#See TJ has someone in his corner

[butchjess]

can’t believe that i have to point this out to people (in general, not you) but jess never starts fights. i mean, sure, he mouths off and he’s sarcastic and very very good at pissing people off, but he’s never the guy that throws the first punch. not with that jerk in season 2 who he warns to back off. not with dean, even when he tries to pick a fight on thanksgiving. not even in keg max after rory comes crying down the stairs. and maybe it’s just cause he’s 5’8” and a small scrappy guy, but he clearly has the power to land a solid punch, he just never ever punches first and i love that about him.

YES!!! it's actually so funny he never throws the first punch he just is an instigator purely by being bitchy and snarky and then he immediately gets hit. even the smallest things he does makes rory's bfs so unreasonably mad (WAVING at dean in the inn, taking the trash out, working at the diner, writing a BOOK). logan tries to do this to him in Balalaikas but he SEES through the bait okay he settles for a bitchy comment and then removes himself from the situation like his theoretical therapist probably told him to do. and he always has a reason to be in a fight with someone too, he's either defending himself or the guy he's fighting is being a jerk. like with TJ he tackles him but it's out of an instinctual reaction to probably being pushed around by liz's boyfriends in the past since it's implied she didn't exactly date the greatest guys nor did she care how jess felt about them. in general jess + violence is very interesting to me bc he's scrappy in the sense that he's used to getting in physical altercations with people and also because he acts like a cornered animal in a way that makes me to stick him with needles and look into his brain. What happened to you boy Why are you so prickly as a self defense mechanism. like for some reason jess just cannot help himself he HAS to say something and poke the bear he's that painting of the jester on top of a wall mocking a pack of dogs trying to kill him except he falls off the wall every time. Slay little boy honestly

jess + violence thesis personally i think he was justified in every single one of these you shouldn't be punished for being a little shit if you're objectively funny about it

[funkymbtifiction]

Hi! How do you tell apart 1's need to be perfect and just perfectionism that can be found in all types (or at least, I assume that all types can be perfectionistic)?

All can be, but not everyone is a perfectionist, no. If they were, we wouldn't have misspelled signs, overgrown bushes at street corners, and trash blowing around the highway. If we were all perfectionists, the movies and television shows would be a lot better. Ahem.

On a somewhat related note, do you think that people tend to confuse perfectionism and a fear of failure? What even is perfectionism at this point?

Perfectionism in an Enneagram sense, specific to 1-ness, is being Right and not being caught being Wrong. Over-thinking in terms of how to make things Correct and Properly Done. It is refusing to allow someone else to load your dishwasher, because they do it WRONG. It's rigidity in body and sometimes in mind. Anger being the automatic reaction to a world/situation/person that is Imperfect, has room for improvement, and it's the 1s job to nudge them to fix themselves. And yes, I think perfectionist is used too liberally, though it can also be used as an excuse to procrastinate since the person using it will feel a need to make it Perfect.

I noticed that the majority of people I know describe themselves as perfectionists but what they really mean is "I don't dare to start thing X because the outcome won't be perfect on the first try, therefore I won't ever start". To me it almost has a 3-ish element because when I picture perfectionism, it's more of a matter of perfecting yourself through blood and tears to come closer the "the vision".

Yeah, that does sound like 3 in the sense that they want to do it right (and impress everyone) on the first try; but 3s are also incredibly hard-working toward their goals and so they may not want to bother with anything they aren't good at quickly since it would take time and effort away from the things they already are naturally gifted at.

And also, it's interesting to see that those so-called perfectionists are so sensitive to the harsh reality, and are unable to swallow the reality of a situation they are in. They prefer to wallow in self-pity and delusions that they world is mean towards them, and that the world has wronged them.

I think this is a victim of "everyone is a winner" society more than type-related; by over-protecting kids, previous generations have lead them to expect life to be a lot easier than it is, so they go into it vastly unprepared and are shocked by the harsh reality that the people who apply themselves the most, are smarter than other people, and work harder (and who know people) are going to succeed more than those who don't. But it's easier to blame others/the world for being a rough place than it is to try harder.

It's also sad that you can't really straight up tell people that the reason they failed is that they are not good enough yet at thing X and that they need to try harder. I know it sounds really harsh and heartless (I often wonder why can't I just feel sorry for my friends instead of dissecting their failures and coming up with a strategy to improve their mess) but I just don't get this whole "feeling sorry" for themselves thing. Wouldn't a perfectionist even allow such emotion with a first place? I would assume it would rather be anger or agitation directed at themselves rather than the outside/pity towards themselves. 

A true perfectionist -- a 1 being a competency type -- would indeed get angry at themselves for not putting in more effort, or studying harder, or knowing more as to avoid this failure. And a 3 would try hard, study hard, work hard, all while insisting it was a piece of cake (because I can't be LOOKING like this subject kicks my ass!).

I have a feeling you are a tough go-getter who doesn't like excuses and believes in hard work getting you places (high Te?). Wanting to fix the mess instead of endlessly wallowing in it isn't "bad." It's often a TJ's way of coping with a problem -- let's not be moaning about this again in six months, let's have gotten you on a better trajectory. It's also how a TJ shows affection to other people -- I care, so I am going to help you figure out a solution.

So you have never felt sorry for yourself? If so, that's wonderful! I envy that kind of commitment to not letting life get you down. But some people -- particularly emotional people -- have to dwell in self pity awhile before they dig themselves out of the hole; unfortunately, self-pity can become a habit, especially if it gains you attention and sympathy from others. Sometimes we need held while we cry and sometimes we need someone to kick us in the pants and say, "Do better." The key is to know which one to do -- when someone is at their absolute lowest isn't the time to push them, but when they are just making excuses would be an appropriate time to say, "Look, you said it's not your fault that you didn't ace this exam, but you were up all night partying six hours before the test. That's why you failed, not because the questions are hard, because you didn't try."

I think friendships/relationships are both for our enjoyment, and to make us grow as people. Sometimes we need to hear, "You didn't try hard enough. You CAN do better. Stop making excuses." But it has to be done in a loving way -- and the only way to know how that is is dependent on the individual. Some people you can never say that to, it would crush them; others can take it.

This question came out not that much really related to enneagram but I really, really want to hear what your think. Also, maybe it was asked before, but do you have a personal/unrelated to typology blog where I can read your thoughts/entries on various things? Have a great day! :) 

I blog about movies and/or writing at charitysplace.wordpress.com, and there are hundreds of my original movie reviews and links to my fiction novels at www.charitysplace.com. Thanks for asking. :)

[o5-12]

content warnings: non-descriptive implied suicide attempt, arguing, implied child abuse, codependency, and implied domestic abuse.

word count: 1690 words

note: I typed this all before realizing it isn't formatted exactly right for how the rest of the event here has been so I'm just going to say audio is visible to everyone while actual descriptions is visible to only anons!

He wished he could just shut up and do exactly what he wanted to do. He planned on spending the night out in the barn ⁠— the first of many nights, to be exact.

But as the hours began to drift by; everything just felt so different from where he normally slept. Too many noises, too much of a breeze, too much air, too much everything.

He felt almost insulted by himself as it finally became too much for him and he began to slowly wander out, closing the barn door behind him awkwardly, leaving the things back in the barn and beginning a trek in the dark back towards the house.

Jack and TJ were gone with their friends. He could spend a few hours in one of their beds. Wait till he was all tired and then come back after he was tired enough to sleep like a brick the moment he got back.

It sounded like a solid plan; even though he hated himself a little for feeling it necessary.

Mikell made his way towards the house, eyeing the various windows strewn across the exterior, looking for any lights within the old building. As he grew closer, his gaze fell on the far window on the backside of the house, the smallest glow coming from the window.

