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allysunny · 4 months

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(You're) My Antidote Pt. 3 | Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader

ˡᵒᵛᵉˡʸ ᵐᶦᵍᵘᵉˡ ᵃʳᵗ ᵇʸ ᵖᶦⁿᵏᶦᵉᵐᵐᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵗᵘᵐᵇˡʳ

ᵖᵃʳᵗ ¹ | ᵖᵃʳᵗ ² | ᵖᵃʳᵗ ³

Synopsys: Your pregnancy is coming to an end, and Miguel is getting desperate. You're getting sicker and sicker, and your baby seems to be causing more harm than good, as his antidotes. He's running out of time. But Miguel is willing to do anything to ensure your well-being, as well as the well-being of his child.

Words: 8.2k words

Warnings: Angst, fluff, exhausted-Miguel, but also very soft-Miguel, hospitals, very bad science, like, really, really bad science, pain and screaming, syringes, blood, mentions of a difficult labour, births, a very cheesy and corny ending, untranslated Spanish (please correct me if any of it is wrong!). Do mention if I forgot something!

A/N: Hello everyone! I'm here to finally deliver Part 3 of (You're) My Antidote! This one is a little longer than the previous parts, but I guess you can figure out why. Also, I took very big artistic liberties with all of the science talk in this part. Please let me inform everyone that I DO NOW KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT SCIENCE! Everything in here except for the childbirth part is COMPLETELY MADE UP!

So if there are any science majors or doctors out there reading this, please do not burn me at the stake. I really did try my best.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy the conclusion to this series! I had a blast :)

“Her vitals are stable, but we don’t know how much longer they’ll stay that way.” Spider-Doc said, looking at the file on his tablet. “She’s lost a lot of blood and it’s likely she’ll feel weak and sick for a while. We might have to keep her here for a few days before she can return home.”

If she returns home at all.

Miguel was staring at you. Lovely, beautiful, sickly you, lying on a hospital bed. He watched the slow rise and fall of your chest, and winced when his eyes caught the oxygen mask that covered the lower half of your face.

After you’d started bleeding on your bed, he’d taken you to the Spider Society Medical Centre, worried sick. He’d refused to leave the room as every medically inclined Spider-Person ran exams on you. He wasn’t allowed inside your room (He might be the leader of Spider Society, but doctors were doctors, and it didn’t matter how worried he was – he wanted them to do the best they could with no distractions) and paced back and forth in front of the door, until eventually allowed back inside.

“And the baby?” he asked, unable to keep his eyes of you.

“Miraculously, the baby survived. We’re not sure what caused the bleeding, but one of our possible theories is that the baby is destroying her uterus from inside. All the thrashing around must’ve caused the bleeding. The baby is fine, and so is she, but we don’t know how long for.” Spider-Doc looked through his files, scribbling down things with a pen. “We will be able to run further exams, but only after she wakes up. Most of them require her consent.”

Miguel nodded and sat down next to your bed, holding your hand gently, afraid to break you. The oxygen mask covering your face was far too daunting, a harsh reminder of the state you were in, and how much you were suffering.

“What… What’s the probability of them both making it out alive?” he asked, squeezing your hand.

Spider-Doc sighed.

“We don’t know that yet, but… Miguel, it’s likely it won’t happen. The baby, it’s – it’s getting far too strong. It’s not a regular child because he has your genes. And all of the antidote you’ve been giving your wife, well, it soothes him for a while, but as I’m sure you’ve been told before, the baby is growing immune to it, and it’s only hurting your wife more and more.” He paused, glancing at you. “If we don’t find a way to cure it permanently, you might have to choose between one or the other.”

Miguel’s heart broke at the words.

How was he supposed to choose between the love of his life, and his child? His child, that he’d grown to love in this short period of time. The child he hadn’t gotten the chance to know yet, but still harboured a love as deep as the one he had for you.

But on the other hand, this was the child that was killing you.

He’d always wanted a family. You’d always wanted a family. He remembered the day you told him you were pregnant. How happy the two of you were, celebrating and fantasizing about the future, about your little family.

He’d get to come home to his loving wife and kid at the end of a tiring day, both reminding him of why he did what he did, why he risked his life over and over again for the sake of the multiverse. He’d cradle his baby on his arms, marvelling over how such a small, pure creature could’ve come from imperfect, impure him.

He’d watch you as you sang and rocked your baby to sleep, heart melting at the sight of you being a mother – a look he’d wanted on you ever since you told him you’d like a little family of your own.

And now, it was all going down the drain.

The baby was hurting you.

Miguel was hurting you too, with all those syringes and needles he made sure to insert into you. “It’s for your own good”, he’d say, eyes brimming with tears as you begged him not to. And yet, he insisted on sedating you and giving you the antidote, all to make sure you could keep on living.

Your reasoning started out as “Do it. I don’t mind the pain if our baby is fine” and had quickly changed to “You’re hurting him with your antidote Miguel, please stop.” What was Miguel supposed to do when your reasoning basically contradicted itself? You wanted the best for your child, and so did he. But the very thing that was curing it, was also causing it more harm.

“Is there anything else I can do for you, Miguel?” Spider-Doc asked, tugging the files back under his arm.

“No, thank you Doctor. That’ll be all.”

The doctor nodded and promptly left, allowing Miguel some alone time with his wife.

Usually, he’d make sure no one was there to see him as vulnerable as this. But today, Miguel did not care. The love of his life was dying, and because of the child he’d helped make.

It’s all my fault. I’m a freak. I’m a monster. If it weren’t for me, she’d have a normal pregnancy. She’d have a normal child, a normal family. If it weren’t for me being the monster I am, she wouldn’t be in pain. It’s all my fault. I’m a selfish bastard who should’ve never fallen for her in the first place. I knew I couldn’t give her a normal life like everyone else, so why did I still pursue her? If I truly did love her, I’d have left her alone and let her lead a normal life.

This was the internal monologue going inside Miguel’s head. He allowed himself to cry, big tears rolling down his cheek and falling on the floor. Was it selfish of him? Back when you started dating, you told him you didn’t care about who he was. Spider-Man, big Alchemax genius, saviour of the multiverse. You didn’t care for any of those titles. All you wanted was your Miguel, your Miggy. You told him you’d love him forever, no matter what.

You’d love him in his good days, you’d love him through his bad days. You’d kiss his scars and run your fingers through his head and calm him down. You’d celebrate his victories and comfort him during his losses. You’d be there, no matter what.

“I don’t care what you are, Miggy. I love you. Isn’t that enough?” Those were the words you’d always say to him whenever he tried to reason with you, telling you he was a dangerous man, that he could not provide you with the life you deserved. And you never missed a beat, replying “The life I deserve is with you. The life I want is with you.”

And had he been selfish for wanting that? Had he been selfish for wanting a life with you as well? Had he been selfish for fighting for what he wanted for once in his life, instead of giving it up?

A small, gentle hand tugged at his brown curls, and he looked up to find you staring at him through almost closed eyes. Your chest still rose and fell with your breathing, which seemed more stable now. Miguel couldn’t see the entirety of your face, but he found your eyes and the dam broke.

He sobbed into his hands, shaking his head.

“I’m so sorry… This is all my fault… It’s my fault that I’m such a monster and have cursed our child with my genes…” Having heard this, you pulled on his hair, this time harsher. He looked up and saw your eyebrows furrowed in a frown. You shook your head gently and placed a finger to his lips, shutting him up. Your other hand found your stomach and rubbed circles there.

“If it weren’t for me…” Another harsh tug. He did not need to see the rest of your face to know you’d be scolding him right now if you could. You were never one to throw pity parties – you loved him, you said it often, and you were sure of your decisions.

“I love you,” he said, standing up to press a kiss to your forehead. You closed your eyes and instinctively leaned into his touch. “Get some rest, alright? I’ll be here if you need me.” Saying this, he sat back down on the chair, and quietly watched you.

Later that day, some of your closest friends of the Spider Society would stop to check up on you and wish you well. Peter B. brought Mayday and tried to cheer you up by allowing her to perform a series of stunts (if he could call “swinging around the hospital room with her web-shooter” stunts) and telling you jokes.

Jessica had dropped by your apartment and brought her some spare clothes, as well as some of the things she knew you couldn’t live without – your phone, the books you were currently interested in, and other basic items like a hairbrush and a toothbrush. Miguel hated what that implied – that you’d be in here for a while, long enough for you to need these things, but he was willing to do whatever was best to keep you safe.

Miles and Gwen stopped by too, chatting with you calmly and telling you about whatever shenanigans they had been up to in their respective dimensions. It always cheered you up to listen to those two talk. You loved how vibrant and passionate they were about their job as Spider-People, and they always made you insanely proud.

After a few hours, Miguel ushered everyone away, arguing that you needed peace and quiet. They all promised to come back later, and the two of you were left alone once again.

The Spider-Doctors had allowed you to remove your oxygen mask if you felt up for it, so you placed it near your body and tried to distract Miguel out of his worries.

“I’ve been thinking of a few baby names,” you said, caressing your stomach, an action that had become second nature to you.

“¿En serio?” he mumbled. Miguel had pushed his chair as close to your bed as possible, to make sure he could cater to you at all times and help you if you needed. He was currently laying his head next to your torso, and he was facing you. A rather uncomfortable position, but as long as he got to be next to you, that was all right.

“Yeah. I’ve been thinking, if it’s a boy, we can call him Henry.”

Miguel snorted.

“What’s wrong with Henry?” you asked him, pouting.

“We’re not naming our child Henry.” Miguel deadpanned, raising an eyebrow.

“I think it’s a lovely name.”

“Yes, maybe. But not for our child.”

You huffed, flicking his forehead softly.

“Ouch – hey! What was that for?” He asked, lifting his head ever so slightly.

“You’re not taking this seriously.” You looked away, visibly upset.

“No – no, look at me.” When you refused to do it, Miguel lifted his hand to turn your head towards his, so he could look you in the eye. “Mi vida, I’m sorry. I am taking this seriously. I just personally don’t really like Henry. What are some of your other ideas?”

You huffed again and he had to try and hide his smile. You looked rather adorable like this, even if he would never tell you.

“I like Lucas.”

“Hm.”

“You hate it.”

“I don’t – “

“You do, Miggy, I know it! I can see it in your face – that’s the same expression you had when you tried my mom’s empanadas.” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“Cariño, I love your mother, but those empanadas were terrible.” Miguel calmly replied.

“You’re making that same face now.”

“And how can you be so sure it’s a boy?”

“I told you, I can feel it. Call it maternal instinct.” You smiled, and he couldn’t help but smile with you.

“What do you think about Gabriel?”

Now it was your turn to furrow your brows.

“Gabriel? As in – “

“Yeah.” He looked at your stomach and hesitantly placed a hand on top of it. He wanted so badly to communicate with the baby growing inside of you, apologise to him for making him the way he was, and beg him to please stop hurting you. “What do you think?”

You hummed, and grinned.

“I love it.”

Miguel’s head snapped upwards, and his eyes widened.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I like it. Gabriel. I think it’s lovely.”

Miguel leaned upwards and placed the sweetest of kisses on your lips, savouring the sweetness of your words, your body, your soul.

“Gabriel it is then.”

You two remained in silence for a while, before you decided to speak up once again.

“I can’t wait to meet him.” Your voice was low, and Miguel could sense the sheer adoration and utter love you had for your unborn child. “I can’t wait to hold him, and to see you hold him. I’ve always wanted a family with you.”

Miguel did not speak.

“It’ll be fine, Miggy. Everything will be fine.” It was odd. Usually, it was him who had to comfort you. After all, you were the one lying on a hospital bed. “I love you so much. You know that, right?”

He looked up and offered you a small smile, taking your hand and giving it a kiss.

“I do. I love you too. You, and our baby. I would do anything for the both of you. You know that, don’t you?”

You smiled. A sad smile, that said everything you couldn’t find the words to.

“I do, Miggy.”

You puckered your lips, silently begging him for a kiss, which he obliged you with. He tilted your head upwards and kissed you slowly, tongue lazily tracing your bottom lip before you parted your mouth to welcome him. Although weak, your hands still found strength to clutch his shirt and pull him tighter against you.

“I can’t wait to have a family with you,” you whispered against his lips.

Miguel nodded and slowly untangled himself from your grasp.

“You should rest, my love.”

After you’d fallen asleep, Miguel exited the hospital room and made his way to his laboratory.

Lyla’s gleaming form appeared before him, taking her heart-shaped glasses so she could see him better.

“Miguel? Is that you?” she asked, disappearing from her spot, and appearing once again right in front of his face. “I heard what happened. I’m really sorry. Shouldn’t you be with her right now?”

“We need to work on a cure.” Miguel ignored her as he walked towards his workstation, glaring at the papers scattered around. Formulas, calculations, drawings, and sheets filled with words. He had to be getting closer to the cure, right? All those sleepless, restless nights couldn’t have been for nothing. Miguel was one of the smartest men in his universe, clearly there must’ve been something he hadn’t tried yet.

“Miguel, we’ve talked about this. You need to go to her,” Lyla sighed. If she could get tired, she would, really. “Jessica and I are still working on the research. We’re trying our hardest, but you have to – “

“We’re running out of time, Lyla!” Miguel yelled, sending the papers flying all over the room. “She’s getting worse. That baby is killing her, Lyla. It’s killing her, and the antidotes I’m coming up with are just hurting her more… You were right…” He placed his hands on his desk, leaning his head on the top. “You were right, the baby is growing immune and making the antidote stronger will only hurt her further… I don’t know what to do anymore…”

Lyla sighed, her figure flickering in the darkness. She appeared once more next to Miguel, looking at the few papers that managed to stay intact. Her holographic fingers ran through a few lines of text, analysing them.

“All of these formulas… You’ve been increasing the power of the antidote… Making it stronger and stronger to sedate the baby as much as you can… You’ve been far too aggressive on your approach, Miguel.”

“What?” he asked, not even daring to look up.

“Yeah, I mean,” Lyla flickered over to other papers, scanning them and reading them a few times, before returning to Miguel’s side and booting up her results to his computer. “Look at this. You’ve been so focused on sedating the baby, you haven’t even tried to build [Y/N]’s defences up.”

Miguel furrowed his brows, glancing at Lyla in disbelief.

“I did that. With patch 3.4. I fortified them, see?” Using his fingers, he tapped away on his screens, zooming in on a few lines and notes, and then sliding the screen so he could see the matching blood results. “See? Look at the white blood cells.”

“Yes, but still, you’re focusing too much on the offensive side of things.” Lyla quickly sparkled before his eyes, and in a flash, she was inserting sketches and drawings on the picture that shone on the screen. She was crossing out words and numbers and letters and replacing them with her own. “Look, over here. You decided to strengthen the defences, but you also doubled down on the sedative effects. You make it strong for yourself because you’re a grown man. We’re talking about a baby here.”

“A baby that is killing my wife.”

“A baby, nevertheless. The baby’s genes are triggering a response in [Y/N]’s body. What if we reprogram her white blood cells, specifically the T cells and natural killers cells, to recognise and neutralise the foreign elements?” Lyla turned to him and removed her sunglasses.

“We’re not messing with my wife’s genetic code, Lyla. That is out of the question.” Miguel knew the price one had to pay for such a thing. And he wasn’t about to risk your well-being. Who knew what could happen should he try to do something as drastic?

“But what if we don’t have to? We can reinforce the white blood cells in the antidote. We can tweak the core essence of the antidote itself, with Essence Cells – tiny protectors we can unleash to recalibrate the energy balance between her. They’ll form a shield that actively repels the negative influence from the baby’s unique energy pattern.”

Miguel placed a hand on his chin, going over what Lyla had told him.

