#... we could honestly use one though we really should go back to the doctor

[lovesick-level-up]

hello! question time! would you be comfortable making a freminet edit? I wouldn't request any underwater imagery of course but maybe it's an inevitable association with him, you know how it is

hey, anon! that's totally fine, though we would prefer if you wait until the official art of him has been properly released. it'll just make it easier for us to make edits of him. we actually really like freminet from what we've seen, his penguin is cute, and his gameplay leaks look fun. we're also excited for lyney and lynette! we're probably gonna have to get over our fear of being underwater for fontaine... or maybe ajax can just play those parts. because he's the only one who doesn't mind water stuff lol.

~ andromeda 🌸💫🌈

[foldingfittedsheets]

Before my beloved and I moved in together they were living with roommates in a place that didn't have a bathtub. Now, a reasonable person might conclude from this that baths would be out of the equation in a home with only one standing shower and no tub.

But these people weren't quitters. Naturopathic doctors and acupuncturists they were dedicated to treating their bodies well and one of the ways they liked to do that was hydrotherapy. Most people are familiar with this through things like polar bear plunges. You sit in a hot tub then jump in freezing water.

It's supposedly good for you and they were way into it. But again, no tub. They'd do hydro showers but it just wasn't the same. These people were not quitters, though. (One of them is the boob soap person, so it really isn't a surprise that she goes hard on everything). So they got what looked like two big metal old timey tubs but which were actually animal food troughs and set them up in the garage. They set up a water heater and god knows how they emptied the tub after, I think there was hoses involved? A pump maybe? I honestly can't remember. Anyway! Voila, hydrotherapy on demand.

I was not aware of this. So when I came over after a long day and my beloved said we should take a bath I was extremely puzzled. I only knew about the one shower. They showed me the garage tubs. I did want a bath and I wasn't really sure about the setup, but honestly I'll try anything once if only for the story, so I agreed.

Fun fact about me though. I haaaate being cold. I've been 0% body fat most of my life with skin barely keeping my bones enclosed. I'm always cold. My favorite activity at the time was sitting directly in front of space heaters. My shower temperatures turn me lobster red and make my beloved cringe. Willingly dunking myself into cold water is the antipathy of my entire deal.

On the night in question I happily submerged into the warm tank, pleasantly surprised by the big silly improvised tub. Which again was meant for livestock. My knees bumped companionably against my beloved as we soaked in the hot water. After a while they rose to go into the cold water. "You don't have to," they told me.

But I was haunted. I wouldn't be doing hydro if I just stayed in the warm tub. Maybe hydro was amazing. It has all these health benefits. I desperately didn't want to but I stood up with them. We were having this nice intimate evening in the garage, just us, I felt safe. I was gonna do it.

They stepped easily into the cold tub, dunking matter of factly into the frigid water. I went to step. I did. I really really tried. My foot went in and I started shrieking, my progress arrested by the total state of shock I entered when my warm toasty foot hit that smug arctic water tension. My beloved started laughing as my pitch ascended the deeper my foot went into the cold water.

I started loudly narrating my discomfort as my foot touched the bottom and I willed my other foot up to join it. "THIS IS VERY COLD," I yelled, "IT'S SO COLD I THINK I MIGHT DIE HOW ARE YOU JUST CASUALLY SITTING IN THIS FREEZING COLD WATER?! I'M DYING- I THINK I'M DYING! I'M DYING BUT WE'RE HERE, TOGETHER! I CAN DO THIS! I CAN DO THESE EVEN THOUGH IT'S SO COLD ALL MY MOLECULES HAVE COMPRESSED INTO A SOLID STATE!"

I ended up with both feet planted in the cold tub, water up to my shins, bellowing and panting while my beloved laughed so hard they couldn't breathe. I hunkered over the cold water, squatting like a frozen gargoyle.

My beloved was trying to psyche me up while I willed my body to obey me. In a sudden jerky drop like a puppet whose strings have been cut I plummeted my body into the cold and let out a shriek that I’m sure could have shattered glass and then leapt up out of the water at a speed relative to a rocket achieving space flight. I didn’t like it.

When we got back inside my beloved's roommates were collapsed on the ground with tears in the their eyes from how hard they'd been laughing. They and probably every neighbor down the block had heard my pterodactyl screeching and narration because the garage was not remotely soundproof.

[ssahopelessly]

Sick Leave

Synopsis: There has never been a time where she was ‘too sick’ to go to work.

Request: Could you do a Spencer x BAU Reader where she is sick but doesn’t want to admit it and comes into work? Please?

Warning: SpencerxFemReader, ambiguous relationship, symptom descriptions, sans Spencer’s germophobia, light displays of affection // let me know any I missed!

Word Count: 1.8k

Masterlist

If you had asked me what my problem was that morning, I would have endless options but I couldn’t really decide on which one was actually the front runner. Maybe the inability to breathe properly, maybe the scratchiness at the back of my throat, or maybe it was the headache that seemed to be wrapping around my head like it’s own imaginary gym headband. But maybe, it was the way I still went to work, having taken some medication and telling myself the symptoms would subside. Or at least I hoped they would.

I had stopped by my desk, trying to rub the pressure from my head as I felt a pair of eyes on me, studying me in my state from across the aisle. “Are you feeling okay?” Most sounds had only made my headache twinge in sharp pain, but I was thankful that didn’t seem to be the effect with him. His voice was a cool breeze, wrapping around my shoulders to fight the heat that had rushed over my skin.

“Pfft, yeah. I’m fine.” I tried to dismiss him though, turning to see the rightfully deserved quirked up eyebrow he was casting at me. “I’m fine.” Was another attempt at reassurance that probably would’ve been believable if, in my state, I hadn’t also tried to take a step forward towards my chair, and nearly stumbled on my two feet, almost falling to the ground.

Spencer was soon behind me though, pulling me up onto my feet with an arm around my waist as he pulled me to his chest, safer there than the floor. He kicked my chair further out with his foot as I grabbed onto the desk for stability, the both of us wrestling my body towards the seat.

“You’re definitely not fine.” Was huffed into my ear as I was finally seated, eyes all over me as he backed up slightly, assessing me in my state. The back of his hand raised to my forehead, bottom corner of his lip pulling inward. “You have a fever.” I avoided looking into his eyes as his hands slipped under my ears on both sides of my head and towards the back of my head, somewhere near where my hairline met my neck, fingertips pressing into the skin in their vicinity. “And I can feel how swollen your lymph nodes are.” I would blame the potential fever on the blush that rushed to my cheeks, knowing that the way he was holding my head was a bit more intimate than acceptable for simple coworkers. If Derek had held Emily or JJ’s head like this, there would be room for concern or rumors.

“What is that supposed to even mean?” An attempt to breathe through my nose had him recoiling back, the proof that I was congested hanging between us.

“It means you’re sick and need to go home.”

“You’re not even a medical doctor. You can’t make that call.” His stare softened as his hand reached up once more to brush hair from my face to behind my ear.

“Do you want to talk to Hotch or should I?”

“I don’t want to go home. I want to work.” I forced the pout on my lips, knowing my bottom lip jutting out was often how I got him to cave in an argument. But he simply closed his eyes and turned away from me, moving back towards his desk.

“Okay,” was his admit of defeat, “Fine. I just feel like you should go home. Just trying to look out for you.” There was a layer of hurt in his words that made me feel guilty. Spencer buried his nose in a book, practically ignoring me from my side of the aisle, and that might’ve hurt more than his words. No matter how aggressive my cough had become, or how many times I sneezed, not a look, not a ‘bless you’, nothing. It was just an effort to look out for me, we both knew this. But I was stubborn, and it honestly just felt like a head cold. I could work through a head cold with medicine. I had done it before, I could surely do it again.

-

I’m not sure when, and I’m not sure how. All I know is, I was being woken up by someone shaking my arm, and when I opened my eyes, Aaron Hotchner was squatting down at the side of my desk, a sympathetic smile on his face. Dad Hotch was coming out for me in his smile, a sharp contrast to the stern exterior that usually accompanied SSA Hotchner. “Go home.” Was all he offered, the corner of his lips never falling.

“No,” it came out more of a whine than I had originally meant, my head pounding as I lifted it from where it had been resting on my arms. “I want to stay.”

“You’re sick. And you were sleeping here for an hour. Go home.” Another attempt at pleading with him would have dropped cold on the floor, and I wasn’t going to argue with him when he just explained to me how long I had been out. Gathering my things from my desk, Aaron walked me towards the sixth floor elevator bay, where Spencer joined us.

“I got her from here.” The grudge from earlier had been dropped, as his hand reached for my bag, draping the strap onto his other shoulder that wasn’t occupied by his own work bag. Aaron offered him a smile and nod before reentering the BAU glass doors, the only other company with Spencer and I being the hum of the elevator car as we waited. I kept my arms wrapped around myself, feeling very much like a child in a child swap dynamic. “Told you.” He muttered under his breath as he rocked from his heel to his toes. Rolling my eyes at him, I entered the elevator when it finally showed up, Spencer reaching over for the ground floor button as the door closed us in.

On the few occasions Spencer and I had carpooled to work, Spencer had noted that I tend to park in the same area and I tried to explain to him it was the prime parking spot location, and the banter had fallen off after that. Now, I was happy he seemed to know where I would have parked that morning, his hand reaching into my bag for my car keys. I had wanted to drive, but it was another instance where Spencer seemed to know better than me, and my energy was dwindling to maintain any fight that could start between us.

The drive home was quiet and I was fighting sleep. I would never admit to being sick and/or tired, but I was grateful for being sent home. I was grateful for having someone like Spencer as my coworker and my ‘something more’, but I didn’t know to what extent I was entitled to some actions. “Are you at least going to stay with me?”

“I’m taking you home, aren’t I?” There was a twinkle in the corner of his eye as he tried not to laugh at me, doing a terrible job of suppressing his humor from his lips. I sank further into my seat as we traveled further from Quantico and closer back to the residential part of DC. I had already fallen asleep at work, surely Spencer wouldn’t be surprised if I fell asleep on the car ride home.

-

“We’re here.” This time, I was woken by Spencer’s hand on my thigh as he had opened the passenger door and was working on getting my seatbelt off of me. Something he couldn’t quite do as my arms were once again wrapped over my chest and my head was resting against the strap as it crossed my shoulder. I just grunted as I reached for my bag that had been at my feet, seeing Spencer had once again placed the strap over his own shoulder to carry it for me. He stepped to the side as I tried to climb out, offering a hand for me to hold when he thought I might need it.

I was still capable enough to unlock my apartment in my state, but that didn’t stop Spencer from wanting to stay, entering my place with me. He placed my bag on one of the bar stools, like he’d seen me do countless times before, then just kind of watched me as I moved through my space. Sleep hadn’t left my system just yet, as I bumped into the door frame into my room, immediately pulling my top off, attempting to throw it towards the hamper. My pajamas had been resting on the foot of my bed and I had fully changed over to those by the time Spencer entered my room, hand in his pockets as he watched me from the door. “You didn’t have to tell Hotch.” I tried to chide him as I pulled the layers of fabric back from my spot on the mattress.

“I didn’t.” I raised my eyebrow at him, his head bowing as he took a moment to laugh under his breath, stepping into the room now. “You fell asleep at your desk. He asked what was wrong and I just told him you hadn’t been feeling well.”

“So you snitched on me?”I climbed into bed, back under my covers because that seemed like the best place for me to be in this moment. If I had been sent home from work, I was simply going to sleep the day away. Spencer sat on the side of the mattress, reaching for the covers to pull them over my body for me.

“Get some sleep.” The look of adoration was so intense, I thought I might actually see cartoon hearts take form in his eyes, his hand reaching up to gently brush the pad of his thumb over my cheekbone.

I couldn’t stay mad at him, not for being overprotective or for telling Hotch. He was doing what he thought was best in an effort to care for me, and where it maybe hadn’t been how I would’ve handled the situation, it was only in my best interest. I reached for his hand as it rested between us now, trying to interlace my fingers with his. He let it happen, his focus seemingly only on our hold. “Spenc-”

“Sleep.” A kiss was applied to my forehead before I laid back against the pillows, watching him as he moved from the bed back towards the door frame, hand lingering over the light switches.

“Thank you.”

“Anytime.” Pressing a hand to my lips, I blew him a kiss as he turned off the lights in my room, a blush rising to his cheek as he cracked the door in his exit. I listened for the sounds of his departure from the apartment, but instead only heard the sounds of him moving through the kitchen, probably making lunch. I pulled the pillow next to me closer, trying to imagine it was him, that it had been him cuddling me into tranquility as I drifted off to sleep.

-

For the alternate twist on this trope, check out my SickSpencerxFemReader fic here!

Thank you for reading!

[am-i-obsessed---maybe]

Wrong Tardis (Ninth Doctor x M!Reader/ Tenth Doctor x M!Reader)

I'm not a huge fan of Nine but I'm slowly going back and watching his episodes and he's kinda growing on me.

Not sure if he's ooc here (though I'm like 90% sure Rose is) but whatever. I'm super excited for tomorrow's special and really wanted to write more for this series.

If you have any requests for this series send me an ask! (just keep in mind I have my own plans for big episodes like Silence in the Library or End Of Time.

Wordcount: Just over 1k

Series masterpost

The Tardis was old, like really old, like when the Doctor stole it it was already in a museum old. So occasionally it glitched, nothing too big. That is until it glitched and teleported you you to Cardiff 2005.