He slowed down a little, eyeing the window wearily as he crept closer, unable to gauge whether someone was up and about or if it was merely a matter of a candle having been left alight.

As he walked around the exterior of the house, he took a moment to peer briefly through the window, discreetly trying to figure out whether he was in the clear to go in or not.

He… Couldn’t see anyone. It looked like someone had just abandoned the candle on the kitchen countertop. It was quiet though. There were no cries from Claire, pacing from his mother, or shouting from his father…

He was in the clear.

Slowly, he pulled himself away from the eerie sight of the abandoned candle in the kitchen, ignoring the peculiar feeling in his gut as he began to make his way around the back of the house. Then, as he rounded the corner towards the porch, he froze in his tracks.

It was quiet inside for a reason.

He locked eyes with the man on the porch, a man that barely looked to have not even reached his forties yet with a tired expression, hunched over himself on the steps of the porch silently; the man only straightening his posture and fixing him with a stern look after spotting Mikell.

They both stared like that for a few seconds.

Mikell could run. Turn back around and go back to the barn without another word. His dad had never chased him down in the past when he’d wandered off in the middle of arguments. It wouldn’t be any different this time.

Something felt… Wrong though. It was too late in the night. He knew his dad didn’t sleep much but he’d never waited on the porch ⁠— never waited specifically for him like this before.

Slowly, forcing back the bad feeling rising in the back of his throat, Mikell lowered his gaze and made his way to the porch.

Adam [Tiredly]: Don’t go in there. Just go back to th’ barn.

Mikell stopped. So he had figured out that he was trying to spend the night in the barn...

Something felt… Really wrong.

Mikell [Putting on a calm tone to the best of his ability to mask the lie]: I just wanted to grab something. I’ll be quiet.

With that, Mikell began to ascend the stairs, doing his best to stick as close to the opposite edge of where his father was sitting as possible.

If he got in then it was unlikely Adam would randomly wake him up just to chew him our for coming home, right?...

Adam [Sighing]: I know you heard me, kid. Go back to the barn. If you tell me what you need th’n I can bring it in a few minutes.

Fuck. He left the things out.

He didn’t want his dad going to the barn. He didn’t want to risk his dad finding the things. He didn’t want to be blamed again or criticized for ‘stealing’ or shouted at or-

Mikell [A little sharply]: I’ll be quick. I won’t wake Claire up.

As Mikell said this, he sped up a little as he reached the top of the steps, determined to just get this over with and get inside before he could get chastised for being stubborn. His dad would be upset the next morning but he’d forget it. He wouldn’t forget it if he thought Mikell had ‘stolen a bunch of shit’ and hidden it inside the barn though.

As he reached for the doorknob, he had a second to register a sharp couple of creaks from the floorboards just behind him just as he was able to click the door open and begin to push it open.

He froze as a hand sharply grabbed him by the shoulder, fingers digging to his skin as it dragged him backwards, the other hand flying to the door and slamming it shut on him, effectively trapping him outside with his father.

It didn’t hurt. The slight scuffle barely lasted more than a couple of seconds. Just caught him off guard, making him jump slightly and stare back at his father.

The look that his dad was wearing was… Off.

His dad’s eyes were wide, eyebrows knit together in a mixture of frustration and familiar anger at being disobeyed but also… While difficult to see in the darkness, his eyes had a sort of an uneasy look to them. He looked sick. Kind of like he was going to keel over any second now. Like he really hadn’t been sleeping much for a long time now…

That wasn’t the only thing that Mikell registered.

As the seconds passed, he could have sworn he heard crying from inside. It didn’t sound like Claire’s though. It sounded like someone was choking out sobs between words that Mikell couldn’t quite register for a few long seconds until it sank in that what he was hearing was someone apologizing.

When the initial shock and confusion began to subside, all it was replaced with was a shaking anger and resentment at the fact that his dad was just sitting there while it sounded like his mom was hurt.

That candle in the kitchen. She must be in there. He couldn’t tell what the apologies were about or why she wasn’t trying to come find either of them for help but he knew something was wrong about this all.

Mikell: What th’ fuck is going on? What’s going on with mom-

Adam [Raising a hand defensively]: Mikell, just go back to th’ barn. Don’t do this again. Please don’t do this right now.

Mikell ignored him, stepping forward and trying to push his father away from the door. Adam immediately used the raised hand to push him back, placing a knee in front of the door and locking his arm over the handle to prevent Mikell from getting in.

Mikell fell backwards, grunting as he collided with the hard wood but quickly dragged himself back up, unable to help but shake a little from frustration.

Mikell: No. Why th’ fuck won’t you let me in there-

Adam [Hissing back at him]: Would you please stop shouting.

Mikell tried again. Throwing himself at his father and trying to shove him away from the door.

For a second or two, he thought he was actually close to knocking his dad away from the door so he could go help his mom but then-

Adam let go of the door, grabbing Mikell by the wrists and turning him around, locking his arms over Mikell’s to force him to stop trying to get through. 

Mikell started shrieking, kicking, spitting and generally trying to wring his hands free to no avail. Adam grunted at a particularly sharp elbow in the gut as he worked on dragging Mikell carefully down the steps before dropping him with much less care, causing Mikell to tumble to the ground while Adam stepped back towards the porch in an attempt to catch his breath.

Adam [Sharply]: Mikell. Please, stop. Just stop. Use that damn head of yours and breath. I need to you just breath and stop throwing a fucking tantrum, okay?

Mikell quickly pulled himself up, tempted to throw himself right back into the fight but stopping himself as he tried to listen again between catching his own breath; not to Adam – but for his mom’s crying.

The crying had… Almost completely quieted down by this point. He figured they’d both been pretty loud so she’d likely heard them… It didn’t make sense for her to quiet down if she was injured and Adam was refusing to help her. If she was hurt and needed help and wasn’t getting it then wouldn’t she be trying to yell louder once she knew Mikell was also around?

She didn’t yell louder though. He could only hear the occasional quiet sob but that was it. He couldn’t piece together what in the hell that even meant.

The only reasoning he could vaguely put together was that she didn’t want Mikell around at this moment…

Adam: Breath, kid, please... Just go out into th’ yard and take a few seconds.

Mikell didn’t want to. He wanted to shout and yell and kick at his father all the way until the moment he got through that door and finally had some sort of semblance of what the hell was going on but-...

The longer he stood there, the more Mikell felt like there was something unpleasant waiting inside that house… Something he wasn’t sure he was quite ready for yet…

He hated being treated like a kid. It almost always felt like ‘kid’ was a term used to demean him and keep him out of things others felt he wasn’t smart or strong enough for and while he originally disagreed… He wasn’t so sure this time.

Everything about this felt off.

Adam: Just-... Just go wait out by th’ street. I’ll go get Claire. You’re staying with Jack and TJ’s friends tonight-

Mikell: But I don’t know anyone there-

Adam [Tiredly]: Mikell, please don’t fight me on this… I’ll walk you there and I’ll be back in the morning when this has passed and-

Mikell: When this has passed?...

Adam fell silent for a moment before shaking his head again. Another thing that Mikell wasn’t sure he was ready for…

Mikell eyed him for a few moments before forcing himself to step back, hesitantly turning away and walking back to the road while digging his nails into the palm of his hands in frustration. 

He couldn’t tell if he was making the right decision but… He knew he didn’t want to see what was going on in that house.

With that, he kept walking until he heard a distant creaking sound, glancing back to watch his dad walk back up the steps and enter the house, closing the door behind himself carefully, leaving Mikell alone with his thoughts in the dark.

Mikell waited there silently.

Every once in a while, he'd glance up at the house or the barn, unsure if he wanted to go along with his dad's order or go run off to the barn and never enter the house again.