It was true, he’d been far too preoccupied with tackling the baby issue. But he also knew that strengthening your defences could cause the baby to get stronger and stronger as opposed to stagnate.

“Essence Cells? Can we really do that?”

Lyla shrugged.

“It’s a stretch, but we’re dealing with extraordinary circumstances. If we manipulate the energy signatures in her bloodstream, we might create a defensive barrier that counteracts the harm all of the baby has been doing.”

Miguel faced his papers once again.

“It’s a long shot Miguel, but at this point, what do you have to lose?”

“I can lose [Y/N] – “

“What’s fortifying her defences gonna make? Worst case scenario, her immune system grows.”

Miguel stared at the screen. He remained silent.

“It wouldn’t hurt to try.” Lyla voiced one last time.

It wouldn’t. If it worked, you’d be safe. The baby would be safe.

If it didn’t, he’d at least buy you more time.

And prolong your suffering, a little voice whispered in his head.

He shook that nasty thought away.

“Let’s do it.”

You’d been doing fine.

You’d been healthy, colour had returned to your cheeks, and you seemed to be healing just fine. The baby hadn’t caused much trouble, sometimes kicking you harder than a normal baby should, but, overall, behaving.

The new antidote mix seemed to be working.

Miguel was currently sitting by your side, reading your favourite book out loud. You claimed you were “far too tired” to pick it up, but Miguel knew you simply liked the cadence of his voice. No matter. He’d read to you as many times as you wanted if it meant you’d be fine.

“You sound so nice,” you mumbled, eyes slowly closing. You were close to falling asleep, although it wasn’t even near 3PM. Sure, you were healing, but having a baby that shared 50% of his genes with your vampire-ninja-spiderman husband (as Miles so charmingly put it) was tiresome, and you found yourself exhausted even before lunch time on most days.

“I’m sure the baby likes to hear you too,” you yawned. Miguel smiled at the sight. Although not the ideal location, this is all Miguel has ever wanted for you. A quiet, peaceful, healthy pregnancy with him catering to your every need, and you just sitting pretty as not to strain yourself much.

“I can’t wait to hear him,” rubbing the sleep away from your eyes, you sit up – or rather, try to. Miguel is next to you in milliseconds, propping you up with pillows and making sure you were comfortable.

“This alright?” he asked, fluffing up a pillow behind you.

“Perfect,” you smiled and kissed his jaw affectionately. “You know, I’ve been thinking.”

“That’s never good,” he chided with a fake worried expression.

“Ha ha, very funny. But I wanna get out of here.”

Miguel took a sharp breath.

“I know what you’re gonna say, Miggy, but I need to get out. Just for a while. I can walk, you know? I’m tired of being in this damn hospital bed for so long. I promise it’ll be fine; you can even come with me! Please? Exercising is good for the baby.”

“[Y/N]…” Miguel sighed, reaching out to hold your face.

You were quicker though and held his hands with your own.

“Please, Miguel. You can accompany me or chaperone me, or whatever you want to call it. But I’ve been getting better, and all I want is to move around a bit. I’ll be fine. And after we go for a walk, I’ll return to bed, I promise.”

Miguel looked into your pleading eyes and saw how badly you needed this. You’d been lying in a hospital bed for a few weeks now, after lying in your own bed at home for a few months. It wasn’t the greatest lifestyle, and how could he deny you something so simple? Two voices in his head fought against each other, one of them telling him that it was a terrible idea. The other one, however, assured him that you needed to get out and get some fresh air, because it’d be good for both you and your baby.

“Alright my love. Let’s go.”

You’d never been happier as you walked (waddled, more like) around the Spider Society with Miguel by your side. Ever the protective husband, he held your hand and kept you close, offering you any help around every 5 minutes.

Spider-People approached, gushed over your big baby bump, asked standard questions such as if you knew the gender, if you’d been thinking about names, and wishing you all the best in your pregnancy. Those who knew about your condition asked if the antidote had been working and offered to keep you company at the Medical Centre, which you gladly accepted.

Once you got to the cafeteria area, Miguel had to nearly physically restrain you, seeing as you almost ran to the empanada stall, claiming you were super hungry, and nothing except those godly cafeteria empanadas could soothe your craving.

“We’ll get you one, but you need to sit down,” Miguel said, placing his hands on your shoulders.

“Look at that line! Miggy, they’ll be out of empanadas before we get there! We need to hurry!” You huffed.

Miguel chuckled and kissed your forehead, before leading you to a nearby table.

“Sit here and I’ll bring you the empanada. Okay?”

You nodded eagerly and waited for your husband to return.

After a while, Miguel came back, holding a few boxes – he wasn’t going to risk it. He knew you, and if you said you craved one empanada, what you actually meant was I’m craving a whole bunch of them. He noticed the small crowd that had gathered around you and had half a mind to send them all away, before he noticed who they were.

“I’m so glad you’re doing better, [Y/N].” Gwen Stacy said.

“Yeah – you got us all worried, you know?” Miles replied.

You smiled, having grown very fond of the kids. In a way, you saw them as your own children.

“Thank you. I’m getting better now – all thanks to Miguel. He’s a genius. Oh! Speak of the devil!” You reached out your hands and Miguel promptly handed you one of the empanada bags. You squealed in delight and opened the bag, wasting no time in sinking your teeth into it.

“Hmm – this is so good,” you groaned, mouth full (earning a side glance from Miguel). You finished chewing your bite and cleaned your mouth, and then turned to him. “Thank you, honey. Gosh, I really missed these.”

Gwen and Miles chuckled as they watched you chew on your empanada contentedly, and Miguel silently thanked whoever was watching over him for this moment. He felt normal for once. Just a husband taking care of his wife’s cravings and watching as she appeared to glow.

Things had been bad for a while, but thankfully, they were getting better. You were getting better.

“Miguel! Miguel, look!” Gwen shouted, breaking him out of his trance and pointing at you. He turned his head, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and that’s when he saw you.

The empanada had been forgotten and dropped on the floor, and you were panting, out of breath. One of your hands was placed on your stomach, the other was holding onto the bench for support.

“[Y/N]!” Miguel was immediately by your side, looking at you and accessing what was happening.

“Shit – shit, it hurts, Miggy. It hurts so much!” Tears were streaming down your cheeks, and a pained expression overtook your face. Before he could ask you what specifically hurt, you were letting out a horrifying scream and falling on the floor. Miguel’s reflexes were quicker and you instead fell on his lap, where he cradled you tightly against him.

You screamed and shrieked, Spider-People all around you stopping to glance at what was happening. Pavitr kneeled next to you in panic, holding your hand and encouraging you to squeeze it tightly, which you did (let it be known that he took it like a champ, focusing on you rather than on the pain you caused him). You turned to Miggy and sobbed, trying to explain what you felt, the way he always told you to do whenever you hurt.

Unfortunately, the pain was far too much to endure, and every two words from you were interrupted by ear-piercing wails.

Miguel didn’t want to leave you. Not at all. He wasn’t going to leave you alone while you suffered and cried in his arms. But he needed to get to his lab as soon as possible, and he couldn’t do that with you. He couldn’t possibly risk hurting you.

In a split second, he made a decision he never thought he’d ever make in his life.

“Peter, Hobie, Pavitr, take [Y/N] back to the Medical Centre.”

“Miguel, no – “ you sobbed, clutching onto his suit.

“Mi vida, I need to go to my lab and reach your files – “

“No – “ You flashed a thousand colours in front of him. Chunky blocks of colour replaced your figure and rearranged it repeatedly. You felt lightweight in his arms, and his heart sunk at the realisation. He’d felt this weight before, held it as its colours sparked dimmer and dimmer.

You were glitching. Again.

Panic overtook him, clouding his judgement.

Shock. What was he going to do? Why were you glitching? He’d stopped giving you that patch of antidote he’d gotten from another universe. Hell, he’d promised never to return there after you’d glitched the first time.

So, what in the world was causing this?

“Miguel?”

Why were you suffering?

“Miguel?”

Hadn’t you suffered enough? Was this the world’s cruel way of punishing him?

“Miguel!”

It was Peter B.’s voice that brought him back to reality.

“We need to get her to the Medical Centre. You go to your lab and find a cure. Now.”

Miguel didn’t need to be told twice. He held you tightly one more time, kissed your forehead when your frame stopped sparkling, and all but ran to his lab.

Once he got there, Lyla flickered in front of him, pixelated eyes widening in fear.

“Miguel!”

He looked up and saw as she returned to his keyboard and pointed at the screen.

“The Essence Cells are causing a temporal instability in [Y/N]’s physiology.” She exclaimed, typing away.

Miguel huffed; face contorted in anger. “I thought you said this was safe, you said the worst that could happen – “

“I had no idea this would happen! Miguel, it wasn’t supposed to! But it’s too late for that, we need to work on a cure.” Lyla appeared in front of the screen and urgently pointed at it. “[Y/N]’s sense of time is becoming warped. She might be experiencing moments from different timelines, different realities. It’s as if the Essence Cells are opening windows to parallel words within her. But this wasn’t supposed to happen. [Y/N] hasn’t been exposed to any other dimensions or universes. Ever. Not before, not during her pregnancy. This is completely unexpected.”

Lyla’s words sunk in.

She hasn’t been exposed to any other dimensions or universes.

“Mierda,” he whispered, nearly collapsing on her knees.

Lyla knew what that expression meant. She knew what that voice meant, and she did not like it one bit.

“Miguel…?” she asked tentatively. “What have you done…?”

He shook his head and glanced at his hands. Was it his fault then? Was this all his fault? Perhaps if he hadn’t given you that foreign antidote, you’d be fine now. The Essence Cells would do their job, and you wouldn’t be suffering. It’s all his fault.

“Miguel, tell me what you’ve done, now. The quicker we know what the problem is, the better we can deal with it!”

“I… I travelled to another dimension…” he mumbled; voice numb. “It was a few months ago, I… I was desperate and reached out to another me, a better me… He gave me this antidote, said it wouldn’t fail… Lyla, I was desperate – I didn’t want to lose [Y/N]! I didn’t know what else to do!” When Miguel finally looked up, Lyla could see he was crying.

His next words carried all the heartbreak he felt, and even with no feelings, Lyla felt something resembling a heart breaking inside of her.

“I didn’t want to lose her, Lyla. I was desperate. It’s all my fault now, isn’t it?”

Yes, it was, but Lyla was not about to tell that to her clearly very disturbed boss. Instead, she did what she did best.

She got to work.

“You’re an idiot, Miguel O’Hara,” she sighed in exasperation before taking a deep breath. “But you already know that. Now, stand up and stop moping around. Your wife and child need your help.”

Miguel looked up at her, like a lost puppy being offered a home.

“Do you want to save your wife or not? Get up and let’s work!”

Something switched inside of Miguel. Maybe it was the way Lyla did not hold him accountable, maybe it was the determination in her voice, but one thing was for sure: he was going to save you, no matter what.

“Alright.” He stood up, making his way to his work bench in two strides. “What do we need to do?”

“We need to recalibrate the Essence Cells – tweak their energy signatures. If we can stabilize Mary’s temporal fluctuations, maybe we can minimize these glimpses into alternate realities.”

“More Essence Cells aren’t the solution – they’re making everything worse. The Essence Cells must still be reacting to whatever remnants of the other antidote still remain in her body. She hasn’t glitched in a while, so maybe they’re dying out, but I can’t risk it. We can’t.” Miguel mumbled, scribbling over more papers, and comparing them.

“Okay, what about changing our approach?”

“We’ve done that before, Lyla, and it didn’t work, and [Y/N] is in pain, and – “

“Stop being so stubborn and listen to me!” Lyla yelled. “Remember to keep your heart out of this – you’re a scientist, remember? Be logical. Instead of amplifying, we need to anchor. Maybe the Essence Cells are intensifying the glimpses because they’re acting like amplifiers. We introduced them to strengthen her defences, remember? They’re amplifying her immune system. Maybe we need something more stable.”

Miguel nodded. She was right. He needed to remain clear-headed – panicking would not do. Logic and reason would help him. “You might be right – but what could possibly anchor these fluctuations without harming her? Lyla, we’ve tried about everything.”

Lyla chewed on her little pixelated pencil.

She flickered all around the lab, appearing and disappearing in front of papers. She scanned some and left others alone. She organised all the information that proved to be relative, before pasting it to Miguel’s computer.

“Of course!” She cried out. “How did I not thing of this before?”

“What? What is it?” ´

“Miguel, your blood!” Lyla appeared in front of him, nodding so vigorously, her heart-shaped glasses fell off. “It carries your genes, doesn’t it? If we use a controlled amount of your blood, we might be able to create an antidote that stabilizes the Essence Cells, anchoring [Y/N]’s experience to a single reality!”

Miguel frowned. He hadn’t thought about using his blood. In his head, it meant he’d be injecting some more of the same genes that were hurting you in your body.

“I don’t understand. How could my blood possibly work?”

“Your blood contains the original genetic code we’re trying to counteract. By introducing it in a carefully measured way, we can neutralize the amplifying effect of the Essence Cells – “

“And stabilize [Y/N]’s physiology.”

“Exactly! And that’s not the only thing – with your blood, we can create an antidote that not only stabilises her condition, but also creates a protective barrier around the baby!”

“My genes were what got us in this whole mess in the first place,” Miguel mumbled. “But perhaps by using it, we can design the antidote to shield the baby from the harmful aspects of her glitching, while still allowing the natural and healthy development of their unique traits. My unique traits. Lyla, you’re a genius!” Miguel shouted, swinging towards another one of his work benches, this one filled with vials and needles.

“I know, I know. But say it one more time, just to make sure you mean it!”

A few members of the Spider Society gushed and worried about you, refusing to leave your side. Pavitr still held your hand, even though his was turning purple and getting numb. Gwen slowly petted your head, keeping you grounded by telling you stories and anecdotes about her day. Hobie was trying his best too – he had a soft spot for you and tried to make you laugh every few minutes, just to make sure you were okay.

The glitching had stopped for a while, but not completely. You thought of them as contractions that took longer and longer to come as time went by. Just where the hell was your sweet Miguel?

Almost as if answering your prayers, he burst in the room, holding a needle in his hand. Everyone immediately got out of his way, and he kneeled next to you. He pressed a soft kiss on your forehead and scanned your face for any further injuries, which you did not seem to have. Good. If all went according to plan, you wouldn’t feel any pain any longer.

“I’m here, mi vida, I’m here.” He whispered softly, guiding your arm towards his chest.

“Miggy, it hurts,” you whispered back, dry tears staining your lovely cheeks. He kissed each, before settling the needle on top of your skin. “I don’t want it to hurt again, please don’t….”

“I know, my love, I know. But I have to do this.” Miguel placed his forehead against yours. “It’ll stop. I promise, it’ll stop. You’ve been so brave up until now, haven’t you? You’ve been so brave for our child. It’ll be so lucky to call you mother.”

“Gabriel.” You nodded, trying not to tear up again.

“Yeah, Gabriel. He’ll be so lucky to call you his mother.” Miguel wiped the sweat out of your brow, slowly pushing the needle inside of you. You winced in pain and shrieked, back arching off the bed as the baby inside you stirred and stirred. Miguel ignored your cries and pushed through. You needed this, you needed this antidote, because this one would work. After so many failed attempts, this was the antidote patch that would finally work.

Miguel wasn’t quite sure what he’d do if it did not.

He prayed to whoever deity was up there, and watched as you slowly regained your breath and laid down on the hospital bed once more. Your posture was relaxed, calm. It was as if a big weight was lifted off your body.

“My love?” Miguel asked, brushing some strands off hair from your face. “How are you feeling?”

He was expecting any kind of reaction. Tears, screaming, silence.