That was a whole earth year before you even met the Doctor. On the plus side the glimpse of his face you saw before you were teleported told you he would find you and come to pick you up, it was only a matter of time so you walked around.

You had yet to be in Cardiff in 2005, you'd been in to Cardiff circa 1910 but not 2005 so you look around, you saw the sights, you people watched for a bit and then you saw a familiar blue box.

"About time" You told yourself as you walked in.

"Did you fix the timezone processor?" You asked, happy to be back. By your calculation is had been about 3 hours.

"Who're you?" Asked a blonde woman who'd put herself between you and the Tardis console. You blinked.

You may have jumped to conclusions.

Looking around the inhabitants of this Tardis were very much not the inhabitants of yours. You only recognized one face. Captain Jack Harkness (Though he wasn't traveling with you when you'd been teleported away).

"You're Rose Tyler" You said to the woman who stood in front of you and she nodded.

"Yeah, and who are you?" She asked again. By now Jack and the Doctor, or the man you assumed was the Doctor were looking at you wearily.

You looked to the Doctor, his hair was darker and buzzed close to his head, his forehead creased in ways your Doctor's didn't and his ears were definitely larger than you remembered them being. Looking into his eyes calmed you though, because those were definitely the eyes of the man you loved. Though perhaps a few years younger.

This was the Doctor before you'd met him. before he knew you existed, maybe even before he destroyed Gallifrey.

"Well? Aren't you gonna answer her?" Asked Jack all three were looking at you expectantly.

"I'm an anthropologist" You finally said.

"An anthropologist?" Rose asked and you nodded.

Both Jack and Rose looked at you intently, not really buying it.

"Is that your name?" Rose asked wearily.

"No" You answered honestly, "But I can't tell you my name. I'm sorry." You told her and once again looked at the Doctor. He hadn't said anything yet.

"What do you mean you can't tell us your name? Why?" Rose asked.

"Because he's from the future Rose" The Doctor finally said, climbing down from the ladder he was perched on when you burst in.

"Aren't you?" He asked and you nodded.

"You're from my future" He said and you smiled almost sadly.

"Inquisitive as ever Doctor" You told him.

"I should go" You said, slowly turning around.

"Wait, if you're really from the future how come you were so shocked to see us? Don't you know us? Like, the future us?" Rose asked.

"He can't tell you anything Rose, it could put the whole timeline at risk" The Doctor said.

"He's right, I really shouldn't even be here. I thought this was my Doctor's Tardis coming to finally pick me up."

"Finally? How long have you been here?" Jack asked.

"About three hours" You told him.

"Does that mean there's another version of the Doctor wanderin' around Cardiff right now?" Rose asked and you chuckled a bit.

"No, we had a bit of glitch—" "With the timezone processor?" The Doctor asked.

"I can't tell you that" You said but he smiled at you with the cheeky little smile that only this face must have because you'd never seen it before and you sighed, "Yes with the timezone processor".

"What's a timezone processor?" Rose asked.

"It's what keeps all occupants of the Tardis in the same time bubble in flight" Both you and the Doctor said together, the two of you looked at each other.

"It's going to be your fault you know. You don't check the timezone processor enough and at some point it's going to act up. I want you to remember me saying this when I see you again. It's your fault" You told him but your voice held no malice, quite the opposite, it was loving teasing and both Rose and Jack could tell.

"I'm gonna go meet Mickey at the train station" Rose said and she grabbed Jack with her as she left. Leaving you and the Doctor alone but not before looking at the Doctor one last time, smiling and giving him a big old wink.

With just the two of you left the Tardis was quiet except for the soft whirring of the engine as it fueled up.

"How do you know what a timezone processor is?" The Doctor asked.

"I can't tell you" You said.

"When are you from?" He asks.

"I can't tell you that either" You repeat.

"Then can you tell me why you're looking at me like that?" He asks.

You step closer to him and gently cradle his face in your hands.

"I've never this face before" You simply say.

"What are you to me?" He asks.

"One day you'll find out. One day you're going to look at this face and smile and you're going to call me brilliant and when you do you're going to remember this and who knows, maybe I'll see this face again" You told him and kissed his cheek.

The wheezing sound of the Tardis landing could be heard faintly from beyond the wooden doors and you smiled widely.

"See you soon" You said and turned around, walking out to hopefully find your Doctor waiting for you.

Outside the Tardis stood another blue police box with the door open and the Doctor stood outside.

"There you are! We've been looking all over for you!" He said. His face was covered in oil and grease.

"Did you fix the timezone processor?" you asked.

"Eh, eventually" The Doctor said.

"And was it sparking because of a loose wire from when we crashed on Auros?" You asked, admittedly somewhat condescendingly.

"Yes" The Doctor mumbled and you rolled your eyes.

"I told you to check it" You said as you walked inside. The Doctor closed the door behind you.

"Y/N" He said, calling your name and you turned your attention from the Tardis console to him.

"Yes love?" You asked.

"Have I told you that you're brilliant?" He asked and you smiled.

"Not recently, no" You said.

[dxrksong]

Just a funny what if

The classic batfam being used to summon the ghost king scenario. Danny claws his way out of the circle and tries to intimidate everyone

Danny: WHO DARES-JOHNNY13?! Is THIS Where you've been this whole time?!

Jason: unfortunately.

Danny: wait, are you alive?!

Jason: unfortunately.

Danny: is that your family???

Jason: UNFORTUNATELY

[Later]

Jason: kid, wait up!

Danny: ?? What's up?

Jason: take me with you, PLEASE! I can't deal with their constant drama!!

Danny: John-JASON, I really don't think That's a good idea! With your family being overprotective as it is, your.....weird biology of being essentially a halfa ZOMBIE. I'm honestly concerned about what would happen if you went back into the zone.

Jason: kid please! There's hardly any ambient ectoplasm here that ISN'T tainted to high hell! Look, you can get a doctor or something if it'll make you feel better but I REALLY need to go back!!!!

Danny: *sighs* fine fine! I'll get frostbite. Just wait here for a little bit!

Jason: YES!!! THANK YOU KID!!! YOURE A LIFESAVER!!!!

Danny: uh huh, just don't die again. Oh, and btw, you might wanna start running now.

Jason: huh? Why?

The batfam, misunderstanding that entire conversation and gearing up to smother and protect Jason at all cost:

The Bike who drove itself home the moment Danny appeared because it knew Jason was gonna be fine:

---------

Frostbite isn't one for swearing

For one he's more than often surrounded by younglings and the other is to maintain the image of his tribe. For if he were to start swearing like a sailor, the rest of the yeti tribe will be sure to follow. And of course it'd be nearly impossible to reverse such a thing.

So when he met with the great one's distressed friend, all he could do was freeze as he desperately tried to pick his words VERY carefully.

What....

What the FUCK was he LOOKING at?!

This.....this poor thing is SERIOUSLY ILL!!

Oh-wait! The great one was saying something, he completely tuned him out!

FB: Great one, we MUST get him to the infirmary IMMEDIATELY!!

Danny: huh? Why? Is it really that bad- *Frostbite grabs Jason and runs back into the zone* -and wow he didn't even wait, this must be serious.

------

Frostbite......has no words.....

This......shouldn't be possible....

And yet for some reason it is....

FB: You have a parasite.

Jason: huh?? Like a virus?

FB: yes.....Which shouldn't be possible.

Jason: what?? How? I'm technically alive right?

FB: yes, but that's not why. It's the parasite itself, that's the impossibility!

Danny: what do you mean?

FB: it appears the parasite is mimicking a central nervous and vein system out of ectoplasm not unlike what the Great one has, hence your reserection.

Jason: and that means???

FB: it essentially means you have a second core! But it appears unfinished. Though I am curious as to WHY it's using itself so diligently to keep you alive...

Danny: so what were to happen if we were to remove it?

Jason: ?!?!?!

FB: he would have to be put in an intensive care treatment immediately as the shock would no doubt threaten to stop his heart or rupture his core.

Jason, trying to keep himself calm: so there's no way to fix this?

FB: on the contrary, it appears your body might be trying to absorb it. Or more specifically the corrupted ectoplasm that came with it.

Jason: ok?! And??!

FB: well if we get rid of the corrupted ectoplasm, the parasite SHOULD be weakened enough to the point we can just take it out, simple as that.....in theory.

Jason growled, green coating his vision. Before getting a small electric shock in the neck

Jason: OW! WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!

FB: it appears the parasite reacts to your emotions. If you get angry, it boosts your strength. Although unfortunately it seems to elevate your emotions as well, which seems to only confuse the parasite more till the threat is neutralized or out of sight.

Jason: so, what? It's sentient??

FB: it appears so, however it doesn't look to be very smart. Only reacting to emotions and the stress levels in your system. Kind of like a blob ghost with it's herd now that I think about it.

Jason: .......ARE YOU SAYING I'M BEING POSESSED BY A FUCKING BLOB GHOST?!?!?!

Danny:

Jason:

FB:

FB: well I'm NOT not saying that-

Danny had to drag Jason back home before he injured frostbite.

[vaguely-concerned]

Ever since watching The Wire for the first time, my brain has doggedly kept working away at the Especially the lies of it all, and specifically at how much the structure beneath the different stories Garak tells contributes to the overall meaning of what he’s trying to say. While the contradicting narratives of course expertly obscure the factual circumstances of his getting exiled, using them also allows him to tell aspects and facets of the emotional truth I don’t think he ever could have, if he’d simply told the actual story of what happened. (It’s very Varric-core of him honestly.)

The first story — the ‘oh, you think you know me?’ story — says I have done things that would sicken you if you knew any detail of it. It’s clearly meant to scare Bashir away so he’ll leave him to die shamefully in peace already lol. But it’s also one of his (probably much-needed lbr) little lessons to Julian that are so frequent in the beginning, given while Garak still has some hold on himself — “Don’t be so quick to forgive me if you don’t even know what I’ve done; what would you do if this really were the sum total of what I am?” (And Julian seems to surprise him by going ‘Well, exactly the same thing, because no matter who you are I am a doctor. But I sort of take your point.’)

The second story — the letting the orphans go story — says I have failed to smother my soul in its cradle when it was required of me, and I regret that more than anything I’ve done. To my ears this is the one most shot through with active self-loathing too, which is interesting. He’s officially lost the control he’s been clinging to and it’s about to get ugly. His TL;DR is ‘Sentiment is the greatest weakness of all’, even all the way back here. (Which is the one lesson Julian steadfastly refuses to learn, which I think in turn does some serious rearrangement of Garak’s soul over the course of the show haha. Get uno reversed into the process of loving and being loved without shame asshole.)  This is also where he builds up to admitting to having any sort of need for companionship or closeness at all and — so much worse — that Julian’s role in his life actually has fulfilled some of that need, and he’s DRIPPING with defensive venom over it b/c well I get it Garak vulnerability is scary it can take a person like that. 

(I also feel there’s something honest and forbidden in ‘Suddenly the whole exercise seemed utterly meaningless’. I suspect ‘actually… why the fuck are we even doing this???’ is not a welcome sentiment in an Obsidian Order water cooler environment, no matter what you’re saying it about lmao. The very first seeds of him deconstructing the things he’s been taught about Cardassia and his work might be hinted at here, though they of course take a looong time to come to any real fruition.)   

The third story — the ‘Elim was my best friend’ story — says hey, remember that thing you said once, about how sometimes, you have to be loyal to yourself before you can be loyal to anything else? Well. guess what. I couldn’t even be that lmao. It also furthers that thread of being divided from yourself, split, that having ‘Elim’ as a separate person around in all versions of the story brings in. He’s in control of himself again, but he essentially hands his life and soul over to Julian to decide what should be done with them. 

I’ve done horrible things and it finally caught up with me, I’m getting what I deserve → I let sentiment master me and the fact that I’m too weak to do what’s needed of me shames me more than the evil I’ve done → I fucked up. I betrayed myself and everything I held to, all for nothing, and I have no one to blame for it but myself. But it’s very nice that you’re here anyway, Doctor. (Wow. I didn’t realize quite how isolated and lonely that last one was before right now. The way Tain has shaped him really has just… locked him completely into himself, huh.) We can also see a movement through from a completely professional context in the first story, to an intensely interpersonal and internal context in the last one — even his fake stories spiral in towards intimacy, which I think is what he longs for here even if he can’t quite like. Touch that without the stories as a buffer yet, it’s clearly like touching a hot stove for him to interact with it too directly. 

And you know what I find incredibly interesting the whole way through? Even on his deathbed, where he’s dying from the thing Tain had put in his head, he’s protecting Tain. He puts all the blame for where he is on himself (‘My future was limitless, until I threw it away’), even if he has to employ a strange twisty logic where he’s split himself into two to do it. Don’t get me wrong, Garak has done horrific things all on his own haha, but it’s notable that he almost isolates Tain from that. ‘Tain was the Obsidian Order. Not even the Central Command dared challenge him. And I was his right hand.’ Tain in Garak’s stories is this infallible implacable weirdly distant figure, even now. Indeed, as will make a lot of sense with the revelations further down the line, more than anything it seems the gaze of an abused child desperate for recognition looking up at an idealized (if not in any way nurturing) parent.‘He was retired at that point; he couldn't protect me’, Garak says, as if what he’d need protection from in the first place isn’t Tain himself lmao, as if Tain had no active part in any of this. He never lets blame touch Tain at all. At this stage he would rather consider himself a broken flawed tool than accept that the hands that have wrought and wielded him have ever had any fault in them. AND in the middle of it all, with plausible deniability, on death’s door and knocking meekly to be let in before he must finish the mortifying ordeal of being known and test the even more daunting possibility of being loved, Garak at the same time manages to drop the breadcrumb trail of clues to make it possible for Julian to find Tain if he so chooses and gets in the ‘sons of Tain’ thing too for future dramatic irony purposes. Truly he is the Michelangelo of lying. Every falsehood a multifaceted masterpiece. Elim ‘achieving a state of intertextuality in real life is possible if you work hard and believe in yourself’ Garak. I love him so much. 

