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#yup that seems correct to me
slitheriyn · 14 days
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I have like a question but how did lily get cat severus? Was he a stray? Did she take him from a shelter? What’s the story!
severus is a stray! he's a mixed breed cat, eileen is also an oriental shorthair, while tobias is a stray tabby. lily and kitty sev first met at the park in cokeworth, she immediately took to him but sev is still a bit wary because he's a stray kitten and never met humans before. lily visits the park often, bringing him treats and cat food to gain his trust. he eventually begun to trust her, and acts very affectionate and protective towards her :3 lily begged her parents to let her keep him, they said no at first, because he's dirty from being a stray (not true btw, he grooms himself very often) but relented. lily brings him to her house, and they grew up together! lily brings him to hogwarts and he immediately hated james 😭 when he found out lily and james were dating by seeing them kiss , he ran away for three days and then came back and acted like nothing ever happened (hes saur petty...) lily married james (he still doesnt like james), and had harry (he immediately loved harry, and james complains about it constantly.)
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redflagshipwriter · 29 days
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Mamabat- enter Jason 1/2
MASTERPOST
The air was different with Cass, now. Danny felt a little anxious as he followed her to the study after breakfast. Something about her was serious-determined-protective. 
She always felt protective towards him. That was why he'd followed her in the first place. Some ghosts lied, but they couldn't do it with their aura. He knew what she really felt for him. 
“Sit?” She asked him. She gestured at the big squashy chair. Danny did without complaint. Cass perched behind him and started dragging her fingers through his hair, relaxing him.
Man. She was good at this. Top tier mothering, right here. Danny went limp. 
“I'm worried,” Cass broke the silence. She didn't sound worried. She never really did. Her voice was quiet and serious, but still kind. Her thumbs dug into his scalp. He pushed his head back against it. Bliss. “Barbara made you sad. Because you miss your sister?”
Danny tensed. 
‘I should have figured that Batman would track me down.’
Maybe he had known, if he was honest with himself. It didn't hit him like a shock.
“Tim thinks your name is Fenton,” she added, brutally sensible as always. And yup, that was it. No point in denying it. “Declared dead. In danger?”
He sucked in air through his teeth. He wasn't going to lie to her. 
“Worried,” she repeated. 
He thought about it. He really did. Danny bit his lip. 
She was liminal. That probably meant she'd come really close to death, in at least one sense of the word. Would that mean she was desensitized to it, or extra paranoid?
…It was hard to imagine Cass over or under reacting to a possible danger. She was just so steady. But would she see him as a possible danger if she knew what he was, what he really was? 
He could feel it out before he took a plunge with the whole truth.
Maybe it was wrong. Maybe it was invasive. She didn't seem to realize that she was liminal. That meant she definitely didn't realize how much she was communicating to him under her words and gestures. 
But Danny deliberately tuned into her quiet aural communication and tested the waters. “Tim is right, I'm Danny Fenton,” he said. He knew he was too tense. She would definitely feel it. But what could he do about that? He was nervous. “I… Maybe I did die.”
Her heart dropped to her stomach. He could feel the crush of grief on her heart. 
But it didn’t wash away the thudding repetition of love-protect-my darling. There was no suspicion, no guilt, no fear. It was just pain for his sake, with no calculation about how to solve a sudden problem. 
God. He wanted so badly for that to have been how his parents reacted. His eyes started to sting.
Danny sniffled. He thought it was safe to tell her. “I died,” he corrected, and he knew he was right when Cass made a little wounded sound and leaned her body into him, aiming to comfort. “Not then, but a couple years ago. I’m different now, and it’s uh… It’s dangerous to be this way.”
“Affects?” Cass asked quietly. She started to pet his hair again. “Mood? Health?”
“...Huh,” he said, because that was a sensible question he hadn’t expected. If he really thought about his mood and emotions before and after the accident: “Yeah, uh, there’s sometimes a mood thing. I might be a little more aggressive than I was before? And I can get kind of intense sometimes.”
He had thought that was basically just a reaction to having a whole bunch of new threats in his life. But would pre-electrocution Danny have been able to actually stand and fight Skulker? He had genuinely been afraid of the jocks. Maybe… Maybe he was different. Sure, Sam and Jazz were up for shooting ghosts with Fenton tech. Would he have been if he was just human? 
…He didn’t really think so.
Oof. Well, that wasn’t exactly great for his sense of self.
Cass shook him lightly. “Health?” she repeated.
Danny forced down that revelation to deal with later. He didn’t like acknowledging that he was kind of a chicken by nature, but historically, there wasn’t much evidence of bravery pre-mortem. “Uh, my heart rate is really slow, body temp is low, so I can’t really afford to go to a doctor for a checkup,” he said. “Uh, sometimes I’ve got none at all and my hair turns white.” He paused there. That was- that was enough, yeah? He was going to be honest with her because she deserved honesty from him. But that didn’t mean he had to explain the whole great beyond and his inhuman status.
“Sounds like Jason,” Cass said, after a long silence.
Danny short-circuited. “Wait, what?” He craned to look at her. “Who?”
Cass darted forward to kiss his forehead. “Little brother,” she said cheerfully. “Want to meet him?”
Uh, yeah. Danny nodded vigorously, wondering what the hell she was on about. “Do you mean he died?” 
“Died,” Cass agreed, getting out her phone and tapping away at it rapidly.
“Not like, heart stopped for a minute on the operating table and he was revived, or what?” Danny pressed.
“Dead in the ground, came back later,” Cass said. “Dead for months. Now, very crabby.”
Danny balked. “What?”
“White hair too,” she said. Then her face did something funny. “I think he dyed it recently,” she said. 
Danny huffed a laugh. “If it’s the same thing as mine, you can’t dye it.” He saw her look over his head for white streaks. He didn’t correct her line of thought.
He hadn’t thought that anything could top the anticipation of meeting Batman. But Danny had to admit the rest of the day was a wash. Apparently Jason couldn’t make it until the evening, about an hour before patrol.
Danny nearly paced a line into the carpet. He had enough energy to do that now, even without ecto. He was getting soooo much food here. A guy couldn’t even stress out for an hour without someone coming by to make sure he had fruit and yogurt or a hot drink.
He didn’t need someone to come and tell him that the much anticipated Jason had shown up. Danny knew it when he went to take a sip of cruelty-free chocolate milk (hand delivered by the most frightening child in the world) and choked on vapor.
Damian gave him a glare and snatched the drink away. “Are you incapable of drinking beverages?” he demanded. His face looked so goddamn cross but he was just worried.
Danny managed a smile. “No, went down the wrong pipe, sorry.”
Damian didn’t seem to even see the fog, so- so that meant that either he was really unobservant or he wasn’t liminal enough to see it the way people did in Amity. That was a small blessing. Danny appreciated it and he took back his drink to have something to hold onto.
That was a whole ass ghost. That was a whole ghost coming onto the property, one that felt big and mad and old. Danny smacked his lips, disconcerted. 
He, uh, didn’t know what to expect from this.
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ssahotchnerr · 4 months
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Ok I just got this image in my head of working out at the FBI gym to unwind after a particularly bad case, and Aaron had the same idea and so you're just there getting distracted because you can't help but stare at him and maybe he finally notices and he's amused - I would die (a happy death)
distractions
you and me both <3 cw; gn!, bau!reader, mutual pining, suggestiveness, your basic cm case descriptions, aaron being hot per usual
your first priority after the jet touched down - the bau's gym.
the case had been unsettling; a not-so-happy ending. sure, you had gotten the guy, but not before he had taken out his most recent victim. he had known it was only a matter of time until he was caught, he had known police had shut down the surrounding area, and managed to complete his endgame before being apprehended.
it happened, sucked when it did. and rather than going straight home, a distraction was in order; to move your body instead of laying in the dark internalizing what could have been done differently.
at the late hour, you expected the gym to be empty, and you had been correct, until aaron walked in about ten minutes after you did.
he seemed just as surprised to see you as you did him, silently nodding a hello at you, heading for the treadmills.
you had been on a yoga mat, stretching and warming up your muscles before doing anything strenuous. but at the sight of him, your impending workout plans were far gone.
you were used to seeing aaron in his usual suit, you'd seen him in casual clothes a few times due to team outings, but nothing could have prepared you for the skin-tight black shirt he was sporting. it was clinging in the all right places - his torso, biceps, and yup - you could've sworn he did have the faintest of abs.
you've always been attracted to him, but this. your mouth had immediately gone dry, your body felt warm despite your lack of movement, and no pure thoughts were in your mind in any capacity.
you tried your hardest to not look, but you couldn't tear your eyes away. how could you not? first reason being, it was him. and then the longer he ran, the sweat caused his shirt to stick to his skin more if it were possible, his chest rose up and down the heavier he breathed. as he jogged his calves flexed, and god were his thighs sexy. his shorts were on the longer side, mid-thigh to be exact, leaving more to the imagination than you would have preferred. but the slightly, newly exposed skin was still, well, new.
so you stayed put, choosing to just admire the view before you. but hopefully to not be too obvious, you performed sit ups; lingering upright to grant yourself the visual before laying back down.
well, at least this is one way to forget about the case.
give or take another five minutes, aaron adjusted the treadmill's settings, slowing to a stop.
"that's it?" you teased, a soft laugh leaving you as you straightened your legs out, reaching for your toes.
as if you were the one to speak, barely moving an inch.
"yeah," he took a swig of his water bottle, panting as he caught his breath. "it's a bit hard to focus with you here."
caught.
"oh my god," your face burned with embarrassment, scrambling to your feet. "i didn't mean to- i mean, you just looked so..."
aaron laughed handsomely, approaching you as your words trailed off. "i meant i don't want to trip over my feet. especially not with you here. it wouldn't look very good for me, i don't think."
oh? "oh."
"but go on." aaron teased, his lips pulling into a smirk as his eyes met yours, dropping for a moment. he was studying you this time around - the light sweat coating your skin, and not very subtly staring at your lips. his breath picked up again, his gaze returning to yours. you also realized, he was dangerously close. "i looked...?"
you swallowed, blinking up at him and managing a soft, "what?"
"i saw you staring. now c'mon, don't start something you can't finish, sweetheart."
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glammiketrash · 8 months
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Monty didn’t attack Bonnie. Freddy did.
This post is not a joke: Ruin gives us enough clues to know that Bonnie was attacked by Freddy the day he disappeared, and Monty saw the attack.
Word count: 2457 words.
Yup, I wrote an entire essay with pictures to take the blame from a fictional gator that became my comfort character. If someone from Steel Wool is reading this: Yes, I’m ok, thanks for asking. If you want to send a cute Monty picture to my inbox, it is open and I’ll be all over the place if you do it.
Now, let me take you with me on this wild ride, because this theory fits the narrative of both Security Breach and Ruin so well that I have to clap at Steel Wool if it is actually correct and not me playing with the puzzle pieces incorrectly. So, here we go!
Bonnie, judging by the golden eyes and his travel pattern, was protecting someone like Freddy did with Gregory. Important damage was directed to the stomach hatch, where a kid could hide.
He has claw marks there, but Monty didn’t got his until the first was decommissioned and was then modified to play his bass.
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The scratches in his hatch are green, but also the cracks over it. It looks like it is his base color instead of paint left by the attacker. The next video is from FazFriends, where they look at every single detail in the Ruin animatronic models. Their analysis are totally worth your attention if you like SB!
youtube
Monty has black nails, even before he was modified to play Bonnie’s bass. They also are kinda blunt, and the marks the attacker left seem more clean and sharp in the ends.
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Now, there aren’t lots of animatronics that have claws. We have Roxy (and I’m guessing Foxy, if he ever existed as an animatronic different to her), The mimic/Burntrap, who doesn’t really seem an option because he’s slow and in life support in SB and sealed in Ruin, and… there’s Freddy. But, and here’s the twist, not normal Freddy, who couldn’t get through gates like Monty until he got his claws.
I’m talking about this thing.
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Not only do we have environmental clues that confirm this attack, but also a key clue that wouldn’t make any sense otherwise.
Let’s start with the Prototype itself!
Check those claws. They are sturdy enough to survive all the damage this model has received, and extremely sharp at the end. Now compare Bonnie and its hand together…
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It’s a perfect fit. The metal is a bit bent in the left, but if you could lower it, the finger length, the palm, even the distance and shape between the thumb and index are the same than the hole in Bonnie’s chest.
If that detail is true, all pieces of the narrative fit together. Here’s what happened, which I will explain further adding sources:
Monty saw Freddy’s prototype attacking Bonnie (who was in safe mode) in Gator Golf’s catwalks. The hurricane hole-in-one was activated, causing them both to fall. He could see the prototype losing its head and taking damage to its leg, but Bonnie was nowhere: he was either able to go back to Bonnie Bowl by himself using the distraction or the fall knocked him out and was dragged there, where he was heavily damaged.
This next part is not so clear, so I’ll give you my version of what I think happened that night: Bonnie alerted police that a kid was in danger. They show up, but Vanessa sent them away, claiming she was the only person there and it was a prank call (False Alarm message in SB). Vanny uses Bonnie’s trust on Freddy against him: she sends the prototype to go after the kid and him. He makes it to Monty’s, where the hurricane causes damage to the prototype, and is then finally attacked and disassembled behind his attraction to silence him and bury any clue or what happened (his parts are all over the place, one of his arms has weel marks, and Ruin follows the PQ ending where Freddy is disassembled. In SB, endos come out from the lines to attack us, and in Ruin we see the zone where his vanity is infested with STAFF robots, both in its normal version and in VR, where a giant STAFF robot is seen being dragged to a door while it leaves scratch marks on the floor).
Fazbear Entertainment pretended they actually looked for Bonnie and found nothing at all. As a final punishment for his disobedience he was actively being erased from existence: most of his art was removed, and some ask for a re-theme of his attraction (Re-theme SB message). They make Monty the main bassist, giving him his green room too.
These changes are being quickly pushed after his decommission: Bonnie still has power when we find him, Monty falls from the catwalks “a month ago” and snaps in half, a place where he goes every time he skips a performance (Monty Mischief SB message), people constantly ask for Bonnie and there isn’t an approved answer to give, the bowling alley still wasn’t given a re-theme after taking out most of Bonnie’s images.
Despite FazEnt efforts, Bonnie is remembered, specially by a depressed Monty.
His body was modified, he was given his bass, his glasses, his room, his role. The higher ups clapped thinking about the possibility of him being even more popular than Bonnie, his disappearance becoming yet another opportunity to make money.
And it was Freddy’s prototype’s fault. His normal life, the person he admired the most, his own body, were taken from him because of him.
From that day, and after getting new claws, his attitude becomes obsessive, endlessly searching for what was left of Bonnie after the rest gave up: destroying fences to explore the undergrounds, constantly missing shows and always being found in the catwalks, even after being snapped in half by the hole-in-one bucket, trying to guess where his body was. His last known location was his attraction, so he should still be there somewhere, isn’t it?
Let me repeat this: he prefers looking for Bonnie in the catwalks even at risk of his own integrity than performing.
There are more details that show us he does care for him: there are four official images left of Glamrock Bonnie in the PizzaPlex, three of them in Monty’s ride, the last one at the entrance of his own attraction, where some animations can still be seen. These cutouts are in perfect shape, while Freddy’s is light off.
There is also a headless Freddy statue that once you go to FazerBlast screams “prototype”.
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It looks like it’s been decapitated by a hurricane, some “cables” coming out of its head like the prototype, which has cables coming out of its neck.