In the end, he chose to remain there.

After some time, the door opened again and Mikell looked up, unable to help but stare in confusion as he watched his dad.

Adam was carrying a large bin, it taking a few seconds for Mikell to recognize it as the Mikell's laundry hamper he'd been keeping in the bathroom closet for a few years now ever since getting kicked from his old room ⁠— awkwardly held in one arm with Claire balanced in the other.

Mikell blinked in confusion, making no move to step forward to help before Adam got closer, setting down the bin to carefully push Claire towards him, Mikell hesitantly taking her after getting the hint of what he wanted.

She was crying. Not all too happy about being jostled awake it seemed. He supposed he wouldn't be too happy either... He gently adjusted the blanket before confusedly looking back up to his dad.

Adam still looked... Unwell.

It wasn't like he could linger on that thought though.

Adam [Tiredly picking up the hamper again]: Come on. Lead th' way.

Mikell [Glancing back at the house]: I-...

He hesitated.

He half expected to get shouted at, criticized for being too slow or not doing what he asked but instead there was just a quiet thud as Adam set the basket back down, taking a second to catch his breath from the effort of hauling it over while using the edges of the basket to brace himself a little.

No yelling. No criticisms. Nothing.

Just his dad silently waiting for him.

Mikell stared at him for a moment before resolving that whatever was going on... It was better for him to ignore it. ...

Mikell [Mumbling]: Okay. Uh...

Adam glanced back up, looking just as tired as before for a moment before putting on that familiar scowl.

Adam [Tiredly]: Just lead th' way. I'm behind you, Mikell.

Mikell nodded, beginning to walk forward, Adam huffing as he picked up the hamper again and began following him. As they began to walk forward, a slight clicking noise could be heard from the audio.

Within a few seconds, the connection was lost.

[tendertenebrosity]

TJ and Danny, part 3

Third part, probably of 4, of my pieces set in @wildfaewhump‘s Path Verse! Other parts here and here. 

TJ sat in the little windowless room that was put aside for them to use in between court cases. There was a plain wooden table, scratched with graffiti here and there, and a few chairs with vinyl-covered padded seats.

He had his blindfold off. Compared to the cubby TJ spent his time back at the agency in, it was a strange, chaotic, worn sort of room, and he let his eyes wander over the surfaces with mild curiosity.

On the table in front of him sat a triangular packet of rigid clear plastic, with a couple of untouched sandwiches in it, and a little rectangular box of juice with a straw. He ignored the sandwiches, pulled the juice over, and took a cautious sip.

“… abso-fucking-lutely ridiculous. I know we’re short-staffed but there must be something you can do.”

TJ bit his lip and glanced over at the door. His handler had started the phone conversation attempting to be quiet, but that seemed to have been forgotten.

He turned the juice around and around in his hands, looking at the bright colours on the label. His headache had faded. His handler had left him a bottle of cold water and some paper hand towels, so he could wash his face, and that had helped a lot.

He still felt… weak. Shaky. Overflowing with other people’s emotions and memories. His stomach uneasy with fear and guilt, not sure how much of those belonged to him as opposed to being left over from other people’s.

The blinding hatred hadn’t been his, easy enough to tell because TJ was sure that he wasn’t capable of that kind of thing. Anger, not his either. The fear, there’d been enough of that in this morning’s readings, but it could also be his. Today’s readings hadn’t gone well.

I used to be good at this. I used to be able to do it. Why is it so much harder?

The conversation behind the door continued. His handler’s voice went even more gravelly, like it did when he was trying - and failing - not to lose his temper.

“Look, it’s been nothing but grisly murders and fucking nauseating assaults for two fucking weeks now. The Path’s about to go fucking cuckoo, and I won’t be far behind it, lemme tell you. If you – ”

He broke off. Whoever was on the other side of the phone call must have interrupted.

“Is it too much to ask to get, I don’t know, some fucking tax evasion or shoplifting cases? You can’t tell me every unit you have is on the non-stop murder train,” he growled. “You must have somebody doing something fucking lighter. Swap us out with them for a day or two.”

TJ sipped the juice, the taste of it sour on his tongue. He wished whoever was on the phone would agree. If TJ couldn’t go home to curl up in his cubby, a promise that the next few cases wouldn’t be violent ones would be better than nothing.  Still tiring, still difficult, he still wanted to cry at the thought. But better than nothing.

“Look, it can’t keep doing this. Apparently I’m not fucking allowed to pull the plug on a reading anymore, so what am I supposed to fucking do exactly?”  

TJ traced a finger along one of the scratched lines on the tabletop.  

“Yeah? Oh yeah? Well what about the agency’s fucking reputation when he pukes in the fucking judge’s lap, or when the journos get a nice shot of me hauling his comatose ass out of the courtroom like a sack of – ”

Silence.

“… yes. But –”

More silence.

“I understand that, but fuck it, what am I supposed to –“

The longest silence yet. TJ shivered, clutching his shoulders with his hands.

“Yes. All right. Fine,” his handler said, biting the words off through gritted teeth.

That seemed to be the end of the conversation. After a few moments, TJ heard a quiet thump on the door, like someone had hit it with the palm of their hand or maybe leaned heavily against it.

Another few moments, and then there were three much more deliberate knocking noises. “Blindfold,” his handler called through the door, but TJ was already reaching for the black cloth blindfold across the table.

He had slipped it over his head and settled it over his eyes by the time the door creaked open and his handler’s heavy footsteps entered the room. He smoothed the material across the bridge of his nose, lights dancing against the familiar black for a few seconds, and then settled his hands in front of him on the table.

The handler regarded him in silence for a few seconds. TJ fiddled with the cuff of his undershirt with his fingers, adjusting to the darkness again.

The handler sighed, pushed the plastic of the sandwich packet across the table with a scraping noise. “I told you to eat.”

“Can’t,” TJ said, knowing he sounded sulky, knowing there was nothing he could do about it. “If I eat I’ll throw up.”

“Well, if you don’t, you’ll faint,” the handler growled. His fingers closed around TJ’s wrist, picked it up roughly, shoved the plastic of the sandwich packet under his hand. “Eat the sandwich.”

He settled into the chair opposite TJ, making a lot of noise clattering it against the table as he pulled it out. TJ tried not to wince.

“At least eat half,” the handler added, his voice gentler. “C’mon. You’ll feel better. Half, and if it makes you feel worse you don’t have to eat the rest.”

TJ nodded in surrender. His fingers patted around in the plastic until he found a triangle of bread, and lifted it to his mouth.  

The sandwich was dry. But, he chewed and swallowed the small bite he’d taken, and it went down OK. The taste of ham and cheese reminded him of something – some teasing thread of memory, he wasn’t sure what. Something he’d tasted, or smelt, in the last few days? Was it…

He wrenched his mind away from it firmly. No. Probably not even his memory. Possibly not even food related, and he was queasy enough as it was without getting sucked back into thinking about the first case. He focused on the now. In the now, TJ could feel the hard edge of the chair under his thighs, and the air conditioning blowing gently, cold on the wet strands of hair at his forehead. He could hear little electronic bloops as the handler did something on his phone.

TJ paused between tiny bites of sandwich. “Head office is m-mad?” he asked timidly.

The phone clunked as it was set down on the table. “Nothing to do with you, kid,” the handler said gruffly. “Busy week. You and me, we just do the assigned cases best we can. If head office - ” He cut himself off, with a scraping noise like he’d dragged a hand across something rough.

He picked up the phone and the beeping started again. TJ reached out, and found the juice where he remembered leaving it. He ate in silence for another minute, little nibbles of bread and cheese and ham, while the airconditioning hummed.