Nothing prepared him for what happened next.

You started to laugh.

To laugh.

To truly laugh, after so long.

You giggled and giggled, hands reaching around your belly.

“I’m – I’m amazing, Miggy!” You laughed and looked at him, with tears in your eyes. But this time, they were tears of happiness. “I hadn’t felt this great since before I was pregnant!” You laughed again and nuzzled his nose with your own. You ignored everyone else in the room and smiled as your husband took your face in his hands and kissed your breath away. You responded with just as much fervour, stopping mid-kiss to chuckle. “I feel amazing, Miguel. Thank you. Thank you so much. You did it. I can feel it my love, you did it.”

Miguel let a few tears of relief roll down his cheeks. You kissed them away and invited him to place his hands on top of your belly.

“Can you feel it?”

Miguel raised an eyebrow.

“Not much. Are they supposed to be kicking?”

“No,” you smiled, shaking your head, “Not at all. He’s calmed down. All thanks to you.”

Miguel kneeled once again and smiled.

You were doing fine. You were well, and so was your baby.

Later, Spider-Doc would come to bring the results of your new analysis. The baby, even though still carried Miguel’s genes, now did so with stability. He was healthy and you were no longer glitching.

All was well.

Until you were dragged to the same hospital room a few weeks later.

Miguel doesn’t remember much.

It was honestly all very fuzzy.

All he does remember though, are a bunch of voices yelling at each other, and how he had refused to leave your side. Hell would freeze over before he even considered leaving you.

“[Y/N], we’re going to need you to push now, is that okay?” your delivery nurse (a Spider-Woman, since Miguel refused any other hospital to see you – after all, the Spider Society had the best doctors – and, well, best everythings.)

You nodded, sweat clinging to your whole body. Miguel was next to you, and you were holding his hand as tight as you could.

“C’mon mi amor, you can do this. You can do this, alright?”

“Mhm!” You whimpered.

“Ready? One, two, three – “

You screamed, pushing as hard as you possibly could. Your eyes were watery, and you were shaking your head repeatedly, begging for this torment to stop.

“One more time [Y/N], come on!” The nurse repeated, looking at you and nodding encouragingly.

“Uh-oh,” Spider-Doc blurted behind Miguel, which made the latter tense up immediately. Uh-Oh? What did he mean, Uh-oh?

“The baby’s oxygen levels are low; we may need to intervene.”

“What?” Miguel’s head turned in the doctor’s direction. “What’s happening? Doctor, what’s happening to my wife?! Tell me!”

Spider-Doc looked at the other doctors in the room, and they all nodded at the same time.

“Get him out of the room.”

“What?!”

“Miggy!” You cried, not letting go of his hand.

“Miguel, you need to leave right now, we can’t have you in here. You’ll just cause more complications, add stress to the doctors, and consequently, your wife.”

“Doc, with all due respect, there’s no way I’m going to abandon her when she needs me the most.”

That was the last thing Miguel said before the door’s room was slammed in his face.

Well. So much for never abandoning you.

“Pendejo de mierda…”

Miguel sat down, leaning his back against the wall, and staring at the ceiling. There was nothing he wanted more than to be in that room with you, holding your hand and promising you all was going to be fine. He was your husband, for shock’s sake. He wanted to protect you, and he sure as hell couldn’t do it from outside the room.

He turned his head and tried to listen to whatever noises might be coming from inside. The soundproof qualities of the hospital seemed to be proving useful, since he couldn’t make out a thing – which only made him even more nervous. What if you were scared? Panicked? What if you needed him? What if the doctors needed anything? Any information on your blood type, on your pregnancy? He had all these answers.

And most importantly, he wanted to be there for you.

After what seemed like an eternity, the door next to him opened ever so slightly.

Spider-Doc looked around, before settling his gaze on the ground next to him.

“Miguel?” he asked, to which the other man immediately stood up upon hearing.

“Yes? Is everything okay? How is my wife? Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine.” Spider-Doc smiled, opening the door more, and making way for Miguel could come through. “There were a few complications with the baby, namely, the umbilical cord was wrapped around the baby’s neck. That’s why the oxygen levels were low. Thankfully, we intervened at the right time. Your wife is fine, and so is your baby.”

Miguel sighed deeply in relief. The weight of the world had just been lifted off his shoulders. That’s all he wanted to hear.

“And, according to her, your presence is needed. Urgently.”

He did not wait a second before walking inside the room, looking around to access his surroundings. No one seemed to be panicking, there were no nervous nurses and doctors rushing about. And then he heard it.

The piercing cry that seemed to come from one of the extremities of the room.

He approached, carefully, almost as if scared. After all, he wasn’t sure of what he was going to find. But whatever he might’ve thought about, did not hold a candle to the real thing.

In the hospital bed next to him, were you, lying down. Your forehead was glistening with sweat and your breath was still evening out. Your eyes were red and puffy, and so were your lips, from all the tears you’d spilled. When you looked up at him, they sparkled again, threatening to water once more.

“Hey,” you whispered, meeting his eyes.

“Hey,” Miguel replied, staying still.

“Come meet your son,” you said and looked at the baby neatly bundled near your chest. Miguel stepped forward, and if his breath hadn’t been stolen before, it definitely was now.

Close to you, you held a tiny, tiny little baby. There were a few strands of curly brown hair on top of his head, and his eyes were closed, tiny fists closed in the same fashion. He wailed them around, shattering cries erupting from his throat. How come such a small baby could make so much noise?

You shushed him softly, caressing his cheek and whispering soothing words. The baby seemed to listen, because he became quietly right after, big, sparkling eyes coming to stare at you curiously.

“They’re yours,” Miguel nearly choked out, stepping forward. “Our baby has your eyes.”

You smiled at your husband and nodded, cooing at your child.

“He’s perfect, isn’t he?”

Miguel’s eyes widened.

“He?”

He could barely believe it.

“Told you. Maternal instinct is never wrong,” you chuckled, gushing at how your son held onto your finger as if it were his lifeline. “Would you like to hold him?”

Miguel nodded, and you carefully handed the baby to him. Big, bad, scary Miguel O’Hara was melting as he held his teeny tiny baby in his arms for the first time.

“Careful with the head,” you chided softly, to which he obliged.

Miguel stared at the baby in his arms. Well, more like the baby in his hands. He was so big; his hands almost covered his tiny body entirely. Miguel brought him close, smiling. The baby’s tiny lips were opened, eyes almost as if scrutinizing his father. Miguel chuckled at the sight – a few minutes old, and he was proving to be just like him already.

Miguel looked between the baby and you.

“Gabriel,” he whispered, searching for recognition in your eyes.

You granted him just that, accompanied by a smile.

“Gabriel. Little Gabriel O’Hara. He looks just like you, doesn’t he?”

Miguel nodded. He pulled up a chair and sat next to your bed, still holding little Gabriel. You reached out to him, tracing patterns on his arm.

“He’s perfect, [Y/N]. He’s just perfect. Thank you so much. I thought you’d given me the greatest gift I could’ve ever asked for when we first got married,” he took his eyes off Gabriel to glance at you. “But like always, you’ve managed to surprise me. You gave me a son.”

Your smile widened and used your free hand to caress the baby’s small head.

“I’m sorry I gave you so much trouble,” he continued, voice dropping in agony. “If it weren’t for me… If it weren’t for these bloody genes…”

“Shh – don’t say another word.”

“[Y/N], please, you must know – “

“I won’t hear it.” You looked at him directly in his eyes. Those lovely, lovely brown eyes that you loved waking up to, and had sometimes even fantasized about your son inheriting. “I love you, Miguel. All of you. And I would do it all again if it meant I got to have you and our son right here, right now. You were right, it all worked out. Everything is fine. I have you, and I have our son. Our little Gabriel. And everything’s going to be alright.”

Miguel teared up himself.

Had this been his reward? What had he done to ever deserve you? Whatever it was, he was forever grateful.

He gazed down upon his son, who seemed to have fallen asleep. Gabriel’s dark eyelashes rested peacefully on top of his cheeks, and his pouty lips were slightly parted. He was perfect. Perfect in every way. He looked every bit like himself – but there was a soften on his features that reminded him of him.

“He seems so peaceful. You can’t fool me you little rascal, I know the troubles you caused your mother. You’ll pay for it someday,” Miguel joked, earning a giggle from you.

“He’s every bit like his father then. You’ve gotten me some troubles yourself, mister.”

“That I have.”

You two remained like this, in silence, for a few minutes, basking in this beautiful moment. It had been a rocky road, but you’d made it. Here you were, still standing, safe and sound. And here was your little Gabriel, resting peacefully on his arms.

Everything was right as it should be.

“I love you.” Miguel spoke. There were no words to describe what he was feeling now, but he thought this was a good way to start. “I love you so much. I love you and our son and our little family. Thank you so much for all you’ve done for me.”

“I love you too Miguel. And our son.” You smiled. Shock, you looked marvellous. You always looked beautiful, and he was sure he’d never seen you look so beautiful first when you got married, then on your wedding night, and then the day you told him you were pregnant. But right here, right now – this was the most beautiful he’d ever seen you.

“I’ll take care of you two forever, mi vida. Te lo prometo. I’ll be by your side until the end of time.” He reached out to wrap an arm around you, bringing you as close to his body as he could without hurting you.

Miguel had always been a truthful man.

But right now, as he held the entire world in both his arms, he swore he had never been so truthful as he pledged his undying love for you and Gabriel.

“You saved me, Miguel.” You mumbled, turning your face away from your son to look him in the eye. “You were my antidote after all.”

Miguel shook his head, kissing your forehead. You were terribly corny – a trait he found immensely charming in you.

“And you were mine.”

Everything was just fine.

Miguel had you, and his son.

He had you and Gabriel.

Everything was perfect.

A/N: And that's it! That's the ending! I hope that you guys liked it, and that it lived up to your expectations. I definitely missed writing for Miggy! My requests are open, so feel free to send in any ideas you might have for him! I'm excited to see what you guys have in mind!

Anyway, thank you all, and I hope you have a wonderful day ahead!

Taglist

@tarjapearce , @estella-satn , @meganswife , @cold-blooded-girls , @marcswife21 , @edgycatx

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x reader #atsv x reader #atsv x you #across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse fanfiction #spiderverse x reader #spiderverse fanfiction

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miinatozakiii · 9 days

Text

i fall in love too fast

kindergarden teacher!sana x fem!reader (remastered) ; part two; fluff

summary: your niece needs to stop watching so many romance movies because what the hell she's five and sana... well sana thinks she's crushing on someone's mother.

wc: 3.9k

warnings: mentions of food ; not proofreaddd

a few customers held you up, you were supposed to be in your car earlier, supposed to be at hana’s school early – but of course, someone had to order six drinks during a rush, keeping you at work for a few more minutes than you’d like.

once you make it to the car, you rush to startthe engine and get out your parking spot. tapping your finger on the steering wheel as you drive, you glance at the car's screen. the time reads '3:11 pm,' which means hana will be out in about four minutes. you make a guess that you'll arrive in a few minutes late. the worry that hana might be confused about where you are runs through your mind, but you convince yourself not to fret. after all, she's strong, and you know it – she’s your niece after all.

somehow you manage to make it to the entrance just before hana is supposed to be out. fiddling with the collar of your white button-up shirt that you still have on from work, you anxiously await for when the bell will ring, anticipating the kids to start spilling out of the entrance doors to reunite with their families – eagerly waiting to see hana again.

you check your watch, reading the 3:15 pm, and seconds later – the bell rings.

it was only a minute later that you started to see groups of kids being led out by various teachers. you scanned the area for a bit, thankful that your height allowed you to see over some of the parents' heads. finally, you spot your little niece standing with a group of kids, holding each other by the little hook-like fabric on top of their bags to stay connected.

amidst the sea of parents and children, your eyes also locked onto sana, effortlessly standing out even in the crowd of chaos. her gentle hand held that of a child at the front of the group, a caring smile gracing her features.

you made your way over to where hana stood, her eager eyes scanning the crowd until they finally landed on you. without hesitation, she dashed towards you, her arms outstretched in anticipation of the hug she knew was coming. for a five-year-old, her determination was astonishing, and the way she almost knocked you off balance was comparable to a linebacker (well, close enough. maybe a linebacker on the youth team). as she crashed into you with surprising force, you couldn't help but marvel at her energy, laughing, and wonder if she should consider joining a football team someday. yeah, definitely her dad’s genes.

"y/n!" her grin widened as she approached, and you quickly knelt down to her level, wrapping her in a warm hug. "i missed you, y/n!"

“hey, hi,” you feel her squeezing you tighter as you hug her, kissing the side of her head as you do. “i missed you too!” you greet happily, voice muffled a bit. pulling away, you brush some of her hair out of her face, hair looking a little more ruffled than this morning. “seem’s like someone had a fun day at school.”

“so much fun! today ms. minatozaki let us paint and! and! she gave me more stickers for being good! they're sharks too!” the little girl beams, making you smile. “and then we had recess and i played a lot and ran a lot and– oh! ms. minatozaki said i was good today!”

you laugh. “is that so?”

“yes! does this mean we can go to the cafe? please? i was good i promise.” hana pleads, tugging at your rolled sleeve.

huming as you think to yourself, you her teacher in the corner of your eye. “hmm, we’ll have to ask ms. minatozaki to make sure, won’t we?” you’re really just saying that as an excuse to talk to your niece's teacher again.

you steal a glance at sana, who is smiling and waving to a set of parents, the dad carrying their child on his shoulders. her eyes sparkle with surprise and delight as they meet yours, her cheeks gradually tinting a shade of pink. unaware of her reaction, you remain lost in admiration as you stare.

sana bids a final goodbye to the parents and the kid before you and your niece make your way over to her.

"hana, hello there, sweetie," sana greets your niece warmly. then, her gaze shifts to you, her smile widening even further. "it's wonderful to see you again, y/n," she adds, her words sending a warm flutter through your chest, your heart skipping a beat.

she still looks as beautiful as she did in the morning, maybe even prettier. that voice of hers is still soft and sweet when she greets you with joy; her face lights up the same way.

"it's wonderful to see you too,"

without thinking, you straighten your shirt and adjust your pleated pants to appear more presentable. a smile graces both your lips and sana's. a brief silence ensues as you lock eyes with each other, and you feel a warmth rising in your ears, gradually spreading to your cheeks like a small fire.

trying to clear the tension, you clear your throat and tug at your collar, then respond, “how was hana today?”

hana looks up at her teacher with hopeful, puppy eyes, silently pleading for a positive response. sana chuckles softly to herself, amused by hana's adorable expression.

“she was great today, and really helpful too,” sana assures, earning a sigh of relief from hana.

“is that so?” you question – sana hums in response.

“she helped me put the paintbrushes back, as well as the markers. she’s a sweet girl, big help.” sana explains.

hana tugs at your hand, “i told you! i told you i was good! so can we go to the cafe? please?”

chuckling again, you nod at the little girl, then bring your gaze back to the woman in front of you.

“i guess we should get going then…” you begin, your gaze tearing away from sana reluctantly to look back down at the girl beside you. “why don’t you say bye to your teacher, hana?”

hana nods and you watch as sana crouches down to meet the girl's level, placing a hand on her head before sliding it down to the girls cheek. hana puts her smaller hand on sana’s before she hugs her, and for a moment you think to yourself: gosh, i wish that were me.

sana parts from hana, standing back up and fixing loose hair that falls over her face. you steal another glance at the young teacher before hana goes back to you to hold your hand and tug you away.

the last look you and sana share has this weird sense of longing, there’s an unspoken desire to get to know each other more, to maybe get a few extra minutes to, well, maybe just stare at each other’s faces until someone decides to say something.

but then, letting go, you finally wave to her with a smile, and she shoots you and your niece a toothy grin “goodbye.”