This damage couldn’t have been caused by the earthquake: the head should had fallen to the ground instead of being pinned on the hurricane. Plus, it doesn’t match the theme of the ride, based on cutouts, and while the rest of the elements are placed in scenarios and their composition is clearly studied, this statue breaks the symmetry of the hurricane’s eye element, that is supposed to give you the illusion that you are entering its eye and being pushed out to the main attraction.
What’s more, in a story exclusively about Monty’s past and how he became a solo bassist in the PizzaPlex thanks to Bonnie, attracting the same amount of people than the Glamrocks themselves, a Freddy statue at the end doesn’t make any sense sense at all… Unless it was put there with a very particular purpose.
I like to think it’s part of an environmental story telling from Steel Wool, specially when you read the rest of clues together.
There’s more to say about this statue than the lack of a head: look at its leg damage, and how it matches the prototype’s heavily damaged one, and how the hand that is visible reflects the light making it look like it has long claws despite Freddy having short ones like the rest of the band.
It also has two blue long lines through his chest that resemble the ones in Bonnie’s.
If you still have doubt about how it is part of a scene representing the night of the attack, then you should know there is an easter egg here: if you follow the part of the tornado that goes up, you can see a Bonnie cutout at the very top of it. He’s far away from the rest of the scene and he looks like if he was being knocked by the tornado. If you zoom to look at his face, you can see he has a worried expression.
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Monty didn’t destroy any of the images of Bonnie or his previous iterations, not the cutouts, not this poster, not the bass that belonged to him, even after causing damage to his room.
There is a detail in Gator Golf that is easy to miss: An intact poster of the original Bonnie near a log he uses as a hideout in Ruin (we see him quickly going out of it when we approach it).
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He looks similar to the illustration at the entrance of Bonnie Bowl, but this image is not very charming. He looks half dead, yeah...? If you then go to Bonnie’s, some big screens are still on and advertising pizza. When you wear the mask, they change to a glitched version of the Bonnie animation, where his eyes go blank in a similar way to this poster.
This spot couldn’t have been used by Vanny: it is decorated exactly like the rest of Gator Golf in the base game, which ends with us saving Vanessa and exiting the PizzaPlex together.
The poster also has a drawing of Freddy stuck on it. In this chapter you can also find the Bonnie’s piñata collectible, the first time we can see his Glamrock design and the first clue of him having suffered an attack (it has a big gash in his chest).
He could have easily taken it down if he wanted, specially when it is so close to his hideout and he’s in such a volatile state, but he keeps it right beside it.
But the real Freddy (or, at least, things that resemble him) seems to cause some kind of reaction even in the base game, yes?
The most common example in Security Breach is the arcade version of Monty’s Gator Golf. There are two possible readings for it, depending on if you think it represents Monty’s mind or if you think it has been hacked to change his behavior.
Hole 1 depicts Freddy separated from the group, a big distance between them. Hole 9 shows him in a dumpster, and Chica, Roxy and Monty playing together. He’s never part of the group, so either Monty hates him or he was hacked so he would hate him, right?
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But the main show were he looks happily at him while playing, the fact that he never attacks him even after being hacked, the presence of images of him on other holes all perfectly light and ok like this balloon, and the eye color difference between Hole 1 and 9, make me think Steel Wool is trying to tell us a way different story.
The Freddy in the dumpster is the only one with golden eyes. Hole 9 represents what is happening the night we play as Gregory, the AR part of the AR-cade, and of the main reasons the Monty taking down theory was so popular.
That night, Roxy, Chica and him are working on finding the kid to the point that their cases crack and get dirty, while Freddy not only glitched at the start of the show hours before, but is now also walking around the PizzaPlex doing NOTHING instead of helping (apparently).
It’s the animatronic equivalent of a group project were one of the members does nothing, so you have to do their part and then they show up and are praised. It makes sense he would be angry at the situation and think he’s trash, but even so, there are no real confrontations between them.
But what about Hole 1, then? The answer is the fireflies. There are some fireflies at the left part, but the right, where Freddy is looking, has other set of lights. If you calculate the distance from Chica to him, the center is almost where the hole is, the part of the arcade that is supposed to drag your attention. Having an empty space there feels uncomfortable and a very questionable decision from whomever designed the scene, but if this one is a reflection from reality or Monty’s current mind state, why aren’t Freddy’s eyes gold?
Well, I don’t think he is separated from his band.
I think someone is missing from the picture instead.
Bonnie was erased from the Arcade.
As it was said, these changes were quick and non-planned: they deleted his model from the arcade, but had no time to move and reprogram the positions of the rest of the characters so the space between them was filled. As a consequence, when you play this level, your attention is taken from the hole to the distance between them.
It is void, awkward, it makes you uncomfortable. You know something is missing, but you can’t quite tell what it is yet. It makes you wish there was one more character there even before you knew there actually was.
Once you learn what happened, how his story ties to the place this scenario represents, the void he left in Freddy and Monty specifically, Hole 1 gains a new meaning, and it hits you. When you go back to the PizzaPlex as Cassie and play the arcade, there’s no joy left there. No fireflies, no Glamrocks, just ruins. Two pairs of red eyes and a pile of Nightmare STAFF bots. That’s all that’s left.
But if you still need one more clue to convince you that the prototype was the one that attacked Bonnie, then let me tell you there is a final one that wouldn’t make sense otherwise:
The AR collectibles dialogue.
Cassie always makes a commentary about the things she finds: Monty’s AR plushie being very glitchy, how she wants to add Roxy’s one to her collection, how the her father wouldn’t tell her why they replaced Bonnie and how he was his dad’s favorite…
But she also asks him what happened to him, and gets an answer when she gets the last collectible.
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The AR Golden Bonnie is hidden in Bonnie Bowl, next to a Wet Floor Sign bot.
She hasn’t been to Fazer Blast yet.
But the description answers the question that she asked him: a prototype.
Bonnie was decommissioned by Freddy’s prototype.
And the only ones that know are a kid lead to her death that can hear his agony through the Wet Floor Bots and unreal collectibles, and an animatronic blamed for his death and told he’ll never be him, obsessed with his loss and with finding whatever is left of the person that he admired the most and helped him become the star he once was.
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targaryenluvs · 2 months
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— BEST LIFE
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pairings: spencer reid x fem!bau!reader (past), harvey specter x fem!juniorpartner!reader (present)
summary: you’d once been apart of the bau team, but after a situation and a falling out with your boyfriend you moved on. what happens when the bau needs your help on a case, which your boyfriend harvey is also assisting on?
warnings: angsty, asshole harvey cause duh, jealousy (spencer) kisses, cute harvey
wordcount: 1.7k
a/n: this literally sprouted in my mind and i just needed to write it lmao, if you haven’t watched suits or criminal minds go right now‼️ they’re both my husbands 😋
when jessica had called you into her office, you’d been calm. apparently one of your cases, which had you and harvey working together, was now of fbi interest. your client was currently suing a company for faulty wiring in his home, which caused it to burn down. and it was apparently not the case at all, the home was suspected to be tied into a serial arsonist.
what you didn’t expect was for your client to be accused of being the arsonist.
“you’re sitting here,”
“uh-huh.”
“telling me,”
“yup.”
“that i’m supposed to believe that richard jeena, the fifty three year old little man, is a serial arsonist?”
you shut the file infront of you, meeting harvey’s eye, “sweetheart?” he uncrossed his legs, leaning forwards with a sweet smile, “yes?” you leaned forwards as well, “that, is exactly what i’m telling you.” harvey leaned back into his chair, disbelief riddling his face.
“and the fbi is flying here?” you nodded along, “fbi agents?” you nodded again, “probably field agents or whatever they’re called. they’ll sit in on the trial, survey the scenes, collect evidence and all.” the familiar clicking of donna’s heels brought a smile to your face, “profilers.”
your heart dropped with one word, “what’d you say?” donna made her way to the two of you, plopping herself down in the chair next to you, “it’s those fbi profilers. yknow, they look at the room and can tell you if he’s left or right handed, blonde, mommy issues and all. nice little packaged criminal profile in seconds.” you couldn’t help correcting her, having dealt with your fair share of assumptions in your years as a profiler.
“that’s not how it works,” harvey swiveled in his chair as donna looked your way, “oh?” harvey smirked as you sighed, “that’s not how it works, we don’t just walk into a room and have it speak to us. we survey the place, fresh eyes and open minds. we look for the things that everyone else seems to miss. we put ourselves in the minds of the criminals themselves, to get a better understanding of them, why they did it and all. you work your way back, start from the victim maybe, see where they’ve been, what they did in the last week, who they talk to. sometimes the killers in their personal circle but not always. every case is different, we try our best to provide an accurate, unbiased profile.”
“i want to take you on my desk, right now.” you rolled your eyes at your boyfriends words as donna stared intently, “we. you said ‘we’, as if you know what they do and their job. oh my god, you use to be one. that’s the job you had before coming here! you have a degree in criminal justice, and you said your last job you were at for what, seven years?”
“i graduated high school early, entered harvard at a young age, graduated, entered the fbi at the same time as a— friend. was also studying law, sat the exam in new york since it’s where i wanted to be. finished up at harvard, i was mid to late twenties when i left, wound up here and am now a junior partner, capiche?”
“could just say your age.” mike stood by the door with a wad of files in his hand, “i’d rather die, mike.” harvey laughed, “please don’t incentivise my lovely girlfriend to killing herself mike.”
“as nice as it is to see you all bonding, and trust me, it hits me right in the heart, jessica wants yourself and y/n in the conference room.” louis spoke from the door as you stood up, “first of all, trust with you is fickle, second, tell it to hit you in the face next time lou.” you smacked harvey’s arm as he held his arms up, “friendly fire, i’ll put it out later.” you shoved him by his back before smiling at louis, “i’m sorry about him, he’s not a big fan of the fbi.” louis nodded as he followed you, “duly noted.”
“she’s right, damn pigs.” harvey joked as you approached the conference room, “your highness,” you grinned, “you never treat me so nicely when we’re at home harvey.” he held his hand over his heart, “now don’t lie sweetheart, i’m as nice as mike.” the snort that left your lips had harvey doubling over, “oh please, nice as mike? you wish.”
your giggles were drained from your throat as you stared at half of your old team.
derek morgan, emily prentiss, penelope garcia & spencer reid. the last name, and face you’d still not looked at yet. thankfully, harvey noticed your tenseness, “y/n? sweetheart, you alright?” there it was, that word, sweetheart. spencer couldn’t help but wonder, was it just a word? you always use to call him it, before you dated, teasing of course.
“yeah, i’m fine harv.” he nodded, even if he didn’t believe you he could always ask later on. pulling out his and yours chairs, you sat next to one another. “harvey specter & y/n l/n?” emily questioned as you nodded, “the one and only. and then there’s y/n.” harvey leaned back in his chair, whilst derek stared him down.
what an ass. is what he wanted to say, it was also what he assumed emily was thinking. “emily.” she glanced over at you, surprised at you using her name, “it’s nice to see you all. how’ve you been?” and the bewildered expression was wiped clean off your face, no remnant left. you were a damn lawyer, if there was one thing you’d learned, it was to keep a straight face.
penelope smiled, “we’ve been good, y/n. but we miss you, back home. you’re a lawyer now huh?” you grinned, “the one and only.” harvey squeezed your hand, you squeezed back. “youngest junior partner, ever. my dream. just hoping to make it to senior partner soon, take the title of youngest out from under this guy. i’m happy here, i hope you are too. but down to business.”
and for the next few hours, you’d sat and listened. overlooking the case files, giving statements, reviewing security footage from surrounding houses. at some point mike ended up in the room, having met with your client and being harvey’s associate.
you’d had the pleasure of introducing spencer and mike, the two undeniably similar. you felt comfortable, even betting with penelope that if they touched the world would implode.
“and how much would he loose?”
“127,478.23.” mike and spencer rushed out as the rest of you fought to suppress your smiles, “well y/n, seems like we’ve got a genius-off.” derek laughed as the two men looked towards you, “don’t worry i’ll still love you mike.” mike scoffed at your words, “what makes you think i’d loose?”
“because i know you, and i know reid. trust me, you’d loose.”
reid. not spencer, spence, sweetheart. none of the above, you’d used his last name. as if he was nothing more than a colleague.
“okay, we’ve been here for far too long. and as much as i’d like to sit here and slowly rot, i’d rather do that at the restaurant i have booked for dinner with two lovely ladies. y/n and i have a trial date tomorrow, 8.00am. i think, we bring him along, show him what’s to happen if he doesn’t confess, than toast victory champagne when said confession rolls through. how’s that sound?” if derek’s grin was any indicator, besides a big fat yes?
spencer wanted to puke, ‘lovely ladies?’ multiple women? this man was insufferable. you gathered yourself and harvey’s files, a hand gestured towards you, the last file in said hand. “thanks reid.” he smiled, “no problem-o.” your eyebrows furrowed, “never change do you?” spencer didn’t have time to respond, his brain was too busy blowing a fuse as harvey opened the door for you. “ready for dinner lovely lady?” they all heard harvey ask as you nodded, the four watched as you walked out, his hand on your back as he pecked you on the lips.
“reid, you alright?” derek’s hand rested on his shoulder, “i’m fine, why wouldn’t i be fine? don’t we have places to be? hotch would want to know their on our side, that they reviewed all the information. they’ll help us get a confession out of him.” derek sighed, “because you just saw your ex, who you haven’t seen in years. the one you never got over, happily living in new york as comfortable as possible. a successful business woman and lawyer, happily in a relationship.”
spencer shook his head, “you don’t know that.” emily directed a sympathetic smile his way, “we sat with them for three hours. we watched them laugh, bounce off of eachother for theories, quite literally finish eachothers sentences. order food for eachother without asking, and get their meals right. they held hands when they could, he continued to call her sweetheart. and now they’re going out to dinner.”
spencer’s shoulder dropped, they were right. he’d come here excited at the possibility of seeing you again, talking to you. maybe even beginning again with you. instead, you’re apparently with some suited up asshole. he was annoyingly sweet when it came to you though.
as if the whole three hours weren’t a slap in the face, harvey’s voice rung out through the hallway, “there’s my lovely lady!” rachel, who they’d all met earlier on, was currently guiding a young girl to harvey’s arms. “daddy!” if hearts were boats, than his was sinking. he may have had a chance beforehand, but now?
“is mommy here?” your daughter was currently situated on harvey’s hip, “why don’t you hug her and find out?” your arms were out in the open as your daughter squealed before running to you, “d’you have a fun day with rach?” she nodded her head rapidly as yourself and harvey smiled, he stood behind you, chest to back. his hand rested on your waist as the other moved aside hair from her face, before moving hair from your own.
“now, my lovely ladies, it’s time for dinner.”
lovely ladies, for once, spencer had made a mistake. harvey was going out with multiple women, but not in the way he thought. his daughter and the mother of his child, you.
his words and actions meant nothing, they would mean nothing. you were happy, so happy. you had everything you wanted, a loving marriage and man, a gorgeous family. something spencer hadn’t given you. a man who knew you could hold your own. spencer knew that too, but he couldn’t help himself back then.
right now, you were living your best life.