“I’m sorry,” TJ whispered.

“What for?”

“F-fucked up today.”

He heard the puff of breath that meant his handler was either annoyed, or stifling amusement. TJ thought the latter this time. “What’d I tell you?”

“Oh. Sorry. I mean, I messed everything up.” Sandwich gone, TJ folded his arms, grasped his elbows with his hands. “I d-didn’t – I didn’t get any of the readings right, I got s-scared and had to stop, a-and I threw up everywhere and, and, and – ”

“Don’t be stupid. You didn’t fuck up, you just...” A tap-tap-tap noise – the handler drumming his fingers on the table. “Look, the readings got done, perps got put away, that’s what counts. This afternoon and tomorrow we’ll try to be neater about it, but it did get done.”

Neater. Yes. Better. TJ sighed, feeling a little reassured. He still felt a little like this was his fault, but if his handler said it wasn’t, that had to be so.

“Feel better?”

TJ considered. He didn’t feel as sick as he had expected to. It did feel good to have something in his stomach, and he felt brighter, more alert. “Yes.” His hand went out again to get the other half of sandwich.

“There, see, I do know what I’m talking about.”

[oh-obrien]

AAAH THE ONE SHOT WITH THE STOVE WAS EVERYTHING! ✨✨Could I also request something? I did feel the duel scene was a bit underwhelming, I did want some more drama tbh (and I love Anthony as well). What about a one shot Anthony x reader, where the reader accompanies Daphne and lots of more drama? Perhaps reader gets hurt, Anthony in panic, angsty and stuff..feel free to adjust

I HOPE THIS ONE IS GOOD TOO!! I took a few creative liberties with this, adjusting the events on the show to fit the request and what not. 

I’m coming off of a little bit of a migraine hangover and tbh I’m not sure how I feel about this right now on top of getting back into the swing of school. This is the first day since Friday that looking at my computer for more than twenty minutes doesn’t hurt my head so sorry it took longer than expected. 

As always if you’re not happy with this, or if you want to request anything else feel free to slide into my inbox! These requests are SUPER fun.

After Daphne’s scandalous run in with Simon in the garden the night before, Anthony had taken it upon himself to challenge his long-time friend to a duel. The ball was supppsed to be your and Anthony’s grand debut as the newest couple of the season, however, you never got your dance with the Lord, and your dance card now laid empty and forgotten on the floor of the Bridgerton study.

Your dress also laid crumpled in a ball of fabric in the corner of the room. After hearing of your and Anthony’s intentions to begin properly courting, Violet had taken you to the seamstress to get one of your gown adjusted. Genevieve Delacroix had added stunning crystals to the delicate pale green fabric. Your had had been done perfectly by the Bridgerton family’s staff and you had even agreed to wearing a small amount of makeup. However, the night of your dreams abruptly ended when Anthony interrupted your conversation with Colin to inform you both he would be taking Daphne home for the evening as she was not feeling well.

The anger pouring off the eldest Bridgerton was like nothing you had ever seen before and you couldn’t help but wonder if she had rejected the Prince’s proposal, as you knew he had to intend to propose soon, and no night seemed better. However, as Anthony dragged his sister away you couldn’t catch his or Daphne’s eye, leaving your dreams of starting a whirlwind public relationship with Anthony crushed.

You now sat on the desk in the Bridgerton study, Colin pacing around the room in front of you, his boots rhythmically hitting the floor with every step he took. “What if he kills Simon?”

“Colin-”

“What if Simon kills him?”

“Colin I don’t think that-”

“Benedict surely doesn’t want to be bothered with the social scene, does that mean the responsibility to escort all of my sisters through their season falls on me?” The boy in front of you stopped pacing and pulled on the roots of his hair, letting out a long, frustrated sigh. “I’m supposed to be traveling soon! Anthony is supposed to be the mature one, he’s supposed to know how to run the family! Not me!”

“COLIN! STOP!” You finally cut the boy off, standing up and placing both of your hands firmly on his shoulders. “Nothing is going to happen to Simon or Anthony, no one saw Simon and Daphne in that garden other than your brother so there’s nothing to hide!” You dropped your hands from Colin’s shoulder. 

“But-” both you and Colin turned to face the door of the study, Daphne standing in the doorway, her tone sombre and her head bowed towards the ground. “What if someone did see?”

You stepped away from Colin to face the eldest Bridgerton daughter, your tone changing to one of concern. “What do you mean what if someone saw,” you felt panic starting to bubble up in your chest. “Did someone see you and Simon in the garden last night?” You thought Anthony had been overreacting when he pulled yourself and Colin into the study the night before after you had helped escort Lady Bridgerton home. But if Daphne was concerned someone saw her and Simon kiss, maybe he wasn’t overreacting.

Daphne opened her mouth, as if she wanted TJ speak, before closing it again. Silence fell across the three of you before you heard Daphne gasp. “Cressida Cowper,” Daphne blurted out. “When Anthony brought me inside she stopped me and and asked if I caught a chill in the garden.” You watched Daphne’s expression change to one of concern.

“Cressida Cowper,” Colin started running a frustrated hand over his face again, “saw you and Hastings in the garden last night and Anthony, nor Hastings, know?” He took in a long breath before leering the air out through his nose.

Daphne quickly shook her head. “Colin you need to tell me where they went,” Daphne demanded. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, not finding it proper to interrupt the conversation between the siblings.

“Daphne, Hasting has, he’s done you one of the greatest dishonors,” Colin quickly shook his head, giving his sister a clearly confused look. “I’m sure you want him to pay.”

“I don’t want him to pay with his life!” Daphne’s voice grew louder and you stepped towards the sibilants again, hoping you wouldn’t have to be the one to calm their tempers so no one else in the estate would be woken.

“Well, I’m sure both Anthony and the Duke will do as gentlemen should and shoot wide,” Colin supplemented with a shrug.

You stepped between the two siblings, “besides,” you supplemented, “everyone might just think that Cressida has a grudge against you. You did take the Prince’s attention off of her, even if you don’t want to admit it.” 

Daphne, however, seemed to refuse to take no for an answer. “Colin you need to tell me where they went.” She turned to her brother again, a desperate look on her face now, “you know Anthony’s pride won’t let him shoot wide.”

Colin puffed air into his cheek, letting it out slowly before speaking. “Fine, but we’re coming with you.” 

You had been lucky enough to be able to bring your own horse with you to London, and now, racing towards the site of the duel, you were glad you had. The Bridgerton’s horses clearly had not gotten used to speeding across the hills, as they lagged slightly behind you. Years of living out in the middle of the country had given you, and your horses, the ability to adapt to all different types of terrain. Be it flooded field, rolling hills or even shoulder high grasses, your horses were able to tackle it all.

You were glad your hair, still expertly tied up from the night before, had yet to be taken out as it kept the strands from flying into your face, distracting you from the task at hand. Still slightly ahead of both Colin and Daphne you were able to make out five figures standing in a plot of open land between two beautiful trees. Anthony and Simon were back to back in the clearing, both men clutching a handgun between their hands.

“You can go faster,” you urged your horse while he pushed himself to fly faster through the tall grass field, his breath coming out in heavy puffs. Anthony and Simon began to take slow, steady steps away from each other and you held your breath, knowing you were unable to push your horse to go any faster without him hurting himself. 

Both men paused briefly before turning to face each other. Anthony pointed his gun towards Simon, while the Duke aimed towards the sky. Now, within proper distance of the ongoing duel you started to slow your horse. “Anthony!” You swung both of your legs to one side of your horse, trying to keep your balance while you did so. “Anthony stop!” Your horse slowed to nearly a stop and you let yourself slide off your horse’s back, your feet not even hitting the ground before you were running towards the two men.