"alright, time to head home," you announce, grabbing hana's tiny school bag and placing it in the front seat. after securing her in the car seat, you close the door and settle into the driver's seat.

with a turn of the key, the engine roars to life, but before you can even back up, hana beams, “buckle up!”

“of course, i wouldn’t forget the most important step.”

a jazz favorite from months ago begins to play after you hit shuffle on one of the playlists you made with your niece. adjusting the volume to create a soft background melody, you listen along as hana starts to hum along.

you pull into your regular spot by the side of the cafe and turn off the engine. grabbing hana's bag from the passenger seat, you step out of the car and hold the door to the backseats open for her to hop out. her eyes light up at the sight of the cafe's exterior, and she wastes no time in darting towards the entrance.

“hana wait! be careful!” you call out, hurriedly shutting the door and fumbling with the keys to lock your car before running after the excited five-year-old.

entering the cafe, you're greeted by the familiar and inviting atmosphere. the air carries the aroma of freshly baked pastries mingled with the rich scent of espresso shots being pulled. the cozy ambiance of the cafe envelops you both, lifting both your spirits.

thankfully, it’s not too busy at the moment. you spot a few adults in their work clothing sitting and chatting at the table for four near the window, sipping on their drinks – looks like a couple of lattes and americanos. the dim corner to the right is lit up by a small lamp hanging from above, occupied by a few high school students laughing. they seem to be treating themselves to a small cake, a little candle is at the side – probably for someone's birthday.

you scan the area, shifting your look over to where the familiar baker and barista are. the baker notices you and stops what she’s doing to wave happily.

“ah, y/n! you’re back, did you miss me that much?” dahyun jokes, “oh, and you brought my favorite customer too.” she adds, redirecting her gaze to meet hana. hana gives the dark-haired woman a big, gummy, and toothy smile before going to hug the woman as she walks out from behind the counter.

“ms. dahyun! today was my first day of school! my teacher says i was great!” hana boasts, and dahyun laughs before ruffling her hair up a bit.

“wow, i’m impressed. hmm… maybe i should give you the special treat i prepared then.”

“please please please please please please-”

“alright, alright. a special treat for my favorite customer coming up! my favorite new student.” dahyun says cheerfully. the shorter woman heads behind the counter, and you lift hana onto the chair near the counter.

you make your way behind the counter as well, right over to where the taller barista works. he’s busy measuring the coffee grinds for an espresso shot, furrowing his brows as he takes a small portion of the ground coffee out from the portafilter.

“chaemin,”

he jumps a little and you laugh teasingly.

“my god! don’t do that!”

“oops.” you shrug. “can i steam some milk real quick? i need to make something for my niece.”

“you’re giving espresso to a five-year-old?” chaemin asks, visibly concerned. he turns his body to you fully, raises his brows, and looks down at you in disbelief.

“of course not, she’s already a handful without the caffeine. i’m just gonna make her a hot chocolate.”

“i see, okay. good.” he says before bringing his attention back to the portafilter and tamping the coffee grinds. “by the way, where’s johnny? i thought he would be the one taking hana to school – or picking her up – you know, since he's her dad and all.”

“he wanted to, but he had this last-minute business trip. the way he complained in person and over the phone was… rough – but he’ll be back in two days.”

“i see.”

you and chaemin continue to engage in some small talk about whether it was busy or anything while you were gone for those few minutes while you make the hot chocolate.

dahyun has already given the giddy five-year-old her cream-filled croissant with a variety of fruits inside, along with a drizzle of milk chocolate syrup on top.

dahyun pushes the plate toward the girl. “i made it just for you, i even added extra strawberries and chocolate since you like them so much.”

“ms. dahyun you’re the best! it looks really yummy! thank you thank you thank you!” she says excitedly, then dahyun pats her shoulder.

“anything for the young scholar.”

“you never make me anything like that.” you mumble as you make a design with the steamed milk and chocolate.

“you’re not a scholar, y/n. you lack a lot up there actually.” she jokes, poking you right in the forehead.

“ouch.” you respond, looking at her with a pout and setting down the hot chocolate with the heart design you made with the steamed milk. hana smiles, looking at the drink and pastry eagerly, but just as she is about to dig in–

“phone eats first.” you halt her actions, forcing her to pose and smile for the family group chat. she groans in response before dahyun encourages her to grin for the camera, giving her a thumbs up.

you sit beside hana and watch her eat while you hold your head in your palm, smiling at her. dahyun goes back to rolling whatever dough she was working on before, and you scroll through the family group chat, texting your brother and mom.

“these are so good, thank you aunt y/n,” hana says with a mouth full of the croissant.

“you should thank dahyun for that, but i’m glad you like them. also, don’t talk while you have so much food in your mouth!” you scold playfully before taking a sip of the iced americano chaemin had made you. hana sticks her tongue out at you and you pinch her nose lightly, making the two of you laugh.

hana gulps down the bite she had just chewed up, then mumbles, “aunt y/n, can i ask you something?”

you raise a brow. “what is it?”

“do you… do you like my teacher?”

“oh, of course. she’s sweet and takes good care of you, i’m fond of her. she seems great.” you answer before taking another sip of your coffee.

“no, do you like like her? like in the movies? the lovey dovey ones where they kiss–”

“w-what? why- where did this come from?” you question, sitting straight up. hana’s directness nearly makes you choke on your coffee. chaemin overhears the conversation and his eyes land on the two of you.

“you like your niece's teacher?” he says in disbelief, a hand on his hip and a brow raised. you look at your co-worker and then back to your niece, waving your hand to shut down these bold (but pretty reasonable) allegations.

“no, no – it’s not like that,” you start, trying to keep your voice and tone relaxed. chaemin and the little girl don’t seem to be fooled. “she’s just nice, we’re just friendly. she’s your teacher, of course i’m going to be friendly with her.”

“ok, then why did you look at her like that? you looked all lovey-dovey and your ears turned red!”

“oh? what is this i’m hearing?” dahyun interjects, which earns her a glare from you before you look back at your niece.

“i- no, it’s not like that! we just met hana, don’t be ridiculous.” you say defensively, and then hana’s smile grows, it makes you uneasy.

“your ears are turning red again, just like in those cartoons and movies!”

“what movies are you watching? you’re like, five! shouldn’t you be watching some normal cartoons? like something with mermaids or superheroes or something?” you groan, growing more defensive as dahyun and chaemin team up with hana to poke at you.

you roll your eyes at them, but the thought of sana tugs at your heartstrings.

you don't buy into the idea of love at first sight; it seems too simplistic, too much like something out of a disney movie. however, you can't deny the impact the woman who will be teaching your daughter every day has had on you. she’s shot an arrow through your heart just like cupid.

she’s undeniably beautiful, but it's more than just that. you find yourself thinking about her infectious smile, her contagious smile, and the way her nose scrunches up when she does both. the memory of her holding your hand when you greeted her lingers in your mind, even as you're teased and poked fun at by those around you. god, you’ve just met her.

you won’t admit it outloud, but this woman did have an effect on you, and you were scared that it would be harder to hide that the more you saw her.

“look, i just think she’s a nice person okay,” you shrug, and then you begin (or at least try) to change the topic. “anyways… how was your first day of school? what else did you do?”

dahyun laughs at your attempt to change the subject and decides to give you a break by returning to what she was doing. she shoots chaemin a cheeky look, which you ignore, choosing instead to focus all your attention on hana.

“it was great! you were right y/n, i made a friend! her name is jiyeong, she’s taller than me by this much,” hana shows you the height difference by pinching her fingers down, except there’s an inch of space in between. “also,” hana begins, “ms. minatozaki read us a story, she’s super nice. she smiled and laughed a lot, she smiles like a princess. she kind of looks like one." hana adds, and you certainly agree with that statement. hana thinks to herself a bit, then adds her final remark, "she also helped everyone with their paintings, she’s so cool! i like her a lot.”

you grin at the girl and take her empty plate, pushing it to the other side of the counter for chaemin to take.

“i’m really glad you made a friend, i told you my genes were passed on to you!” you mess with her hair. “and i’m glad you like ms. minatozaki, it’s important that you have nice and caring teachers.”

“and pretty teachers too, right?” she teases, and you laugh, messing with her hair once more.

“alright smarty pants, finish up your hot chocolate so we can get going.” you sigh, rolling your eyes playfully before walking behind the counter to wash hana’s dish.

“how was work?” jihyo asks.

she backs her car out of the parking spot in front of the school. sana has never been one to drive herself, always relying on the bus or getting a ride from a friend. however, this year she's in luck, since she'll likely be getting regular rides home from both her best friend and the mother of one of her students – one of the best drivers of the century.

sana sighs and smiles, then sets her head down against the headrest of the passenger seat. “it was really good, the students are all great. your daughter did well too.”

jihyo smiles upon hearing this. “i’m glad jiyeong was good,” then she looks at her daughter through the mirror. “jiyeong, sweetheart, how was school?”

“good mom! i had lots of fun and ms. minatozaki is really nice! i made a new friend too.” the little girl in the backseat responds. “her name is hana, she’s cool and nice and funny and i like her a lot. we promised to be best friends this year!”

sana tenses up at the mention of hana, and she thinks of the girl’s captivating mother–you. sana starts to zone out whilst jihyo talks with her daughter, and she really just thinks about you. she replays the memory of shaking your hand–big, soft, nice to hold, the small peak of ink under your wrist, the bracelets, and wow she is a mess from just the interaction–and about your cheery grin, as well as your caring nature. the look you had given her this morning replays in her head, the small dimple you had, how perfect your teeth were, and the sparkle of your eyes as you looked at sana.

she daydreams of you the whole way back to her place, pushing aside the fact that you’re a mother, probably not single considering how charming and cute you are.

her heart sinks a little at the thought of that, and she tells herself to compose herself, there are always others, right? other fish in the sea?

(but none that were as cute as you.)

"alright, we're here. say bye to your teacher jiyeong." jihyo insists, adjusting the gear stick so the car is parked in front of the apartment complex. sana smiles at jihyo and steps out of the car, closing the door behind her. she waves at jihyo and her daughter through the window.

“thank you ms. minatozaki! see you tomorrow!”

“bye jiyeong, i hope you have a good night. you too, jihyo, thank you again.”

“it’s no problem, your place is on the way to our house anyway, have a good night sha.”

jihyo waves once more before rolling the passenger seat window up and driving away. sana clutches her work back and starts to walk towards her apartment.

the young teacher unlocks the apartment door and sets her bag on the hook to the right of the door. with a sigh, she kicks off her shoes, feeling the weight of the day starting to lift. as she moves into the kitchen, she finds herself drawn to the familiar routine of making a cup of tea. it's a comforting ritual, one that helps her unwind and transition from the demands of her day to the peace of her home. kids are amazing, wonderful, and adorable–but they’re also draining, very draining.

she leans against the counter in her work clothes, staring at the cup in her hand.

the thought of you reaches back, invading her mind, her.

you’re cute, you’re effortlessly cute with everything you do. sana thinks of the first glance, remembering how bells started to ring and imaginary petals started to fall after she made eye contact and– god she needs to stop watching those stupid dramas jihyo keeps reccomending her because they’re starting to turn her into some hopeless romantic. this can’t be, it’s only been one day, hell, not even an hour of being in the same room of you.

sana feels her cheeks warming up, cursing herself mentally.

you’re a mother, whether that be biologically or not, you’re a mother. it would (most likely–well, very_ unprofessional to pursue someones mother, especially if you have a husband or anything like that. she can’t pine over someone who’s taken, not again, she’s learned from her junior in high school already, she can’t possibly live through that again.

sana sighs, pinches the bridge of her nose. “i really have to talk to jihyo about this.”

taking out her phone, she finds jihyo’s contact and pauses, letting out another small sigh. the thought of having to navigate through the year while constantly encountering your pretty face and charming personality fills her with a mix of apprehension and anticipation. there's a part of her that can't help but look forward to the interactions and moments shared even if you’re taken.

(it’s not like she can’t control how she feels, so if she’s able to at least hide it–then that should be fine.

–

right?)

she clicks on the little phone icon, and after a few rings, it's answered by jihyo. the sound of her voice comes through the line, accompanied by the faint background noise of what seems like the opening of a door.

"sana? hello? what is it? everything okay?”

"jihyo."

jihyo blinks, letting her daughter into the house before answering in a slightly concerned tone, "yes?"

“on a scale of one 1-10–and be honest–how wrong is it to have a crush on your students' mother?”

#sana x reader #twice x reader #kpop x reader #twice imagines #sana twice #minatozaki sana #minatozaki sana x reader

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disillusioneddanny · 1 year

Text

This was inspired by this post. This will also be turned into a multi chapter fic on my ao3. You can subscribe here

But enjoy <3

Tw: talks of vivisection and abuse

Harley Quinn stumbled through the streets of Amity Park, newborn baby clutched to her chest as she furiously checked over her shoulder to make sure no one was following her. She had done it, she had finally gotten away from Mr. J for good just six months before. If he came lookin’ for her, she would be able to handle him on her own, especially with the help of Ives. But Danny wouldn’t be able to do jack shit against his crazed sperm donor. So, Harley was doin’ what she thought would be best. She was going to ask her step-brother and see if he and his wife could take him.

If anyone would be able to protect her baby it would be Jack Fenton, her step-brother was a hulking giant of a man and while his aim may have been shit, his wife’s wasn’t. The two were scientists, ghost hunters if Harley remembered right and they would be just crazy enough to think Mr. J was a ghost if he showed his slimy face around Amity Park.

“Don’t worry Danny, they’ll keep you safe, I promise. You’re never gonna have to worry about a crazy father tryin’ to kill you or use you for his own gain, I won’t ever let that happen,” Harley said quietly before pressing a soft kiss on her son’s head and knocked on the door of Fenton Works.

His father was trying to kill him. Danny allowed his sister to drag him out of Fenton Works and to her car, head spinning, lungs burning for oxygen. Telling his parents about his ghost form had gone bad, it had gone so, so, so bad and now Jazz and Danny were running for their lives as Jack Fenton shot another ectoblast at the siblings.

“Jazz, where’re we going to go? What are we going to do? You destroyed the portal,” Danny gasped out once Jazz had shoved him into the backseat of her beat up, gray, ‘78 Volkswagen Beetle. He scrambled in just as Maddie shot in the spot he had just been occupying, his sister grunted as she took the shot. While she was liminal, she still had enough human in her that it was nothing more than feeling like she got an instant sunburn.

Jazz slammed the door shut, ignoring the shouts from the Fentons behind her as she got around to the driver’s seat and sped off, tires spinning against the pavement.

“We’re going to Aunt Harley’s,” Jazz said determinedly.

“My mother?” Danny squawked from the backseat. “Didn’t Da-Jack say she was crazy?”

“Jack’s crazy Danny! He had you strapped to a table-” Jazz stopped herself as a guttural growl escaped her lips. “Whatever. Aunt Harley will be the best option. If anyone can keep us away from the Fentons it’ll be her.”

Danny slumped down in the backseat and finally looked down at the giant cut on his chest and let out a groan. His mother. Jack and Maddie had never hesitated to tell Danny where he had come from. Jack in particular boasted about how his poor, abused sister trusted him of all people to raise her baby and keep him safe from harm.

Joke’s on him apparently considering he was the very person who had managed to hurt Danny the most. Danny wasn’t stupid, though, he had heard about Harley Quinn. The psychiatrist turned villain who was now in her own way a hero but remained the self titled Queen of Chaos. He knew that his mother was dangerous, each time she had come to visit with her pasty white, tattoo covered skin, chemically bleached hair, and slightly crazed look in her eyes, Danny knew. He knew that the reason Dan was a reality was because of his genes, because of where he came from.