I think all of this is why “I forgive you. For whatever it is you did,” works so well, because it too works on a structural level. It’s such a deceptively multilayered response — it has the syntax of a joke, in a way, and it is kind of funny even under the circumstances, but delivered with such earnest warmth and fondness. It’s both recognition and acceptance (forgiveness!). It’s saying ‘I finally understand enough of what you’re trying to tell me beneath and through all that, in whatever way you’re capable of, I see you’ and ‘my answer hasn’t changed (bitch)’. The forgiveness Julian offers here is complete — on principle, and out of personal feeling and empathy (only one of which Garak deigns to respond to during the second story, where he calls it ‘smug Federation sympathy’, placing it more completely on the principle side than it probably is. ‘Dude you’re my friend please don’t just lie down and die in a completely avoidable way on me, who else is going to not only tolerate but actually gleefully enjoy me being annoying as fuck over lunch’ seems to be the subtext that’s a lot harder to acknowledge and invite in for both of them. And yet Tain seems perfectly clear on the fact that Julian is Garak’s friend, which, y’know. Must be fun living with the knowledge that Tain has eyes everywhere looming over you every day haha guess you’d just have to tune that out.) 

Most of all — ’Don’t give up on me now, Doctor’... and he didn’t! He didn’t. Augh. Ow.

[cosmerelists]

If Cosmere Characters Had Real-World Jobs (But Not The Obvious Ones)

In this list, I wanted to try to give Cosmere characters jobs in our world while avoiding the jobs that would be the most obvious picks--like, for example, the real world equivalent of whatever their canon job is.

1. Kaladin: Professional Football Player

It's a dangerous job that Kaladin's dad would scoff at, but the other kids in town think it's really cool and also the recruiters are coming through town and, I mean, he's really good at football.

2. Lirin: Public Defender

If we avoid the obvious job (doctor), then Lirin still needs a job where he is doing good, but it's pretty thankless and the general public are suspicious and think he might actually be evil somehow. So I figure: public defender. He's highly educated, helping people who need it, and just getting nothing but grief as a result. Worst of all, his smart son wants to be a FOOTBALL player!

3. Marsh: Masseuse

I feel like people who are good at hemalurgy know about the body and its pressure points and things like that. And frankly, "acupuncturist" felt too on the nose.

4. Shallan: Park Ranger

Shallan HATES to be confined, so no way she's going into an office job. Plus, she likes nature and animals, but I'm trying to avoid the more obvious jobs (like botanist or ecologist). It's just too bad that Shallan is SO bad at staring a campfire, though.

5. Navani: Wedding Planner

Navani is VERY good at managing people and events, as seen when she had to manage everything while Gavilar was off plotting. She's also very organized and literally invented wristwatches. So I think she's be very good at this job.

6. Elend: Grad Student

This one may be too obvious, but I figure something like "politician" or "philosopher" are more obvious. But to me, Elend has major grad student energy.

7. Nale: Insurance Adjuster

Nale is a cop, of course, through and through. But if he wasn't a cop, then he'd need some other job where he uses the rules to screw people over. So I see him as, like, an evil insurance guy who's denying people medical coverage because the company wants him to.

8. Blackthorn-Era Dalinar: Debt Collector

If flashback Dalinar couldn't make a living mowing people down in battle and had to find a less obvious job, then I could see him being the guy to hunt down people and demand money they don't have. He doesn't really care about the money. He just likes the hunt.

9. Adolin: eSports Player

It's a job where you can head-to-head battle people and your dad is vaguely puzzled and thinks you should be doing something more important with your life.

10. Lightsong: Customer Service Agent

In canon, Lightsong's job is to face down a huge line of people and tell them "no" in response to them asking for something they want. So, I mean, I feel like that's equivalent to one of those shitty customer service jobs where you're not really allowed to help people (until, of course, Lightsong goes rogue and does start helping people, but that's another story...)

11. Stormfather: Bus Driver

He has his route, and he's not deviating from it. And if you miss the bus, he's not stopping. He's not going back. You can try to run, but you will not catch up to him.

12. Tress: Mechanic

As a Sprouter, Tress had to figure out how each of the spores worked and how to use them. I just feel like she'd be good at diagnosing issues in machinery and then fixing them.

13. Steris: Programmer

She's precise, she's smart, she likes rules. I think coding would suit her.

14. Yumi: Waitress

She could stack the plates SO high.

15. Marasi: Investigative Reporter

Which, honestly, is what I wish she had been rather than being a cop like in canon. I think it would suit her! She'd get to research, investigate, find the truth...

16. Kelsier: Motivational Speaker

He tells you about the power of smiling no matter what, so that you are never defeated. He tells you to carry something small, some memento or photo, to help you find your motivation. You tells you that no goal is out of reach--you just have to find the right people and the right steps to move forward. And he tells you that the most important thing is to survive.

[fireinmoonshot]

can i please just get something with worried/protective bradley??

“Don’t freak out,” Natasha starts as soon as Bradley answers the call. “But Moonshine is in the medical center. They asked me to call you and tell you and said there’s no reason for you to worry, they just wanted you to know.”

“What sort of accident?” He asks, already searching for his car keys.

Natasha can hear the worry in his voice. “It’s nothing to worry about, Rooster.”

“If it’s not, then you’ll tell me what happened,” he says, pulling on his boots with difficulty, considering one of his hands is occupied with holding the phone to his ear. “So tell me.”

There’s no way Bradley is going to let Natasha hang up without an answer, and she knows that as well. So, sighing, she relents. “We’d just landed and I don’t know what happened exactly, but when we got out they suddenly felt really lightheaded and nearly fainted. I managed to catch them in time, and they didn’t actually faint.”

Bradley opens the car door and shoves his key into the ignition. “I’m on my way.”

“No, you don’t–” 

Natasha is cut off by Bradley hanging up on her. She sighs and walks back into the medical center, heading over to your bed where you’re lying, a cool cloth over your forehead. 

“I told him not to come, but he’s coming anyway. I’m sorry, Moonshine, but I guess there’s no stopping Rooster when he gets his head set on something,” she admits.

You chuckle a little, but even just doing that sends a pain shooting through your head. “Yeah, I should have expected that, honestly. But he’d worry more if I didn’t tell him. Thank you for calling him for me, Nat.” 

She tells you it’s no problem and then excuses herself to go back to work. Even though she wants to stay, she has things that she needs to do and can’t spend all her time sitting with you and waiting for Bradley to show up – and she knows that when he does, you’ll be in good hands.

Bradley makes it to you in record time, finding a park and running into the base, heading towards the medical center and stopping for no one. When he steps through the door and sees you, his heart crumbles in his chest.

“Angel, what happened?” He asks, sitting down on the chair beside your bed and taking your hand in his. Your eyes had been closed, trying to dull the throbbing in your head, so you hadn’t noticed him coming into the room.

You smile at the sight of him once your eyes adjust to the light. “You know you didn’t have to come all the way here, Bradley. You had things you were planning to do today!”

He shakes his head. “No, not when Phoenix calls me and tells me you’re hurt.”

“I’m not hurt, not really,” you give his hand a squeeze. “I’m afraid to tell you that the doctor thinks it’s just a really bad migraine, probably caused by the combination of a lack of water, sleep and flying earlier today.” 

Bradley squeezes your hand back. “That sounds like being hurt to me.”

“I’m definitely going to live, though, so you can go home, Bradley,” you smile.

There is no moving Bradley Bradshaw from your side, though. He has no plans to go home any time soon until you’re coming home alongside him, completely cured from your migraine. 

“Not happening, angel,” he says. “Is there anything I can do? You’ve had painkillers?”

You hum. “As soon as I got in here they gave me the good ones. It doesn’t hurt as much anymore, I promise, so–”

“No matter how much you try and convince me, I’m still not going anywhere.” He brings your hand up to his mouth and presses a gentle kiss to your palm. “Why don’t you close your eyes and try and get some rest? I’ll stay here until you wake up.”

There was no use trying to convince him anymore. You could see that now. The man was so devoted to you that he was willing to stay by your side doing nothing while you slept off a migraine. “I’m counting on you to still be here when I wake up, then.”

“I’ve got nowhere else I’d rather be, angel.”

[icallhimjoey]

All Goes South

♥ ♥  Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: Joe is overworked, tired, exhausted and just... he needs a break. Everyone knows it, too. None of it is really exciting to him anymore. Then, he meets you, and something reignites within him.

CW / disclaimer: language, drinking, rpf, fem!reader

Author’s note: I watched a very dumb 2004 romantic comedy and was ~inspired! I reworked the plot a LOT, but if you manage to figure it out ahead of time, please don't spoil anything! Come shout at me privately instead :)

Wordcount: 2.7K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five It was just after 8PM, most of the, if not the entire building already empty, when five people huddled together in the small office that belonged to one of them.

“He just seems... exhausted,”

“That’s because he is.”

Joe was meant to come in for meetings that afternoon. There were quite a few important things they had to go through, but just as he was meant to be walking in, he’d called in sick. Said he wasn’t feeling well and was about to go back to bed.

Trying to get him to do the meetings from his home were futile. Joe expertly denied, apologised, and hung up his phone before turning it off completely.

“We can all see that he’s overworked, we don’t need to dwell on that. Listen, all we want to do is give him a break, we all want that for him, but we can’t, it’s as simple as that. There’s too many things coming up, and we need him to actually go as well,”

“Yea, but what can we do when he calls in sick? I can’t send someone over to drag him out of his house by his lies,”

A soft snicker filled the small office. None of this was actually funny, though.

“We need him to stop calling in sick,”

“I’m a publicist! Not a doctor. I’m not going to risk telling him to do work when he’s unwell,”

“He’s not unwell,”

“Again, I’m not a doctor. Neither are you, or any of us. We can’t make that judgment.”

“He’s just tired. We... Honestly, we should give him a break,”

“Except we can’t.”

“It’s coming out of his own pocket, if he wants a break, we could give him a break.”

Eyes darted from one to the other, deep sighs were followed by silences.

“Remember how he used to be so excited about every single public appearance he got to do? Can we... I don’t know, find a way to get that excitement back into him?”

“Hard to be excited over shit when you’re drained,”

“I know, but there’s got to be something... there’s got to be something we can do...”

Joe splashed whatever water was left on his hands into his face after running his wrists under the cold-water stream for a second. Little drops landed all over before he rubbed his face with wet palms. He sighed deeply.

This definitely was a full set up.

He’d suspected a little something something. And he had been so close to cancelling, but he’d been made to promise. He had laughed then, “Yea, I promise, I’ll be there,” even though he thought it was silly to say that down the phone to his manager, he had done anyway.

This was supposed to be a casual dinner. Just to chat a bit, nothing too intense. Joe had told himself beforehand he wasn’t going to drink, but the second his manager started to carefully talk about all the things that were coming up, Joe had stopped a waiter and asked for a glass of something strong. Just, whatever, some hard liquor please.  

Then, not even five minutes later, Joe knew it was a real set up when he saw more people walk in through the door. His team. He wondered why they’d been sat at a larger table with just the two of them to begin with, but his manager had swiftly moved onto talking about some amazing gig he’d been to over the weekend, and it hadn’t come up again.

They’d all talked. Asked questions. Wanted to know if there were things they could do to make Joe more comfortable. They were all things Joe had to decide. Decisions. Do you want this or that? Would rather have these or those? Did he mind if an intern tagged along? Would he be interested in– it was a lot. It was a mental load he didn’t really want to take on. Couldn’t really take on. It had made him escape to the toilets, and he’d been in there for way too long. They’d be coming to look for him any second now, he thought as he stared at himself in the mirror.

He rubbed his face once more before leaving the bathroom, thinking of some sort of excuse to head out. Leave.

He saw out the front, saw his manager by the entrance, on the phone, smoking a cigarette. Fuck, they thought of everything, hadn’t they? With the doors guarded, Joe couldn’t just slip out unseen. Maybe his mother could have called him about something. Some sort of family emergency. No, they fucking knew his parents, didn’t they? They could easily fact-check immediately. Everyone was way too tangled up in this business, and it was his own fault that everyone had grown close. He should’ve kept things more separate, maybe. Jesus, what was he going to say?

“Psst,”

Joe turned his head, and found someone, stood in what he assumed was the doorway that lead into the kitchen of the restaurant.

You’d seen Joe. Sat at his table, with people who all dressed way more casually than they acted. You didn’t like that. It was the pretence of, we’re just here for a good time, but then they would only talk about work and obligations.

The moment you made eye contact, Joe gave a polite smile, wanted to keep walking towards his table, so you did it again, “Psst,”

And Joe stopped, turned again, looked confused as if to ask, me? You’re trying to catch my attention?

You caught it, though, even if Joe wasn’t sure what was happening, and you nodded your head behind you. Silently said, come in here. Joe didn’t move. Just, blinked a few times. Then your eyes moved, quickly towards the kitchen, then back at Joe before you took a step backwards. And as if by magic, Joe took a step towards you. You took another, and then so did he. It was like you were a huge radiating magnet and Joe was made of iron. It kind of made you smile a little, because suddenly, there you were. In the kitchen of a restaurant. With Joe.