“What are you doing?” Benedict practically yelled while you ran in between Anthony and the Duke. “Anthony! Anthony stop!” Benedict called when he realized you had already made up your mind. However, his call for the eldest Bridgerton to hold his fire.

Before you knew what had hit you, in both a literal and figurative sense, you felt a searing pain cut across your cheek. The bang of the gun firing didn’t reach your ears until after you had hit the ground, your left hand clutched tightly over your right cheek. Anthony and Benedict calling your name didn’t register either, especially when you pulled your hand away from your cheek and noticed it had been covered in blood.

“(Y/N),” a warm, heavy hand was placed on your shoulder and another pulled your hand away from your cheek. “The doctor needs to make you’re you’re fine, (Y/N),” Anthony’s panicked eyes met your own. However, you couldn’t focus on them with the pain in your cheek and the blood still covering your hand.

An older man crouched down next to you, pulling a medical bag up next to him and opening it before he began expecting the wound on your cheek. “The bullet just grazed her,” the doctor spoke while he began cleaning the wound, “she’s lucky.”

“Thank the heavens,” Anthony breathed out while he pressed his forehead to your temple on your unharmed side, his warm breath fanning across your cheek. “I’m so sorry,” you could hear his voice break towards the end.

“She’s perfectly fine my lord, keep the wound clean and covered and it’ll heal in absolutely no time.” You winced when you felt the doctor wipe something across your cheek, the pain flaring up momentarily before subsiding again. “I’m sure you could tell Lady Bridgerton it was a riding accident and everything would be believed. “If that’s all, and you gentlemen don’t intend on trying the duel again,” the doctor looked between Anthony and the Duke, “I’ll be going.”

Hasting and Anthony both thanked the doctor before he departed, Daphne and Simon engaged in a seemingly heated conversation along with Colin and Benedict. “(Y/N).” Anthony started, both of your hands held in one of his large ones. “I don’t-”

“I can’t right now, Anthony,” you placed a hand across your covered cheek. “I just,” you let out a frustrated sigh, “I’m questioning if your mind and your heart and in two different places at the moment.” You felt tears begin to gather in the corners of your eyes.

“(Y/N), please,” Anthony seemed to be nearly begging, tears gathered in his own eyes while you stood up. Your hands felt from his grip and you cupped his cheek with one, running your thumb along his cheek bone.

You offered the man in front of you a sad smile before you removed your hand. “I’m going to ask one of your brothers to escort me home while you and the others decide the next steps between Daph and the Duke.” He opened his mouth to speak, but you didn’t allow him to. “Once you reconsider priorities we can revisit our arrangement, but I will not be second to any other reckless endeavors you wish to engage in if we do get married.”

With that you turned from the Viscount, still on his knees in the damp morning grass, tears in his eyes and a frown on his face.

[watermelonlipstick]

Travelling Riverside Blues

This was written for @deangirl93​‘s 500 follower celebration (congrats bby!!)! I absolutely HAD to jump on one of Dean’s favorite songs. It’s fluffy and cute; I had some earlier seasons Winchesters in mind for it mostly for the lighthearted bickering. 

Title: Travelling Riverside Blues

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 1273

Summary: On the way to a case, Dean and the reader talk about Dean’s favorite song while Sam tries to finish some research. 

Warnings: swearing, fluff, brother bickering, mutual pining?

           “I think this—”

           “—Is my favorite song,” you and Sam finish in tandem, Sam’s tone a mixture of bored and annoyed and he doesn’t even look up from his book as you grin into the rearview mirror at Dean. Dean’s offense reads perfectly clearly in the sliver of his face you can see in the mirror, and the betrayed bend in his eyebrows makes you laugh out loud.

           “You say that literally every time this song comes on. Which is all the time, because it’s your favorite song.”

           “I do not,” he says defensively, flicking his gaze back to the road.

           You tip forward to rest your chin on folded forearms between the Winchesters in the front seat. You can see Sam has made pretty good progress on his notes, small spiral notebook on his lap getting quickly filled with page numbers and quotes from the old book he has balanced on his knee. “Dean, yes you do. It’s okay though, it’s a good song.”

           “Of course it’s a fucking good song, it’s Zeppelin. You know what, forget it. You guys make conversation then.”

            “I’m trying to finish this before we get there, Dean, forgive me if I’m not playing I Spy with you or whatever,” Sam says, not breaking his concentration at all by writing through the words. It’ll never stop amazing you how he can focus on two things so completely like that.

           “I’ll play I Spy with you,” you laugh, trying to keep Sam and Dean from bickering.

           “Only things I’m trying to spy are in that backseat, kid.” Dean winks up at you in the rearview mirror and it makes you flush with heat in spite of yourself.

           “You guys know I’m still here, right?” Sam murmurs, flipping a page without looking up.

            You pitch forward enough to kiss him on the cheek. “Sorry, Sam. Anyway, why is this one your favorite, Dean? Of all Zeppelin, why this one?”

            He keeps his eyes on the road for a moment, considering. “I mean, Page’s acoustic slide is unstoppable. But I don’t know, when I was a teenager I really liked that idea. A girl that’ll stick by your side no matter what, ride with you everywhere.”

           Sam finally looks up from his notes with put-on fluttering eyelashes. “But Dean, I ride with you everywhere,” he teases, earning him a dead-arm he barely acknowledges before chuckling back into his book. “Besides, I’m pretty sure this song is about a sex worker,” he adds, holding his page with his finger as he goes back to double check a reference.

             You can see Dean mouth ‘sex worker?’ in the mirror and try not to laugh again. “All good reasons. Still not as good as Misty Mountain Hop, but good reasons nonetheless.”

           “Misty Mountain Hop? Really?” Dean looks genuinely surprised from the part of his face you can see.

           You nod but don’t offer any explanation, knowing it’ll wiggle around in the back of Dean’s mind until he finds out why, and slouch into the backseat. “So when teenage Dean was imagining this rider, what was she like?”

           Dean shifts in his seat a little bit. “I don’t know, loyal, smart—”

           “Easy, jugs like Pam Anderson—” you continued for him with a devilish grin.

           Dean laughs. “Sue me for being 16. It’s not like it’s something I think about now, that’s just why it became one of my favorite songs.”

           “You don’t think about that anymore? How come?”

            Sam and Dean look back at you in tandem with the same incredulousness. You just raise your eyebrows, waiting for an answer.

           “I mean, I—now I’ve got you,” Dean says, and it’s more than a little muddled, more than a little shy.

           “Yeah, what?” Sam asks. He looks almost like he’s expecting you to say ‘kidding!’. “You’re the rider.”

            You must be looking pretty confused, because Dean clears his throat. “Planning on leaving or something?”

            “I just—you’ve never said something like that before,” you hum, a little dumbfounded.

           Sam raises his eyebrows smugly at Dean but says nothing. Dean clears his throat. “Well, ah, this is me saying something I guess. You’re—what, have you been seeing other people or something?” His gaze flicks hard up to the rearview mirror, swirling mixture of fear and anticipation in the sage green irises of his eyes.

           “No, but I haven’t—you’ve never even really technically asked me out.”

           “We’ve been fooling around for a while now—” Dean starts, pausing when he sees your disbelieving look and jerk of your chin toward Sam, who glances up.

           The smugness hasn’t left Sam’s face. “No way; if you guys make me listen to your bizarre foreplay flirting all the time then I get to hear the good stuff too. Now, would you say that this seems out of the blue because Dean could’ve communicated his feelings to you before?” He’s addressing his comment to you but won’t keep his eyes off his brother, who is furiously trying to keep from acknowledging Sam, his eyes glued to the road.