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gxtitobxby · 8 months
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okay i’m not super into kid fics most of the time but i was reading over @thebearer ‘s writing with dad!carmen (who literally slays everything she writes) and now—
I’m thinking of his little daughter one night, sitting at the kitchen table with her hair wet from the shower, brushed back and leaving a damp spot on the back of her pyjama shirt, and she’s having some fruit for dessert while you wash dishes and Carmen prepares her lunch for school tomorrow, and out of nowhere she asks absentmindedly “Daddy could you pack some extra please?”
And Carmen is instantly on alert, Has he not been feeding her enough? Has his baby been going hungry at school? He shoots you a look but you look just as confused.
“Of course, ladybug.” He nears the table, wiping his hands with a kitchen towel all the while keeping his eyes on his little daughter munching on a piece of watermelon like she didn’t just send him down a spiral of inadequate parenting. “You been hungry after lunch?”
She shakes her head and reaches for another piece.
“Then why do you want more, babe?”
“It’s not for me, it’s for Maisy.”
Carmen is more confused by the second. But for you, who’s been a Maisy, it becomes clear as day.
“Have you been sharing your food with Maisy, bug?” you ask her with a smile, coming up to brush a few drying strands out of her face.
She nods through another mouthful, pineapple this time. She offers you a slice and you take it.
“Does she not have a lunch of her own?” Carmen seems to finally be catching up.
“No,” she hums, inspecting a blueberry before putting it back on the plate. “I think her mommy and daddy forget. They forgot to pick her up on Wenedsday”
“Wednesday,” you correct gently, using your hand to wipe the juice dripping down her chin.
“That one,” she nods.
Carmen and you lock eyes across the table. On the one hand you share an insurmountable pride that you’ve raised a child kind enough to not only notice, but to care enough to share her food and even ask for more. On the other hand, your hearts break for a child that’s going without food. You can’t fix everything, you both know that, especially since you don’t know the circumstances. But you can sure as hell make sure Maisy doesn’t go hungry at school again.
“Okay,” Carmen says before pressing a kiss to his daughter’s head. “How about I make another lunch for Maisy, hm? Can you give it to her, baby?”
“Yup!” She gives him a toothy grin and then licks her fingers clean. “Thanks, daddy. She really likes your chicken.”
Carmen smiles, “Of course, sweetheart.”
When she climbs on your lap you don’t have the heart to care about the sticky fingers reaching for your face, not when you’re feeling so full of love for the little girl you brought into this world. You take a second to thank the universe for the life it gave you, for the means to make sure your daughter will never have to go hungry. You hold her tight to your chest with misty eyes, “I’m so proud of you, you know? You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to your daddy and me.” Your kisses become playful and your daughter becomes boneless and squirmy in your arms, giggles filling the kitchen. “My sweet sweet girl, I could eat you up you’re so sweet.”
“Hey,” Carmen is approaching now, a glint in his eye as he aims a tickle at his daughter’s neck. “I want a piece of the sweetness too.”
After that night, Carmen makes sure to always send his daughter to school with an extra serving and you make arrangements with a couple of parents to carpool after school.
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justauthoring · 2 months
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too early.
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you wanted him to live a long life, even if that meant without you
a/n: whos ready for some angstttt woop woop!
tw: minor spoilers for the manga(?), death
pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader
“Satoru.” 
“I know.”
with barely concealed tears, you glance up at him through blurred vision. your shoulders feel heavy, and your heart hurts and Gojo knows that—of course he knows. Yet, there isn’t a single thing he can do. 
He can’t change what’s happened.
“I didn't want you here.”
And he just smiles. in that way that Gojo always has. It’s bright, despite the darkness that swallows you both, and it’s genuine as his eyes sparkle down at you. He smiles even as everything hurts, even as everything else is nothing but a cold, dark space that you’ll never leave and now, neither will he.
“But I'm here.”
Biting your lip, you step towards him.
“You’re insufferable.”
“I know.”
“And annoying.”
“Yup.”
“And you never know when to shut up.”
“But…” and he pauses for effect, face in yours so you can’t look away as his bright (and unfortunately, beautiful) eyes stare back at you with a twinkle of mischief. He’s leaning to meet your height, and he’s grinning far and wide, lips stretched out as he barely contains his own enjoyment. “You love me.”
And, regrettably, you do.
Rolling your eyes, you press a hand to his cheek, pushing him away as you groan.
“As if.”
The words are a blatant lie and both of you know that.
But you’re not ready to admit yet that your feelings for your fellow classmate are anything other than platonic. You think, maybe, hopefully, he isn’t either. 
(He isn’t).
So, you’ll continue to deny it. Feign annoyance and disgust when really your heart beats madly within your chest, showing no sign of stopping anytime soon, and your cheeks burn, dusted rose across the apples of your cheeks. It’s all there, plain to see, but you plead obliviousness and Gojo does the same.
Obliging to you, he steps back, chuckling to himself.
“Yeah,” he mumbles, more to himself than anyone. “As if.”
-
“Do you remember the first time we met?”
Blinking, you turn to Gojo. “You mean when you laughed at me… to my face.”
Frowning, Gojo shakes his head; “that is not what happened.”
“That is in fact what happened,” you correct, shaking your head at him. He’s sitting in front of you, sitting the wrong way on a chair as he leans on the corner of one of the legs dangerously (and you swear he will end up falling soon). You’d been trying to catch up on some homework when Gojo had found you in the empty classroom and had promptly decided you were to occupy him for the time being. 
(Geto was out on a mission).
But, he’s brought with him some candy and even if he whined every time you did, you still proceeded to invite yourself to a couple gummies every once in a while.
So, his annoyance is forgivable.
(And really, you don’t mind, if you’re being honest.)
“I introduced myself to you, you took one look at me, called me ‘weak’ and laughed.” You explain, sending him a deadpanned look.
Gojo continues to stare back at you like you’re lying (the audacity), before he blinks, as if thinking back. The grin on his face falters somewhat as the memory resurfaces, and he blinks back at you, looking oddly apologetic.
Not a look Gojo wears very often.
“Well, I take it back.”
You’re halfway through stealing one of his gummies when you pause, hand left stretched out before you as you stare back at him.
“What?”
“You’re not weak,” he shrugs, “and I shouldn’t have laughed at you. Obviously, I’m still stronger than you,” you roll your eyes, “but I take it back.”
Raising a brow, you squint at him. “Are you trying to apologize?”
“Maybe?”
“The answer is yes or no, Gojo.”
“...Yes.”
It’s more honest than you’re expecting. If you’re being truthful, this whole conversation is not what you’d expected at all. 
But still, he’s apologizing, in his own way, and he seems to mean it. It didn’t really bother you all that much all that more–it was a long time ago and Gojo was just like that, though you’ll admit he’s lessened his smugness a little bit through the time you’ve known him. At least when he’s with you, he does, and he doesn’t make you feel like a infuriable piece of trash next to him, so, you know, he’s making the right steps. 
(All the right steps).
“Well,” you settle on eventually, grabbing your gummies. “Apology accepted.”
And really, his grin is bright enough to forget that his apology was pretty lousy.
-
“Ow.”
“It’s not my fault you got hurt.”
Pouting, you turn away from Gojo, not wanting to look at his face currently because if you have to see his smirk one more time you swear you’re going to strangle him—
“Lift your arm,” he’s calling, a hand wrapping around your wrist to guide the motion. Your lips part at the touch, hating the flutter of nerves that hits you, letting your head rest in your other hand as you listen to him, lifting your arm, and letting him move it until it’s resting on his shoulder.
You stare back at him then.
“You should’ve let me come with you.”
Huffing, you roll your eyes. “I thought you said I’m not weak.”
“You’re not,” he says plainly, pulling at your shirt to place the bandage at your side. Your cheeks warm when you realize he’s seeing skin he’s never seen before, swallowing thickly at the feeling of his fingers ghosting across sensitive skin. It’s enough to pull goosebumps, and you hope he doesn’t notice them.
(He does).
“I’m just the strongest.”
Shoulders falling, you decide to watch him. “It’s not that bad.”
“You’re bleeding.”
“That’s why I said I should find Shoko.”
“She’s not here.”
“Oh.”
(She is–Gojo wants to take care of you).
“Still,” you say after a moment, “it doesn’t hurt.”
He glares at you. “You were hissing not a minute ago.”
“That’s cause you pressed on it!” You argue, shifting in your seat as you ignore his heavy gaze. “You’re very heavy-handed, I’ll have you know. And no skill in cleaning wounds either. I swear, it hurts more now then it did before so–”
You stop rambling when you realize he’s finished patching the wound and is simply staring at you.
“So… yeah,” you finish lamely.
(You can’t think all that well when he looks at you like that).
“Don’t push yourself too hard,” he says after a moment. His voice is oddly serious in a way it rarely is with Gojo. Though, it feels like recently, Gojo sounds more worried and serious with you than he had before. 
You don’t want to think about what that could mean.
(You don’t want to get your hopes up).
“You shouldn’t go on missions where you’ll get hurt.”
“It’s my job, Gojo.” You remind, “I don’t have much of a choice.”
“You do,” he says sharply. “I’ll make it so.”
Licking your lip, you stare at the worry in his eyes. Gojo was very rarely expressive in his emotions and you’ve come to learn that he often hid the way he really felt; but sometimes it felt like you were the only one who really saw how he felt. Because he’d look at you like this, with a furrow in his brow and concern in his gaze and it’d leave you stunned.
Stunned in the way you couldn’t speak.
“Okay,” you whisper, forcing the words out because that’s what you settle on. That’s all you can settle on. “I won’t.”
-
“Gojo–!” 
His back is turned to you, shoulders tensed, his hands clenched by his sides. Whatever you’d been about to say dies on the tip of your tongue because what do you say?
How could you ever say something that would be enough to fix what’s happened?
But still, you want to try. You can’t just leave it alone. Not after what had happened. You couldn’t even begin to think how he must be feeling, the confusion and hurt and rage that must be flooding through him.
And if you could in any way soothe that, you had to try.
(Little did you know, you’d done just that the second you’d called for him).
“I’m…” You hesitate, stepping towards him with a hand stretched out uselessly before him. Even if you wanted to touch him, you couldn’t–not with his infinity… “I’m so sorry.”
Gojo stays still. The slight rise and fall of his shoulders as he takes even shallow breaths is the only inclination that he’s alive and breathing and listening.
“I heard about… about Geto–I was called away on a mission so I’m sorry I wasn’t here earlier,” you explain, your words rambling as you try to sort through the chaos of thoughts in your mind. You’d never had to comfort Gojo before–did he even want to be comforted? Did he want to be comforted by you?
You doubted it.
(He did).
“I’m so sorry.”
And you truly are even if the words mean nothing to him. Even if he doesn’t care that you’re sorry. 
You still are.
You blink, eyes falling to your feet, and you’re starting to think you should just leave. Gojo clearly didn’t want you there or to hear you ramble, and it was silly of you to think that you of all people would be able to help someone like him. 
Then, there are arms wrapping around your shoulders and you’re pressed flush against a strong chest.
“Gojo–” 
He just shakes his head, holding you tighter and understanding, you close your mouth, letting the words you’d been about to say die out. 
Because Gojo didn’t want you to speak and he surely didn’t want to either. It was easier to be silent but better to be silent with you. You made it all a little more bearable and if he was honest with himself, you always had.
He just hadn’t known how much until now.
So, instead, you let yourself ease, moving to wrap your arms around him in return, and his head is moving to cradle into the crook of your neck, his nose pressed against the skin as he lets out the faintest, softest, shuddering breath.
You move to press a hand against the back of his head, and squeeze in the hopes it helps even just a little (—it does and more).
-
“Can I just–fuck it.”
Before you can even realize, his lips are pressed against your own.
Warm, soft lips against yours, his hands finding purchase on your waist as you tense at the contact, stunned, your brain lagging as you try to process what’s happening. A second ago Gojo had been chatting your ear off as normal, the two of you alone in your dorm as you often found yourselves now, because Shoko rarely had time now because of her role in Jujutsu High and Geto… well, Geto just wasn’t there.
Gojo was busy too. Really busy. And you were too. Maybe not as much, but in your own way. 
Gojo made sure any free time he did have was spent with you though. You return the sentiment with ease.
It felt natural, after all.
And yeah, maybe you’d admit the two of you had been dancing around these feelings for a long time. You can’t count on both hands the amount of times Shoko has begged you to just kiss the man already if you were going to make love eyes at him all the time (her words).
There were other instances too, but they were too painful to remember.
You’d known for a long time the way you felt about Gojo, but you didn’t want to mess up what the two of you had. And that had been at first, before it had developed into this comraderie you only could find in him—and you definitely didn’t wanna mess that up by letting your emotions get in the way. So, you just… didn’t. It was comfortable, this bond the two of you had developed and the idea of losing that was too heartbreaking.
Chances were scary when it could destroy everything.
So you didn’t take any.
(Gojo was tired of not taking any).
He’s pulling back before you can move, slightly breathless as he smiles faintly down at you. “The point is to kiss me back, you know.”
And you blink, once, twice, before his words register and you gape up at him.
“I-I–!” You can’t find the words, feeling like your mind is short-circuiting as you stare up at him. Because it was so like him to be so smug when he’d just kissed you without confirming how you felt in return. It was so like him to just know that you were completely and wholeheartedly in love with him. 
(Probably because he was too).
His hands are still on your waist and he’s close, more close than he’s ever been. You can feel his breath against your cheeks, and you’re sure you’re bright red, but you don’t want to pull away and you desperately want him to kiss you back.
Reaching forward, you decide Gojo’s words are all too fitting and to fuck it—you tug at his shirt, leaning to meet his lips.
He chuckles as you do, laugh warm and husky and it makes your knees feel weak as your lips meet his once more, eyes fluttering shut.
(It was, truly, everything you’d ever dreamed about).
And as you both pull away once more, breathless, he leans his forehead against your own and you run your fingers through the hairs on the back of his neck, laughing lightly. 
“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” you confess, turning to glance up at him.
Gojo grins; “me too.”
“So we were waiting for nothing?”
He shrugs; “guess so. But it doesn’t matter now.”
Your brows furrow, shaking your head as he shuffles closer, squeezing your hips.
“Because now I can kiss you whenever I want.”
-
“I’m gonna go speak to that Megumi kid tomorrow.”
Pausing at Gojo’s words, you close the book you’d been reading, shifting on the bed next to him to face him better. He’s already looking at you, tired eyes focused on your own as you nod at him. “Okay.”
“Just okay?” He asks, as if almost hesitantly. “I could end up with a kid depending on what he says.”
You nod. “I know.”
Gojo seems puzzled, head tilting as he leans over to his side rather than his back. His hand falls on your arm, grip gentle. “You’re okay with that?”
“I am,” you answer. “I want you to do what you think is right.”
“Even if it means bringing a random kid home?”
Snorting, you nod again. “Yes, Satoru. Even if it means bringing a kid home.”
“We’d have to… raise him,” he explains, the words sharp and uncomfortable on his tongue. “Or, at least, pay for him to live. Something like that.”
You laugh, reaching forward to cup his cheek. “Whatever you decide, I’m okay with.”
Gojo still seems skeptical. He eyes you like he’s sure there’s some hidden meaning behind your words or worried you might change your mind suddenly. 
(You’d decided long ago you’d follow him to the ends of the earth if that’s what he decided). 
“...You’re sure?”
Smiling, you hum; “yes.” 
“Okay…” He says slowly, eyes flickering back to you once more just to make sure.
You just giggle, leaning into him and letting your head rest on his shoulder. 
“Remember I have that mission tomorrow, too,” you remind him. “Whatever you decide, I’m okay with it but I won’t be there to help you until I come back from the mission. So, you’d be on your own with him for a while.”