“You want to get out?”

Um... what? Who were you? How did you know?

“I saw that, didn’t mean to eavesdrop but... no, that’s a lie, I totally eavesdropped because I wanted to, sorry,”

Joe looked, saw people cooking, cleaning, moving hunks of meat from grills onto plates, big plumes of smoke coming from pans... No one really paid either of you any attention. As if guests walked into the kitchen all the time.

“You’re Joe Quinn– Joseph Quinn, why wouldn’t I secretly listen in?”

Wait, did you work there? You weren’t wearing what any of the other staff were wearing...

“Do you want to get out of here?” you asked again, and Joe didn’t fully understand what was happening, but found himself patting his pockets. He had everything. He stepped back, looked into the restaurant, and saw his table of people, all... sort of, bored. Not talking. All on their phones, all waiting for his return from the bathroom.

Joe sighed. They were all lovely people. Really, really nice people. He just kind of didn’t want to see them right now. Didn’t want to talk to them for like, three months, if that was allowed.

“It’s this way, you can leave throughout the back, go somewhere else, where they sell great glasses of something strong,” you joked, moving through the kitchen, beckoning Joe to follow.

Again, who were you, exactly?

“Go get your, whatever hard liquor,”

Oh, you really had eavesdropped, hadn’t you?

You pushed through two doors, and lead Joe out into a grimy alleyway where the big bins were kept.

“If they ask, I can say that I just saw you take some pictures with fans and pretend to go and get you, but really take my time. Give you a proper head start.” You were stood in the doorway still, holding the door open and selling Joe ideas that didn’t need a sales pitch. He’d fork over money just for the suggestion.

Joe huffed a breath of a laugh and turned to look down the alleyway towards the main street.

“I think someone’s still out by the doors out front,” Joe stalled.

“Want me to go check?”

Joe cocked his head a little at you, then closed his eyes and had to sort of... reset everything. Reboot the system. He had just been hauled out the back of a restaurant by someone he didn’t know and although fantastic, this was weird.

“Okay, hang on. Hi, hello,” Joe stuck out a hand, “I’m Joe, nice to meet you,”

You laughed, took his hand, and introduced yourself.

“Thank you for this, it’s bizarre,” Joe laughed even though he still looked confused. “But... yea, thank you,”

“Be free little bird,” you waved an arm and couldn’t finish the sentence before cracking up. “Go migrate, fly south, where the good stuff is,” you meant pubs, and it seemed like Joe understood.

You smiled at each other a second before you moved to shut the door. A weird sense of accomplishment washed over you. Perfect. This had gone perfectly, right? It had. Had it? No, yes, it had.

“Come with?”

The door was almost closed when fingers curled around the edge, stopping you from shutting it completely.

“Huh?”

“Wanna come with? Lone birds are bad luck, aren’t they?” Joe had his lips pursed into a smile which looked like he was trying to hide it. A mischievous glint played in his eyes.

“That’s magpies I think,” you said, which wasn’t the point, but it gave you more time to consider what was being asked of you.

Joe was asking you to sneak out into the night with him. Joe Quinn. Joseph Quinn. It was kind of exactly what you’d hoped would happen but hadn’t really dared to think about, because obviously, this was never going to happen. But it was. He'd literally just asked. Joe’s fingers were clasped around the door you’d tried to pull shut and was asking you to come with him.

“Those are birds,” Joe half shrugged, smiled.

You looked him up and down a second, then said, “Okay, give me like, a minute, I’ll go see from inside if there’s still someone out by the door,”

And like promised, you reappeared about a minute later. Found Joe stood in the middle of the alleyway, hands in pockets, waiting for you.

“He’s still out there. We’ll have to walk a regular pace, turn immediately, so we won’t stand out and he shouldn’t notice us,”

And like you’d known each other for years, you fell into step together as you made your way over to the main road. Just before turning, you stopped, held an arm out that stopped Joe and you peered around the corner.

“Okay,” you whispered, thought maybe you should wait for him to turn the other way before you’d turn the corner, but then Joe pushed your arm down and grabbed your hand, pulling you right along with him as he stepped out.

You had to take rushed little steps to keep up with him.

“Oh my God, oh my God,” you whispered, overtaken by this blissful giddiness, almost childlike, and you couldn’t help but look over your shoulder.

Shit.

You made direct eye-contact.

“Oh shit, he saw me,” your voice was high pitched, throat strained trying to keep in squeals of laughter. You could hear Joe was letting giggles escape him as you picked up pace until you were running, hands firming their grip onto each other.

“Hey!”

It served as a gunshot at a marathon. You both started bolting it down the street, dodging other pedestrians and laughing loudly as you held onto each other for dear life. You disappeared around a corner, but kept running, jumping over puddles, and dashing across streets – Joe didn’t even really check for cars, but you were flying together, and it felt like London was yours and yours alone. It didn’t matter that people were looking. They’d only get to see you for a second anyway.

Completely out of breath with the early beginnings of stabbing pain in your side, you said, “Wait, no, this way,” and pulled Joe around a corner, straight into the entrance of a pub.

In the small little hallway that the two of you filled out completely, you took a moment to catch your breath. With thumping hearts you panted, finally let go of each other's hands and smiled at each other with open mouths.

Then Joe's phone rang in his pocket, and it made Joe groan immediately.

“Turn that off,” you said, pushing the double swinging door that lead inside.

Joe showed you who was calling, like the name Alex was meant to mean something to you. Then laughed as he declined it and swiftly moved on to do as he was told, turning his phone off.

Moving inside, the place was comfortably busy. Nothing insane, still lots of seats left, but also not empty. You didn't draw immediate attention from everyone, which was good. Great, actually. Joe'd never been to this place before. Neither had you.

“So,” you started, still not fully back to breathing normally. “As a bird that's just broken out of its cage and has flown down south, how strong of a drink are we talking here?”

“I'll do a pint,” a sensible choice.

“One pint for the bird. Coming up,”

Joe watched as you stepped towards the bar, and he realised he was left a little mesmerized. There was something about you... oh man, he was in a lot of trouble. Joe could only imagine the kind of voicemail messages he was being left right this second. But seeing you lean over the bar to order drinks, there was no way Joe was going to back out. Also you kept calling him a bird, and it was unexpected, but Joe sort of liked it. It worked at something in his stomach, which he tried to ignore for the time being.

When was the last time Joe'd gone somewhere without knowing where he'd eventually end up? Or how he was going to get home?

It had been too long, honestly.

Everything had all been wrapped up in work. Sure, there were parties. There were parties all the time. But it was always networking and careful selection of who he spoke with, even when he got a friend or two to tag along. It was always drinks inside, photographs with girls who'd been waiting outside.

And Joe didn't want to disappoint. He didn't want to tell people no, especially not fans. It kind of became safer to just stay inside. Be alone in his own home, where there were no expectations and the only person he could disappoint was himself.

Now he was in a random little pub where no one even really looked at him, cared about him, knew who he was or wanted something from him. Except, you definitely knew who he was. Hadn't kept that a secret at all. But somehow, that was fine...

What was it...? What was it about you? You kind of pulled him in and it was... exciting. Strange, too. This definitely had potential to all be a massive mistake, but so exciting. So fun.

Joe stepped closer, heard you order two pints and interjected. “Should we get a quick shot in as well?”

You turned, looked him in the eye and grinned. Oh, it was going to be that kind of an evening, huh? You kind of understood. Those people at Joe's table had all been talking at him at once, and you'd eyed Joe as he hadn't really given them more than quick one-word answers.

Joe needed an escape. You'd given him a physical one and now the drink would provide him with a mental one.

You understood. But, even if you hadn't, you still would've been game. Who were you kidding? Who the fuck was going to say no to shots with Joe Quinn?

“And two... tequila?” You asked, and Joe smiled, nodded. “Two tequila shots, please.”

---

The Taglisted: 

@ghostinthebackofyourhead @dirtyeddietini @jasminearondottir @josephquinned @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @munsonsgirl71 @alana4610 @emmamooney @sadbitchfangirl @thatonefan-girl @paola-carter @figmentofquinn @haylaansmi @thewondernanazombie @munsonmunster @kellysimagines @mybffjoe @chaoticgood-munson @harringtonfan4 @sherrylyn628 @bdpst-massacre @05secondsofsexgods @lovelyblueness @adoreyouusugar @nadixq @prozacandnicotine @munsonswhore86 @alwayslindie @thefemininemystiquee @hauntingbastille @eddie-joe-munson @ali-in-w0nderland @pepperstories @phyllosilicate-s @thebellenouvelle @luvrsbian @joesquinns @choke-me-joey @alizztor @thelostmoonofpooosh @did-it-work @capricornrisingsstuff @quinnsbower @frogers @kennedy-brooke @daleyeahson @eddielives1986

(taglist currently full, sorry)

[neonghostlights]

A/N: We'll Meet Again by Vera Lynn is used in this chapter. I actually love that song even though it's kind of creepy. It fits the vibes. Also, I promise we get more Eddie interactions in the next chapter.

Summary: You haven’t been the same since you woke up in the hospital with memory loss after the earthquake hit Hawkins. When strange things start happening and you feel like you’ve started losing your mind, a group of strangers offer to help. Even though you’ve never met them before, they seem to know you better than you think.

Warnings: Doctors, Weight loss/loss of appetite/food, Psychiatrist/Discussion of Readers Mental Health, Overbearing Parent, Nightmares, Blood, If I missed anything please let me know, Not proofread, 18 + only, Minors DNI

Word Count: 2.7k

Eddie Munson x Fem reader

Series Masterlist

Part Three

Monday, September 1st, 1986

The pounding on your front door matched the rhythmic pounding in your head. You hopped off your spot on the kitchen counter where you had been nursing your mug full of coffee to open the door for your mother. As the door opened you could see her standing on the doorstep with a frown etched across her face.

You followed her eyes as they trailed from your hair down to your shoes. Your mother always did this thing since the quake where she observed you, mentally making notes of what was off or changed since the last time she had seen you. You were pretty certain she probably kept a journal detailing how you looked or acted each time she saw you so she could go back and compare notes.

The soft hum of the engine came from her car still running in the driveway. The sky was cloudy and gray behind her, teasing the possibility of rain.

“Your clothes look looser,” your mom said as her eyes did another critical pass over you.

“Goodmorning, Mother. Happy to see you too on this beautiful morning,” you remarked sarcastically as you waved your arms at the cloudy world behind her. You turned to leave her at the open door as you took one last sip of your coffee and grabbed your bag off the couch.

“I’m serious,” she called after you. “Have you been eating?”

You huffed as you walked out the front door and closed it behind you. She stood over your shoulder as you locked the door. “Yes, I’ve been eating.”

It wasn’t a lie. You had been eating. But definitely not as much as you used to. It wasn’t something you had done on purpose. Food just didn’t hold much appeal after the first initial bites. Honestly, you hadn’t even thought much about your food intake or weight until you noticed the way your clothes started to fit now. Everyday you promised yourself that you would eat more just to push it off onto the next day. You should have known your mom would notice.

Your mother pursed her lips as she observed you climbing into the passenger seat of her car. The car that she has had for three years yet still had that new car smell.

“I have a good feeling about this new doctor,” she stated matter of factly as she started the car and reversed from the driveway.

You gave a half hearted hum before she continued. “I mean, he’s supposed to be the best neurologist in the Indianapolis area.”

“Do you really mean that or are you saying that because you know his parents?” you asked with an eye roll.

Your mom took a deep breath but didn’t say anything else as you reached over and turned on the radio. It was going to be a long car ride to Indianapolis.

The exam room was sterile and white. You currently sat on the exam table in the center of the room. The thin protective paper underneath you crinkled with each impatient swing of your legs.

Visiting the neurologist always made you nervous. You were always a little medical mystery that no one wanted to take the time to solve. The doctors in the hospital had made it seem like it was a cut and dry case of a head injury. But every time you’ve been to the doctor recently they seem to either not know or not care enough to dig deeper into why you weren’t getting better.

Hence why your mother had weaseled you into this new doctor's practice. She really did care and wanted to see you improve. Her way of showing it was just different than what you would expect.

“Can you please sit still and act your age?” your mother wrinkled her nose at the now ripped paper underneath your thighs.

“Sorry. I’m just nervous,” you muttered.

Her face softened at your admittance. It wasn’t often you admitted that your health worried you. You were usually the one brushing things off or always claiming that things were okay.

A loud knock sounded from the closed door before the doctor made his entrance.

Dr. Coleman was younger than you had expected. His charming smile when he walked into the room practically made your mother swoon from her chair.

You fought back the urge to gag.

“Well, hello there,” he said as he took your mother's hand.

“When Connie told me her son was a hot shot doctor I couldn’t believe it! Thank you so much for getting us in so soon!” She exclaimed.

“No problem at all,” he said before he turned to you. “And you must be my patient. Nice to meet you,” he said as he reached his hand out to you. You didn’t miss the way his tone softened greatly when he spoke to you. Like he was trying not to spook a wild animal.

You sent a quick nod as a greeting before he sat in a circular rolling chair and started to pull papers from the file he held under his arm.

“I looked over all of your records from the hospital and your previous doctor. I’m honestly very surprised with what I found,” he remarked. “But before we get into that, how are you feeling lately? What symptoms are you experiencing?”