           “Yeah? I don’t know, I just didn’t get the sense that you wanted this to be like, a commitment,” you finish, feeling bashful and exposed from your eternal spot in the backseat.

            Sam can’t hold back his smirk any longer, still drilling holes into his brother with his eyes. “Gosh, Dean, if only someone had given you some advice to talk about this months ago, maybe everyone would be on the same page.” When Dean doesn’t move or say anything, Sam throws an elbow over the seat to better face you. “He’s been telling people you’re his girlfriend for months,” he tosses out, waiting a half beat to see your response.

            If Dean won’t say anything, Sam obviously seems like he’s in a chatty mood. “Seriously? Like who?”

           “Bobby, Jody, guys trying to buy you drinks—”

           “Okay, ENOUGH,” Dean barks, and Sam has to bite his lip to keep from laughing out loud. Dean looks up in the rearview mirror. “Sorry I misread the situation. I thought you wanted—”

            “I do,” you breathe from the backseat, making Dean turn around hard enough that he twists the wheel a touch and Sam has to grab it lest the car goes veering into the drainage ditch to the side of the rural highway.

           “Really?” Dean asks, eyes bright and wide with hope and half a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, still looking back at you.

           “Eyes on the road, Andretti,” you giggle, feeling the tension start to dissipate as Dean turns back to his seat with a goofy grin. “Yes, of course I do. I’ve wanted to be your girlfriend this whole time, dummy. I didn’t think you did that kind of thing, that’s the only reason I didn’t push it.”

           “Wow, it’s almost as if someone could’ve—” Sam starts again.

           This time Dean is feeling a little more charitable and only shoves Sam half-heartedly. “Yeah, whatever,” he chuckles. The bashfulness on his face makes him look impossibly young for a moment, carefree and unencumbered—happy.

           “Ah, ah!” Sam protests, raising his eyebrows expectantly with a grin.

           “You were right, okay? Jesus, Sammy, give it a rest!” Dean’s trying to seem annoyed but he can’t stop from smiling.

           The three of you sit in giggling, giddy sunlight as the car flies down the highway for a few minutes, warming yourselves from within on the vitamin D and the mood. “So I’m the rider, huh?” you ask, somewhat rhetorically. “Maybe I like this song better than Misty Mountain Hop after all.”

-

Thanks again for reading! If you liked it, check out my Masterlist or send me a request!

Tags: @sams-sass​ @vxnderlindes​ @deanwinchesterswitch​ @akshi8278​ @itsjensenanddean​ @flannellover67​ @weepingwillowphoenix​ @tj-drinks-tea​ @whatareyousearchingfordean​ @winchest09​ @winchestergirl2​ @samwisethegr8​ @nobxdy​ @nurse-sarahrn​ @lovers-in-japan-reign-of-love​ @deanwanddamons​ @stressedoutkitten​ @winchestershiresauce​ @tatted-trina6​ @percico-heronstairs​ @downanddirtydean​ @queenoftheunderdark​ @lyarr24​ @wonder-cole​ @that-one-gay-girl​ @fairlyspnfanfic​ @treat-winchesterswith-kindness​​

And as always, if you want to be on my taglist, were on the taglist and changed your handle, or I lost track of it, please let me know!

[tbtssstuff]

Not All Bad || myg

Summary: You were working at a hybrid shelter and in a desperate need for money, you take the position to take care of the rare panther hybrid. Turns out it would be a lot harder than you thought.

Pairing: Panther Hybrid!Min Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Word count: 2.6k

Masterlist

-TJ/ TacoAdmin 🌮

AN: Thank you so much for the request! I hope it was okay

Working for a hybrid shelter was rewarding in the sense of it brought you joy to help out the hybrids find a new home, but it wasn’t the best for your bills. 

You were struggling a lot so when you saw that there was an opening with a higher pay at the shelter, you applied immediately. You weren’t sure why the other guy left, but at that moment you didn’t care.

Only thing on your mind was paying your bills that were due in a week.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Y/n?”

You look up from your lunch to see Namjoon, your best work friend, standing beside your table. 

“Yeah,” You munch on your sandwich, starting to speak with food in your mouth to which Namjoon scrunches his nose at you, “This job will get me more pay, which I need, and I’m still helping hybrids, which I want to do. It’s a win win.”

“Do you even know what you will be doing?”

“No.”

Namjoon shakes his head at you, pulling the seat out to sit down. “You’re going to be looking after IT.”

You hated the term that the shelter used for the rare panther hybrid that was being kept here, but you also knew it was because it didn’t have a name. Or if he did he refused to tell anyone.

“Namjoon you know I don’t like that.”

“I know I know, but I’m worried. The last guy quit because IT- Er the panther hybrid was a handful. He was bad news Y/n.”

Gathering up all of your things, you stand and boop Namjoon on the nose, smiling when it scrunches up. “Don’t judge a book by it’s cover.” Then you turn and walk away.

“Just don’t get hurt okay!” He calls after you.

The area housing the rare black panther hybrid was broken down and honestly if he wanted he could have escaped. It was amazing that he had been here for almost ten years and still didn’t try.

It was also dark down there, like no one ever turned on the lights. It was a little depressing.

Pushing open the door to the room, you instantly reached for the light switch only to have your wrist suddenly pinned to the wall, effectively holding you in place. A warm sensation became present beside you as your registered someone was there, feeling the faint tap of a tail hitting your leg.

IT was there.

“Just what do you think you’re doing, human?” He growled. “Who are you?”

You swallowed thickly, genuinely terrified for the first time in a long while, scared of what he was planning on doing if you didn’t answer him.

“I I’m…”

The words seemed to be caught in your throat. A mouse caught by a cat.

His yellow eyes pierce into your soul, rendering you immobile. Here you thought this was going to be an easy job, but the last guy did quit for a reason.

“Well?”

“I I’m the new handler.”

“Handler? I didn’t think they would find someone to replace the last guy.” IT groans and finally releases you. “Damn it and I was hoping to have some alone time.”

You didn’t say anything as IT wondered from beside you to the corner, but you did slowly inch your way to the light switch, finally finding the courage to turn it on and for the first time not only did you see the conditions of this room, but IT as well.

First the condition of the room.

The walls were tall and pale, but there were scratch marks everywhere. The lights were flickering, which was probably why they weren’t on because they looked like they could just blow at any point so what was the point? But the thing that got you the most was that there was no furniture in the room.

No food or water station, nothing to play with (if IT even did play, but you never heard of him doing so), but most of all no place to sleep. Just a hard concrete floor.

No wonder IT was so hostile. He wasn’t given even the basic hybrid, let alone respect.

No one seemed to care about him and that alone broke your heart.

Second was him.

He looked thin and pale, contrasting greatly with his ink black hair and ears. The uniform he wore, just a simple dark gray shirt and pants that all hybrids wore in the shelter, was too small for him. It looked like a child hybrid’s outfit and it was even a little ripped around his arms and legs, presumably from him moving his arms around.

“What the fuck are you looking at? Huh?”

Your eyes snap up to his, yellow eyes once again staring into your soul, he seemed to do that a lot. Just seemed to look into everyone.

“T the room.” You manage. “It’s a little bare isn’t it? There is no food or anything, not even a bed.”

IT just shrugs, stretching out his arms and laying down on the ground.

“I like it like that.”

Why was he even talking to you? He never talked to any of the other handlers, so why did he feel instantly comforted by you? The moment he saw you he felt like that and he couldn’t stand it.

Never again would he let his guard down in front of a human.

“Oh.” Was all you could say. You felt like there was nothing else to say especially because you watched him turn over away from you, indicating he was done talking.

So just before you left IT to himself, you took his food and water that the cafeteria provided you out of your bag, along with a couple sweet treats that you snuck in, and put them all in the center of the room. You didn’t know if IT even liked sweets, but you just felt the need to bring them.