He had done everything he could to make sure he wouldn’t turn out like his mother. And if his suspicions were correct, he would do everything to make sure he didn’t turn out anything like his sperm donor. There was a reason Danny hated clowns and it wasn’t just because of Freakshow.

“Do you think she’s going to be happy seeing us at her house, though? Or Aunt Ivy? She’ll probably be annoyed that we dropped in unannounced,” Danny said before reaching down and grabbing the metal box that held his first aid kit. He used his powers to thread a needle with fishing wire and bit his lip hard as he forced the needle through his skin and started to sew up where his parents had started the vivisection. It would most likely scar but Danny didn’t want to think about that right now. Danny didn’t want to think about anything right now except for the fact that they were going to his mother’s house of all places.

“Danny, your mom adores you. She didn’t drop you off at the Fenton’s to abandon you. She did it to protect you. Aunt Harley knew that she wasn’t capable of raising a baby and she did the most responsible thing she could think of. But she loves you, she’s loved you from the moment you were born,” Jazz told him, glancing in her rearview mirror to watch her baby brother sew himself up as she sped down the highway.

“And how do you know that?” Danny asked, a hiss escaped from between his clenched teeth as he got to the worst part of the cut and continued with his sewing.

“Because I was there the night she brought you home. And I see it in her eyes when she comes to visit us. She loves you Danny, she was just in a bad situation,” Jazz reasoned, knuckles white on the steering wheel as she sped onto the onramp to start their journey from Amity Park, Illinois to Gotham City, New Jersey.

“And she’s just going to be happy to have her sixteen year old son randomly appear in her front door? She couldn’t take care of me then, what makes you so sure she can help us now?” Danny spat out as he finally finished his stitching and tied off the thread. He reached into the kit once more and grabbed a few of the antiseptic wipes that had been packed in and cleaned the ectoplasm-blood mixture off of his chest as best as he could before taping gauze to his chest. It wasn’t the best patch job and Frostbite would probably be horrified if he saw it, but it was the best Danny could do with a tiny first aid kit in the back of his sister's rickety car as she went well over a hundred miles per hour in a seventy.

“I think so, yeah,” Jazz admitted after a few minutes of silence. Danny let out a huff of a laugh as he struggled to sit up. “There’s a shirt in this bag,” she said, tossing him the backpack that sat in the passenger seat, the go bag for if the worst had ever come to fruition. Which it definitely had.

Danny dug through the bag and found the tried and true NASA shirt folded carefully within the bag and let out a sigh through nose as he carefully maneuvered around to get the shirt on without angering the stitches on his chest too much. Even if his mother wasn’t happy to see them or able to take care of them, she’d be able to help. She was a better option than any other.

Vlad was completely out of the picture. Dani was ancients only knew where and she wouldn’t have been able to do much anyway. Sam and Tuck still didn’t even know what had happened and Danny hadn’t decided how he was going to deal with that. Aunt Alicia would most likely call mom-Maddie if she saw them on her doorstep.

Aunt Harley was their only option now that the portal was destroyed and Danny certainly did not have the strength he would need to open a portal. Plus, Gotham had plenty of ambient ectoplasm according to Tuck’s research.

When they had first made this plan, Tucker had looked into any place that came close to having the same amounts of ectoplasm as Amity Park and Gotham had been number one on the list. So at least Danny had that going for him.

“I’m going to try to get a little bit of rest, getting cut open drains a guy,” Danny said with a chuckle, pressing the backpack into the car seat and carefully laid back down. “When I wake up, we can switch and I can drive for a bit. You need rest too.”

Jazz simply hummed in response and said nothing more as her little brother settled into the backseat and allowed sleep to take over.

“I told you I could have helped drive here,” Danny muttered as Jazz pulled into a shady looking, nondescript building.

“Danny, you had to sew yourself back up in my backseat. You needed the rest far more than I did, besides, no use in complaining, we’re here now,” Jazz said, glancing back at the tired, pouty look on her brother’s face and smiled. “Aren’t you excited to see your mom and Aunt Pam?”

“Is she technically my stepmom?” Danny asked once Jazz put the car in park and shut off the engine. She got out and went around to Danny’s door and helped her baby brother out of the car.

“Technically?” Jazz said, crinkling her nose as she thought it out. Yeah, that would make the most sense anyway. “Are you okay?” She asked as Danny winced, pressing a hand to his chest as he climbed out of the small car and leaned heavily against Jazz’s side.

“Yeah, just hurting,” he murmured and shook his head as if that would get rid of the pain. “Let’s just go.”

Jazz gave her brother a concerned look but locked her car nonetheless and started to help the boy up the stairs before she rung the doorbell.

The two tensed as they listened to footsteps stomp their way.

“Look, I’m Jewish, I ain’t interested in that Jehovah’s Witness shit,” they heard Harley shout before the door swung open.

Harley’s jaw fell open as she froze in place at the scene in front of her. The two teenagers were quite the sight. Harley had never seen the usually put together Jasmine look so frazzled as long as she had known her niece. Her son was in even worse states, if the eyebags on his face, the strange blood and green stains on his shirt, and panting told her anything.

He looked up at her tiredly, the dark circles under his eyes even darker than she had initially noticed. “Hey mom,” he said with a huff, hanging from Jasmine’s shoulders.

“Aw fuck, come in, come in,” Harley said wearily, ushering the two into the building. “Ives! I need your help!”

Harley carefully moved her niece out of the way before she quickly lifted her son into her arms and started down the hallway. “It’s okay Danny, Mama’s gotcha,” she murmured, cradling the sixteen year old boy to her chest as she carried him bridal style. Jazz followed her aunt as they made it to the living room just as Ivy came out of the bedroom looking confused.

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise, though, as she spotted the three before her. “Shit, I’ll get the salves,” she stated before her eyes landed on Jazz. “Come help me?”

Jazz looked between her aunt and her brother before looking back at Ivy and gulped, nodding her head once before following the eco-terrorist back into the bedroom.

“Oh sweetie,” Harley murmured, carefully setting Danny on the beat up couch. “Baby what happened to you?”

“Jack and Maddie happened,” he said with a hiss as his mother raised his shirt and took in the cuts that had been sloppily stitched up.

Harley’s eyes flicked between the incision that seeped red-green liquid and Danny’s pained face. “Jacky boy did this to you?”

Danny nodded, letting out a whimper. “It’s a long story,” he said as his mom traced a finger over the cuts, the pieces connecting in her brain.

Harley Quinn was a lot of things but she was not stupid. She may not have gotten the chance to visit her son as often as she wanted but the last time she had seen him she had noticed something was different about him. She had been around Ivy long enough to know when someone had gained powers that they barely had control over. She had noticed the way her son’s eyes would flash a startling green whenever his emotions got out of hand. Noticed the way he was colder than before and how his shoulders looked as though they carried the entire world on them.

She didn’t know what had happened to her son or what it had done to him, but she knew he was more than human now. She had seen that plenty of times before. And it looks like the Fentons had discovered this and decided that Danny was one of their new experiments.

“You’re dead, aren’t you?” She asked bluntly, recognizing the toxic ectoplasm that seemed from between her son’s stitches. “Not all the way but somethin’ happened and they didn’t like it.”

“Yeah. I uh, I was fourteen, didn’t kill me all the way, just enough for me to be considered a ghost and you know how mom-Maddie and Jack are about ghosts,” Danny said just as Ivy and Jazz came back with towels, wet rags, and salves to cover the incisions.

Harley raised her eyes from Danny’s wounds and looked her son in the eyes. “I’m gonna kill ‘em,” she snarled, snatching a wet rag from Ivy and started to better clean the wound. “I’m gonna murder them and then when they turn into ghosts I’ll give ‘em a taste of their own medicine,” she said, hands gentle as she cleaned around the wound.

“You’re going to need to redo those stitches,” Ivy said softly, sitting beside Danny’s head and taking it in her lap as she ran her fingers through the black locks, trying to distract her wife’s son from the stinging pain he was likely feeling.

“There’s no point, the wound will be closed by tomorrow,” Jazz said quietly and handed a warm, dry towel to Harley after she had finished cleaning the incisions and carefully patted the skin dry. She then took the salve and carefully coated it over her son’s chest.

“Don’t kill them,” Danny said quietly, taking his mother’s hand in his and squeezed the pale hand in his. “Just, mom, just protect me. Please?” He asked, voice cracking slightly.

Harley let out a sigh and squeezed her son’s hand tight. “Baby, I’ll always protect you,” she promised, still feeling her chest burn in anger at the fact that her step-brother, the one person on this earth she had trusted to take care of her son had caused him this much pain. Jack and Maddie Fenton would rue the day they hurt Harley Quinn’s baby.

#dp x dc #DPXDC #dc x dp #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp fanfiction #dc x dp prompt

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romeoandjulietyouwish · 25 days

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For as long as the de Rolos have lived, so has their curse. Its roots have long since been forgotten, perhaps a spell from a witch long dead, maybe the genes of someone married in, or maybe it’s just always been that way. No matter how the curse came to be, it’s been passed to every bloodborne de Rolo born as long as memory serves.

But as much as the curse is known among the immediate family, it is also Whitestone’s best kept secret. None but those bearing the last name de Rolo are privy to what happens to anyone carrying de Rolo blood under the light of the full moon.

Percy doesn’t remember a time he was told about the curse, it’s just always been part of his life. He didn’t start to change until after his third birthday, a bit early in comparison to his other siblings, something he still holds over their heads as a teenager.

“Percy, dear,” his mother calls him over with a soft smile and a gentle wave of her hand. With a sigh, Percy does as he’s told and heads the call, sinking into the chair beside her at the dining table.

Before he’s even properly seated, Johanna starts making him a plate, knowing that he probably won’t eat much unless she forces him too. “You need to eat breakfast,” she chides him. “You have to keep your strength up for tonight.”

“Tonight?” Percy asks with a frown, stabbing a piece of fruit with his fork.

“The full moon,” Frederick chimes in, already on his second helping of food.

Percy sighs heavily. It’s bad enough that the full moon interrupts his nights in his workshop, but it also means that he is forced to spend time with all of his family. All of whom become very very annoying in their wolf forms.

Percy has long since lost the argument of him staying in the castle, in his workshop during the full moon. His mother, though she doesn’t change herself, refuses to let him be alone when he’s as vulnerable as he is in that state. Not to mention that keeping the fact that the Lord de Rolo, along with all his seven children, is a werewolf becomes significantly harder to hide when they remain that close to the castle.

So Percy piles food on his plate under his mother’s watchful eye. He slumps in on himself as he forces himself to eat. All around him, his siblings are rowdy. They always are before a full moon; even his father is playing into the antics more than usual.

Johanna sighs and leans over to Percy, tucking his hair back. Percy forces himself not to pull away, he knows that makes his mother upset. “It’s just one night, Percival.”

“I know.” He bites into a piece of bacon. His mother sighs again and pulls away.

When sunset comes, the whole family is waiting in a clearing in the woods. They go there every month, it’s just far enough outside the castle to not arouse suspicion. Percy sits on the grass, tugging his shoes off and setting them to the side.

Cassandra and Ludwig are already wild, running and chasing each other through the clearing. His mother sits behind Whitney, braiding her hair back. Frederick comes over to Percy with a smile, “Are you ready, Percival?”

He sighs and allows his father to help him to his feet, “I suppose.” Frederick laughs as though Percy made a joke and squeezes the back of his neck. He guides Percy over to the rest of the family just as the sun begins to dip below the horizon.

The shift happens quickly. At his age, it no longer hurts, his bones and muscles move into place. When he blinks, he along with the rest of his family are wolves. Cassandra’s transformation still must hurt because she scampers over to their mother, whining as Johanna runs her fingers through her thick fur.

continue reading on ao3

#critical role #vox machina #percahlia #werewolf au

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sadevergreen · 9 months

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as a camp counselor (technically not currently bc i went home for Illness) and homestuck fan (also technically not currently bc I'm too busy being a camp counselor) i love camp skaia. which homestuck characters are most likely to be the "we're ALL sick there's no reason you can't do the hike up the hill" (has mild cold and vague heatsickness at worst) counselor x "actual lung infection but thinks it's a really normal cold" (very easily gaslit) counselor program group pair? i feel like eridan and kanaya are hot contenders here

ooo ok this is so good- apologies for the ever loving hell that you are about to see but i sought assistance from my dear dear pale friend @marv3l-drag0ns !!!!!!!! MUAH PLATONICALLLY <> ILY they were a huge help in putting this together

BOY DO I HAVE A LOT TO SAY ON THIS, THIS WAS EXTREMELY FUN :D

so let’s begin: my immediate instinct was kanaya and tavros are the most easily gaslit, or adhere most to given direction (we’re not going to talk about HIM). but then who to pair them with? they are both wet cats that won’t work. we decided that YES kanaya and eridan definitely make sense! but in which role? it may seem obvious but NO! eridan too sick? whiny fussy pitiful sopping kitty he’s just a beanbag full of milk! so we decided barely sick eridan, otherwise he’d be throwing a fit. instead he’s referring to his Superior Genes! and kanaya is. strugglin. but fuck man here we are 🤷‍♂️

But we’re not done yet!

the next we considered was karkat and terezi!! especially aided through the lens of karkat’s old crush on terezi; he’s too whipped and in denial to deny a girl a hand!

this led to possibly the funniest thing ever: THE INNER KANKRI THAT EVERYONE HAS AND HE SITS ON YOUR SHOULDER AND REMINDS YOU TO BE DECENT AND LEAVE ROOM FOR KANKRI

for the bigger drawings i capped it off with a good ol favorite of mine; erifef. why did i like them? man idek anymore but it worked really well with the idea of eridan being the sicker one, but being ok such thin ice over his constant whining that he just has to go along with it we just though it was funny hehe. it can be viewed through any lens! snippy or non, s’all good here! it’s all canon.

what is he was sick and he couldn’t whine 🥺 what is he was sick and he wasn’t allowed even a snivle about it 🥺 not a snort 🥺 or a sob 🥺 he’s so pathetic !!!! besides, he can’t be out paced by some fuckin kids!!!! HES A GROWN ADULT 16-18 Y/O CAMP COUNSELOR GODDAMNIT!!