You cleared your throat, not wanting to answer this question in front of your mom. You could only imagine the drama it would cause if you asked her to leave, plus having to deal with the interrogation on the ride home to Hawkins.

“Well, I'm still having daily headaches, memory loss, nightmares, and nosebleeds. I’ve recently noticed a lack of appetite and I think that’s made me lose some weight. Also, I think I’m having hallucinations.”

Your mothers head snapped to look at you. Dr. Coleman nodded like he wasn’t surprised.

“What kind of hallucinations?” The doctor asked as he read over your chart again.

You tried to swallow, your throat suddenly feeling very dry under your mothers glare. “Uh, well seeing things, hearing things, feeling things like I’m dreaming but I’m awake the whole time. And then I wake up and everything is normal.”

“Mhm,” he hummed as clicked off the overhead light and rolled closer in his chair and shined a bright light into your eyes, making you jump. He gave you an apologetic smile as he continued to look at your eyes and then moved on to using his cold hands to awkwardly palpate around your skull.

“Well, I think I have an idea of what might be going on,” he rolled back away from you and turned the light back on. He grabbed some prints of what looked like blurry pictures of a brain and held them in front of you and your mother so you could both see. The pictures were hard to see with the way he was holding them and you couldn’t really tell what you were looking at.

“These are some copies of your last brain scan and your first brain scan from the hospital when you first came in. I looked over the originals intensely and there’s one thing I noticed between the two of them. There’s no sign of any brain damage or injury in either of these. I’m looking at a perfectly healthy brain in both scans.”

“So what does that mean?” your mother asked as she put a hand to her own head.

“It means I think the initial diagnosis in the hospital was wrong. Looking at your records nothing indicated that you had hurt your head besides loss of consciousness, memory loss, and a headache. It’s my professional opinion that what you’re experiencing is psychiatric in nature, not physical. I have a list of great psychiatrists in the area that I think will be very beneficial for you.”

The room started to spin as you worked harder to get air in and out of your lungs. “I am not crazy,” you gritted out.

Your mother gasped at your tone. “I’m not saying you’re crazy,” the doctor said calmly. “It’s not unusual for ladies your age to feel a lot of pressure and stress, especially with some of the recent events around Hawkins. Perhaps the earthquake or some other event was a breaking point for your stress. The psychiatrists on this list should be able to find the right medication to help you.” He handed the list to your mother who was teary eyed and nodding along to every word he said.

“I am not stressed or under pressure. I hit my head in a freak accident. That’s it.” You jumped down from the table, ready to make your escape from the room.

“I know this is hard to hear. But physically the scans are telling me a different story. I wish you both the best of luck,” he said as he backed out of the room and shut the door behind him.

You didn’t spare your mom another glance as you stomped out of the office and into her car.

She stayed quiet as well for the majority of the ride home, sensing that you weren’t in the mood to talk. As you got closer to Hawkins, her need to say what was on her mind won.

“I’ll call in the morning and make you an appointment with one of the doctors on the list,” she said quietly, probably hoping you wouldn’t hear her.

“You can do that but that doesn’t mean I’ll go,” you snapped back. Your mom probably didn’t deserve your attitude, you were acting more like a fifteen year old than a twenty year old but you couldn’t bring yourself to feel bad. You knew you weren’t crazy like that stupid doctor had suggested.

Your mom took a deep breath before she spoke again. “I don’t see how it would hurt to get another perspective.”

She didn’t get it. She didn’t understand what it felt like to feel like this everyday. It was one thing to think of yourself as crazy, but to hear it from another person was too much. It made it too real. From not remembering certain things to the comments that Miss Joan had made in the grocery store that day, it felt like you were being left out of something. All of that on top of the fact that your mom had never actually told you how you ended up in the hospital made you suspicious.

“I’ll go if you tell me what happened to me during the earthquake,” you offered.

“What do you mean? We’ve talked about this before,” she said quickly.

You shook your head. “No, every time I ask any questions you change the subject. I just want to know where I was when it happened. Did you see me get hurt? How did I get to the hospital?”

She puckered her lips like she was physically stopping herself from saying anything damning. When the silence stretched for too long and it became clear that she wouldn’t be saying anything, you took matters into your own hands.

You smacked your hands against the dashboard, ignoring the sharp stinging in your palms. “God damnit, Mom! Just tell me!”

The car suddenly braked, causing you to jolt in your seat before it veered sharply to the side of the road. A passing car horn could be heard as someone honked at your mothers sudden maneuvers.

She sat staring straight ahead once the car was stopped and the flashers were on. Both her hands rested perfectly still against the wheel.

When she finally spoke it startled you. “I don’t know what happened to you. I was out of town for work and I got a call that you were in the hospital. When I asked what happened he said-“ She stopped herself abruptly, clamping her teeth together quickly.

“He who?” You demanded.

“I misspoke,” she said as she put the car back in gear and pulled out onto the road again. “Let's go get you something to eat before I take you home.”

You didn’t ask anymore questions for the rest of the day. If you were going to get any answers, you were going to have to go about it a different way.

You hesitantly walked into the office of your new psychiatrist.

The room was bleach white from the walls to the chairs, giving it a cold clinical feeling. Two chairs sat in the center of the room separated by a low coffee table. The coffee table housed a container of tissues, and oddly enough a record player.

You assumed that maybe the psychiatrist liked to use music during his sessions. You think you have heard before that music helps access certain parts of the brain. You don’t remember where you’ve learned that from.

You sit in the smaller chair that you assumed was designated for patients and place your forearms against the armrest, attempting to get comfortable as you wait for the doctor to arrive for your appointment.

You're surprised when you hear a slight crackling as the record player starts to play.

We’ll meet again

Don’t know where, don’t know when

The haunting tune unsettles you slightly as you shift in your seat, turning to face the door in hopes that it would make the doctor arrive faster.

“Well, hello there,” a man's voice said suddenly. You nearly jumped out of your seat when you realized the chair across from you was no longer empty.

In it sat a man wearing a white collared button down shirt, tucked neatly into white pants. His choice of outfit nearly made him blend in with the rest of his office. His blonde hair was styled and gelled perfectly on the top of his head.

But I know we’ll meet again

Some sunny day

He must be the doctor.

He gives you a kind smile full of bleach white teeth. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He’s soft spoken and sounds kind. You immediately feel comfortable in his presence.

“It’s okay,” you croak out. “I’ve been a little jumpy lately.”

His smile widens at that. “So I’ve heard. How else have you been feeling lately?”

You cleared your throat as you glanced back down at the record player that was still playing. You launched into the usual rundown of your symptoms. “Headaches, nosebleeds, nightmares-”

“No, no, no. Not your symptoms. Your feelings. How do you feel?”

Keep smiling through

Just like you always do

‘Til the blue skies drive the dark clouds

Far away

Your mouth was suddenly dry as you tried to think of an answer for him. “Um, tired, upset, confused, a little scared sometimes…”

“Guilty?” He interjected.

You tilted your head at him in confusion. “Why would I feel guilty?”

“He got hurt because of you. He was trying to protect you. Don’t you remember?” The psychiatrist's voice started to change. Gone was the soft spoken tone. His voice sounded deeper and distorted, making your hair stand on end.

You shook your head wildly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He let out a deep laugh. “The sooner you stop fighting then the sooner your suffering will all be over.”

Large black vines slithered out from under your chair, wrapping around your arms and pinning you into place. You thrashed against them in an attempt to get free but the more you moved the tighter they held you.

You watched in horror as the skin peeled off of his face and his hair melted away. Revealing disfigured skin of a monster. His once kind looking blue eyes were now cloudy and reptilian as he examined you like prey.

So will you, please, say hello

To the folks that I know?

Tell them I won’t be long

The walls of the office started to peel and drop away, leaving you in the middle of the world that you had only seen in your nightmares. Red flashes of lightning struck in the distance, Screeching of monsters echoed throughout the space.

You pulled against your restraints in another feeble attempt to free yourself.

The monster leaned in closer. “Don’t worry. We’ll meet again.”

You woke from your nightmare abruptly as you thrashed against the blankets. Blood dripped down your chin as it ran from your nose. You didn’t bother to wipe it away as you tried to catch your breath.

Maybe the doctor was right. Maybe you were crazy.

Taglist: (* means your tag would not work)

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@sweetmariihs2

[tornrose24]

After finishing rewatching all of The Ghost and Molly Mcgee, these are my thoughts.

I think this is the one time in who knows how many years I’ve been invested in something that came from Disney. I haven’t seen this kind of passion project in a long time and sadly I don’t know if I’ll ever see that magic again for awhile, considering how Disney itself has suffered with many poor choices.

As for the show, a lot hits different when you know how it ends. Certain moments become a lot more meaningful with that knowledge.

I’d say first season was the better of the two. There was far more at stake and the story was building up to its climax in numerous ways compared to season two. The threat of The Chairman and the discovering of the duo’s friendship is very much felt in more episodes compared to Jinx.

Scratch’s character development is really noticeable in season 1, but in a way Molly’s is as well, given how one learns to open up and learn kindness and optimism while the other also needs to learn to open up in other ways, as well as grow into the wise, yet still optimistic teenager she becomes at the end of the show.

Season two… the stakes aren’t as great here. As stated by others, the Chens are overall not given much as a threat for season 2, and Jinx is used too sparingly so the penultimate season does feel a bit rushed. I honestly would have taken out some episodes from this season and replaced them with ones that could have addressed this, especially had the creators known they’d only get two seasons. Though of course they did not when starting out and it’s surreal to think that–had things gone right–we’d be waiting for season 3 right now.

However, I’m still sticking to my initial thoughts regarding ‘The End.’ I still don’t think it was necessary for Scratch to forget Molly.

The first problem is that this plot point is already one a lot of us are familiar with (I’ve seen it quite a lot in my case). Doctor Who used it (before it got changed), Spiderman No Way Home used it to a painful extreme, and Gravity Falls temporarily used it in its own finale. There’s a novel called ‘Just like Heaven’ that is a more romantic version of TGAMM, and it ended with memory loss as well (though the movie has a happier ending). I feel sad, but I also feel angry, which leads to my second problem.

Molly and Scratch’s friendship is the heart of this show. We were entertained and moved by it, as well as how far they would go for each other. So when Scratch forgets, we feel Molly’s pain as observers to her and Scratch’s story. We want Scratch to live his life as a human, and we wanted him to go out and see the world, but he should NOT have had to forget Molly in exchange. I know we always have to say goodbye and that there are some people who were special to us that we might/will never see again, but dear lord, being forgotten is a certain type of pain that hurts even worse. 

Rewatching/remembering certain scenes is now more painful, knowing now that Scratch will forget them. Him saying that he’d hate to forget Molly was too cruel. When I was getting cloer to revisiting ‘The End’ I was feeling reluctance to continue on, and not just because I was almost done with the re-watching. When Scratch merged back with his body and the screen turned to white, I had to fight the urge to shut the episode down and pretend things went differently. That’s how much it hurts when it’s not just a casual viewing. I know these characters ultimately belong to someone else, but I wouldn’t want to put them through that kind of suffering.

Had I been in charge of the show, but kept the idea of ‘taking risks is what makes if worth living,’ I would have used one of two different endings. One where its the same, but Scratch remembers Molly. The other would have been a time skip, when Scratch returned to Brighton with Adia and he reunited with Molly who is a little older but is still the girl he knew.

But… I do appreciate the small ray of hope that was given. That Scratch’s behavior as a human and certain use of words–as well as calling Molly by name despite supposedly never hearing it before-fuels a lot of hope that one day Scratch will remember and he will reunite with Molly one day. That even a few writers proposed a reunion story where Molly hugging Scratch would trigger his memories to come back gives me hope that there's still a possibility in that story. (If anyone tells me I'm stupid to be thinking those things, please don't because I care about those characters THAT much.)

Until then, we have aus, what ifs, and fan fics to fix that.

So… I don’t know when I’ll rewatch the whole show again, given the emotional toll. I’ll still revisit some episodes and scenes. But I’m grateful that Disney allowed this show to exist–it deserved more love and attention. If this had to be the very last good thing to ever come out of Disney, I’ll take it.

[asshlyyyy]

Fairytale

Series Warnings: Language, fake relationship, lying, drinking, major depressive disorder, mommy issues. Mentions of occasionally sexula interactions/ wording. Maybe eventual smut. Individual chapter warnings will appear as needed.

Masterlist | Next Part

Chapter 1: Maid of Honor

Message from Jess at 10:23 AM Hey, Y/n! The girls and I are getting together for some brunch today! There's a chair with your name on it! Your response at 10:26 AM God, that sounds amazing! Just that my boyfriend and I already have plans for lunch :( Message from Jess at 10:28 AM That's okay! We have to meet up soon! I miss you girly! Your response at 10:30 AM I miss you too :(

Sometimes you felt bad doing all this lying, but it wasn't like it was harming anyone. You just didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings. Truth was... you couldn't find the motive to leave your house. Sure, it seemed unhealthy not to want to leave your home. However, you honestly just... you couldn't bare it. So, you made up the excuse that you had a boyfriend. But Y/n, don't you have a job? Of course, you had a job. You were just lucky enough to work from home.

You often times blamed it on your major depressive disorder. Now, it has calmed down over the years since you were first diagnosed with it. However, every day it still felt like a chain that kept you home. The only times you left were when your sister forced you out of the house. She couldn't always do that though. She lived in a different state, and honestly, you didn't blame her. California could get a bit crazy. Especially with all of these wannabe influencers. 