Gojo guffaws next to you; “you’re acting like I’ve already decided.”
You raise a brow, glancing up at him through your lashes; “haven’t you?”
Frowning, Gojo squints down at you. “Maybe…”
Shaking your head, you just laugh. “I look forward to meeting him.”
“...Me too.” Gojo agrees, “if he wants to come.”
“He will,” you shrug. “I’m sure.”
Gojo doubts your certainty, but he doesn’t argue against it either. Instead, he shifts to wrap his arm around your waist and pull you closer against his side. You’ve got an early mission tomorrow, after all, and he doesn’t want to waste every last second he has with you until he’s torn apart from you for a whole weekend.
(Truly, the worst hell those higher up can subject him to).
You feel the same, of course. So you lean into him with ease, relishing in the feeling of his warmth and familiarity.
Thinking to yourself that your whole world will be different when you return—you and Gojo and a… kid.
(It’s crazy, but you still love the idea of it).
-
You don’t come home after that mission, though.
You don’t come home ever again.
And you don’t see Gojo until ten years later.
-
Setting your hands against his cheeks, you frown. 
“I wanted you to live a long life.”
Gojo shakes his head. “Wasn’t worth living without you.”
You sniffle, swallowing back the tears that just continue to fall relentlessly. It was wonderful to have Gojo in your arms once more, but… but you’d wanted him to live forever… raising the new generation of Jujutsu Sorcerers and protecting them. Live a life, even if it meant without you.
You’d been content just watching.
But he was here now, regardless, and it would be silly to deny the fact that a part of you was happy to have him with you once more even if it broke your heart all the same.
“I missed you,” Gojo whispers against the top of your head, pulling you close into a hug. He holds tight and long, savoring the fact that he can have you in his arms once again after years of being forced to live without you. “I missed you so much.”
“Me too,” you agree, pressing your face into his chest and breathing in his familiar scent. “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it home.”
Gojo just shakes his head, a hand pressing to the back of yours.
“It’s okay,” he assures, “because I have you now.”
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goldenhourwriter · 9 months
Text
•✮🕷️𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐤𝐢𝐝🕷️✮•
part one (you are here) • part two •
⋆pairing: miguel o’hara x wife!reader
⋆warning(s): i guess just fighting and some cursing. and threatening to bite someone lol. also i got translations from spanish dict, if i did something wrong, please correct me. i tried to use the right definitions/context to use those definitions in! also pregnancy.
⋆a/n: this was so fun to write! requests are open, and i am new to this blog, so hang on while i get this all figured out. requests are open, and this will be a mini series i am continuing!!
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It’s not usually this quiet at the Spider Society.
It’s nice.
I walk around, humming softly to myself as I munch on a banana, a craving I usually get. I let my hand rest on my slightly swollen belly, my suit especially made to let it stretch and give the baby some room.
Yeah, ever heard of a pregnant Spider-Woman?
It happened a couple of months ago, as married couples tend to let happen. It’s twins, actually. One boy and one girl, but, my husband doesn’t know yet. Doesn’t want to know. I called the doctor anyways, and even though he threw a hissy fit that could rival a toddler, he relented and said it was fine.
And, it was kind of nice being alone. A lot of the spider-people tend to do things for me, think I’m incapable of doing things now because I’m pregnant. Even the ridiculous Spider-Man T-Rex gave me a ride through the halls. I snort at the thought, gaining some weird looks.
Obviously, I didn’t refuse. Who would pass up a ride on a freaking dinosaur?
My few 30 minutes of bliss, however, was interrupted by the beeping on my watch. I tap on it and smile when I see Lyla. She gives a wave.
“Hey, big wifey,” she teases, pushing up her pink, heart-shaped glasses. I roll my eyes. Everyone knows I hate that name. It doesn’t make me feel fat, it just makes me very aware of the two babies living inside of me, and how very uncomfortable life can really get.
“Hey, algorithm girl, what’s up?” I shoot back with sarcasm. I am met with satisfaction as she gives me a dead-pan look.
“Haha, very funny, love that,” she says sarcastically. “Your husband is struggling with an anomaly. Earth-65, some kind of Renaissance bird-man.”
I giggle at the thought. I can imagine his annoyance. “Gotcha, and did he actually call for back up?” I ask, but i already know the answer. I take another bite of my banana, shifting my weight onto my right leg. I can never stand still for too long, luckily, being a super hero can keep me moving. Keeps the babies satisfied.
She snorts at me, like i was making some hilarious, un-heard of joke. I relent, sighing and preparing my bracelet to go to the universe she said he was in.
“Alright, alright. How long do you think until he actually asks?”
“I’d give you about two minutes. He’s getting really thrown around with this one. And there’s another spider person, trying to ask him too many questions.”
My eyes perk back up to the hologram when she mentions this. “I haven’t heard of a recruit from Earth-65, is she new?” I ponder out loud. I cock my head to the side, adjusting my mask. Well, half mask. It really only covers my eyes. Lyla nods. “Yup, she’s a new one. She’s a nice kid, too.”
I smile.
“I’ll be there in a minute.”
Lyla logs off and I sigh, patting my baby bump. “Alright, you guys,” I whisper to my belly. I stick out my hand and the portal opens, and I jump in. I shout with joy, flying through the portal, and as I practically fall to the other end, my hair whips around.
I fall on the other end, and I groan as my hair blocks my vision. I hear grunting, crushing, wings flapping, and snappy remarks being thrown about, but I can’t see anything. I flip my hair over my head, shaking it out.
“I need a hair tie on these things,” I mumble to myself.
I look over, and I see a feminine-looking spider-hero staring at me. I give her a small wave. Her eyes are wide, I can tell. I examine her suit, which seems like it holds up pretty well. It has hood, which is new to me, and she’s wearing…are those ballet flats? I smile
“Hey, babes! You look cute!” I compliment to the get up.
She waves back again, and she looks down at my stomach. “Are you….?” She trails off. I look down, and put a hand on my hip. “Yep, I am. It’s twins, but don’t tell my husband the sexes yet. He wants to wait.” She nods, but seems to remember that she doesn’t know just who my husband is. She takes a step towards me.
“Who are you married to? Are there even more people like us?” I nod.
“My husband’s right….” I don’t even flinch as he gets thrown into the wall right in front of me, and I smile. “There.”
He groans as he slips to get up, his mask eyes squinting at me. I squint my eyes right back.
“Don’t give me that look. I’m carrying your children,” I scold. He gestured to the giant creature that hurls towards us. “I need help here!” He shouts at me. Lyla puts up on my shoulder, and we both cross our arms. He sighs, looking down.
“Please, Y/N? Sabes que no me gusta mendigar,(You know I don’t enjoy begging),“ He pleads quietly.
Vulture screeches at us. “Love truly makes me sick,” he narrates out loud, and he reaches his talons out for me. I stuck out my wrists and web up one wing, so he goes sideways, just barely missing me. He breaks free, but I web up behind him again.
“Your attitude makes me sick!” I shout at him. “You seem like the Beethoven of your area, jerky, cold, and not the greatest people-person!” I struggle to speak as I try to web him up again, but it doesn’t work. He barrels towards me, and grabs me in his talons. I hear Miguel growl and leap off the ground, landing on his back. He tugs on the man’s feathers, making him spin around to try and find him. I take the opportunity to web myself away from his grasp, kicking him away as I do so.
“Is this guy made of paper?” I ask, rubbing my hands together as I take a moment to actually register what just happened. Miguel grunts, and yells as he speaks to me from the bottom of the building. “Honey, I love your voice, but I really need you to use your actions right now!”
I spot a few witnesses trapped behind some rubble, so I shoot off the side of the wall to swoop them up. They scream, clutching onto me, and I drop them off right by a big police officer. He gawks at me, and I give him salute as Miguel webs me up again. I twist up, getting wrapped in his webbing, and I break free using a kick, hitting Vulture square in the jaw with my foot. He grunts in pain, squeezing his eyes shut, and Miguel uses this moment to try and guide him down, so he won’t escape.
I land right next to, what’s her name? I’ll learn it soon enough. I land right next to the teen as she stares at me. I smirk at her.
“What, never seen two married spiders?”
She swallows. “Can you adopt me?”
“What?”
“What? Nothing! Nothing!”
Miguel groans, and I can tell he’s growing tired. “¡Por Dios! ¿Puedes dejar de hablar por un momento? (Oh, my God. Can you stop talking for a moment?)” He calls out to me. I let out a heavy sigh, putting my hands on my knees. “I’m sorry, but your babies are making it hard to move right now!” I shout at him. Gwen webs away from me, and Miguel lands right next to me again. “Last time I checked, it took two people to make those two babies,” he grumbles. We take a moment and watch as Gwen tries to take down Vulture by herself.
I look at Miguel, and raise my eyebrows. “Did she call ya ‘Dark Garfield?’” I ask. He groans, and I can tell hair eyes shut as his head falls forward. “Yes.”
I giggle. “I like her. Maybe we can recruit-“ “No. No, we can’t, and you know why.” My somewhat playful attitude disappears with a frown, and I nod in compliance. He grabs my waist and he swings us up, and then we fall onto the Vulture back again. I scream through gritted teeth as I try to hold him down on the ground, but he flings me off, a sudden, new found strength in him.
“What the hell?” I curse. “Not cool, man!”
“This ends now,” he says to me, and he springs upward. I curse under my breath again, but it seems Miguel is on top of it. Literally.
“If he gets out, this whole universe will collapse!” He shouts, mainly at Gwen. I know the risks involved, having to save almost every universe from them every day. I shoot my wrist out, but I groan. I hit my web shooters, but nothing comes out. “Fuck-Miguel! I’m out!” I try to jump from floor to floor, but I quickly get nauseous while doing that. I look down at my stomach again, poking it. “So web slinging is fine but jumping is what doesn’t please you guys?” I ask the unborn babies. I get a mere kick in return. “I know that was the girl. That was way too sassy,” I grumble to myself.
Spider-Girl lands right beside me, and she looks at my husband and he battles Vulture. They both crash right through the glass ceiling, and we shield ourselves from the shards that could possibly cut us. She looks at me.
“What is he gonna do?” She asks. Miguel takes the Vulture’s face in his hands, and opens his mouth, wide, baring his fangs and giving a loud roar. “Oh snap,” whispers under his breath. But, he’s cut short, when a helicopter shines a light on him. He yells at the helicopter, his mask coming up again to cover his face.
“I’m a good guy! I’m here to help!” He desperately explains. My spider senses then go off, and I scream up to Miguel.
“Miguel! Watch-!“
I’m too late. Vulture throws two weapons at the helicopter, and then the helicopter starts to spin, going down, and fast.
“Shit.” All three of us say in unison.
I look to the kid, and she’s already looking at me. I nod towards her, and she returns the gesture, and we both know what that means. She launches off the floor, and she begins to web a net. I take a deep breath. “Alright, babies, don’t make me throw up,” I say sternly to my unborn babies.
I leap off the ground, and I fly through the middle of the helicopter, grabbing the two pilots and landing on the fourth floor of the building. I grunt as I roll on the ground with them, and we writhe in pain.
I turn to the both of them, checking on them, and I run to the edge, well, the mess that made the edge. I look down, and the teenage girl is flying through the air, webbing up a net. And just as the helicopter is about to crash, she flies right underneath it, just barely getting nipped by the chopper.
She lands, breathing heavily.
“Wow,” I whisper. Miguel hops a bit in front of me, landing on some rubble.
“I was gonna do that,” he says quietly to himself. I can tell he’s thinking her, thinking about her hard. Miguel and I share a glance at her, and she nods. She turns and hops down from the huge rock, and goes back towards the wall, out of sight. I turn and see the two pilots staring at me. I smile.
“Yeah, I know, there’s lots of freaky spider people, that was my reaction too. Cmon, let’s get you two a medic.” I reach down and offer my hand to them, which they take, one at a time. I help them to the big opening in the building where the door used to be, and I hand them over to some officers.
I sigh, turning around to find my husband surveying the area.
I walk up to him, putting a hand on his back, feeling his tense and rigid muscles, alert and still in attack mode. He seems to relax a little at my touch, and he lets his mask down. I grin, amusement
“Your hair is all messed up.” “Can you and I have one good moment after a battle where you don’t make fun of my hair?” “Absolutely not.”
He lets out a low growl, rolling his eyes. I walk a little in front of him, and stare at the place where the teen escaped to, hearing some grunting from there. No doubt she’s recovering on her own. My hand comes to rest on my stomach, my thumb running over the bump. I turn back to Miguel, my mouth open to speak, but he beats me to it.
“I said no,” he rejects me as he leans down to pick up some broken machinery. He scoffs at some poor excuse for art. “I’m starting to think Vulture did everyone a favor by destroying this place, this art sucks-“
“Miguel O'Hara, no cambies de tema,” I say sternly. He lets out a sigh. Spanish isn’t even my main language, so when I speak it, he knows I’m not messing around. He spins around, holding a figurine of a balloon dog in his hand. I would find it comedic, a big guy like him holding a small thing like that, but not when he’s trying to avoid my questions.
“You know we can use her. I’ve never seen anything like her, and she even beat you to one of your moves. You have to agree with me on this!” I gesture out in front of me, as if the conversation is laid out in front of us. Miguel sighs, walking up to me with his hands on his hips. His expression is hard, but his eyes give it away. He’s considering it, it helps if I’ve spent about a couple years with him now.
He brings his hand to my waist and another to my hair, leaning down to press a kiss to my forehead.
“Te amo demasiado a veces,” he mumbles into my hair.
Okay, that gives me absolutely nothing.
His hand travel down to my stomach, and his two very large hands splay over my tummy. His lips quirk up a bit as one of them kicks against my skin. “Did you do okay today?” He asks quietly, referring to my very pregnant self. I nod, but it doesn’t seem to reassure him.
Vulture struggles next to us, but we just give him an annoyed look. “I’m done with your attitude!” Miguel tells him, pointing at him. He sighs, turning back to me, grabbing my waist and pulling me impossibly closer, so we’re basically sharing the same breathe. My stomach flutters. Even after marrying him, he really can have the same affect on me from when I was a new recruit.
“You know you can always opt out whenever, I can call for other backup,” he says quietly. He’s trying to spare my feelings, not letting others hear so I won’t get embarrassed. I’m never embarrassed, it’s life, I got pregnant, but I appreciate the sentiment. I lean up and kiss his nose.
“I know, thank you, but really, I’m fine.” I stick a hand up as he begins to protest. “At 7 months, I will take maternity leave. I’ll rest and just be the desk person, okay?” I ask. He debates it for a moment, and lets out a grunt and nods. We stay in our somewhat embrace for a bit, when we hear a gun shot. My head whips to where Spider-Woman went and hid, and I look at Miguel.
His mask forms again, and he kicks Vulture, telling him to be still as he picks him up. Miguel picks me up with his other arm and swings to the opening as we fall in.
“Dad, please!” She begs the cop standing across from her. Miguel shoots a containment pod at him, and she runs towards him. I grab her by the shoulders, trying to use my softest voice.
“Hey, hey, kid. Hey, it’s okay, we’re here, we got you,” I say quietly to her. She’s crying as she clutches onto my arm, staring at her dad. Miguel opens a portal, and I give the kid one more pat and walk over to him.
“What are we gonna do?” I whisper to him. He looks at me. “What do you mean?”
I roll my eyes.