MARVEL: “Feferi: ah yes your sickness you have a functioning immune system and are the most dramatic guy on planet earth (only one of those statements is true)” which statement? :) yeah

she doesn’t believe him anymore <333

Ok and that is it for full line art doodles, but!!! i couldn’t resist drawing some more pairs we pondered

ERIDAN AND KARKAT: omfg so good!! but they would 100% either both be tooooo sick and dead, or they would both be mostly fine

VRISKA AND TAVROS: no. and you know why we’re not doing this one :,( we all instantly knew this one would be here but we are choosing to ignore it im favor of…

TAVROS AND KARKAT: Marvel proposed it and it was very interesting!! i think similar to eridan and karkat, where they’re both dead or both barely sick. no i’m between. aggressive yet positive motivation (?) for the win!!! they further proposed that karkat “eats dirt for a living and doesn’t get sick very often”

Overall this was really fun to put together and answer, and i had a blast getting to colab with a mutual along the way :3 so thank you anon and thank you marvel!! this does bring me to something i’ve been meaning to say,,.,,,

@marv3l-drag0ns ,,? we’ve been friends forever, you know my dogs middle name, we complete each other in a way no one else can! you stop me from eating bones i find on the road, and i stop you from ascending to godtier to avoid going to exams…,…

would you be my

Moirail? <>

anyways! that’s all for now <3 this was so fun :) please send in more asks/ requests like this if you ever think of any more! i definitely feel for the camp counselor piece cause that was me earlier this summer PFF and all the counselors got sick and passed something around (but hey! it was an excuse to sit away from 7 y/olds for a few minutes while i got tea for my sore throat)

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joeyquinndrabz · 1 year

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Inked- Joseph Quinn x Reader

TW: none im trying to give you guys a break from the angst I have in my drafts 😭

Being a tattoo artist was a dream you’d had since you were a kid. Your friends would laugh and tell you to ‘get real’ but you knew it’s what you wanted to do and so you did. Your grandfather was a tattoo artist in London and became highly respected by the whole city, everyone wanted a tattoo from your grandfather and so did you. When you were 18, he gave you your first tattoo after years of pestering. His talent was impeccable and his art was your inspiration. You soon began an apprenticeship at his shop and , it must be in the genes, because you’re very good at it too. Of course you were aware of the privilege you had due to your grandads high status, but it didn’t mean you didn’t have to work hard. It took years of practice to get to the level you’re at now, but being 28 and working alongside your 68 year old grandad was the gift that kept on giving. His guidance was still so important to you and your relationship was unbreakable. He wasn’t your stereotypical elder male tattoo artist, his style was still the same as it had been in the 70s. Checkered button ups, flares, docs and a very impressive moustache. He was ridiculously cool, your grandma was the same. A stylish woman with a blue rinse on her grey hair and she was always sporting a pair of new glasses. She worked on the front desk, greeting each client with a smile and being the first point of contact to ease that anxiety many of them had. It was a family run business and a great one at that.

It’d been a busy day, it was a Saturday and you’d tattooed a lot of people and a lot of different things. You were getting ready to pack up when your Grandfather could be heard chuckling out in the corridor. There were two different male voices that followed and curiosity killed the cat, you wanted to find out more.

“Ahh this is my wonderful granddaughter I’ve been talking about. She’ll enjoy this one lads.” He chuckled at the two mystery men as he pulled you in for a side hug. “Enjoy what?” You questioned, smiling at the two strangers. “It’s slightly embarrassing but we got very drunk and stick and picked out initials onto each others feet but they’re not looking the best.” One of them told you, you noticed the curtains he was sporting and the slight permanent smirk that was stuck on his face. “Yeah not our brightest idea.” The other man laughed, you noticed something different with this one. He was looking directly at you, admiring your tattoos with each passing of his eyes. It was cute. He was cute.

“Let’s get you lads sorted, I’ll do yours Wesley and Y/N can do Joe’s. I won’t make you do them both kiddo you’ve been here since 6.” Your grandad aimed the last bit at you, you smiled and nodded before taking Joe into your part of the studio.

“I’m really sorry about this, I didn’t know you’d been here that long. I’m more than happy to get it fixed another day.” The man who you now knew as Joe was rambling and you couldn’t help but chuckle. “Honestly it’s fine, if you were coming in for a back piece then I would’ve said otherwise but I’m sure we can fix this in no time.” You smiled at him as you handed him the consent forms. “Do people genuinely come in last minute for things like that?” He asked whilst signing all the needed paperwork. “You’d be surprised, we don’t actually do walk ins but my grandads had a rule that if he likes your ‘vibe’ then he’ll allow it in some cases.” This caught Joes attention, looking up at you from the clipboard to give you a massive smile that you could only assume was because he’d realised he met your grandads criteria. “He’s a cool man.” Joe continued to smile as he handed you the papers back. “He’s my favourite discussion point, the man’s a walking, talking 70s masterpiece.” You laughed and soon heard him joining in with you. “I’d kill to have him as my grandad, you’re very lucky.” Joe was admiring the art on the walls, walking closer to his favourites then standing back with a tilted head to take it all in. “I’m forever grateful for him, he’s the reason I do what I do.” You smiled to yourself, getting ready to fix the drunken scribble on his foot. “Looks like you’re pretty bloody good at it too, love.” He turned to face you, admiration on his face. “Thank you, I really appreciate it.” You shyly smiled back before asking him all the boring questions required.

Joe was now sat on the tattoo bed, showing you the tattoo in all its glory. “I mean.” You tried to find the words but struggled with a chuckle.

“Yeah I know I think Wes was shaking a little bit.” Joe grimaced before laughing with you. “It’s an easy fix don’t worry, are you okay for me to start?” You asked, in a weird way hoping he’d say no so you had more time to talk to him and hear more about his life. But he was ready, he told you he was more than ready and watched you as you got to work.

“You ok?” Looking up from the W and to Joe, you’d expected him to flinch or say something about the pain but he didn’t. Instead his face was plastered with a picture perfect smile. “Peachy keen darlin’.”

You were aware of the blush spreading on your face so got back to fixing the W and soon you had finished, wiping it down and wrapping it up.

“There we are, all finished.” You beamed and watched as Joe admired it in the mirror. “It’s perfect, thank you so much.” He mirrored your expression, happy there was now some symmetry to his drunken decision. “You’re more than welcome, grandad will sort out the payment and everything when Wesley’s finished.” You explained as you began cleaning up your station.

Soon the pair were at the front desk, paying for their tattoos and laughing with your grandad. You were still cleaning up so hadn’t realised they’d left due to your fixation on making the studio ready for you tomorrow morning.

“Knock,knock.” Your grandad announced his presence and walked in with a massive grin on his face. “What’s got you smiling so wide?” You laughed at his animated demeanour as he slowly approached you with his hands behind his back. He sat on the bench and smirked, before pulling his hands from his back to reveal a piece of paper and five £20 notes. “You got a big tip and a new admirer.” He laughed before handing you the money and the note. “But it was a tiny tattoo?” You were in shock, complete and utter shock.

“Read the note.” Your grandad pressed, leaning forward in anticipation. “Grandad!” You exclaimed,laughing at his eagerness. “Oh Cmon kiddo I’m dying over here.” He laughed back.

You opened the note and scanned the page with your eyes, a smile growing after each letter.

I’m sorry if this is totally inappropriate and i completely understand if you rip this up but just wanted to say I really enjoyed getting tattooed by you today and I’d love to get to know you more. Here’s my number, again I’m sorry if this isn’t appropriate I just think you’re pretty incredible and I’d love to get to know you more.

The tip is because you’re a brilliant artist and I hope you treat yourself with it and get something to help ease the stress of today.

All the best,

Joe

XXX

You grabbed your phone and copied the number into your phone immediately, passing your grandad the note before going outside to ring Joe.

“Hello?” He answered, anxiety evident in his voice.

“I’m leaving here in 10 minutes, fancy sharing a couple glasses of wine with that tip?” You had no idea where this confidence had emerged from but nether the less you were extremely thankful for it.

“Darlin’ that’d be a dream.”

#joseph #joseph quinn #joseph quinn one shot #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn x reader fluff #joseph quinn x you #joe quinn x you #joseph quinn x y/n #imagines #fanfic

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sylix-royalty · 9 months

Note

28 for heid pls! :>

Well of course! #28: "I know you hate being touched, but... I need a hug."

Type: Fluff!

Warnings: None!

Enjoy under the cut!

Aaron classified two types of the hardest cases the team has to deal with. One’s with children, and one’s with victims that look similar to anyone on the team unintentionally. Those are the cases that emotions come through when they shouldn’t, and the person represented by these victims takes it personal even when, in most cases, it’s pure coincidence.

It was Spencer’s turn to fit victimology. Surprisingly, Spencer didn’t seem affected by it, though if anyone is least affected it is Spencer. His intelligence probably helps him detach more than the others.

Instead it hit Aaron hard.

One of the victims, Nicklaus Ghole, looked identical to Spencer, so much that even the genius had to do a double take and blink at the image. That’s when Aaron’s emotions took over, that photo. He couldn’t see a random victim he’s never met, he could only see Spencer (despite the fact that the real Spencer was living and breathing in front of him). Aaron fucked up, finding the UnSub unstable and going through a mental break. He found him alone, and took the shot without even trying to talk him down.

A knock at his office door caused him to look up, and Spencer stood in the doorway. His expression was concern. “Hotch…?” He whispered. “Everyone’s gone home.”

“You haven’t,” Aaron mumbled.

“I was finishing some work that I wasn’t able to before the case. I thought you’d left already,” Spencer admitted, setting the files down on Aaron’s desk. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Aaron replied, short and untrue. Spencer remained undisturbed.

“It’s normal, to see a photo of someone you care about and letting your heart take over, especially in situations where the person is portrayed as harmed or killed…” Spencer started mumbling, and Aaron sighed. “Surprisingly, a study that Joseph McInerney did, he’s a executive vice president of the American Society of Human Genetics, he found that any two people taken at random are going to share about 99.5 percent of their gene sequence, causing them to look eerily similar.”

“Reid, I appreciate what you’re trying to do but-” Aaron started.

“You didn’t follow protocol,” Spencer whispered, and Aaron snapped his gaze up to him. “It scares me, when you don’t follow protocol. At first I just… I didn’t think anything of it. I though you were just having a bad day. Maybe Jack had a hard morning, maybe you didn’t sleep well, you never seem to anymore. Then Nicklaus’ photo showed up and… that’s when I really thought about why you were so… irritable.”

“You didn’t noted they all resembled you?” Aaron asked, finding that hard to believe.

“No, I did. I just didn’t realize it mattered that much,” Spencer admitted with a soft shrug. “Just, promise me you won’t keep staring at the photo. I’m right here, Aaron. Not there.” He whispered, seeing Nicklaus’ crime photos on Aaron’s desk. Aaron hadn’t even noticed he’d been staring.

Spencer turned around, meaning to leave, but Aaron stood before he could take the three strides to the door, only making it about halfway there before Aaron spoke up. "I know you hate being touched, but...” he swallowed thickly, “I can’t lie, I did let my emotions get the better of me. And I was… unprofessional, I was worried, and for some reason this photo is messing with my perception. I…I need a hug. I need to know you’re really here.”

Spencer stared at him for a moment, before a small smile grew in his lips and he stepped over, slotting himself comfortably in Aaron’s arms and allowing him the relief. Aaron took a deep breath, holding Spencer warmly, relaxing more when Spencer’s arms squeezed him gently, reenforcing his life in Aaron’s.

“I’m right here,” Spencer promised as he slowly pulled away. Aaron exhaled softly, letting his arms go slack. “C’mon, close this all up, let’s go get dinner.”

Aaron couldn’t find it in his heart to say no.

#aaron hotchner #criminal minds #heid #hotchreid #spencer reid #Sylix’s little snippets

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atlasxspeaks · 1 year

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I was thinking about all the blue-colored characters I like in media, and my brain went, "What if Spider was a mutant and looked/had power like Nightcrawler?" So here's that:

Both Paz and Quaritch have dormant X genes that get passed down to Spider. On Earth, he would have been killed in infancy because mutant babies are deemed too dangerous. If they are thought to be very powerful, then they get experimented on and die before adulthood.

At first, Spider is born looking "normal"; the only odd thing is that he has webbed fingers and toes. However, his “normal” appearance doesn’t stay normal for long as his body begins to develop, and the X gene kicks in, causing his skin to turn dark blue. His fingers fuse together until he only has three fingers on each hand and two toes. His palms and soles also become very sticky, allowing him to stick to surfaces and crawl around, hence the nickname. He grows a tail with barbs he can throw and contain a paralytic substance. His teeth sharpen, and his eyes turn from a warm brown to pitch black. The only thing about him that stays normal is his blonde hair. He gets all the hallmark powers of Nightcrawler (basically teleporting and being extremely agile), but he also inherits the ability to shapeshift like his other ancestor, Mystique. His shapeshifting manifest is the ability to shift his physic in any way to maximize his survival chances - his body does this automatically. child to allow him to breathe Pandora’s air.

Paz, who knew she was a descendant of Nightcrawler, knew this was possible and made a contingency plan. She flies one of those metal bunkers deep into the forest past where the RDA scanners can find and slowly stocks it up with enough supplies for them for years. She also starts learning about Pandora's flora and fauna from Grace, the only person who knows she is pregnant and that the baby could be a mutant. They leave during the Great Battle at the end of the first movie, and Spider grows up as a healthy, loved baby for 15 years until the humans return (he's younger in this AU because Paz gives birth days before the final battle).

Paz and Spider get kidnapped when they're out foraging by Quaritch's team, and Admore tells Spider he can either work for them to shave time off his mother's prison sentence for deserting her post or die with her in an execution. Spider obviously chooses the most self-sacrificing route and goes through very brutal training to become the perfect soldier. He and Quaritch have a very fucked up relationship in this AU because he uses Spider's destress to gain his loyalty, but they're not as close as in AWOW.

When the recoms find Lo’ak, Kiri, Tuk, and Neteyam in the forest, Quaritch calls for Spider’s assistance (a reference to X-men: First Class, where Azazel, Nightcrawler’s father, is summoned using a high-pitched whistle). He appears right before the children’s eyes in a puff of black and blue smoke, and they’re convinced he’s the Devil their dad and the scientists refer to when talking about Earth mythology.

With Spider there, the fight is a lot more brutal. He stabs Neytiri through her ribs and almost kills Jake, but more Navi show up as their backup, forcing the recoms to retreat. Before they do though, Quaritch orders Spider to take Jake, but since he's too heavily surrounded, Spider takes Neteyam instead. His reasoning is that any hostage is a good hostage.

Queue the few months of Spider and Neteyam bonding as Neteyam realizes Spider is just as much of a prisoner as he is to the RDA. He hatches a plan to escape, but Spider often waffles between wanting to help or not because he’s fighting the fear of what will happen to his mom with the fear of freedom.

All this culminates with the recoms discovering Jake in Awa’ulta (the Sullys leave because Neytiri is injured and Jake won’t risk her or anyone else being hurt for him). They bring Spider’s mom along to keep him in line, and that final battle begins with Neteyam crashing the boat when he sees Lo’ak and Tuk on the deck at gunpoint. Instead of Lo'ak and Neteyam going to find Spider, it's Lo'ak and Ao'nung - who gets shot but lives. Paz also is shot on their escape route, and she does die on the rock in canon!Neteyam fashion. Instead of Jake and Neytiri having their “strong heart” talk, it's Neteyam and Spider.

“Spider, Spider! Hey! Look at me!” Neteyam grabs the boy’s face and stares into his black eyes. They look more dead now than ever before. “I need you with me! And I need you to be strong," He places his hand over the Spider's heaving chest, "Strong heart! We have to help find my sisters. No one else dies today.”

Queue Spider going on an absolute rampage on the ship because he’s losing his mind, and Neytiri, Ronal, and Tonowari having simultaneous breakdowns because they knew humans were dangerous, but why is this one blue and disappearing into thin air.

I don't know what would happen after that, but it was a fun thought.

#spider socorro #neteyam #neteyam x spider #avatar way of water

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kleiner-ghost-high-on-life · 2 months

Note

If you’re doing the drabbles still: Gus telling Creature about what Gatlus was like before the G3 invasion? Or just the two trying to bond sometime after the events of the game or between bounties

The drabbles are open, always 🤲 Thank you for the ask ^^

Here's to two sweet lil' guys bonding while BH and the rest of the team are out kicking butt. (and a tiny bit of existential angst)

"Hey, Gus, Gus," Creature called out.

"Huh - What-" Gus jerked awake, "What's up pal?"

He'd dozed off a while back, during a particularly boring part of a documentary on Earth sea slug reproduction that Lizzie had put on to annoy Gene. She’d “hidden” the remote by the staircase, before heading out, leaving the trio of Gene, Creture, and Gus to watch the thing.

Gene only complained for about 5 minutes, before falling asleep, and Gus was quick to follow. He hadn’t quite realised how exhausting a life of bounty-hunting would be, and didn’t complain too much, if at all, when Bounty Hunter left him and Creature at home during this one mission.