With that being said. You used the boyfriend excuse plenty of times. In fact, you pretty much lost count. Now, this is a very normal excuse, especially when you have plans already with them... So, no one would question it. Yet, the only issue was... it was all a lie. You didn't have a boyfriend. Like hell! You couldn't even leave your damn house. How in hell would you get a boyfriend? Exactly, you couldn't.

Four years ago you hit the darkest moment of your life. The lowest of the low, and you kept it to yourself. You only really felt happy with you were with your family members. Four years is how long you've been using that goddamn excuse. You were diagnosed three and a half years ago. You went to your doctor, who sent you to a therapist who gave you the news. You met with them about once a week. So... once a week for three and a half years. That's... four times a month... which is forty-eight times a year... then 144 for three years... Plus twenty-four... that's... you've met with your therapist so far 168 times. 

The major question is... did it help? Yes, for the most part, it did. For the most part, you knew that you had to work on it yourself. Which you have been. Your therapist suggested making a video diary a week. Sitting down and just going over everything that happened that week and how you felt. It was nice, and they held their home on your laptop. You haven't... you haven't reached that sense of content enough to go back and watch them. 

As you stepped out of your shower, you wrapped a towel around your body. You had to make a video diary today, and you knew that you should wait till the end of the day... But the start of the week was Sunday, and so was the end of the week. You always recorded these things on Sundays... it just... it just worked. You grabbed a free towel and started to dry your hair, as the familiar tone of your ringer went off. 

With curiosity in your mind, you made your way over to your bedroom where your phone rested. Flipping it over you heard your sister's name and smiled. You answered the phone and quickly put it on speaker.

"Is that Amelia Mignonette Grimaldi Thermopolis Renaldo princess and heir to the throne of Genovia?" You teased as you answered the call. You could hear your sister's laugh from the other end. You smiled and pressed forward with drying your hair. 

"Right, Y/n," she continued to laugh, "I have a question for you."

"Hit me," you encouraged her to go on. You looked in the mirror at your messy wet hair and tossed the towel into your bathroom. You'll pick that up once you're off the call. 

"So, as you know I'm getting married in a couple of months. Three months exactly, and this may be last minute... But I have a huge huge huge question." She reminded you. Ah yes, your sister met her fiance Nicholas... yes you heard that right. He may very much be Nicholas Deveraux. You were very much all for Mia and Nicholas ending up together in that movie. 

"Yes, of course, you would never forgive me if I forgot." You reminded her as you started to dig through your drawers. You just needed your comfy sweats and long-sleeved crewneck.

"I wanted to ask... if you could be my maid of honor...?" You gasped lightly and ran to your phone.

"No way! I would love to!" You heard your sister eeeee at your response. You found yourself joining her as you picked up the phone and pressed it against her ear. "I would be honored."

"This is great news, Y/n! Oh my gosh, oh! And bring your boyfriend! Everyone is dying to meet him, and not to mention... Nic would be very honored if he would be his best man." Your mouth gapped open, and your eyes widened. Did you hear that right? Someone wanted your imaginary boyfriend to be their best man?

"B-best man? I-I mean aren't they supposed to be a relative or a friend? Not a complete stranger?" You struggled to get your words out. Well, you struggled in general. You felt your heart just about to stop at any moment.

"Well, Nic and I talked, and we knew you would find a way to excuse your boyfriend from coming... This way, we knew he would feel bad. So, yes... Nic wants your boyfriend as his best man." She explained. This was that moment you were scared of. The moment that would give out you... This was the moment. FUCK.

"Okay yeah... that works... Yeah... When do we have to be there?" You asked. You were honestly hoping she would say a week before the wedding. Because then that would give you plenty of time to find someone to be your fake boyfriend. 

"Well, I want your help during this whole time... And I know you work from home so that's amazing. Maybe in a week or two? Bring your boyfriend as well. We all need to get to know him, and this is the perfect time to do it." With every word that came out of her mouth, the more you felt a weight on your chest. It got harder to breathe and honestly all you wanted to do... was... well... you wanted to disappear.

"R-right well... I will see you then... Bye! Love you!" And you quickly hung up. You placed your phone down and immediately got under your sheets. You pulled them up and over your head and closed your eyes. Think of a better place. A place where you never made the boyfriend excuse. A place where you are happy... Go there... Go there. 

Now, your sister always brought you happiness. She never pushed you or even laid out her troubles on you. Your brother was the same way. Your family was a very caring and loving family. They also respected everyone's privacy. So, when it came to them finding out about your boyfriend... They didn't push. They pushed a few times, but that's because you never even gave them a name. You couldn't even think of a name for your imaginary boyfriend! Maybe it was because you knew this would happen.

Yet, every holiday... they would ask you to bring your boyfriend. You would always decline and say that he couldn't make it due to prior engagements... or that he was simply sick. You never shared anything more about your said boyfriend. Sure, it looked a bit suspicious... but they respected you and you appreciated that. 

After you found yourself, you got out of your bed. You made your bed and moved over to your desk. You sat down with a huff and lifted open your laptop. You pulled open the video recorder and started to record. You picked at your nails and bit at them, a habit you picked up on. It wasn't that it was out of nerves... it was more or less... it was your fidget.

"I received some bad news today... Well, bad for me..." You let out a breath and turned to look into the camera. You never spoke about your 'boyfriend' on a video before. Your therapist was the only one who would see these, so it wasn't like you were showing it to all your friends and family.

"As you know, my sister Mia got engaged a while back and she asked me to be her maid of honor. I was... well... I was honored," you chuckled lightly at your terrible joke. "Which is great news, don't get me wrong... but... she and her fiance, Nic, have decided to have my boyfriend as the best man."

"I never spoke about him before and it's quite literally because he is a lie. I made him up four years ago as an excuse to get out of things. And, I just kept using that excuse over and over again that everyone thinks I have this mysterious boyfriend that I don't like talking about." You started to ramble on.

"I'm supposed to leave in a week or two with my boyfriend to go back home. The only problem is... I have no boyfriend. So, now what? I ask my male friends, whom I have used the very same excuse on. No. It just wouldn't work. I made this excuse up so that I wouldn't have to explain to my friends why I don't want to hang out." You pulled out your phone and started to look through your contacts.

"Mike is gay... and has had the excuse used on him. Liam, John, Cody, some of these guys are just taken. Yet, I have all used the same excuse on. There's just no way I could ring one up and explain to them why I lied to them and all our friends." You paused as your eyes found a name that you haven't spoken to in a long time. 

Austin Butler. You first met him when you first moved to California. He was the absolute kindest man you have ever met. He was actually your neighbor who lived right across the hall. You two haven't spoken in a long time. In fact, over four years ago, so in theory... You have never used the boyfriend excuse on him. Then again... sparking up a conversation with him after so long would be weird... What if he had a girlfriend? He had one when you met him... What makes you think he isn't in that same relationship?

"Austin Butler... he's one I haven't used it on... He's one I haven't talked to in so long... I mean... Hell... I don't even know what happened between us. It wasn't like it was some big falling out. We just got busy, and we stopped texting... stopped calling, and eventually, we stopped hanging out." You started to speak aloud. 

"I moved to California a little over six years ago. I was just twenty-one... I had just gotten a job as a physiological criminal analyst. Which, is a job I still have today. I've talked about it a bit, but... I basically analyze people. See, why they have committed the crimes. I listen to tapes, and I read transcripts. All work is easy to do remotely. If there is a big case, then I have to go in person and meet with them personally. You catch the drift."

"Austin lived right across the hall from me. We met the first day I was moving in, and he offered to help carry my things to my apartment. He is such a nice guy. We got everything inside, we had some water and talked. I learned that he is an actor. We exchanged numbers and he left. We started to text continuously, and eventually, I met his girlfriend Vanessa. She seemed very nice, and honestly... God, she was hot. I may be straight, but I can appreciate a woman when I see one."

"He moved out roughly... a year and a half after we met. We still talked after he met, but without that... running into each other in the halls... we talked less and less as time went on. Till we eventually stopped talking. I thought about texting him a bit afterward, but all thought of that left the door soon after. I don't know, it just wouldn't feel right to text him just because I need him for a favor. It just sounds wrong."

You placed your phone down on the desk and looked out your floor-to-ceiling window. You let out a breath and thought about what you could do. Maybe you could just tell the truth... but that would just mess up your sister's wedding. Your fake boyfriend is supposed to be the best man. If there is no fake boyfriend, then there is no best man. 

"Do you think someone on Tinder would be willing to go along with it?" You asked no one in particular. You knew the chances of that were very slim unless you somehow found the right guy... but you also knew that you were going to have to kiss this said fake boyfriend. So, it had to be someone you knew and were comfortable with, but goddamn you really did not want to both Austin. You turned back towards the camera and smiled softly.

"Besides this whole deal happening just now... my week was fine, and I need to go. I only have so long until I have to figure this out." You said and ended the recording. You titled it the day's date and sent it off to your therapist. You closed the laptop and picked up your phone once more. 

You stood up and pulled up Austin's contact. You took a big gulp and pressed the call button. You placed it against your ear and stood up. You wrapped your arm around yourself and started to walk around the apartment. The pacing was something that... somehow eased you. Yes, quite weird, but you felt that if you kept moving nothing could affect you as much. Not to mention, you felt like curling up in a ball and crying. You didn't even know if Austin still had your number... it is very likely he would've just deleted it and forgotten all about you.

"Y/n?" You heard his voice. You felt your body stiffen. You weren't exactly expecting him to pick up. Let alone remember you!

"Austin... hey."

Mutual Taglist: @darlinboypresley, @emmymaehereeeeee, @venus-haze, @austinstyles

[alexthefly]

Snakes on a Thunderbird

For @godsliltippy for TAG MiniBang 2023 (@tagminibang)

Inspired by this adorable piece of Fishtank art here. (@tippystreasurebox)

Trigger warning for snakes. Also brief mention of animal neglect, plus some minor whump and peril.

As Virgil went through his post-flight checks, Gordon twisted and revelled in the several satisfying pops his back made. 

“Oh god, that is so much better! Want me to crack yours for ya, Virg?”

There was a grumble of disapproval from his right. 

“I’ll pass thanks. Hearing yours was an experience in itself. In fact…” 

His brother reached over and snagged the small metal box Gordon had been carrying on his lap. 

“...perhaps I’d better take that before you do yourself any more damage.”

Gordon rolled his eyes and snatched the box back with perhaps just a little too much snap.

“Right Virgil(!) ‘Cos hauling passengers and crates off of a sinking ship was fine, but this last hundred yards to the rescue centre is where things gets really tricky(!)”

The rescue hadn’t really been all that bad physically. The crates in question had been lighter than expected, though that was because apparently properly feeding the various animals inside had clearly not been much of a priority for the smugglers on board; about as high as safety and ship maintenance had been. And although Gordon’s back was definitely starting to twinge a bit now, he’d have been a lot happier to be a lot achier if it meant those poor creatures had been treated right.

Well, whatever. He’d stayed professional. …Mostly. That Johnny hadn’t mentioned his little brother's prolonged blue streak ricocheting over the comms was likely a sign that he’d felt the same way.

The fact the GDF were already briefed and waiting with an arrest warrant the second they’d touched down was probably another one.

A yellow light broke through his thoughts and dragged him back to the present. He batted the medi-scan away with a grunt.

“Would you quit it, Virg? I’m fine.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

Gordon opened his mouth, ready to deliver a witty yet devastating retort, but then thought wiser of it. Better to just let the big guy get it all out of his system. He'd only worry otherwise, and a worried Virgil was a pain in the backside, especially with the flight home and debrief to get through. He closed his mouth and submitted to the inevitable with a huff.

Virgil for his part stayed quiet too as he completed the scan; once it was done, he continued to look Gordon over with the practised eye of both a medic and a big brother.

“Well, Doctor Virgil? Are you done? Can we go now?”

Another moment of scrutiny. Then: 

“You know today was a good day, right?”

Dammit. The big green angst-detector strikes again.

Gordon really didn’t want to talk about it now.

“Whatever you say, bro.”

“I mean it,” Virgil insisted. “You’ve said it yourself - this shelter is the best. They've got the facilities and the expertise; they’ll take good care of all these guys, big and small. And the GDF will make sure the people that did this get what's coming to them."

“Uh-huh.”

"Gordy, the good guys won. Take the win.”

Honestly it didn’t feel like a win. Not even a tiny one. The memory of all those sad little eyes was too raw. It was going to take a lot for it to fade into the background, and he just didn't have the energy right now. All he wanted was to get everything unloaded, go home, swim ‘til he couldn't think anymore and then crawl into bed and sleep for 12 hours.

"Virg, could we please do the pep talk another time? The shelter staff are waiting for us."

A little frown appeared on his brother's brow, but he sighed and nodded.

"Are they all okay in there?” Virgil asked instead, nodding at the box balancing on Gordon’s dashboard. 

It was an obvious change of subject, but a welcome one. Gordon gave the portable incubator a protective little pat.

“Should be. I candled them earlier and they look good. Not pipped yet, but I think it should be soon.”

He blinked as a sudden thought occurred.

“Actually," he said as he opened the incubator lid and retrieved the covered tray inside, "I’m just gonna check they’ve not been turned mid-flight. I’ve been holding them steady the whole way over, but you never know.”

“I thought you were supposed to turn eggs?” said Virgil with a hint of confusion. He leaned across to watch what Gordon was doing. "Grandpa said it stopped the embryo getting stuck."