“We can’t just leave her here!” I get a bit louder, but he shushes me, putting a finger up. My jaw drops.
“You did not just shush me,” I growl.
“Oh, I think I did.”
“Oh, I know you didn’t-!”
Miguel and I bicker back and forth, and at some point, Vulture voluntarily hops into the portal, all tied up, not wishing to stick around. I stick my finger up as I try to argue with him, my hand coming to my hip, and he towers over me, but that never took away my edge.
Then, some sniffling gets us to shut up.
The kid looks at us, her eyes watery and wide. She looks like what she is…a teenager who’s lost and alone. She opens her mouth to speak. “I-I don’t know what to do.”
I look slowly at Miguel, and he lets his head hang forward.
“Yeah, well….”
I raise my eyebrows at him.
“Join the club.”
🕷️ 💍
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espinosaurusrexex · 9 months
Text
Tough Luck
MiguelO'Hara x Spiderwoman!Reader
summary: Miguel is the most agitating person in all universes, but somehow, you have fallen for him still. Too bad he realized his feelings towards you when it's too late. Now he needs to fix his mistakes.
a/n: yup... I caved. So here is this because Miguel is literally the only person my heart is beating for at the moment 
word count: 2.8k
warnings: mutual pining, idiots in love, Miguel is a wannabe tough guy, some angst, and just a lot of fluff, ! I don't know if all the Spanish phrases are correct - please tell me if not !
・゚✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 。✭・゚✶ 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ✧*・゚
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picture is not mine - credid to owner
You pushed through the doors of Miguel’s office and into the hallway with tears burning in your eyes. 
You just wanted to prove yourself. You were capable, a good Spider, exceptional if you could believe Peter B. Parker - but he was a little biased. Yet all you ever got from Miguel was resentment and scolding. 
Not once had he complimented you on a successful mission. Not once had he acknowledged your skills and ideas. Not. Once. 
It was bad enough he was your boss, in a way, and you wanted him to see you belonged amongst all the other heroes in spider society. But of course, through the constant pressure and struggle, your heart had decided to fall for the only person so out of reach - you were sure the universe was laughing at how pathetic it was. 
Because you had a big fat crush on him: Miguel O’Hara. The boss, the big bad grumpy so-sexy-it-hurt guy that seemed to hate your guts. The guy that probably only tolerated you because you were a version of Spider-Man in your universe. 
But he was such a hunk, ugh.
His jaw - so sharp it could cut you if you looked at it for too long, his broad shoulders - those arms, and that deep sexy smolder his mouth did when he was concentrating. All of it sent your body into a frenzy, burning you up from the inside as you tried got fight the urge to jump his bones every time you were in a room together. 
You were so sure to have seen a soft side beneath all the frowns and eye-rolls. Just not for you. 
“I should have never recruited you."
It was embarrassing. The way you so desperately tried to impress him, to have him see you as more than the annoying fuck-up he had to welcome because you were a spider. 
Peter always told you that you did nothing wrong, that Miguel was the way he was with everyone. But it didn’t go past you that his frown seemed to deepen, his eyes rolled a little more, his jaw tensed in anger when he talked to you. 
You never said anything to Peter, though. You didn’t need him to feel bad for you. Not when he had some issues himself and not when all of it was entirely your fault. 
Especially today. 
Okay... you admitted that you had tried to provoke Miguel on the last mission. You figured, if you were to get yelled at anyway, you could just as well do the things you thought the smartest - following protocol or not. It didn’t matter. 
And normally it worked. But this time you had gotten a little distracted. Because as you had swung from the beam of the museum and past Miguel and Jess, the light hit his face just right, making you stare as he angrily squinted at you and causing you to not let go soon enough. It resulted in what felt like a broken rib and maybe a minor head injury. 
But, hey. You’d caught the guy! It was just the exit that lacked grace. 
Not that it mattered anymore anyway. You’d been lacking for over a week now - made so many mistakes, that you'd considered giving up the secret identity thing altogether. It was just exhausting you more - robbing you of valuable sleep (in case it wasn’t plagued with nightmares) and just seemed to be the root of all your problems at the moment. 
You heard Jess call out after you when you pushed through the spider people on your way to a quieter place - ignoring her. 
You just wanted to be alone and not talk to anyone - preferably ever again. 
❁❁❁
It’s just his damn tough luck, Miguel sighed as he shook his head, hands ruffling through his hair. It’s not been enough he had to punish you for flunking the mission, no of course it had come with a generous side of emotional mess. 
Mierda. (shit)
He closed his eyes and could see the tears brimming in yours. How you had tried so hard to stay stoic, how you held your head a little higher when he told you off. But he saw the way your lip quivered when his eyes lit up in angry red - a stutter in his heart he tried to suppress when he pointed a finger at you. 
“What did I tell you? You follow orders or you’re off! I should have never recruited you.” The words still tasted bitter on his tongue. He had gotten too good at it.
Miguel didn’t like it - hated it, in fact, despised the way he talked to you, really. But he had to. For your sake and that of the multiverse. There was no other way.
So there was no use in beating himself up about it, right?
But why did he feel so defeated then? Miguel sighed once more. Of course he knew why, but that didn’t help in the slightest. 
“Hey Bossman, there’s someone on the line for you - should I tell them you need another minute to sulk?”
Miguel groaned at Lyla. Dios mío. (my god)
It’s Jess. It’s got to be.
“Now, what did I tell you about making people cry!” Her voice screamed at him through the monitor and he winced.
“I can do whatever I want!” He snapped back, instantly regretting it as a short but pressing silence covered the room.
Yup. He’s in for a lecture. 
“And she put us all in danger.” His jaw was clenched. 
“She’s a mess! You’d think Spider-Man would have sympathy for someone who just lost their Ben.”
“She– what?” Miguel finally looked up, his heart sinking in his chest - Jess’s stare was scolding him through the flickering hologram. 
“Don’t tell me you didn’t know.”
He didn’t. But he had been so careful, had monitored everything in your universe to make sure you were safe. How could it have slipped past him?
“Oh my god, Miguel!” He could practically see her disappointed, motherly glare. Jess had that one already.
Miguel muttered a curse word under his breath, the Spanish barely reaching Jess. 
“Now’s not the time to beat yourself up about it. I’ll do that for you later.” His eyes squinted angrily. “You need to fix this mess ASAP. I need you on top of your game and apparently, you can’t be without her. So get yo ass up and stop whining!”
“Where is she?” His voice was hoarse, void of the lump he swallowed a minute ago. 
“Her universe–“
“Thank’s Jess.”
“Hey–“ but Miguel had already ended the call. He knew where. He knew everything about you. He knew where you worked, the names of all the employees you associated with, he knew which bagel you preferred for breakfast - he even knew which parts of the paper you read in the morning ...and he also knew where you went to be alone. 
Miguel rose, still kind of catty from Jess’s call-out, and immediately opened a portal to your universe to step through. Miguel knew he needed to apologize. He was determined to - really he was, because the situations he constantly found himself in, the anger and arguing, didn't benefit anyone. 
But when he stood in the streets of your version of Nueva York, pictures of you flashing along the screens on the buildings, celebrating and broadcasting your talent, he came to a startling realization: He couldn’t explain anything without revealing his feelings for you. 
❁❁❁
Miguel watched from a safe distance as you kicked your legs sitting on the edge of the building. It wasn’t the highest building. A rather average-sized one, right by the water with a bakery on the ground floor. 
He analyzed your posture. Hands perched on the ledge and head hanging low, the occasional rocking from the kicking motion. Miguel's fingers itched to reach out and hold you. But he couldn’t. I probably never would.
Because he had spent the last year making sure you’d hate his guts. And - no much to his dismay - he had succeeded. 
He huffed. Miguel had no damn idea how to go about this. He knew the spider society needed you - he needed you. At least close to him. 
The gravel on the roof crunched when his foot stepped from the shadow. Joder. (fuck) You had spider senses, Miguel was wondering why you hadn’t found him out already - then again, you probably just wanted to be alone right now...
His arms wanted to reach forward again, his body emerging from behind his cover ever so slightly. And when he looked back up at you, he winced at your piercing eyes directed at him. ...yes, he deserved that.
You waited, just stared at him - almost daring him to move again.And Miguel felt so small, so out of control. 
He knew he had no right to be here. He had no reason to in your eyes. But he needed to fix things. Or he’d hate himself ...and Jess after she whopped his ass if he came back without you. 
Miguel’s eyes avoided you, willing his rampaging pulse to still. Cállate, corazón estúpido. (shut up, stupid heart)
“What are you doing here?” His hand fell from his chest when you spoke. It wasn’t a friendly question. More of a warning... don’t you come any fucking closer. 
“I–“ But his voice betrayed him. What the hell was he thinking coming here? One look at you told him that nothing would be fixed with a quick apology. He had a year's worth of mistreatment to make up for. And then there was still the thing about his feelings. 
Qué lío. (what a mess)
“I want to talk,” Miguel tried again only for you to become more agitated. 
“I think I heard everything I needed to hear from you.” You spat Turing back around and Miguel nodded defeated. 
“I’m sorry about Ben.”
He saw your shoulders tense, your head hanging a little lower, but you didn’t say a word. 
Miguel knew better than to approach you. You had all right to be angry at him, he had fucked up - big time. But he was too stubborn to accept defeat just yet. You were too important and he hated himself for not seeing it earlier.
“I haven’t been fair to you.” That got your attention.
“Fair?! You haven’t been fair?!” If they could, your eyes would glow red, Miguel was sure. 
He watched timidly as you closed the distance between you - fuming. Maybe this had not been the best approach. 
“You have been nothing but cruel!” Your finger pushed into his chest and Miguel's heart jumped at the touch. “Benching me for minor mistakes, arguing with me about every little decision I make, not trusting me!” You took a breath, your eyes never leaving his. “Yeah, that’s a big one.”
The broad brunette gulped visibly. He knew he was walking into a messy discussion when he stepped through the portal, but his sweaty hands and hammering pulse told him that he was not prepared still. 
“I’m sorry.” It was too quiet, not strong enough to convince you. But he didn’t seem to find his voice in the fire of your wrath. 
“Oh, are you now?”
“Yes, I'm sorry.” Why did he keep saying that? Imbécil. (idiot) It clearly didn’t make things better. 
You shook your head with a huff. “You know what? I’m done with you - with this. You’ve done nothing but made my life miserable.” His eyes cast downward in guilt. He knew that. And he was punishing himself enough already. “And now you come here and think it’s all forgotten with a fucking apology.”
You were right. So right. But Miguel could bring his mouth to open up. It was as if he was cast under your spell. The dreading anger rolling off of you paralyzed him with shame. 
“What I need is respect. Trust. Your having my back.” You smacked your hands against his chest with every word. And Miguel let you. He could have easily withstood, but he deserved to be pushed around. What an absolute asshole he was.
“But you’re not willing to give it to me... to trust me. And the worst part is that I still like you!” 
He wanted to tell you. Show you that he knew he deserved all your rage, but he did not want to interrupt you. Even though his heart– wait a minute. Did you just say you liked him?! 
¡Mierda! (holy shit)
Miguel just stared at you as you kept on punching him, the words you just said seemed to get swallowed in your rage. But he’d heard them. Loud and clear. 
You liked him. Miguel's heart was hammering in his ears, so loud it almost drowned you out. It was as if he had forgotten the situation he was in when his lips twitched upwards and the words just tumbled over them.
“You like me?”
You stopped, looked at him with wide eyes, and then sighed. “Just go please.”
The beating slowed when you turned away again. Miguel tried to call out your name - pull you back. But when he did, he saw the tears falling from your eyes. 
“Please let me explain–“
“What's there to explain? You don’t think I'm capable. Okay fine. I tried to prove you wrong but it’s not getting through your stupid thick head.” Your tears fell relentlessly as the anger covered your features once more. And, again, Miguel just stood dumbfounded and helpless. All he wanted was for you to accept a do-over, to at least settle on neutral ground again. But you were throwing truths at him that hurt more than anything he’s ever endured. It just reminded him how inconsiderate he was. And that there were probably a lot more people that didn't like him. But Miguel didn’t care about those. You were the one important thing. The person he needed around, and safe. And he had messed it up. 
“I don’t know what kind of problem you have with me, why you can’t seem to show me a little human decency, but I’m–“
He didn’t know what came over him when he reached forwards and pulled you into a kiss. The panic had just risen to his head with all the overthinking and screaming. And he knew it wasn’t right to shut you up, but he had tried to think of a way to say what he had wanted to say. But he had come up empty, and the feeling of your lips on his felt a little too good to stop. 
You even kissed him back. He could feel your shoulders relaxing a little - even imagined feeling you tug your arms towards his neck, but before he could register, you had pulled out of his grasp again. 
“What the fuck?!”
“I’m bad at coping mechanisms,” he confessed blushing as you looked up at hun confused and staggered. “I didn’t know how to ignore my feelings for you so I went with the safest option... making you hate me.”
You frowned but at least you let him talk, so Miguel just continued. Whatever the outcome now, he had to get it off his chest. “I wasn’t ready for you. But I can’t hold it any longer it's tearing me apart... hurting you - that was never my intention. I just wanted to make it easier for me.”
“So you made me doubt myself for you to feel better. That’s – wow – not a red flag at all.” You crossed your arms. Though Miguel saw that you wanted him to continue. 
“I am sorry - verdaderamente. (truly) I know it’s not done with these words alone, but I promise to make it up to you... if you'll let me.”
His chest was heaving with nerves when he finished his little speech. And Miguel swore to have seen your eyes soften as you realized how sincere he was. He closed his eyes in the silence overtaking you both and shot a player to the sky. There was only one thing he was wishing for.
“How can I trust you won’t mess up again,” your voice piqued up and his eyes fell back to you. 
“Because it’s tearing me to pieces to see you like this. I know now that it is I who brings misery into everyone's life. For years I thought it was tough luck, but I realize I have fate in my own hands.” He carefully stepped forwards and took your hands in his, squeezing them lightly. He wouldn’t take this for granted. “So, please... let me show you. Give me a chance to change things. Give us a chance.”
You bit your lip debating. Miguel knew the uncertainty you must have felt, the anger and frustration of his ignorance. He would understand if you said no. Shit, he deserved it for all he knew. He wouldn’t stop you, but he would be miserable. 
Miguel squeezed your hands once more, pulling them to his chest to have you feel his heart vibrating in his chest. Por favor. (please)
And then you nodded with a small smile falling on your lips and his heart began to sing. Miguel smiled, pressing a kiss to your knuckles as a happy tear rolled down his face. 
To hell with tough luck - he was the master of his fate. 
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992 notes · View notes
xasafi · 2 months
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First of all...
Hell yeah! TSC will have two books (and most likely two POVs - Jean's obviously, and it seems like Jeremy's POV is also confirmed!) YES!
Now, onto the... other stuff Nora posted.
"TSC1 has made me sadder than all 3 books of aftg" Ouch. How am I supposed to survive this?!
"but he needs to be an autumn baby, fall is for dying things" Yo, what the fuck Nora? WHAT. THE. FUCK.
It seems like TSC will indeed explore the relationship between Neil and Jean and I couldn't be happier! This is all I wanted (well, this and Jerejean but we all know which one was more likely to happen...)
Also, Jeaneil had been making-out in the Nest in previous drafts before Nora realized Neil is ace? Wow. Okay, okay. I'm fine.
Spicy scenes in TSC2? Um. I have mixed feelings about this, tbh.