Creature on the other hand seemed utterly unaffected by fatigue. It seemed like the added stress of constant near-death experiences was comparable, or even lesser than, that of constantly having a dozen kids.

“Were you sleeping?” Creature asked.

“Yes pal,” Gus blinked in annoyance, “Did you wake me up just to ask that?”

“No, I just wanted to make sure you weren’t dead.” The Gatlian shrugged, as much as his shoulder-less body would allow.

“I was just sleeping, why would you-”

“This movie Lizzie put on, it’s got me thinking,” Creature turned towards the TV, he paused for a second, his gaze lost in the wavy colourful shapes of sea slugs merging into a singular non-distinct mass of alien bodies, “We are the last Gatlians out there. Our planet is gone, and we will never be able to repopulate it again, just the six of us. All our traditions, songs, dances,” he nudged towards the screen, with a melancholic look painted over his face, “We’ll never be like them. My little freaky babies … they will never get to have little freaky babies of their own. You know?”

Gus was at a loss for words. Sure, he knew what he needed to say, which just so happened to very closely align with what he wanted to say, but Creature’s unprompted nihilistic philosophic speech had taken him by surprise.

Thankfully it seemed that Creature’s children were unaffected, as they spent the few minutes they had staring at the mating sea slugs in silent and confused awe.

“Ah, I’m sure there’s more of us out there,” Gus scruffled over and gave Creature a little pat on the shoulder. “Bunty Hunter will keep looking, and so will we. We’ll be alright buddy, we’ll rebuild. There might no longer be a home for us on Gatlus, but we made a good home for ourselves here, don’t you think?”

Creature turned to face Gus, earning him twelve displeased groans from his back.

“You mean that? Because I don’t think you mean that, not after how you got mad at Kenny for destroying our home planet,”

“I mean, he literally caused the downfall of our fucking-” Gus cut himself off, shaking his head. There was no use getting worked up over something Creature didn’t remember, and couldn’t possibly understand.

Suddenly, an idea popped into his head.

“You know, there’s something we could do before the others return. Bounty Hunter won’t get it, and Lizzie might yell at us, but it was somewhat of a tradition back on Gatlus. When someone close, like a best friend went on a very long journey, and we didn’t know when they’d return we’d throw them-”

“A surprise party?” Creatrue excitedly interrupted.

“No, not a surprise party. A bucket of Takeocot purée.”

“A what now?”

“Takeocot purée. I’ll show you how to make it. Well, we usually did it before they left, for good luck and to repel mud-bugs on their travels, but I’m sure they’ll get our meaning.”

The smile on Creature’s face was contagious, and Gus couldn’t help but mimic the grin. It had been so long since he’d engaged in casual tasks like this, and even longer since he’d done anything Gatlian.

“How are the two of you gonna make whatever that thing is, considering you have two arms between the two of you, and no way of getting down from this coffee table?” Gene suddenly interrupted.

“Aaah – I thought you were sleeping!” Creature exclaimed.

His children hissed at him again, in reaction to the loud noise.

“I woke up when you said repopulate,” Gene scratched his face. “Do you want me to call Lizzie to help you with your mushy-mushy bonding activity?”

“No thank you,” Gus dryly stated.

“I mean, he’s not wrong about us only having two arms,” Creature tried to argue.

“Two plus twenty-four,” Gus nodded towards Creature’s babies.

“Oh, right.”

With the roar of a dozen babies who were just told to stop watching TV, Creature’s children hopped off his back and helped the duo down from the coffee table before carrying them to the kitchen, as per Gus’s instructions.

When Gene straightened up on the couch, attempting to catch a peak of what they were doing, one of the babies ran up to him and hissed at his face. He would have bitten him too, had he not puffed out of existence that very moment.

“You know Gus,” Creature spoke while Gus rummaged through the cupboard he could reach, in search of the necessary ingredients, “We should do this more often; you telling me about stuff I’m supposed to remember, me telling you about how hopeless the future would be without my friends.”

“Sure thing, pal.” Gus smiled in reply, “Just maybe without the hopeless future part, next time.”

#high on life game #gus #creature #gene #drabble #yes i'm making customs up #but like the game should have a whole DLC about them in the bast chilling on Gatlus #fight me #also thank you for your ask OP it i have been struggling to find the motivation to write these past few days

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jmagnabo92 · 1 year

Text

Prongsfoot Microfic - 33 Chosen

@prongsfoot-microfic

Dumbledore drops a bomb about Harry being the chosen one - Prongsfoot are having none of it.

AO3

***

“You have to be wrong,” James states, as he sits in his old headmaster’s office, his arms holding their son, while Sirius stands behind him, hands on his shoulders, and Lily in the seat beside him.

The headmaster had just told him that their son – the gift that Lily had given them by being a surrogate was the chosen one. Well, not precisely those words, but he had mentioned a prophecy and Voldemort choosing to come after their son – their beautiful baby boy, the one that they had planned to dote on as their precious treasure.

“I am not wrong about this, James,” Dumbledore says. “Unfortunately, with Harry technically born to you and Lily as your surrogate and at the end of July, knowing that the two of you have defied him three times…”

“Lily is not his parent,” James states through gritted teeth. “Sirius is and she knows it and respects that. Harry may have her genes, too, but Sirius is his father and parent, so you’re wrong.”

“Voldemort will not make that distinction and he certainly won’t know that Sirius is the second parent –”

“Well, regardless, our son has not been chosen,” James states. “And some prophecy is not going to affect our actions with the war. Sirius and I will take care of and protect our son without some stupid secret keeper plan. Our home is more than enough to protect him.”

“He’s right,” Sirius speaks for the first time since entering the office. Dumbledore had tried to have this meeting with just James and Lily, so Sirius had kept quiet, but James knew that he must’ve been seething at the implications. “Lily is always welcome to stay with us, but we can and will protect our son far better than some secret keeper and your house in Godric’s Hollow would.”

Lily nods. “These two would never let anything happen and their house is impenetrable. I wouldn’t worry about it even if Harry is the chosen one – and for the record, I don’t think he is.”

James grins at her. “Thank you, Lily.”

“Now, if that’s all, we’ll be taking our not-chosen one son home,” Sirius states, firmly.

None of them allow for Dumbledore to speak again as they leave quickly. Their son would be fine – he wasn’t the chosen one – and even if he was, they’d make damn sure to protect him – now and forever.

#Prongsfoot Microfic #Prongsfoot #Bambibelle #Sirius Black #James Potter #Lily Evans #Dumbledore #33

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sibillascribbles08 · 6 months

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Okay! Finally got this done (focused on a lot of other things but I did not forget). This is the 9th prompt that @sehfi asked for (it is not letting me @ you love tumblr it's great)

Promise I'm still workin on these y'all just a bit slow going alskdjf

anyway have more dads

Raising an infant who was still relatively half turtle, maybe just a little less—approximately 43.7% according to Donnie—made it very different from raising a typical baby. Any advice they got was usually from Splinter, who raised four of these kids once, and anything Splinter couldn’t answer, Jason and Donnie would put their heads together to figure it out.

For example, as Splinter warned them early on, the turtle gene kinda destroys the whole immobile to crawling to walking phases. Holly could crawl pretty much a day after she was born, and she got proficient at it. Jason sometimes felt bad that her “room” at present was a giant decked out tank. But given her size at the time—she fit in his palm for crying out loud—it became a necessity. Heaven knew where she’d end up if they let her wander free.

But when she got bigger—at least big enough that Jason held her with two hands—she was allowed to scurry about the apartment with minimal supervision. And scurry she did. Any room that wasn’t closed was immediately explored. She crawled under furniture, into crevices, up a few shelves, and somehow onto the kitchen counter once.

Jason asked Splinter if his boys ever did this. Despite the fur on his face, it was easy to imagine him sweating when he said yes. Just imagine keeping up with four of them in a sewer of all places. He assumes it's why his hair went grey so fast.

And if she could get around like this on all fours, well, Jason dreaded what would happen when she figured out the whole bipedal thing and her hands were much more free.

At a year and a half, Holly figured that out. Longer than usual for most babies but considering she could navigate so well on four legs, the transition to two wasn’t nearly as pressing. Evidently the motivator was trying to climb up to the table to get to the freshly fried shrimp Donnie or Jason would leave on the table.

And, like Jason suspected, the trouble only increased.

If only he bothered to realize that her scampering around on two legs wasn’t the only concern when it came to her getting bigger.

“Get back here!” Jason shouted after his daughter.

Donnie laughed and encouraged Holly to run off with the big bag of fruit snacks. Damn his husband for not helping. The last thing they needed was her ripping into that package and eating herself sick, because that is something she did on the regular. And Jason would clean up the puke nine times out of ten because Donnie would get way to squeamish with it.

Also those were his fruit snacks.

Holly giggled as she took off down the apartment hallway toward her room, the bag crinkling as she went. Jason began to catch up, only for an arm to catch him by the stomach.

“Donnie!” He immediately snapped and tried to thrash out of the turtle’s grip. “Let go.”

“No way, she deserves a head start.”

“She is going to eat those and get sick.”

“Relax.” Donnie pulled him closer. “Let her have some fun.”

Jason didn’t stop trying to wiggle free. “You’re going to say that until she steals your snacks. Now let go.”

Donnie lightly shook him back and forth, teasing.

“Quit it.” Jason snapped. “Quit it or I’ll bite.”

“How do you know I won’t be into that?”

“I know for a fact you are not into that, Donnie.”

Jason felt the breath on the back of his neck before Donnie’s sharp teeth gently brushed over the skin. “Bite me and I’ll bite you.”

Jason quit struggling but turned his head to glare. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

Donnie shrugged. “If you insist.” He sat on the floor, arm still tightly wrapped around Jase’s middle.

Jason didn’t get a warning besides that when he felt Donnie nip at his ear. He jumped and fought to hold back his laugh. “Hey. Knock it off.”

“Nah.” He bit his earlobe next, then trailed down his neck. They were all gentle, only enough to tickle, and that was possibly the worst part about it.

“Donnie!” Jason squeaked and tried to tug away. “You’re making me ticklish.”

“A successful distraction.”

“Oh yeah?” Jason managed to say despite another nip to his shoulder. He saw Holly leaning out of the door to her room. The fruit snacks were gone, but it was doubtful she’d eaten them. Perhaps she couldn’t open the bag. Or maybe Jason’s laughter caught her attention. Anytime she saw her dads having fun she just had to join in somehow.

Donnie blew a raspberry against the back of Jason’s neck. He burst out laughing again.

Holly scurried over—on all fours this time—her eyes wide and curious.

“Ah, the criminal returns.” Jason held out a hand for her. “Where did your spoils go, ma’am?”

Holly took his hand. Her four little fingers held onto his. She stared at it, then at her dads, then at his hand again.

Then she giggled, opened her mouth wide, and bit him.

The pain hit, hard, but thankfully it was still dulled enough by shock that Jason didn’t rip his hand away, which would have made everything worse. He just stared at his daughter, who still had her mouth on the part where his thumb meets his palm.

“Uh,” Donnie said. “Is that—”

Jason saw the drop of red start to slide down his skin. Holly stared at him, clearly confused. Then her face twisted in disgust and she pulled back, smacking her now red lips.

Oh, that was a lot of blood.

“Okay!” Donnie immediately scooped Jason up and carried him into the kitchen. Jason held his hand under the sink for a moment, letting water run over the injury and oh that made it sting twice as bad. As soon as he pulled it back Donnie pressed a spare dish towel over the injury.

“Sit. Sit.” Donnie gave the demand before he simply picked Jason up again and plopped him into the kitchen chair. “I’m calling Leo.”

“Donnie, I doubt it’s so bad—”

“Calling Leo.” He announced and walked out of the room.

Jason pouted, but kept pressure on the injury. He heard Donnie speaking on the phone, and then Holly’s concerned whines. After a few minutes, his husband returned and carefully sat her on the counter as he worked on cleaning out her mouth. Holly protested at first, a few sharp whines and even a scream, but eventually relented.

It was during this that Jason actually realized just how big her teeth had gotten. Not something you think about with how fast kids grow.

Leo flashed into the apartment with a portal, a med kit tucked under his arm.

“Man, where is it this time?” The slider already cracked a few jokes as he approached the table. “Is your daughter going to give you a scar to match the one Donnie gave you?”

“Not funny, Nardo.” Donnie snapped and picked Holly up. She clearly wanted down, waving her arms and reaching towards the floor and then towards Jase, but he didn’t loosen his grip.

“Sorry, I’m going to make fun of that until we all die.” Leo kept grinning as he rolled his eyes. “Come on, let’s see the damage.”

Jason let Leo work, keeping his eyes on his daughter rather than the injury in question. He didn’t really want to know how deep it was. Seeing stuff like that would still remind him of that nasty injury he got on his leg years ago. Despite how much time had passed, anything that made him think he was back in that storage room made his breathing halt.

“Thankfully not bad enough for stitches, but you’re gonna wanna keep this clean and avoid moving your hand too much or you’ll reopen it. Hope you don’t mind some tight bandages.” Leo said before stretching out some medical tape and getting to work.

With everything properly wrapped up, Leo stowed his supplies away and stood. “There, let me know if anything weird happens with it. As for you.” He turned toward his niece and tapped her on the nose. “Watch your chompers.”

Her answer to that bit of advice was to open her mouth and try to nip at Leo’s finger.

“Hah, apparently not.” The slider kept smiling. “Cya Tuesday Donnie.”

“Yeah, thanks Nardo.” Donnie called after his twin as he vanished through another portal.

Jason sighed and stood. He walked over to Holly and reached out for her, but she opened her mouth again and he retreated.

She really didn’t like that, her whine shifting into tears and a wail.

“Whoa, whoa.” Donnie shifted his grip so she was laying in the crook of his elbow instead. “What’s wrong?”

Jason frowned as he watched her. He reached out again and the tears slowed, but once again when his hand got close enough she opened her mouth. He didn’t let go, but he moved his hand away, and once again she got frustrated.

“Wait,” Jason said. “She probably thinks it’s a game.”

Donnie blinked at him. “Huh?”

“You were playfully biting me and we were laughing. She probably thinks it’s a game but she doesn’t realize how hard she’s biting.”

“Oooooh.” Donnie carefully lifted her up so she was at eye level. “Holly. No no on the biting.” He snapped his teeth again. “Yes yes with this.” He gently smooched her head.

Holly still didn’t completely get no and yes sometimes. She knew what the words meant, of course, but sometimes it was harder to explain specifically what about her actions were a no-no.

Thankfully even at this age she was pretty good at mirroring, so sometimes it was just a matter of repeating a behavior until it stuck. In fact, Donnie repeated himself a few times, showing the actions again. Then he shifted her around so she faced Jason.

He reached out for his daughter again. He let her take his hand. But this time instead of opening her mouth she instead pressed the bottom half of her face against it. She didn’t exactly give him a kiss. More like she just pressed her lips together and blew out some air.

Jason snorted, then laughed.

Her face lit up and she repeated the motion a few times.

“Okay, okay.” He took her in her arms. “Don’t do that too much. It’s so cute I might throw up.”

“No, no, keep going.” Donnie pulled out his phone. “I need a video.”

Holly giggled, still repeating the motion over and over again. Who knew how long it would take for her to get tired for it.

Oh well, he could tolerate it. Her delight made the lingering pain in his hand more than worth it.