“That’s for birds. Snakes are different. All the little veins and stuff are fragile; you flip the egg, the umbilical cord tears away and they die.” 

Gordon gingerly lifted the lid and peered inside. 

"Of course, these guys are almost ready to hatch so I don’t know how much of that appli-”

But the rest of his thought died on his tongue as he lifted the lid and took a look inside.

A beat.

“What?”

“Erm, not sure. Hang on a sec…” Gordon gently slid the eggs to one side of the tray and running his gloved hands very carefully in the sandy substrate below.

"Where are you?" he muttered softly.

"Where's what?" Virgil quickly jumped to his feet, unease radiating from every pore.

"One of the eggs must have hatched in transit," explained Gordon, still rifling through the soft gravel, looking for any flash of movement. "Once the shell breaks they usually take a few hours to come out, but I guess with all the jiggling…"

"Okay, so presumably there should be a snake in there then. Where’s the snake, Gordon?!"

Gordon kept digging, slightly more urgently. 

"Some snakes bury themselves down into the substrate after hatching - it’s a kinda protection thing. They wait there for their first shed, then they come out looking for food."

Virgil reached out gingerly over Gordon's shoulder and picked up the soft and clearly empty egg shell, complete with a neat split down the middle. He held it softly in his hands, turning it over and over as if he might find the wayward snake still clinging to it somewhere.

"Exactly what sort of snakes are these, Gordy?" he asked slowly, deliberately.

"Umm…”

“Gordon!”

“I don’t know! I’m not a snake expert, and you can only tell so much from just the eggshell anyway.” 

He set the tray onto the dashboard and started checking inside the incubator itself, just in case. He could feel heat starting to rise across his cheeks.

“Gords, could it be… poisonous?”

Gordon swallowed back the sour taste in his mouth.

“I don’t know.”

There was a moment of horrible silence as those words sunk in. Of course, the chances of the snake being venomous were slim - only about 10-15% of known species were after all - and in any event their uniforms were designed to withstand pretty much anything, but there was still that tiny sliver of doubt in his mind. Was Brains far-sighted enough to have considered snake fangs as a variable during the testing phase?

Virgil took a step back, eyes darting everywhere, and tapped his wrist controller. 

“I’m not picking anything up. John? Any chance you could run a sweep of the cockpit for… uh… unusual heat signatures?”

“Unusual?” 

John’s projected image leapt out of the dashboard holo’ right in front of Gordon’s face, causing him to almost fall off his chair. 

“What sort of unusual?”

Virgil cleared his throat in a far-too-obviously guilty way. 

“We’ve kind of… misplaced something.”

“O-kaaay… What sort of something?”

Gordon opened his mouth to say… Actually he wasn’t sure what he was going to say, but in any case Virgil got there first.

“Can you just do it please, John?” he asked, brow furrowed. "Now?"

The look John shot them both could have stripped paint, but he turned away and started swiping.

“No unusual readings found,” he said after a few seconds. "Perhaps if I knew what I was looking for…”

Gordon caught Virgil’s eye. Despite his obvious concern about the situation, the big chonk was clearly still trying to cover for him. 

He really was the softest marshmallow.

But as touched as he was, right now the most important thing wasn't avoiding blame; it was finding the snake before anyone got hurt, including the creature itself. There would be time to wriggle out of Scott and John’s inevitable lecture later.

“The signal’s likely very subtle,” he said, drawing John's attention. “He’s cold-blooded, so his core temperature’s gonna be mirroring the immediate environment. Look at components a little below body temperature and check for tiny, unexplained fluctuations.”

“Cold-bl… You lost a reptile?!”

“A snake,” clarified Virgil.

There was a moment while John processed this new information, then he closed his eyes and pinched the top of his nose. 

“Of course it's a snake(!)” He sighed. “EOS? Did you catch all that?”

EOS’s voice rang through clear over the comms. “Yes, John. Checking now…”

“In the meantime,” said John, “I suggest you put your helmets back on, just to be safe. The less exposed skin you two have the better.”

The brothers nodded. 

Gordon set the incubator down and grabbed his helmet from the dash in front of him, just as EOS brought up a schematic of the cockpit onto the screen in front of him.

“There’s a slight irregularity in temperature around the co-pilot’s control panel, but it’s too indistinct to pin down to a specific component.”

Gordon’s eyes darted all over the dashboard in front of him. 

Where?

Scrabbling to push his chair back and get his helmet on, he vaguely heard Virgil say something about lifting the main cover off the console before he was suddenly distracted by a sharp, stabbing pain in his right cheek, just above the jaw.

“Yeow!”

Virgil was by his side immediately, mediscanner in hand. “What?! What is it?”

Gordon remained in his chair, sitting stock still.

"Don’ scan.”

"What?"

"Don' scan. Th' noise'll scare 'im."

Virgil's eyes went wide.

"Where is it?" he whispered, looking him up and down.

“I’z on m’ face."

“What?!?”

“On. M’. Face. W’z inside th’ helmet.”

Virgil and John exchanged a panicked look.

…Yep.

By rights, Gordon should have been scared. After all, there was a chance he could die here; the little danger-noodle might be pumping deadly venom into him by the second. But surprisingly he wasn’t overly worried about that possibility just now. In fact he felt strangely calm and clear-headed. What was done was done after all, and the priority now was to a) not do anything to make the snake strike again (him or Virgil); and b) get it secured.

“Ah’m gonna slowly r’move th’ helmet," he mumbled, trying not to move his mouth too much. "When y’ see ‘im, grab ‘im c’refully b’hind th’ head an’ unhook ‘im.”

Keeping his head stock still, he looked sidelong at his big brother to check he’d understood. Poor Virg looked pale, but he nodded and shifted into position in front of him, mouth set in a grim line. Behind him, John's face was a picture of worry.

“R'dy?” Gordon asked. 

Virgil nodded, hands poised.

He gave a little blink in lieu of a smile. “Okay."

Deep breath.

"One. Two. ‘Hree.”

And slowly he took off his helmet.

Virgil reached forwards and closed his hand next to his face. Gordon's skin pulled painfully for a moment, then released, leaving a sharp echo across his cheek.  

He exhaled in a big whoosh that seemed to come from his very soul, and raised his eyes to finally look on the thing that had bitten him.

“Scanning for a species match now,” said John urgently as Virgil stepped back, holding the offending creature out at arm’s length. “Cross-matching size, markings and-”

“It’s a Children’s Python!”

“A what?” Virgil asked roughly.

John took a massive breath in. “Oh thank god! Are you sure?”

“Certain,” replied Gordon, finding his feet and bouncing over to look a bit closer, all concern for his safety gone. “We had one as a class pet in 5th grade. Native to Northern Australia. Fantastic pets.”

“I can confirm the identification, John” said EOS. “The species is non-venomous.”

All the remaining colour drained from Virgil's face. He lowered himself down shakily into his chair, arm still outstretched. “Well in that case would someone please come and take this thing out of my hand before I have a heart attack?”

“Oops! Yep, give me one second…” 

Gordon grabbed the tray of eggs and fished out a roll of electrical tape from one of his console drawers. 

“This should keep the lid secure until we can get him into the shelter, at least.”

Gordon reached out and gently took hold of the little snake, who had stopped thrashing around and instead seemed content to curl its body gently around his hand. He took a second to admire its beautiful mottled markings in light and dark brown, and the gentle undulation of muscles pulsing as it moved.

"Hey, little guy."

The tiny snake flicked its tongue at him, tasting the air.

Slowly, gently, Gordon encouraged the snake back in the tray, extracted his hand, and then put the lid on and taped it down.

As soon as the tray was closed, John seemed to deflate like he was the one who’d been punctured.

“Please, for the love of god, don’t ever scare me like that again, okay guys? My cortisol levels can't take it."

"Take it easy John," soothed Virgil as he stumbled over to examine Gordon's cheek. "You sit back and have a float and we'll finish up here." 

He took Gordon by the chin and turned his face to the side. 

"...C'mon Blofeld, let's get you cleaned up."

…

Fifteen minutes later and sporting a natty Baby Shark band-aid on his cheek, Gordon skipped across the animal shelter car park towards the front desk. Alongside him, Virgil carried the now-definitely-sealed incubator. (Gordon had argued it was his privilege as 'the walking wounded’ not to have to carry stuff. Virgil had just rolled his eyes and agreed, muttering something about checking for himself to ensure no more 'jailbreaks'.)

Behind them, a dozen or so vets and other volunteers were unloading the various other crates of animals from Two's hold, checking them over and directing them to their respective enclosures.

Gordon grinned.

"Feeling better now?" asked Virgil, quirking a smile in reply.

He was, in more ways than one. Somehow, staring into the face of that tiny serpent had made him feel a lot more positive about everything. Nature really was amazing. If a baby creature, just out of its egg, could survive and protect itself in a hostile environment like that little one had today, then with a little bit of care he was sure the other animals they'd rescued would as well.

Life was good. He had his health, he had his family, and they’d done good today. 

Suddenly overcome with happiness, he couldn’t help doing a little jumping air punch, earning a low chuckle from his left.

"You were right, Virg. Today really was a win.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow at him. "Not sure I'd quite describe it that way, but if you say so. You did still set a snake loose in my ‘bird, though.”

“Hey, don't blame me! I'm as much a victim as you are. Little Hissy Houdini's a force all of his own.”

A pause. “You named him?”

“Yep! Kinda fitting, don’t you think?”

Virgil’s eyes narrowed. 

"You’re not keeping him.”

Gordon gasped dramatically. 

“Virgil Tracy, I am shocked! I would never-”

“Sully the Gully, Puppy Longstocking, Razorbill Bob, the Swift Family Robinson…”

“...again. Never again.”

“Well that’s just as well then, because I don’t think Scott would appreciate finding this little escapologist in his sock drawer, do you?"

As Gordon contemplated all of the delicious trickster-y possibilities that that image brought up, he stretched and gave his back another series of cracks.

Virgil regarded him coolly. "You sound like a goddamn popcorn maker," he grumbled. "Speaking of, I wonder if the others'd be up for a movie night tonight? I feel like we've earned a bit of down time."

"Sounds good to me," said Gordon, flinging an arm around the big man's shoulders. "And I have the perfect one in mind… You like Samuel L Jackson films, right?"

[an-angel-in-the-garden]

Hello! Can I request sniper reader?

As in, she can aim really well, and has a gun instead of a sword. So before the enemies know where she is, he shoots them and kills them, basically really strong.

Can the reader be against to Aizen even though Aizen wants her on his team? Maybe she can be the one who starts flirting with him first (Aka Dom) :"")?

Honestly I had a bit of trouble thinking of how to make this work. I'm not super used to writing for characters like that so I had my lovely friend @bird-brained-plague-doctor help me out! Thanks Birdie~ Also she/her will be used for reader though nothing major will be mentioned

You'd known Aizen since he was captain and like many others you looked up to his strength and kindness. You met mostly by chance, after all working for the stealth force meant you hardly worked alongside the other soul reapers. It was odd that someone like him would be wandering around the Rukan district for seemingly no reason. Yet that was also the start of something sweet. It became routine for him to meet you there, you'd sit down and enjoy tea together or just talk about anything and everything for hours. It was easy to see why so many liked him and it seemed like perhaps he liked you as well....oh how sadly right you were.

Aizen's betrayal, when you look back on it, should have been expected. He and Gin were clearly planning something though you'd never expect someone like Tosen would have been involved as well. The offer that came with Aizen leaving though was the most unexpected. " Come with me my dear and become my queen. Together we could rule over everyone." Hard to believe yeah but so easy to turn down. " Ha! As if I would join you. I was dumb enough to think you cared then let alone now. Next time we cross paths I'll make sure my shot doesn't miss." The smile on his face was impossible to miss but the fact that it made your heart skip a beat was something you could never let anyone know of.

The next time you saw Aizen was in the human world. Having been put there as another line of defense you'd hadn't expected to see him again so soon. Just like you promised up from your high vantage point you take aim. A few steady breaths and moments of focus before you pull the trigger. It's a perfect shot, aimed right between the eyes but without even blinking he's gone and the bullet lodged into the tree behind him. " Now now there's no need to be so feisty my dear markman. You should know better than that." Maybe it's because it had been so long since you heard his voice or maybe it's because you never got over him but the flutter in your stomach is just another reason to push him back. That was the day it began, yet another game of cat and mouse.

Though you had started as the mouse it doesn't last long after the first reunion

Aizen wants to play but he prefers dragging things out, that ends up working in your favor

After the first time it's easy to forget what you're meant to be doing that really you should be trying to kill him or at least telling your captain about things but you don't

This becomes your secret just a special thing only the two of you have and you fully intend to run the game

It starts small and simple maybe a compliment here and there as you "try to kill him" something he could brush off as you attempting to throw him off his game

It escalates from there as you close the distance from time to time with soft words and confidant flirtations this really starts to get to him

Aizan didn't think you'd be the one to make a move after all you rejected his offer so he'd assumed you'd being starting from square one again

Each reminder of how you see him, every compliant or pickup line digs under his skin until he can't ignore the way heart speeds up even Espada notice he seems flushed after meeting with you

Of course he's gonna fight back, he's going to try and make you just as embarrassed and head over heels for him but never back down

Don't stop flirting and leading this dance, keep him on his toes and watch him melt

One day you might even get him wrapped around your pinky, willing to bow down and worship you in his own messed up way

Thank you for reading! Lifes been pretty hectic so I'm glad I was able to get this out. With any luck I'll also post two things in October for you all. Anyway I hope you enjoyed my take on this. Have a good day or night!~ Lilly

[ilwinsgarden]

My thoughts on and impressions of the latest Doctor Who specials and Power of the Doctor

So I finally watched everything so I've thought I could write it down here in case someone would like to read it and... whatever. So let's get into it, shall we?