"if yall were genuinely sane you wouldn't have liked aftg yes???" Well, yes. That is correct.
We got a short description of Andreil from Jean's POV?! Dreams do come true, thank you Nora.
Andrew is the older twin apparently. I kinda liked the idea that Aaron was the older one but honestly, it fits.
In most drafts Neil kissed Andrew first? Oh, wow. This is interesting.
Nora said once again that to her Andreil are versatile in bed. Yes, yes. We love to see it.
Andrew's future without Neil would have been "empty & meaningless". Oh god... I'm so glad they found each other and were able to stay together because holy fuck.
Neil would totally buy all the Fox merchandise. Yup, that's our #1 Foxes fan.
Andreil learning Russian or ASL together? My heart.
Nora claims that she would only do small changes in extra content... Does this mean no Jerejean? :(
Andrew used to hook-up with Renee after sparring in previous drafts before Nora made him gay?! WTF. Nope, I'm not even gonna acknowledge that. I didn't see it, this is not true, nope. NOPE.
"one day ppl will learn to stop asking me questions" I'm afraid we won't, even if we don't always like the answers.
Soo...
Can the spring come faster?
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vox-ex · 5 months
Text
art
Supercorptober 2023
"what does it all come down to? love? Love" ee cummings
or
sometimes it just takes something simple to explain something complex
----
The doorbell rang just as Kara was sweeping the last few crayons from the table into a small plastic container.
"Coming!" she called out.
As she opened the door, she realized not only was Alex there to pick up Esme but that Lena must have gotten off of work early as well.
"Hey," Lena greeted as they stepped inside together. "How was babysitting Esme?"
"Chaos, as always," Kara grinned, closing the door behind her friend. "But we had fun."
"Mamma!" As if on cue, Esme ran in from the bathroom where she had been washing her hands.
'Hey, kiddo," Alex knelt in front of her, smoothing back a stray hair from her face.
"Were you good for Aunt Kara?"
"Yup!" Esme nodded enthusiastically.
"We colored! And I learned new words."
"New words, huh?" Alex arched an eyebrow at her sister and Lena.
"I hope they're not the kind of new words you learn from your Godmother?"
She looked even more pointedly at Lena with a smile.
"Please, you just like to blame me for the ones she's already picked up from you."
"And that is one of the reasons I love you."
Alex walked over to grab Esme's coat from the chair and picked up one of the drawings off the table, unable to stop the laughter that came out when she saw what she must have just finished working on.
"Do you not like it." Esme looked up at her concerned coming up behind her.
Alex ruffled Esme's hair.
"Not at all. It's perfect kid. You did a wonderful job."
Alex picked up the drawing and walked past a confused Kara before taking a magnet and hanging the drawing right in the middle of the refrigerator before looking back at her sister.
"You might want to be careful what Kryptonian words you teach your Niece."
Kara didn't miss the idiots Alex whispered under her breath as she walked towards the door.
Esme apparently didn't either.
"Mommy says you're not supposed to call people that."
Alex chuckled as she gently helped her put her arms in her coat.
"And you're Mommy is absolutely correct."
Zipping it up with only minor difficulty.
"Now come on you... let's get some Pizza to bring home for dinner and not tell her I said it."
"Deal!"
Esme turned and waved goodbye, all of a sudden in a hurry with the now-promised prospect of Pizza.
"Bye Aunt Kara. Bye Aunt Lena!"
Alex reached to close the door behind them, but not before silently mouthing the word "idiots" one more time.
As the door shut, both Kara and Lena looked towards the refrigerator, and after a second, both lunged forward, but only one of them wound up with it in their hands.
"Ah-ah, too slow," Lena teased, plucking the drawing from Kara's grasp.
She held it up, studying the image like she would one of her blueprints.
Three simple figures were all holding hands, all drawn out in cheerful lines of different colors. Lena recognized herself, Kara, and Esme instantly.
"Looks like quite the artwork," Lena remarked, amusement dancing in her eyes. But then her focus shifted to the symbols etched next to each figure, and the letters next to them. They were elegant, even in chunky crayon. She had seen at least one of them before.
Kara bit her lip, the earlier playfulness giving way to vulnerability.
She watched as Lena's fingers traced the outline of the figure that was herself, then the smaller one next to it, running back and forth over where the hands were linked before hovering over the word 'ukiem' squeezed in between.
"Ukiem," she murmured, the syllables rolling off her tongue with unexpected ease as she glanced at Kara.
Kara fiddled with some of the other drawings still on the table, the papers rustling softly with each shuffle.
The room seemed to shrink.
"I must admit," Lena began, her voice steady despite the sudden tightness in her chest, "I am not always as well-versed in Kryptonian as I would like to be."
Kara shifted her weight from one foot to the other.
"But I know this one." She tapped the word gently. "Love right?"
"Esme and I were talking about family," Kara cleared her throat.
"About the words we use for family," she began, hesitant yet determined.
"About how we can tell them we love them."
"Family, huh?" Lena's voice held an air of curiosity, her gaze fixed on the colorful drawing again.
"Y-yeah," Kara stammered, her heart pounding in her ears.
"I don't know this one?" Lena confessed, her voice trembling ever so slightly as her fingertip pointed at the word on the page, Zhao, written between her and the other figure on the page. Smiling at the way Esme drew Kara's glasses just a little crooked.
"Zhao?" Lena ventured quietly, placing the word as carefully as she could on her tongue.
"Zhao." Kara smiled, echoed the words back with a quiet certainty.
She swallowed hard. "Not all love is the same in Kryptonese."
"So, family?" Lena pointed again to the words between her and Esme and then those between her and Kara. "And?"
Kara hesitated..."Something more."
"Is that what we are then?" Lena's eyes flickered with their own vulnerability now. "Something more?"
"I'd like it if we were," Kara conceded, taking a deep breath.
Lena's eyes softened, and a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips.
"I think I'd like that too."
----
read and follow along on Ao3 too
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cocklessboy · 1 month
Text
So here's the thing about having a post break containment on tumblr: if you make a mistake in the original post, there's absolutely fucking nothing you can do about it.
The people reblogging once you realize your mistake aren't reblogging it from your blog. They're reblogging it from someone you never even knew existed. If you edit the original, it does not affect the copies already being passed around.
You can make an addition to the post with a correction! But here's the thing. Posts tend to break containment if they are tagged and people see it in the tags they follow. But reblogs don't appear in tags. Only original posts do. So your addition will only be reblogged by people who follow you, and it's pretty rare for a post with a correction added in a reblog to break containment in the same way as the original.
So you wind up getting a lot of reblogs with angry comments about how you're wrong (and that's if they're being polite - the less polite ones will attack you rather viciously, which is not something I would wish on anyone). And even if you didn't make a mistake, if there's something you didn't make clear enough for Tumblr Reading Comprehension™️, you'll wind up inundated with angry comments from people who missed the point, and it's too late to go back and adjust your wording to make it clearer.
(That's why I'm making a new post for this instead of responding to the comments I got on the post in question, by the way. I'm hoping some of the same people who spread around the original might spot this one in the tags and share it around as well.)
So what is this about? I recently made a post about how a friend was worried that I was addicted to my ADHD meds purely because I said I look forward to taking them and they bring me joy.
The purpose of that post was:
Something bringing you joy doesn't necessarily make it addictive. (For fuck's sake stop being afraid of pleasure.)
Even if something is addictive, that's not inherently harmful.
Don't be afraid to take your meds just because they might be addictive. If they help you more than they harm you, take them.
I also made a comment about how my ADHD meds aren't addictive anyway. This is the point people have been pouncing on me about. So allow me to explain where that assertion came from.
My psychiatrist, an ADHD specialist who manages my meds: I know you're nervous about addiction and tolerance to meds, but don't worry. If you have ADHD, methylphenidate is not physically addictive.
My GP, who I got a second opinion from out of nervousness: Yup, your psychiatrist is right. You don't need to be afraid to take these. Take them as directed and you will not form a physical dependence on them. If you notice them getting less effective with time, though, you can always just take a break from them to remove any tolerance.
Me, after a year and a half of taking these meds: Yup, no addiction here. I guess my doctors were right.
So here we are. Two doctors and my own personal experience have assured me that ADHD meds are not something to be afraid of. Yet I keep seeing people afraid to take their meds because they're afraid of dependence. So why don't I do a nice thing in this post of mine and reassure my fellow gremlin-brained tumblrs that their meds are perfectly safe to take!
And to be fair, I've gotten quite a few reblogs with tags and additions and comments saying thank you, I was afraid to take my meds, even though they help me, but now I'm reassured that I shouldn't be scared.
And I think that's a positive outcome.
On the other hand, I'm getting some very angry comments from some people who seem to think I'm attempting to spread a vicious, intentional lie claiming that people with ADHD are immune to stimulant addiction and that I'm going to do all kinds of harm, presumably on purpose, because there's nothing I enjoy more than ruining other people's lives! 🙌
I would assume that anyone who thought about this for more than three seconds would realize that's not the case, but this is tumblr.
I've gotten angry rants ranging from "this author you've never heard of wrote a book where he defined addiction as inherently harmful, and therefore you're harming people by saying being addicted to something is not inherently bad!" to "STOP SPREADING MISINFORMATION!!!" to "OP is making statements that are incompatible with reality!" and folks? I'm real fucking tired of it.
Is it possible that my doctors are wrong? Of course! Doctors get things wrong all the time, especially when it comes to stuff like ADHD! But yelling at me from across the internet and accusing me of lying is not helpful.
There is nothing I can do about the original post. I can reblog it with an addition clarifying that yes, everyone is capable of becoming psychologically dependent on basically anything in a way that would be considered addiction, and yes, that includes ADHD people and their meds.
To be clear, this does NOT contradict the intent of my original post: that ADHD meds are good, you should take them, medication making you feel good is nothing to fear, pleasure is not the same as addiction, addiction is not inherently dangerous, and according to my doctors, who are fallible human beings but my most trusted source of information as of the writing of that post, ADHD meds are not physically addictive - as in, your BODY will not become dependent on them to function. This is the definition of "addiction" I had in mind when I wrote that post - and I think in a lot of cases the thing upsetting people is that we don't even actually disagree on what we're trying to say, but there was a miscommunication in terms of what I actually meant.
If I could go back and edit that original post and have it change everywhere it's been reblogged, I absolutely would. I would clarify where my information was coming from and what definition of "addiction" I intended, and reiterate that even if something can cause physical dependence, that doesn't necessarily mean you shouldn't take it.
But I can't. That post is out there now and there's not a damn thing I can do about it.
Keep this in mind as you go forward in your tumblr journey, friends. If you come across a semi-popular post with a mistake in it, you can bet every bit of your ass that OP has heard about it many, many times already, probably in very impolite terms, and there is nothing they can do about the original post. Unless they're a massively popular blog, a reblog with an addition or correction will not be seen by the people spreading around the original.
And for fuck's sake, stop assuming ill intent on the part of people who say something incorrect online. There are people out there who intentionally spread misinformation, but those people are rare, and usually trying to get you to not vote democrat in US elections, not trying to encourage you to take your fucking meds. If you see a mistake, it's probably an honest one, and if you really want to correct it, be a decent fucking human being, be polite and kind, and try assuming good intentions on the part of the person who said it.
The person telling you to take your meds is not your fucking enemy.
Oh, and do me a favor and reblog this, please. I actually have very few followers so no one will see it if it doesn't get reblogged. Thank you.
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thanksbutno98 · 10 months
Text
Cake
Tumblr media
John Price x fem!reader
Warning: domestic fluff, talk of children, pregnancy, not edited
Summary: A normal night in the Price home turns stressful when your son becomes sick.
—————-
“You, alright over there?” You could hear the smile on John’s face and could see out of the corner of your eye he was leaning against the bedroom doorframe.
You were sat in the center of your king sized bed, comforter bunched around your legs and bottom lip fixed in a pout. Jj was was sprawled out, head resting on your shin. He was dressed in his matching blue pajama set that had little fluffy sheep decorating it. Jj’s little tummy was poking out as he sighed loudly and rubbed his belly with his unoccupied hand, the other was gripping your big toe tightly. He was trying his best to keep his eyes open but failing. Ignoring Johns words you turned up the volume on the tv as a non verbal protest.
“Ah, so you’re going to pretend I don’t exist?” His tone was getting more playful.
You could sense him coming closers eventually making his way to the foot of the bed. Now blocking your view from the tv. John was dressed in a fitted army green t-shirt that was neatly tucked into his camouflage pants. He raised his eyebrows, trying to hide his smirk.
“Well?” He asked.
“I’m annoyed with you.” You respond with a bratty tone.
“Really? I couldn’t tell.” John couldn’t help how he laughed out the words. You were being utterly ridiculous and it was so endearing to him. You were so sweet to him most of the time that it was sort of cute when you got miffed at him like this.
“All I wanted was your moms pound cake and she made it special for me. I don’t think its ridiculous to ask you to pick it up.” You couldn’t help but pout again. You called Mary this morning and asked if there was any way she would bake it for you. She was more than happy to do so but you or John had to go pick it up. You woke up craving it and nothing else would do until you got a slice of that cake, but John didn’t seem to understand that.
“They live 45 minutes away.” John reminded you.
“That’s not too far.” You whined pouting bigger at your husband.
“So, let me get this straight?” His shoulders rolled back as he stood to his full height. Jj stuck his arms out doing the grabbing motion a soft ‘dada’ muffled by the pacifier interrupting you two for only a moment. John picked him up without a second thought, placing a loving kiss on his forehead.
“He’s tired early.” John changed the subject quickly. A little taken aback by the tired boy in his arms. He was usually a bundle of energy until it was bed time which wasn’t for another hour.
“Yeah he skipped his nap and wasn’t to interested in dinner either.” You looked at your son with tired eyes. This happened every so often, where Jj would have sleep regression and start fighting you on food. The doctor said it was normal so you trusted that.
“That regression stuff again. Anyway back to what I was saying.” John shook his head slightly getting his train of through back on track.
“Yup.” You smiled hopefully.
“You forgot to tell me I needed to pick up the cake when I was leaving this morning. So I came home to you upset at me for not picking up something I didn’t know about?” John looked at you skeptically.
“No, I’m upset that you won’t go back out and pick it up for me.” You corrected.
“And why would I do that?” He asked a hint of sarcasm in his words.
“Because I’m three months pregnant and we finally told people so now I can ask for my cravings without being asked if I’m expecting.” You batted your eye lashes at your husband. Giving him the biggest doe eyes you could muster.
“Takes an hour and a half out of my night to go pick up cake that we can get tomorrow when we go over there.” John stated but it sounded like a question. You knew you had plans to go there tomorrow for your nieces birthday but you just could not wait that long.
“And?” You asked.
“You can’t wait?” John was staring at you in disbelief as he rubbed the back of your snoring son.
“No.” You said matter of factly. Holding eye contact, it took about ten second before your husband responded.
“Do you need anything else while I’m out?” John started to walk toward the door so he could put Jj down.
“So you’ll go!?” Your eyes lit up like a Christmas tree making John’s day.
“Yeah, but I’m not going out again.” He warned, leaving the room.
“Of course! Could you also get- wait I’ll just text you a list.” You called out but your words died off at the end. John turned back poking his head into the room.
“A list? How much stuff do you need?” John eyebrows knit together. You just went from cute to slightly annoying in seconds.