#scribbly fics #jasonnie #rottmnt #Donnie doesn't always call Leo for med stuff #only if he thinks it might be bad enough #cause Leo's generally steadier with it #not the first time Leo's treated this kind of injury either lmao lmao lmao #won't be the last either #I sent a friend a blip where Holly bites Donnie when she's older #(he tried to grab her when they were having a typical father daughter disagreement and she didn't think)#anyway that one DID need stitches #I got another one of these just as I finished this haha #am glad

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amorhedera6 · 5 months

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i’m giving everyone lore bc i can’t help myself sorry not sorry.

(ruth’s tragic backstory under the cut)

ruth joleigh flemming is the second born child of five. her older brother, nathaniel, is two years older than her. he is the family golden child that does no wrong, he got all the good genes, attractive, taller. he played baseball and was popular in high school. in the hallways he would pretend not to see her, refused to acknowledge her, made her walk home when he drove his friends so he wouldn’t be associated with her. he’s their parents favorite and can do nothing wrong.

ruth on the other hand is only useful of invisible. she is given the most chores, is asked to watch her younger siblings constantly, expected to follow a curfew nathaniel never had. her parents marriage follows traditional gender roles, roles they push fiercely into their children, and ruth is put to work the most. she’s not allowed to drive her parents car when nathaniel was, etc.

her next sibling, henry, is three years younger than her. he is kinder than nathaniel, also often invisible to their parents, for he is more academic than his older brother. he likes science and is always holed up in his room working on smothering or other. he loves animals and learning about them, wants to be a vet. he and ruth walk home with richie every day (bc richie lives a few houses down). he’s quiet, mostly keeps to himself.

after henry is melanie, who’s only a year younger. she also has a lot of expectations on her to be a good girl, good wife, etc. all that sexist, 50s house wife bullshit. ruth tries to shield her from it by doing most of the work, but melanie is a better, less sarcastic help in the kitchen, so she often had to help their mom with the food. she does gymnastics, is really good at too, but her parents write it off as just a hobby. she could do really well professionally if her parents took it seriously.

the youngest is harvey, who’s two years younger than melanie. he does a lot of sports, but all of them in the kid way where he doesn’t really do anything. he likes soccer the best, and wants to continue that when he gets older. he’s a boy scout and plays a lot of video games. he’s the stereotype of the youngest sibling, he gets whatever he wants and doesn’t realize it.

ruth was put in dance at 4 because her mother danced as a kid, and she absolutely loved it. ballet and tap, but she wasn’t graceful enough for ballet. tap she stuck with for a long time. she had this class with peter, who she became friends with at like 12ish. she was expected to be a dancer because it was feminine and quiet and all that shit, so she became insecure about her loudness and lonely. she quit dance in her freshman year when she was picked for a dance solo and had a panic attack on stage.

she fell in love with theatre and joined the tech booth. she wanted to perform, but couldn’t get herself back on stage after what happened. she watched the shows from the back of the auditorium with jealousy.

she knew she was bi watching shake it up bc she fell in love w zendaya at 8. she never told her parents bc she knew it wasn’t worth the hassle. she knows they won’t believe her, will think it’s a phase, and thinks it’s better to just leave it all alone. it’s not like she’s ever getting a girlfriend anyways.

she hates wearing skirts, but if she goes like two weeks wearing just pants her mom sits her down and talks to her about being a proper lady. she’d rather just wear them then hear any of it. she wears a skirt every other thursday and it’s enough that her parents only give her looks instead of actually talking to her.

she likes star wars, absolutely hated the choices made in the new ones but watches them anyway bc the people are all hot. she has star wars merch and shit in her room but not too much bc it’s a “boyish” interest.

she had long dark curls her whole life, hates them. hates managing them, hates the curl routine, hates having such long hair, so in a fit of rage had richie and pete chop it all off in the middle of the night her sophomore year. she got it touched up by her moms hairdresser, but refuses to let it grow any more.

she got her headgear the summer before eighth grade, when she was 13, and has had it ever since. she despises it, but refuses to admit it to anyone but richie and peter. she owns it, matches her clothes to it, acts like she doesn’t give a shit when people call her metalhead or something equally uncreative.

she inherited her fathers anger issues. she keeps a lot of it inside bc she hates social interaction if she isn’t close to a person, but it makes her have a lot of hate for people who annoy her. like trevor, who always mixes up his cue lines and makes her look bad. or caitlin, who likes to spend her breaks annoying ruth in the tech booth.

(caitlin actually has a crush on ruth and has for years, but ruth’s so annoyed with someone pose being in her safe space that she can’t tell she’s being flirted with.)

her parents don’t want her to work, so she can spend time at the house looking after her siblings, cleaning, and all that, so she doesn’t have a job. her parents also don’t want her to go to college, since they think it’s unnecessary. she still applied to schools all over the country to get the fuck out of hatchetfield. she’s marked her major down as math, since she’s okay at it, but she has no interest in doing it with her life. she has no idea what she wants to do. (that’s not true. she wants to act. dance. perform. but she has absolutely no faith in herself, her talent, her ability to overcome her anxiety, so. math it is.)

she’s never told anyone this, she’s ignoring it and pretending she didn’t, but she did send a self tape to a drama school in california. she hasn’t heard back, though.

her favorite color is red, which is why she picked it for her headgear when they made her chose. she likes it because she can get away with wearing it in masculine ways since it’s close enough to pink, but it also represents fire, anger. she thinks color theory is super interesting. she had to learn it when her mom made her learn about flowers, and the flowers part bored her to death, but she loves colors.

her father is named walter, he’s a business executive about thirty years older than her mother. her mother, doreen, wants desperately to be a stay at home mom, but they can’t afford it, so she works at a flower shop. she says that if you must work in life, it might as well be a position for a lady. she still makes dinner every night. she only wears dresses and heels. sometimes ruth thinks her mother was brainwashed or something.

because ruth’s sanctuary is her grandparents. her mothers parents are not at all the stereotypical housewife/working husband couple. they are fiercely strong and interesting people with interesting stories to tell. from their stories, her mom used to be the same way, at one point. she went to college for prelaw, and dropped out her sophomore year after meeting walter. they say she changed a lot, but they don’t talk about it enough for ruth to get real details. she can only pull them by their teeth if they have a lot to drink, which they don’t often do. it’s a mystery shes piecing together slowly.

she knows her parents don’t care about her much. they don’t give a shit about her grades, never go to parent teacher conference night, stopped going to her dance recitals when she was ten, never came to one of the shows she worked on with the school. she was only ever scolded but never really treated like their daughter, more like a misbehaving help they need to set right.

they never hit her, but she’s well aware she’ll be fucked up forever. she is counting down the days until she gets to college and she can get a tattoo and burn her skirts and go to therapy. she loves her friends, and her siblings (most of the time), but she despises hatchetfield and her parents.

she can’t wait to get out.

(she never gets out.)

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creativepawsworld · 1 year

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Everything But You - Part 6

Pairing = Cillian Murphy x OC

Summary = Things take a wrong turn when Andrew shows up at the next The Sons of Mr Green Genes Concert.

Warnings = Language, Grammar, 90s Cillian, Insults?

Word Count = 1852

It had been two weeks since Cillian and I had sex at the dance studio and things were definitely different this time. He was calling more, wanting to hang out with just the two of us. I honestly felt myself falling for him.

Brushing off the lint from my black skirt, I checked my appearance three more times in the mirror before getting a taxi and arriving at the Black Duck bar, where Cillian's band was performing tonight.

My eyes instantly fell on Billy who was standing outside having a smoke, jumping from foot to foot as the cold December air nipped at his bare arms.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, feeling the cold against my skin. I forewent a coat to maintain my sexy, rocker chick look. I felt like a coat ruined the illusion, style overcame substance tonight.

"Marion bailed and I wasn't going out alone I am not that desperate." He scoffed with a slight roll of his eyes, wrinkles creasing at the sides of his lips as he inhaled deeply on the white cigarette.

"Besides I heard young blue eyes is playing tonight." He wriggled his eyebrows at me.

"He is. That is true." I blushed, tucking my hair behind my ear.

"What's going on with you two hm?" He questioned, a cheeky grin spreading across his face once he noticed my reddened cheeks.

"I really like him Bil…"

"Tell me something I don't know." Billy rolled his eyes, putting the ends of his cigarette out against the pebble-dashed wall before tossing the remains down a drain. "Come on let's get inside before we turn into ice cubes."

Walking arm in arm, we pushed our way through the crowd, Aoife was sitting at a table with one of Andrew's friends, Calvin. I instantly felt bile rise in my throat at the thought of him being in the same bar as both myself and Cillian but mostly because I would have to see him again.

"Don't look so scared, he isn't here. I don't believe so anyway." Billy spoke in my ear. Without realising it, I had pulled him to a stop at the sight of the taller man at the table but hearing his words I felt relief wash over me.

"Effs, been getting rather close to this doctor hunk."

"I can see that." I nodded, walking next to him, and approaching the table with a smile, which Calvin returned.

"Cillian was here. He was looking for you. Wanted to talk about something but wouldn't say what." Aoife acknowledged my presence with a smile. "I think someone is smitten." She winked, wrapping her pink lips around the tiny red straw in her drink.

Glancing over at Calvin, he was watching the conversation with an indifferent look on his face before allowing a smile to take over.

"Don't worry I won't say anything to Drew." He chuckled with a shake of his head. "He didn't deserve you."

"Oh okay, thanks." I nodded bringing the drink Aoife had slid over to me into my hands and up to my mouth, sipping through the straw my eyes wandered throughout the crowd for a certain blue-eyed musician but he was nowhere to be found.

Being late to the party, I was in charge of getting the next round of drinks, I didn't mind as it allowed me to scan the crowd a bit better. My heart sank when I noticed a familiar blond sitting at the bar nursing a pint of Harp in his hands.

Rolling my eyes, I turned my back on him completely hoping the bartender would serve me in record time so I could escape back to my table without dealing with him. But it appeared luck wasn't on my side.

"Brianna, fancy seeing you here." Andrew's voice entered my ear. I felt his hand slide across my lower back from behind before he stood in front of me, pint half drunk.

"What do you want Andrew? You don't even like bars like this."

"No but I wanted to see you and I knew you would be following that loser from the band around like a lost puppy." He laughed darkly, the smell of alcohol ripe on his breath, looking into his eyes I noticed his pupils were slightly dilated, he had a lot more than that pint to drink.

"The only loser I see around here is you" I spat back, turning to glare at the bartender who had once again skipped over me to serve another.

"Don't be like that Brie, come on you and I had a good few years let's not throw it away over some wannabe musician." Andrew's words were slightly slurred.

His hand came up to place some hair behind my ear, and the back of his fingers stroked against my cheek, working their way down towards my jaw before I pulled away.

"We are done Andrew get that through your head."

*****

Returning to the table, I placed the drinks down just as The Sons of Mr Green Genes got on stage to perform.

Cillian took centre stage. He looked gorgeous tonight in his tight-fitted black t-shirt that clung to his smaller frame. Throwing the strap of his guitar around his neck, he adjusted the microphone to his lips, it was then I noticed the annoyed scowl on his face.

"Someone upset Mr Blue Eyes this evening." Billy mused, eyebrows raised so high they were practically touching his hairline.

Glancing over at him, I squinted my eyes and shook my head in confusion, silently asking him what he was talking about as the band started to play the song -Time Travel.

"He saw you talking to Andrew before he went on stage." Aoife sighed, a sympathetic smile on her face as she placed her now empty glass onto the bar tray, taking her new drink in its place. "I think he believes you invited him."

"I didn't!" I defended myself immediately. "Why is he even here? You said you wouldn't say anything about me being here." I pointed at Calvin who had held his hands up in defence.

"I haven't said a thing. He has been following you for weeks, showing up at this band's gigs across the country just to see you."

"What?" Aoife screeched, jumping out of her seat to stand next to me, a concerned look on her face as she stared down at her date for the evening. "Why did you say anything?"

"He's harmless." Calvin brushed it off.

"They are always harmless until they aint." Billy scowled throwing one of his dirtiest looks at the buffer gentleman sitting across from him.

"That's disturbing. What a creep." Aoife scoffed, throwing a look of disgust over her shoulder but Andrew was gone. Where? I wasn't sure but he was out of my sight.

Wrapping my arms around myself, I tried to ignore what had happened focusing all my attention on Cillian who was once again so lost in his music, he looked like he was in a complete trance. I felt my heart beating in my chest, as I thought about our last few encounters and we were certainly overdue for another.

Losing myself to the music, I swayed in time, Billy joining next to me for a few before returning to his seat. Cillian avoided eye contact with me the entire set, his brother Paidi waved to me a few times before the beginning of each song, and even nudged Cillian, nodding in my direction but still he refused.

Feeling deflated, I returned to the table, taking a large mouthful of my drink when Emer appeared at our table, dressed in a red dress two sizes too small. Her chest was straining against the bust, one wrong move and she would be flashing.

"Jesus." Billy choked on his drink. The liquid coming out of his mouth hit Calvin like a spray.

"You alright?" I asked, patting him on the back, his eyes turned red from the lack of oxygen, and the drink was running down his nose as he gasp loudly. Handing him a white napkin he patted himself down.

"She nearly fucking killed me." He wheezed pointing at Emer, who stood innocently at the end of the table. A doe-eyed look in her eyes as she watched Cillian on stage, completely obvious to what was happening around her.

"Emer? What are you doing here?" I asked, ignoring Billy's over-the-top dramatics, another male in my life that would excel in the art of acting.

"Oh Cillian invited me, between us I think he is into me but he is trying to play it cool." She giggled and for the first time tonight, Cillian looked in our direction sending a wink.

Biting back a growl, I felt a pang of jealousy in my heart as Emer jumped up and down on her feet, clapping her hands together frantically as the band finished their set.

"You okay?" Billy asked, sliding next to me, and wrapping a protective arm around my shoulders.

"I'm done. I'm so fucking done." I growled, throwing myself back into my seat, and crossing my arms over my chest.

I didn't want to put a sour note on the night, Emer had disappeared into the crowd no doubt going to find Cillian after his set and I was determined to enjoy myself.

I was not going to let Cillian fucking Murphy get to me anymore.

*****

Yelling loudly, Billy and I both giggled as we jiggled on our feet, fighting off the taste of yet another shot of tequila. Aoife and Calvin had disappeared into the night after the band's set finished, no question what it was they disappeared to get up to.

"FUCK THE MEN." Billy cackled loudly, slamming the now empty glass on the table. Throwing his hands in the air and dancing to the music in his head.

"Enjoying your night?" I heard that Irish brogue that if I had been sober, would have had me weak at the knees. Turning around to face him, he stood behind me with his hands inside his jeans pockets, an unreadable expression on his face.

"I am. Where's Emer? Get bored of you already?" I asked with a hint of venom. I heard Billy behind me creating loud cat noises. I could just see him in my head, scratching the air with his claws.

"Toilet," Cillian answered flatly.

"Great," I replied with a small shake of my head as an awkward silence fell over us. "What do you want?" I asked breaking it.

"Where's your boyfriend?"

"Don't have one."

"I saw you with Andrew earlier Brianna, seemed pretty cosy."

"What does it matter to you?" I snapped, stepping into his space but he only shrugged his shoulders in response.

"The man is stalking her blue eyes," Billy answered his question for me. "She came here for you but you chose the blonde who wears her little sister's barbie doll dress out in public so FUCK YOU."

"Yeah FUCK YOU" I laughed joining Billy as we held up our middle fingers. "This is your loss, Murphy."

*****

Anyone interested in the bands song I found it on YouTube - Time Travel it’s rather a bop if I do say so myself.

Taglist

@stars-of-scorpio @lovemissyhoneybee @peakyscillian @cillmequick @forgottenpeakywriter @lyarr24

#cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy #90sCillian #90sCillianMurphy #ThesonsofMrGreenGenes #Everythingbutyou #Cillianmurphyxoc

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