannot take his eyes off of yours. His throat is tied into knots, yet he cannot stop the words from tumbling out.

“Nothing would make me happier,” he breathes. 

You smile and wrap him in a hug, which he finally returns. Just then, footsteps thump down the stairs and a five year old child waddles into view.

“Mommy?” she calls. She then takes a moment to look around before her eyes land on Seungmin. “Daddy?”

#kim seungmin #seungmin #stray kids #seungmin fic #seungmin imagine #stray kids fic #stray kids imagine #seungmin angst #seungmin fluff #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff #fem reader #anniversary special #20210820