“Just a few things.” You smiled brightly at him, giving him a cheeky little wink. With your phone in your hands you typed away quickly. John’s nose scrunched as he tried not to get swept up in your sweetness again. His annoyance quickly fading. That was until he got into the car and saw your 12 item list that called for three separate stops.
“I love her. I love her.” John whispered to himself in the darkness of the car as a reminder. Trying his best to not get frustrated. He was trying to make up for his short comings when you were pregnant with Jj. If you weren’t so kind hearted it would be easier to say ‘no’ to you in moments like this.
—————-
“You took two bites and you’re done?” John was staring at you from across the kitchen island, jaw slack in confusion. The lights were dim as you sat for your late night snack.
“Don’t food shame me John.” You muttered. Wrapping the foil back over the cake to put it away.
“I will! Just drove two bloody hours for that cake and you’ve eaten none of it.” John felt a little crazy arguing over dessert but man you had gotten under his skin.
“I had some!” You said defensively. Pulling the foil back you pointed at the corner of the pan where two spoonfuls had been eaten. It looked like a mouse took a nibble and decided against it.
“You’re joking?” He asked annoyance evident on his face. He honestly thought you might be kidding. Saying it was a little joke and then you’d have a proper slice of cake.
“You’re hurting my feelings.” You warned, holding eye contact as you both tried your hardest to not start and argument with the other.
“I’m annoyed.” John stated. Eyes narrowed and lips fixed in a firm line. His fingers drummed rhythmically on the counter as he tried to calm his boiling blood.
“Would some cake help?” You slid the pan towards him. A sheepish look on your face as you noticed how irritated he was getting. You tried to smile sweetly at your husband but he only returned your look with a mean one.
“I’m going to eat the whole bloody thing.” The words came out threatening as John snatched the cake tin.
“Well, you have to save me a little.” You said exasperated at his threat of retaliation.
“Yeah I’ll save this much.” John pointed at the tiny corner missing.
“And you said I was being sensitive yesterday.” You teased, watching a fire ignite behind John’s blue eyes as he dug a huge spoon full of the dessert out and ate it angrily. Getting up from your seat you began to make your way to bed.
“Im eating this whole thing.” John warned again, as you disappeared around the corner.
“You’ll give yourself a stomach ache if you do that.” You called back.
—————-
“Love?” John appeared in your bedroom doorway, an upset look on his face.
“You okay, darling?” You asked. Looking up from your book. He looked pained and sickly, like he might hurl at any moment.
“My stomachs killing me.” He said walking into the room.
“You didn’t?” You questioned eyes going wide and mouth hanging open.
“My pride got the better of me.” John groaned, pressing his knees into the side of the bed his stomach rumbling loudly.
“Oh my god. You so deserve this.” You couldn’t help the fit of giggles you fell into.
“Oi, don’t laugh at me. I’m in actual pain.” John complained. He pressed his palms into the mattress hoping a new angle might help his overfull stomach. It was hysterical to you. He fell off a two story roof his last deployment and limped around saying he was fine. He’d get angry if you even looked at him with concern saying he didn’t need to be babied. Who knew a stomach ache was what would take down the hulking 6’2 Brit.
“John you just ate an entire pound cake out of spite.” You were still laughing unable to wrap your head around your husbands choice in retaliation.
“I couldn’t finish all of it.” He snapped. He kept changing position and moving around awkwardly trying to find some relief.
“Do you feel better?” You asked sarcastically.
“No.” John said his words with a bit of a pout.
“Well I hope you’ve learned your lesson.” You got out of bed and made your way to the bathroom, ushering for John to follow behind. Rummaging through the medicine cabinets you found him some antacids. He took them eagerly and laid next to you in bed groaning every few minutes in discomfort until he was snoring loudly.
—————
The sound of your sons cries woke you up. It joined the chorus of John’s obnoxiously loud snoring and the dripping foster in the bathroom. You were groggy as you reached around to turn the alarm clock in your direction. It was a few minutes past 4 AM which was unusual for Jj. Sitting up you rubbed your eyes your sense coming back slowly. That’s when you picked up on the pain riddled wails. That was not his normal cry.
Your body went into action before your mind was even certain something was wrong. You could just feel it in your bones. You were rushing down the hall into the nursery, slipping slightly in your socks against the hard wood. Throwing the door open you rushed to your little boy was was red in the face. His little features were etched in pain as he cried gutturally. When he caught sight of you he screamed louder chanting ‘mama’ over and over.
Picking him up you could feel the heat radiating off him. He had to have a fever you never felt him this warm. You cooed and hushed him as best you could while he thrashed against you. You were already back in your bedroom and heading for the thermometer in the en suite.
“What’s going on?” John’s voice was riddled in sleep. He was dazed and confused to what was going on as he stumbled to his feet. Shirtless and in his boxers he moved sluggishly still feeling sick from the cake.
“Y/N, why’s he up?” John was walking into the bathroom rubbing the sleep form his tired eyes. Taking in the sight of you he snapped out of whatever dreamy haze he was in, going into Captain mode. Jj was screaming ‘dada’ now reaching for your husband desperately. The look on your face said it all. You were petrified, hands shaking as you rummaged through the cabinet looking for something, your son fighting with every fiber of his being for you to hand him over
“Where’s the thermometer?” Your voice cracked.
You couldn’t get yourself to look at your husband as you held your screaming son close to you. John’s firm hands grasped your shoulders moving you to the side. This allowed you to actually comfort Jj fully. The screams of ‘mama’ and ‘dada’ breaking your heart. Tears pricked your eyes as you watched your baby in pain. Your heart felt like it was going to explode if you couldn’t help him feel any form of relief. You got a wash cloth and ran it under cold water. Jj was sucking on it instantly as you pressed the damp towel to his warm face. The calm only lasted for seconds his cries ringing out again.
“Here.” John voice had your heart skip a beat as he held up the thermometer.
“Go sit on the bed. You have to hold him still.” John commanded.
It was a relief to have him so calm while you were freaking out. You were sat on the bed quickly your quiet sobs joining your sons as your held down his strong yet tiny body. Keeping him as still as possible so you could get an accurate temperature felt like torture to you.
“It’s 103.1. We have to go to the hospital, darling.” John was up and moving. Throwing on a pair of jeans and a long sleeve. You were still holding Jj to your chest trying everything to comfort him as you fumbled around in your sock draw.
“Darling look at me.” John was by your side again. Cupping your face in his palms his blue eyes bore into yours.
“Everything’s going to be okay. You have to stay calm for the baby.” John’s words helped your racing heart. Even if it was a little it was still appreciated to have him by your side. His worry far greater than just his sons health but also for yours and your growing baby.
He took Jj from you who immediately rejected him and half threw himself at you. Screaming at the top of his lungs for ‘mama’ as you changed. John ran downstairs and loaded up the car. You were down in a flash not realizing your mismatched shoes as you ran to the open back seat of the car. John slammed the trunk shut and hopped into the front. Once he saw you buckled in the back and leaning over Jj’s car seat he took off towards the hospital. You held back your tears as you sang to your little boy his cries never stopping until that moment. His little eyes fluttered shut as he screamed silently.
“He stopped?” John glanced over his shoulder. Looking through the rear view mirror he saw the horror on your face.
“I don’t know.” You shouted. Hands flying to your little boy as you lightly shook his shoulder. Placing your ear to his chest to make sure he was breathing. Your heart stopped as his screams tore from his lungs again. Your ear ringing from how close you were to the loudest cry you’d ever heard from him.
“What’s going on?” John’s panic was seeping into his voice.
“I don’t know please just hurry John.”
————-
“The flu?” You asked in disbelief.
“How did he get the flu? We’re both fine.” John voice was gravely as he stood next to you. Your sleeping boy cradled protectively in his arms.
“It can happen a number of ways. You’ll need to give him this medicine for the next 48 hours and monitor his temperature. Are you still breast feeding?” The emergency room doctor asked skimming through the papers in his hand.
“Yeah we just started weaning last week.” You said. Face fixed in a frown.
“I suggest you put a pause on that. Jonathan will need as much fluids as you can get into him. I want you to monitor his temperature. If his fever comes back and doesn’t break in 48 hours or if it goes above 102.2 please come back in. I also suggest you make an appointment with his pediatrician as soon as possible.” The young doctor was scribbling some notes down on the chart not giving you his full attention.
“Okay, but he’s going to be okay? Right?” You we’re still panic stricken.
“Yes, he’ll be back to his normal self in a few days Mrs. Price.” The doctors tone was slightly condescending as if you should just know your little boy would be fine. You couldn’t tell if you were over reacting but the look John gave you made you feel as if you weren’t. All you knew was that you had a lot more questions that needed answering before you felt comfortable going home.
“When you said fluids earlier, did you mean just breast milk or-“
“I’m sorry Mrs. Price I have other patients I need to attend to. Call Jonathans pediatrician or you can speak to one of the nurses here.” The ER doctor began to walk to the door to excuse himself.
“Wait no, I don’t want to talk to a nurse. I want to talk to you. You’re the one who examined him.” You were following behind placing your hand on the door as the doctor reached for the handle.
“A nurse can help you. Now excuse me. I have other things-“ his tone was outright rude now causing your husband to step in.
“Oi, you fuckin’ answer her questions.” John’s voice cut through the growing tension as he barked at the doctor. You slightly jumped from the volume.
“Mr. Price, please don’t use profanity. I have-“
“I don’t care if you have a hundred bloody patience waiting for you. You stay and answer all her god damn questions and then you leave.” John had his finger pointed aggressively at the shorter man. It was obvious in that moment nothing was going to stop John from getting the answers you were looking for. It was intimidating to be in his presence when he got like this and you were glad for that in this moment. It kept the doctor in the room.
“Alright, fine. What were you asking?” You could sense the frustration in his voice but you didn’t care.
————
“Have you gotten him to eat any solids?” John’s voice came from the hallway as he walked into the kitchen. You were a mess. Wearing the same leggings for two days now, hair in a messy bun, and stains littering John’s over sized quarter zip your were wearing.
“No, I can’t get him to eat anything besides breast milk. I don’t think I have any left in me and we’re running low on the frozen stuff.” You huffed as you watched Jj swat away the spoon full of bay food you were trying to feed him. Rice was all over the floor and sticking to the bottoms of your socks.
“Can’t you just make more?” John asked a bit confused.
“It doesn’t work like that John. It takes time.” You snapped in your exhausted state.
“I’m sorry. I-“ you apologized only to find yourself lost for words. You placed your head in your hands unable to stop the tears and sobs that left you. It was easy to blame the sudden outburst on the hormones of being pregnant but that wasn’t the reason. Seeing your little boy a shell of himself was breaking your heart and no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t make him feel better.
“It’s okay, darling.” John wrapped his arms around you and kissed the top of you head as you cried into his chest. Your tears were staining the burnt orange flannel shirt he had on.
“It’s your turn for a nap. I’ve got it from here.” John’s voice was soft as he started to lead you towards the door.
“Am I failing as a mother?” You stepped back your question causing a pained expression to wash over your husbands face.
“No, you’re just tired. You’re an amazing mum. Jj is one lucky lad, and Robbie will be just as lucky.” John kissed your forehead, hands firmly on your shoulder as he looked down at you lovingly.
“We are not naming our child after your favorite Liverpool player. And we don’t even know if we’re having a boy or girl yet.” You knew he was using humor to break the tension but it wasn’t helping.
“Robbie can be a girls name.” John reasoned.
“John.” You complained.
“Okay, I’m done teasing. Go lay on the couch we’ll be right behind you.” With a kiss and a firm smack to your bum John ushered you out of the kitchen
“You sure?” You asked still floating around the doorway as you watched your husband begin to clean up the mess.
“Yes, now move. I’ll bring you something to eat too.” John waved his hand for you to go so you did.
By the time John entered the living room you were fast asleep. He threw your favorite blanket over you and dimmed the lights. After lighting a fire in the fireplace he settled next to you while Jj slept on his chest. When you began to stir he rubbed your feet helping you to fall right back asleep. It was a few hours until you woke up. The sight of your husband and son sitting on the floor together the first thing to greet you. Jj’s face was covered in crumbs and he looked happy. He looked like himself for the first time in three days.
“He ate!?” You shot up from your spot almost tripping over the coffee table. Your eyes going wide as you saw the cake pan sitting in front of him.
“That’s so bad for him.” You said it as a whisper not sure if you were actually upset.
“He had to eat something.” John shrugged. The pair of you watching as Jj’s tiny hand dove into the cake pan and squished the spongy dessert between his fat fingers. There was no grace as he smashed the sweet into his face eating it like a ravenous dog.
“Huh, he really is your son.” You commented seeing the similarities of how your son and husband loved sweets.
“Was there a possibility he wasn’t?” John quirked an eyebrow up at you an amused grin on his handsome face.
“I mean that old neighbor of ours was pretty cute.” You winked at John playfully.
“Fuck off. He was like 80.” John snorted at your cheekiness.
“Still cute.” You joked. Finally feeling the weight lift from your shoulders.
“Fuck.” Jj’s high pitched voice rang out.
“Ohhh, fu-“ John face went blank as he stared at his son who was shoving more cake into his mouth.
“No no no no no don’t say that.” You waved your hands in panic as you tried to distract the soon to be toddler.
“Fuck!” Jj yelled it this time. You shot John a dirty look as he burst into his signature laugh. The one that only came out when something truly tickled his sense of humor. His laugh rang so loud you swore it shook the windows.
“John that’s not funny.” You scolded. Turning to your little one and repeating ‘cake’ over and over to hopefully get him to say that instead. John was still laughing, tears welling in his eyes as he rolled on his back.
“It’s a little funny. Better than being sick?” John fell into a coughing fit from laughing so hard. It sounded like he was hacking up a lung.
“Fine, I’ll give you that. It’s better than him being sick.”
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maarriiii · 1 year
Text
Creep | Jason Todd
A/N: rip to this post and all the notes but thank god I still have the copy
Summary: Some guy keep following you but Jason’s there to help you
Pairing(s): Jason Todd x female!reader (she/her pronouns)
Warning(s): Suggestive content at the end
my masterlist :))
~~
"Quick, pretend like you're talking to me." Jason was forcefully turned around by y/n who kept looking over her shoulder like she's being followed. She was agitated and worried, but also donned a scowl that showed her clear annoyance. Jason tried to look for someone suspicious in the sea of guests, but no one stood out in his eyes.
"Why? Is someone following you? Are you okay? Do I need to grab my guns?" He asked, determination in his eyes.
If it was in any other situation, y/n would've smiled and rolled her eyes at his protectiveness but this guy had been trailing behind her since the start of Bruce's charity gala and it's getting on her nerves. The only reason why she hasn't kicked him in the balls yet was because she didn't want to make a scene, especially since last time.
"This guy just can't take a goddamn hint. He keeps following me and I'm tired of hiding just for him to find me again. This is my first night out since god knows how long and this creep is ruining it." y/n grabbed Jason's glass of whiskey and proceed to downed it one go, ignoring the dirty looks thrown her way.
"Why haven't you deck him yet?" Jason casually asked, ordering another glasses of alcohol.
"You think I haven't thought of that?" She whisper-yelled. "The only reason why I'm being "civil" right now is for Bruce's sake. Also, I've had enough of Alfred's disapproving looks to last me a lifetime."
Jason smiled, founding it amusing how y/n is handling her current dilemma. He was about to say that he'll offer to get rid of the creep when someone with eager eyes and even more eager steps started walking towards y/n and himself.