With one final look back at him, you left.

A month has passed since you started taking care of IT. Still having to call him by that because he refuses to tell you anything about him.

Every day was the same. You show up three times a day to give him breakfast, lunch, and dinner, each time leaving him a bit of candy with his dinner, and comes back one last time to gather up the dinner trash.

You were always happily surprised to see that he always ate the candy. Slowly you feel like you were getting him to warm up to you even if he never talked.

“Hey.” Opening the door you search the darkness for his yellow eyes, “I’m here to gather your trash.”

Once again you were met with silence, but after a month of this you were used to it. Basically you were just talking to yourself and hoped he listened.

“I asked them to include more meat in your food, which I’m glad they actually did this time around. It took me weeks of arguing with the lunch lady. I was actually this close to just bringing meat myself to give to you.”

You start gathering up the bowls and candy wrappings, completely unaware of the figure in the shadows moving towards you.

“What they have been feeding you for the past ten years is so not enough for a panther hybrid. They didn’t give you anything to help with your carnivorous needs, let alone for you to develop any muscle mass, which explains why you are so thin and frail.”

“Why do you care so much?”

You jump at the sound of his deep voice, instantly reaching for the lights to switch them on and was surprised to see him so close.

“W wha-”

“Why do you care? By now anyone else would have left by now, but here you are. Not only are you still here, but you continue to come at a scheduled time and fight for me to get better things, better than I ever deserve. What gives?”

Was he really asking you why you were treating him with decent kindness? Just how deprived had he been?

“I… I don’t think you are that bad. As much as you like to play the big bad cat, you just want someone to be your friend.”

IT hissed at you, roughly releasing you and backing back into his corner, glaring his yellow eyes at you.

Sighing you pick up all the wrappers you dropped when he scared you, preparing to leave.

“Yoongi.”

You stop and turn around, eyes wide. “W what did you say?”

“Yoongi.” He repeated. “It’s my name.”

Smiling, you reach from the lights again, “It’s nice to finally meet you, Yoongi.”

Little moments like that went on for the remainder of the year. Little by little Yoongi would open up to you more. Not in the sense that he would talk about his past, but he wouldn’t ignore you when you talked and would actually remember things you told him before.

He grew in muscle size and you had gotten him bigger clothes. Yoongi no longer looked like the scraggly hybrid you saw back in March.

Humming happily, you entered the employees only section of the building, getting ready to clock in for another day of talking to Yoongi. It became the best part of your day.

“Good morning Namjoon.” You greet your friend as you open up your locker, smiling at the photo of you and Yoongi hanging up. It took several weeks of whining for him to agree and it was your favorite picture, you even had it as your phone wallpaper.

You put your bag in your locker, but not before pulling out a new candy you wanted Yoongi to try. He said he was a fan of strawberry and the store where you get his candy stocked a brand new strawberry flavor. Of course you had to get it for him

“Y/n?”

.”Hmmm? What’s up Nam-”

You freeze as you see that Namjoon was looking at you with sad puppy dog eyes, something he only did when he had bad news.

“Namjoon what’s wrong? Is it bad bad? Because I really wanted to show Yoongi these candies I got him.” You lift up the bag. “See? They’re strawberry and he likes that flavor.”

“It’s actually about IT - er I mean Yoongi.”

“What about him?”

Namjoon looked away from you, scratching the back of his neck.

“Namjoon? You’re scaring me.”

“Well he’s okay I can tell you that, but he has been adopted so he is no longer here.”

“Yoongi was adopted?” Namjoon nods. “That’s… Amazing! Good for him! Do we know who? Is he nice? When did it happen?”

“Yesterday after you left work, a really rich guy came to adopt and when he was looking around he saw the sign for the rare panther sign and wanted to see him. Honestly I wanted to stop him, but this guy was so charming that I took him back. You should have seen him with Yoongi.”

“Was he nice?”

Namjoon’s eyes brighten and he nods. “He’s so nice! Like extremely nice and you could tell that Yoongi didn’t want to laugh at his jokes. In the end the nice rich guy adopted Yoongi and took him home.”

You wanted to feel happy for Yoongi and you were, but you were sad that he was gone and that you didn’t get to say goodbye.

“That’s good! Good for Yoongi. I’m happy.”

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Huh?” You blink, turning around to put the bag of candy back into your locker, “Yeah of course I am! Why wouldn’t I be? See?”

You point to your mouth, a big bright smile on your lips, but your eyes were spilling tears you weren’t aware of.

“I’m… Happy.” Your voice breaks as Namjoon wraps his arms around you, pulling you close and patting your back.

You cried in his arms for a long while. You were missing your friend and now he was gone.

“Good morning.”

Namjoon put your coffee on the table, smiling at you. Ever since Yoongi left a month ago Namjoon has been trying everything to cheer you up, Coffee, cakes, lunches, everything he can think of. Really he was the best friend that you could have wished for, but you missed Yoongi.

You haven’t heard anything from him and it’s not like you expected to, but it would have been nice. You wonder if he likes his new house. If maybe he found someone to replace you. He was always there for you, listening and giving you such good advice and you thought he would always be there, but that was a stupid fantasy. Of course he would be adopted. Who wouldn’t want an amazing hybrid like Yoongi?

You did.

You wanted him back in your life, but it seemed like you were nothing but a passing handler to him. Which wasn’t all bad because you were there to get him ready to be adopted and you did your job.

You also just didn’t expect to fall for him over the year. Everything about him you love and miss. From his fluffy hair and tail that was only fluffy once you convinced him to finally take a bath to the way he would hug you when you left. His warmth always comforted you, but now it was gone.

“Good morning.”

“Did you see the limo out front today?” Namjoon asked, opening his locker.

You shake your head, “No. There is a limo? I wonder if another rich guy is here to adopt. That’s good.”

“Always thinking about the hybrids through and through. You really are a nice person, Y/n.”

You freeze at the sound of a familiar rough voice behind you, slowly turning to see Yoongi standing cross armed in the doorway. He was dressed in a black hoodie and ripped jeans, looking nothing like he did when he was here.

Gone was shelter Yoongi, this was a new, more happier Yoongi.

“W what? Yoongi?”

“Are you never not going to stutter around me?” He chuckles.

You bolt out of your seat and over to him, wrapping him in a hug, your face hurting from smiling so much. You hadn’t smiled like that in a month.

Yoongi wrapped his arms back around your tiny frame. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you more. How are you here?”

“Well the boy wouldn’t stop moping around since I got him home and when I asked why he said it was because of a beautiful woman that he loved. He left without telling her how he felt.”

“Hoseok.” Yoongi whined and you looked to see a bright looking man in an expensive suit. This must be the rich man that adopted Yoongi. “You promised you wouldn’t say anything.”

Hoseok laughs, his mouth turning into a heart shape smile. “But if I didn't, who would?”

Yoongi sighs, turning back to you with a slight smile. “He means well, but he is right. I didn’t get to tell you, but I am in love with you. The time we spent together meant more to me than you will ever know and I hated how I left.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“It’s mine.” Hoseok pipped in.

“But I still should have said something.” Yoongi sighs, his grip on you tightening. “Hoseok said I could see you whenever I wanted if you would allow me.”

“Are you kidding?! Of course! I always always want to see you.”

Yoongi smiles big, leaning down to kiss your cheek.

“Then I will always always be around.”

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

A Place To Call Home: Dads

Summary: When the reader gets an offer to make some money on the side, things quickly evolve to Jensen learning about where some of the reader and TJ’s money has been going, namely TJ’s father. Jensen offers to help out but discovers that Rick might be up to something... 