I watched the Power of the Doctor as the last one (actually just now finished watching it) and I'm really glad I did it but I'll write about it at the end as well (or should I make a separate post?), so first the so-called anniversary specials. First of all, I wasn't happy about that thing with David Tennant (i.e. regenerating into David Tennant). Not that I'd think something like "this couldn't happen" or something like that (honestly with everything that did happen in Doctor Who so far, there's basically nothing that couldn't happen. It's just things that some people would like more and some less), it's just... not fair? Also it feels more like a special episode for Red Nose and not a regular one(s). Anyway, I still watched it (partly because of the fact that the Doctor became Disney princess and I happen to have Disney+ so I could watch Doctor Who as easily as snap of the fingers.) and I enjoyed it more than I expected. No, no excitement, no hopping in joy, but still generally enjoyed watching. However there still were things that bugged me like: -despite the Doctor looking like Tenth Doctor, everyone suddenly magically knew that it's regeneration after Thirteen. How?? -Donna said she forgot again everything that she knew from that TimeLord part in her, but she (and Rose as well) knew that the Doctor was a woman before. How? (by the way this whole thing that the part of Time Lord that was in Donna (and then Rose) all the years was still in connection with the Doctor somehow so it "knew" what was happening to the Doctor... eh. Doesn't sound right to me either, sorry). -moving to second special and Donna's shouting when Tardis abandoned them on the spaceship. (this is something I already complained about in a short post before) She remembered travelling with the Doctor, so she knew what could go wrong (everything) and how often (basically everytime), yet she insisted she would like to go in the Tardis and do the short trip and when something went wrong she immediately went crazy, shouting and demanding she has to go back home. Seriously, Donna? %/ - I mentioned earlier that regenerating Thirteen back into Tenth Doctor (sorry, he's just the same, he's not Fourteenth to me. It would make somewhat sense if he looked the same (except age obviously) but acted differently.) felt unfair to me and even more when he didn't regenerate but divided himself (and the Tardis), like... eh, no, not fair. Which brings us to the special with Celestial Toymaker. I was looking forward to it and curious because Celestial Toymaker is one of my favourite classic who stories so I was curious how he'd be in NuWho. I liked him (though I didn't quite get why he had that sort of a German accent??) and rather enjoyed the episode. Except for that "regeneration" thing at the end of course as I already said. Anyway the biggest complaint I would have about the specials is that for me they didn't feel like anniversary specials. Moreover 70th anniversary. Not even one of them.

Now probably a few words to the Christmas special and first look at the new Doctor. He seems good (like... good for the Doctor. As the Doctor. Doctor-y.) and I think I'll enjoy watching his episodes. As for Ruby... I'm not sure. She somehow seems very similar to other previous Doctor Who companions like Rose (Tyler) or Clara. You know, like... yes, it's a different actor and looks more or less different but somehow doesn't differ that much. I didn't think of it when watching, but when thought of it now I think I figured out why I wasn't excited about her. It's not that I didn't like her, I just... don't care about her. But we'll see when we see her (them both) in more episodes I guess? Probably.

And now I finally got to Thirteenth's regeneration story - Power of the Doctor. I finally gained courage today to watch it (because I love Thirteen, I don't want to see her go, right?) and I'm really, really glad that I watched it after all the specials, because this - to me - felt much more like an anniversary special than all the Tenant specials together. I didn't like to see Thirteen go but otherwise, I LOVED it. Of course I knew there's gonna be Ace and Tegan but didn't know how much. And I didn't avoid spoilers so I caught there's gonna be more "old familiar faces" but didn't search for the details and also partly forgot about it. So seeing the previous old Doctors made me smile (and drop a tear), seeing Tegan and Ace in action was so brilliant, and that therapeutic session at the end? Top-notch. Can we have a spin-off out of this? However that anniversary feeling wasn't because of seeing all the old familiar faces, but how it was put in the story and how it all was done and just... it was great and wonderful and I really really loved it.

And that's probably all I wanted to say. If you read the whole thing, congratulations and you're welcome to leave a comment... no? OK, never mind. Good night! (it's 22.27 here)

[fangirlingfromdownunder]

Fleeting Comfort

Summary - Part 9 in the Comfort series

Pairing - Dean Winchester x Reader, Reader x Sam (platonic)

Warnings - angst, mentions of pregnancy

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

A/N - G’day guys, I know you guys are desperate to find out the results. Sorry, for making you wait, but I promise you’ll find out today! I hope you enjoy!

You and Dean walk into the clinic hand-in-hand with a comforting sense of deja vu falling over you. As you take a seat in the waiting room you lean over to place a feather-light kiss on Dean’s cheek. 

“Are we really ready for this?”

“Honestly? Probably not. But we’ll figure it out. I’m here for you, every step of the way.”

“Thanks, Dean.”

He wraps an arm around you pulling you close until the doctor calls your name. Even when you stand, Dean doesn’t remove his arm. You sit in the doctor’s office as she brings up the test result files on the computer and prints them out. 

“Good morning, how are you both today?”

“Anxious to find out what that paper says?” Dean says.

“Of course, of course. Well, I won’t keep you waiting any longer; congratulations the blood test came back positive. You’re pregnant.”

You’re completely speechless as you look at Dean, squeezing his hand in yours in an attempt to ground yourself and convince yourself that it’s all real.

“Going by what we discussed last time as well as the hCG levels in your test I’d say you’re approximately six weeks along. We generally send for the first ultrasound around eight or nine weeks, so we can get that all booked for you today.”

"Could we do one earlier?” you ask.

“We can do one today for you if you’d like, but there likely won’t be too much development to see yet. At this stage it will still be an embryo, over the next few weeks it will develop into a fetus and then you’ll actually be able to see some more defining babylike features.”

“I understand. We can wait a few weeks then,” you say. 

“We’ll get that all booked for you before you leave then. Do you have any other questions? Anything else you’d like to know?”

“Just any advice you can give us would be great. Honestly, I never expected to be in this position, Doc. So, just anything you can tell us. What can I do to help my beautiful fiance here through this? What should she be doing?” Dean asks.

“Of course. Well, honestly dad this is a job that only mom can do,” she says looking at you. “The best you can do is just support her and let her tell you what she needs. And don’t hold back on him; pregnancy is highly rewarding but you have already seen the tip of how painful and draining it can be, so make use of your slave here. Don’t let him get off too easy,” she adds, winking at you. “As for other advice, you said you’re managing your first-trimester symptoms well so that’s the biggest thing. Staying away from any foods that trigger you, especially limiting your caffeine intake, and cutting out alcohol. Other than that, and this is in no way meant to scare you but in the first 12 weeks, you are at the highest risk of miscarriage. Now, it’s unlikely that anything will happen but it’s best to just take things easy and be aware of any abnormal changes or vaginal bleeding. Light exercise is fine, as is intercourse but avoid anything that might cause trauma to your abdomen and try to keep your stress levels low. As your pregnancy continues we can discuss birthing options and vitamins and such, but for now, just keep doing what you’re doing. And I’ll see you in a few weeks for the ultrasound.”

“Thanks, Doc. We really appreciate it,” Dean says.

“I wish you both all the best in this new chapter of your lives. I’ll see you in a few weeks.”

You and Dean slowly stand up and make your way back out to reception to pay the bill and book the ultrasound.

On your way home you continue the tradition of picking up baked goods, except this time you decide to get a little something to celebrate and let Sammy in on the news – even though you know he already suspects it, you want to confirm it. But without ordering in advance you have to pick from what’s in the window, so you end up buying a single-tier chocolate cake and a ‘Baby on Board’ plastic decal to stick on top. 

When you return to the bunker, Sam sits at the war table behind a stack of lore books and his laptop. You place the cake on the table where there’s space and insert the decal. 

“I know there’s been a lot of strong feelings around here recently and a lack of communication. I promise that that is going to stop today. And it’s going to start with this cake,” you state.

Sam looks up and takes in the words on the cake. “So, we’re finally discussing this now? You finally took a test? Dean knows?”

“I took two, and yes it’s been confirmed with the doctor with Dean present. Your suspicions were right and you were right about Dean’s reaction; he’s been nothing but supportive, and maybe a little overcautious, but can you blame him? How many other hunters do you know of that actually get to have this reality?” you say as Dean joins you, placing three plates, forks and a knife beside the cake.

Sam nods. “Congratulations you two, seriously! I am really happy for you. And Dean, I’m sorry about this morn-”

“This here,” Dean says gesturing at the cake, “is the only chick-flick moment. My girl here is the only one that gets those. So, that is in the past, we’re good.”

Sam nods as you cut and serve the cake. You and Sam dig in quietly, while Dean mumbles how pie is still better.

“Who’s carrying this baby?” you ask teasingly. 

“Oh, uh…This cake is delicious,” Dean quickly adds.

“That’s what I thought.” You smile and shake your head at him. You love light, happy moments like this, they don’t come as often as you’d like with the life you share. There is usually some monster to kill or an apocalypse to fight. But with your little surprise miracle on the way you hope that your lives will change soon. You know Dean would love to live an apple pie life with you, but you also know that he’ll always be a hunter – it’s all he’s ever known.

Dean stands and comes over to take your empty plate and the cake to the kitchen, but first, he leans down to kiss your head. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

“Just the future…us…the possibilities, the realities.”

“One step at a time, remember. We’re going to figure all of this out together,” he lifts your left hand to his lips kissing your ring, “I made a promise and I intend to keep it.”

You nod slowly as you take a book from Sam’s pile, “I need a distraction, what are we researching?”

Desperate to avoid dreaded research, Dean quickly gathers the dishes and cake and makes his way to the kitchen. 

“Don’t you have more important things to think about, like the nursery or baby names or…”

“Sam, I have eight months to think about that. And I wouldn’t even know where to start with any of that. So please, just let me focus on something that I actually can do.”

“Alright. Well, I’m trying to find out more information about the demon tablet. If you’re gonna bring my niece or nephew into this world in eight months then we’re on a deadline to banish them back to hell and if we can send the angels back to heaven at the same time then that’s even better.”

“Maybe once we do that, you can also go out and find yourself a lady and have your own family. But what are the chances we really pull this off, Sam?”

“The three of us and Bobby, we can handle anything. And now, we’re more motivated than ever. Speaking of, have you and Dean told Bobby yet?”

“Not yet. This still feels like a bad idea. How can I bring a child into a world full of demons and douchebag angels? And if I tell many people and they find out…they’ll try and take it, just because it has Winchester blood running through its veins. Maybe I should have asked the doctor if it’s too late to consider abortion…”

“No way. I can see how badly you both want this, we’ll work it out. You and Dean are strong, you can do this.”

“By keeping it we’re being selfish. As a mother, it’s my job to protect my child and do what’s best and I can’t do that. So, I shouldn’t be having one. It can never be tortured or hurt if it’s never born…”

As the words leave your lips you hear heavy footsteps retreating followed by a door slamming. You turn around quickly.

“I told you, you both want this baby. I see your fears, but you can’t make a decision like this alone or out of fear. And for the record, I think it would be the wrong decision; you and Dean will figure this out, and you’ll be great parents.”

You nod before getting up to chase after your fiance. You knock softly on the door of your shared bedroom. When you don’t get a response you open it slowly. 

“Dean, honey, we need to talk about what you heard…what I said.”

“What’s there to talk about? You sound like you’ve already talked it all through with Sam. Besides, you’ve said it yourself, we were drunk when we conceived it was an accident and it never should have happened.”

“I haven’t talked everything through with Sam...”

“You do, I heard him earlier, ‘You finally took a test? Dean knows?’ How long has he known? You told me he didn’t know? You would barely let me bring it up, but you have no problem discussing it all with him?”

“It’s not what you think. He suspected since the proposal. He put the idea in my head. But I always denied it! I came clean with you first! I took the test with you! I love you, Dean!” 

“And the thought of aborting our baby…you never mentioned that to me but you talk to Sam? I get it’s your body, your choice and wherever, but I just thought we were a team…So, what is it? Is it because he’s smarter? Or is it just that you don’t want to discuss this with me?”

You walk closer to where Dean’s sitting on the floor next to the bed and kneel beside him. You reach for his hand but he jerks away. Your eyes fill with tears. “It’s none of that. You’ve been so excited and happy, and I love seeing you like that. I didn’t want to ruin that with my fears or thoughts.”

“So, you’d rather abort the baby and rip my heart out that way instead? I don’t think I’ve ever asked much of you, but please you need to talk to me! This! This is exactly why I always kept myself shut off! I always told knew this was a bad idea!”

“This?”

“Us! A long-term relationship! One-night stands can’t hurt you; there are no expectations. No secrets. No heartbreak.”

“Dean…please. Don’t say that. Can we talk about this please?”

“Now you wanna talk? No. Do what you want with the baby, you always know best,” Dean says coldly as he stands up.

“Please, Dean. Don’t do this! Don’t walk out on us!”

“I love you, and I always will. But I need some time,” he says as he walks out shutting the door behind him.

A loud sob escapes your body as you collapse on the floor in tears. You wrap your arms around your stomach protectively.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

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