"Don't turn around, but I think your fan is making a move." He stated. "Does he have brown hair, blue eyes, and an extremely punchable face?"
y/n sighed and nodded. "Yup. That's him. So, you have any idea to get rid of this guy?"
Jason assessed the situation and if he's correct—which he usually was—then creeper over there would reach their location in about eight seconds. So, he needed to think and act fast. He could asked y/n to go and find someplace to hide, more preferably his old bedroom in the manor, but y/n had tried the same method and she made a good point about how he could just find her again. He could just go marched right towards him and tell him to back the hell off, but that would cause a scene that would probably get y/n and Bruce angry at him. Another one of Jason's plan was to threatened the guy passive-aggressively into cowering and leaving, but where would be the fun in that. With three methods out of the way and four seconds left on the clock, Jason had one final idea. Though, he haven't figured out how y/n would reacted.
"Alright, I have an idea. It might work, but I need you to promise me that you won't get mad," Jason explained.
"Okay. What is it?"
"You promise right?"
"Oh my God, yes, I promise. Now, tell me."
Without a word, Jason pulled y/n by the waist, leaving no space empty between the two vigilantes. y/n let out an oof sound when their chest collided while Jason slowly leaned in, their lips brushing but his eyes watching the scowl painted on the creeper's face.
"I think it's working," Jason whispered.
y/n gulped, her hands tightened slightly at Jason's suit collar. "Is it?"
"Yup. He's stomping away like an angry toddler."
"That's good," y/n answered dazedly.
Jason smirked, noticing how her eyes were closed. "You okay, princess? You seem a little flushed there."
"I...I'm fine. I just—" she paused, thinking for a moment "—are you wearing that cologne I got you for your birthday?"
"I am." He lowered his hands to her hips. "Do you like it?"
y/n nodded, her arms making their way around his neck. "I do."
Wordlessly, y/n kissed Jason with a vigor that he wasn't expecting, but welcomed either way. The two were in their very own bubble, oblivious to the fact that many people were staring and whispering about their steamy interaction. Their kiss was passionate and full of desire that made neither of them ever want to let go. It was only when the need of air became urgent that y/n had to let go with Jason's lips chasing after her own.
"That was long overdue, wasn't it?" She smiled, forehead leaning against Jason's.
"Yes, it is. So, what do you say we go back to my place and make up for lost time?" He suggested, trailing kisses to her jaw.
y/n kissed him again and pulled away. "I like the way you think, Jaybird."
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doramikey · 1 month
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Her Choice || L&DS, Rafayel ver.
Plot: Someone may have her attention, but he will always have her heart.
Format: one shot (possible two shot?)
Genre: fluff, (minor) drama, hint of romance
Pairing: Rafayel x F!Reader
Warning/Disclaimer: situational, potential ooc-ness, implied cheating but not really, minor violence
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I never understood what it was like seeing someone, in a romantic sense to be specific. I was content being single, hanging out with my close friends. But for some reason when my sister noticed I wasn’t seeing someone at my age, she made it her mission to get me a boyfriend. At first, I humored her and went on a couple of blind dates but I just couldn’t click with any of the guys she introduced me to. They seemed nice at first, until the majority of them were persistent to get into a relationship after the first date.
I tried telling my sister this but she brushed it off, saying that she could find someone better. With this, I complained to my closest friend that I’ve known for years now.
“You’d think after the third guy, she would take the hint I wasn’t interested anymore.”
“Why did you decide to humor her in the first place? This could’ve been avoided if you just said no.”
“Rafayel, I tried, I really did.”
He rolled his eyes, sighing while shaking his head. “Were the guys even to your tastes? She should know that at least.”
“I don’t think I ever told her what my type was, she went off of my personality I guess.” I told him, now wondering why she never asked about what type of guys I liked. “Maybe she thought they would click well with me.”
“What is your type then?” Rafayel asked, leaning a little closer with an eyebrow raised.
My cheeks flushed with warmth and I avoided his gaze, laughing nervously from how close he was. “I-I actually don’t know. I only ever had one crush in my entire life.”
“And who was that?” He prodded, furrowing his brows and pursing his lips together.
“He was someone I met in college. We shared a class together and would run into each other coincidentally during lunch.” I said, recalling my college days. “Though it was a small crush, he had a girlfriend at the time so I didn’t push anything other than friends. I think I still have his number but it’s been a while, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he doesn’t remember or deleted mine.” There was a long silence between us but I thought nothing of it, probably assuming he was processing my words or something. “It would be a miracle if we ran into each other someday.”
And I just had to open my mouth to say that because the very next day, my sister begged me to give this one guy she found a chance. I had half a mind to reject her but she promised after this blind date, she’ll leave me alone- clearly she finally saw I wasn’t interested in dating at all.
The plot twist? It ended up being the guy who I had a crush on in college.
He and I stared at each other in surprise before recovering from the shock. I didn’t know whether to say ‘good to see you again’ or not, but then the thought hit me- does this mean he broke up with his girlfriend?
What the hell am I saying- of course he did otherwise why would he be going on blind dates.
We sat across from each other at the cafe my sister set us up to meet. There was a small awkward silence before he cleared his throat and I snapped my eyes up to meet his. “To think we would meet each other again, how long has it been?”
“Well over a year, haha.” I replied, quite surprised yet happy he remembered me. Although I’ll refrain from asking about his now ex-girlfriend, its up to him if he wanted to disclose it or not. “How’ve you been? I stopped attending the following semester, school is just not for me. But I ended up getting an apprenticeship under a well-known artist!”
His brows shot up in surprise. “Wow, you’re just one step closer to your dream! I remember you loved drawing and were an art major, correct?”
I nodded my head. “Yup!” We talked for more than an hour, catching up on the lost time since we last saw each other and it felt like the good ol’ college days all over again. By the end of our blind date, the sun was going down and we parted ways. He offered to drive me home but I shook my head, saying I was staying at a friend’s house nearby. We exchanged numbers, but to my surprise he kept his old one, so we didn’t need an update either way.
As I stepped through the door, Rafayel bounced up to me and leaned in close, making me gasp in surprise before pushing his face away with one hand. “The heck was that for-”
“Tell me everything.” He said, pushing his face against my hand to lean back into my face. “Everything.” After recapping what happened, his expression turned sour and his lips pursed into a pout. “So now I have to share you with another guy?”
I snorted, not phased by his little tantrum. “It’s not official yet! Plus…” I trailed off, feeling my smile drop. “While it was nice to see him again, the feelings I had for him are long gone.”
“So does this mean…?”
“I don’t object to being friends, though. I’ll keep meeting up with him to rebuild the friendship we once had.” I continued, watching the way his expression turned sour again. Reaching out, I playfully pinched his cheek with my other hand. “Relax, I’ll still have the time to hang out with you.”
Or so I thought- but don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t on purpose.
The next time I met up with Chris, Rafayel dropped me off and of course, they saw each other. They had a stare off and I didn’t know if it was a good idea for them to have met at the time. It was like a switch went off between the two of them; Chris started being a little more affectionate than a friend which ticked Rafayel off, and in response my best friend would demand more sleepovers at his place.
He had asked to meet up one day, but I couldn’t because I already promised Rafayel I would attend an art exhibition with him for his art pieces. I didn’t get a reply, which I assumed he understood, but when Rafayel and I arrived outside the venue, I was shocked to see him there with a bouquet of flowers.
Chris approached me and stretched out the bouquet for me to take, but I continued to look at him in shock, wondering why he was here. “Chris, I’m flattered but what are you doing here?”
Looking me in the eye, he leaned down to my height with a serious expression. “The reason I wanted to meet up with you today is because…” His cheeks flushed a faint pink and all of a sudden he appeared shy. “I wanted to ask you to be my girlfriend.”
There was a long, long period of silence between the three of us and luckily it was only us. If the press were here, it would cause a big scandal or something and that is the last thing I wanted- especially for Rafayel.
Then a scoff and amused chuckle came from the artist himself, covering his mouth with one hand. I can just imagine the grin behind it. “How bold of you to proclaim your puppy love in front of my date tonight.”
Heat bloomed in my cheeks at the word ‘date’, but it's not like I’m in a committed relationship with either of them…so it's technically not like I’m two-timing, right?
“Date?” Chris looked at me in distraught. “But I thought we had something going on?”
I furrowed my brows in confusion. “We had nothing going on, Chris.”
His expression turned angry. “So you were leading me on this entire time?!” I flinched from the loudness of his voice, moving closer to Rafayel who pulled me behind him. “I took time out of my day to be with you and suddenly you’re moving onto another man you claim to be your best friend? Why couldn’t you just tell me-”
“Why are you making it sound like I’m cheating with you? We’re not even together! We were literally on the talking stage!” I screamed at him while watching my voice so as to not attract attention.
However my words went completely over his head and instead his next words made my blood run cold. “You need to choose, me or him?” He jabbed a finger at Rafayel, causing anger to flare within me. “It has to be me, right? Of course you’d choose me, I met you first I bet.”
“Oh really, did she?” Rafayel’s icey voice pierced the air. He had me completely stand behind him, so I couldn’t see the expression on his face. “I met her way before she went to the college you met her in, I paid for her tuition, I paid for the dress she’s wearing right now. What have you given her?”
“Tsk. This is useless, have fun riding off of him.” Christ said, which stung, not gonna lie.
“Hey.” Rafayel stepped forward, before reeling his other hand and thrusting it forward to come into contact with Chris’s face. “Talk to her like that again, I will end whatever career you have. Mark my words.”
That was the last time I saw Chris, as he stumbled away pathetically holding his bruised cheek. Now it was just Rafayel and I. He spun around, his usual cheery smile on his face as he gave me his hand to take. “Shall we go, my lady?”
Giggling to myself, I gently placed my hands in his as he moved it to lace our fingers together, then tugged me in the direction to the building. Checking the time on his watch, we were a couple of minutes late. But I wasn’t gonna let this one mishap get in the way of enjoying my night with him. After all, he was right about one thing.
I’d always choose him.
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jellyjays · 1 year
Text
come away, oh ghostly child... (pt 4)
(PT 3 <-) (-> AO3)
Tim strolled down the street towards Dick's apartment. The coffee in his hand was already almost gone, and he was feeling like a sack of shit. He felt like Tom in the one episode of Tom and Jerry where the cat tried and failed at several methods of keeping his eyes open.
He needed Dick to look over his reports for WE, he wasn't entirely confident that he hadn't missed anything.
Pulling out his phone with the hand not clutching coffee like a lifeline, he dialed Dick's home phone for the apartment Babs had said he was staying in while he visited Gotham. After a few rings, Dick picked up.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Dick, it's Tim. I'm headed over to your place, I need to run some WE stuff by you."
"Ooh- this might not be the best time, Tim. I've got a kid with me right now, and he's got a lot of energy."
"I can pick up some stuff for the kid to entertain him for a bit if that helps? I really need your help, nobody else is free right now."
Dick sighs on the other end of the line.
"Alright, that works. Could you pick up some groceries while you're at it? I used up the last of my non-cereal food feeding him this morning. Just the basics- eggs, milk, bread, fruit, etcetera. I'll pay you back."
"Yeah, I can do that. I'll call when I'm done and on my way to yours."
"Thanks a million, Tim. I'll see you later."
With that, there's a click as the line is cut. Tim sighs.
-
Tim stares at the milk cooler in the grocery store. Which kind of milk is best again?
A text conversation with Alfred tells him whole milk is the correct option, so he grabs a gallon.
They're set in the cart next to the other groceries- honey wheat bread, a carton of eggs, and containers of basic fruit. A collection of toys sit in the cart as well- an inflated ball, two dolls- a barbie and a Batman toy- with their accessories, three different stuffed animals, and a book (he has no idea what the kid would like, so he's playing it safe).
He moves out of the milk aisle and towards the checkout. Along the way, he grabs some snacks- fruit snacks, animal crackers, and crackers.
When he reaches the checkout, he pays with Bruce's card- no need to infringe on Dick's savings by making him pay Tim back.
(Tim doesn't need to mention that Bruce had been an asshole recently and Tim doesn't really feel that amenable to being kind to the man.)
He struggles to carry all the bags on his own but manages eventually- most of the bags hang from Tim's elbows.
As he walks back towards Dick's apartment, he pulls his phone out to call Dick again. It takes longer for Dick to answer this time, but he does.
"Tim?"
"Yup, I'm on my way. Just letting you know."
"Sweet. Thanks. Bye!"
And then the line cuts again.
That was hasty.
-
Tim knocks on Dick's apartment door with one grocery-laden arm.
"Come in," comes Dick's muffled answer, accompanied by mad giggling. Tim opens the door to find Dick lying face down on the ground. A black-haired, blue-eyed child giggles as he sits on Dick's back triumphantly.
"Apologies, I would greet you properly, but alas, I've been defeated."
"I see that," Tim says, closing the door behind him and moving across the apartment to set the groceries on the kitchen table. The child giggles madly.
"I gotchu! I gotchu!"
"Yes," Dick says, moving his face off from the ground to lay on his cheek, "But can I have up now? I admitted my defeat, I am an honorable loser."
"Okays, you can have up. Since you're nice about it."
The child slips off Dick's back, and Dick rolls over to his back before sitting up.
"Thank you, Danny. I see you're an honorable warrior."
Danny giggles some more. He seems to be a very happy child.
"Hey, Danny, I'm Tim," Tim greets. "I brought some gifts for you."
Danny runs away from Dick and towards Tim, throwing his little arms around Tim's legs.
"What!? Gifts!?"
Tim laughs and reaches down to ruffle Danny's hair.
"Yeah, buddy. Do you wanna see?"
"Yes!!" Danny practically shrieks, jumping up and down, still clinging to Tim's pants with his little hands. Tim reaches into the bag that the cashier had put the toys in and pulls out the two dolls. Danny does shriek when he sees them, grabbing them out of Tim's hands and moving back so he can spin and jump up and down, shrieking all the way, grin wide on his face.
"I always wanteted one of these!! A doll, a doll!" Danny yells, tearing up. Tim hopes they're happy tears.
"You like 'em?"
"Yesyesyesyesyesyes!!"
Tim laughs and reaches down to ruffle Danny's hair again.
"Do you think I could have a little grown-up talk with Dick while you play with your new dolls? Does that sound fair?"
Danny nods frantically and scrambles away to the living room with his new toys. He gets behind Dick and pushes him towards the kitchen where Tim is.
"Go, go, go!"
Dick laughs and acts like Danny can push him, shuffling where Danny pushes him. When Dick is near Tim, Danny runs away to the living room, Barbie and Batman figure in hand.
Tim turns to Dick.
"So, WE figures- Ready to talk finance?"
-
tags: @basilf1res @ollietheotaku @angelheartgamer @justgray15777 @terzatheunderscorerima @phantom120 @undead-essence @crazydoughnutlady @big-flrda-kys @pheonixdemonqueen @confused-moose-child @the-fandom-hopping-mage @rangerhorsetug @shamelessstudenthideout @nonbinary-disaster @keegan-parker @terrasolstice @eonic @mayoota-blog1 @theonewiththegays @glitchedchaos @nikki-pondtheauthor @allee52hrz @blacksea21090 @crazylittlemunchkin
(been thinking about continuing this on ao3. i have a whole doc for this. can't decide if i want to continue here or on ao3- if i did on ao3, i'd share the link and tag everyone, ofc. i think i'd explore more of danny's time exploring gotham if i made it an ao3 fic as well. thoughts?)
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