Masterlist

Square: A Place To Call Home

Pairing: Jensen x foster daughter!reader

Word Count: 7,600ish

Warnings: language, angst (so much family angst), minor injury

A/N: Written for @supernatural-jackles​ Tell Me A Story Bingo. This part takes place after the Halloween timestamp. Enjoy!

______

“Thank you, Barry,” you said as he left the office at the brewery. Your head was still up when your dad slipped inside and he shut the door. “What’s up?”

“There’s a talent scout out in the draft room,” he said.

“Fascinating,” you said, going back to reading over a contract with a new distributor.

“Y/N they’re here to see you.” You turned in your seat and stared at him, breaking out into a giggle. “I’m serious.”

“This is by far your worst prank yet.”

“You modeled some of the new merch last week? He’s here for you,” he said.

“To what, model?” you scoffed. “No thank you.”

“Well can you go tell him that because he was insisting on hearing it from you,” he said. You sighed and walked out front, a guy in a suit with no tie on sipping from a glass. He smiled when he saw your dad behind you. 

“Ms. Ackles,” he said, holding out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“It’s Mrs. Hanover,” you said with a friendly enough smile. 

“You’re clearly used to some hard negotiations.”

“I’m tougher than I look Mr…”

“Elbridge but please call me Dan.”

“What can I do for you today, Dan?” you asked. He walked out to a quieter spot by the railing, settling at one ot the standing tables.

“I work for a talent agency, Mrs. Hanover. We’ve worked with your father a few times when he was starting out,” he said, your dad giving a nod. “We’ve seen your modeling pictures and we’re very interested in you doing a shoot.”

“I appreciate the offer but my answer is no. I’m not a model or an actress or any of the things my parents are besides someone invested in this brewery,” you said.

“She is a tough cookie,” he said as he looked at your dad. “I’m assuming you told her nothing I told you.”

“You gotta sell it on your own,” he said.

“Y/N, we’d like you to be in a commercial with some other women. An underwear commercial.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s a commercial for inclusivity for people with differences,” he said.

“He means the scar on your back, Y/N. From the accident,” said your dad.

“You’re exactly the kind of person we want included in the line. There’ll be a photo run of things too and-“

“Why exactly do you know I have a scar on my back?”

“Your Instagram. I assumed it was public knowledge.”

“Okay but it’s not even that big. Like it blends in. I’m boring. Get like, an amputee or a burn survivor. That’s inclusive. I’m average.”

“We have a vast array of women in the line including those types and all kinds of body types. But you’re...a brand name we could put to the project.”

“Brand name,” you said. He hummed and you laughed. “My dad? That’s a brand name, not me. Throw him in some underwear and I’m sure you’ll get all the attention you want.”

“Well we want you,” he said. He pulled out a business card and handed it over. “Our initial offer is on the back but we’re open to negotiations. Call us if you think you might be interested. Oh and the beer’s great.”

“Thanks,” you said, looking over the card. The guy had wandered off by the time you flipped it over.

“I told him you wouldn’t be interested,” said your dad, sipping from his bottle of water. You blinked at the card, your dad raising an eyebrow. “You’re not considering it are you?”

“Dad,” you said. You flipped the card around and showed it to him, water spitting out of his mouth.

“Hey, Dan,” he said, rushing back and waving him over. Dan smiled as he walked back, drink in his hand.

“I thought that’d-” said Dan before your dad got in his face. “Is there a problem?”

“What are you up to,” he said.

“Dad.”

“Y/N no one gets offered that much money off the street. No one. So I’m gonna ask again. What are you up to?” 

“It’s for a package deal. A photo shoot. A commercial. Ad sponsorship for three months bi-weekly on her social media accounts. We’d also like her to design the set for the commercial. There’s a time crunch of next week so we felt a hundred was a fair offer for that amount of work on short notice,” said Dan. “If she were simply modeling, we’d offer her twenty five but this is our biggest line of the year. You are more than welcome to come along every step of the way.”

“Dan I really do appreciate the offer but I’m not a model. I don’t even remember the last time I wore makeup. I will happily design a set and build if you like and maybe I can do the ad thing but I’m not a model like my parents. Can I talk to my dad for a second?”

He nodded and walked off a ways, your dad sighing.

“Maybe mom could do it or something? She’s done that stuff before,” you said.

“I’m not gonna tell you what to do. Go for the set design for sure. You’re good at it and I know you get to break back into your architecture skills for that. But the rest...once you get on that train you can’t get off.”

“Dad, people already know who I am. I have like...an obnoxious number of followers on my accounts and stuff. My most popular posts? Always about you. I’ve never been in the shadows.”

“I know but that’s different than you doing these things. If you start taking pictures in underwear, you’re gonna attract at least a few weirdos and most of them are harmless but maybe some aren’t and there is a reason that Uncle Cliff still hangs out with me at certain times.”

“It’s a hundred thousand dollars. TJ and I could pay off the lawyer fees for Allie’s adoption finally,” you said. “We could get our mortgage payment down.”

“You’ve never cared about money,” he said. You pursed your lips and he narrowed his eyes. “Are things tight?”

“Dad.”

“Are they?”

“I don’t ask about your finances.”

“I sat down with both you and TJ when you bought the house and even with the renovation costs, your monthly payment was very affordable. Allie’s adoption should have been paid off months ago.”

“Do you stalk our spending now or what?” you shot back.

“Well you haven’t bought a new car or any big expenses. Where’s the money going?” he asked.

“I’ll take the set design and leave it at that,” you said. You brushed past him and over to Dan. 

Thirty minutes later you had a signed contract and were back in your office, your dad grumbling as he walked inside.

“I’m busy,” you said.

“Where’s the money going, Y/N?”

“TJ and I make very good money,” you said, typing up an email. He leaned over the desk and narrowed his eyes. “I took the set design only for twenty. Happy?”

“Why do you need twenty thousand dollars?”

“Coming from the guy who made how much fucking money for a single freaking episode? At least I’m not slutting out my face,” you said. He stood back and slammed the door shut on his way out. You sighed and got up, finding him out back, splitting old pallets down. “Dad I’m sorry.”

“Whatever,” he mumbled. 

“Dad. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

“Yeah you did,” he said. “That is exactly why I didn’t want you doing that shoot. Then all you are is a pretty face.”

He moved a pallet and picked up the axe again, bringing it down in the center.

“Dad.”

“What?” he snapped as he spun around. 

“I said it because I knew it’d make you mad and piss you off and get you to drop it. It’s the only reason I said it. Please stop asking about where my money goes. Please.”

“Are you in trouble?”

“Dad I said to stop asking.”

“Tough shit,” he said with a shrug. “Call me whatever you want. Maybe I get pissed off but I’ll cool off too. I know how much you make and I know how much he makes and I know you two have both been taking side jobs recently. You should have your house paid off by now, not barely making your mortgage. What’s going on and I want the truth.”

“I can’t.”

“What’s TJ involved in,” he said. You looked away and he nodded. “There are very few reasons why you wouldn’t tell me the truth and considering how small Allie and Colin are, he’s the only one I can think of.”

“I can’t.”

“Hey! There you are,” said TJ, walking around the corner with a bag in his hand. “I was out at a ranch nearby for work and figured we could have lunch together.”

“Speak of the little devil,” said your dad. He dropped the axe and TJ set the food on the hood of his truck, cocking his head.

“You okay, Jensen?” he asked.

“Peachy,” he said, putting his hands on his hips when he stopped in front of him. “So. Want to tell me what’s going on with your finances lately?”

TJ glanced to you and you shook your head.

“Nothing,” said TJ quietly.

“You want to try that again and not lie to me this time?” asked Jensen. TJ shook his head and your dad shut his eyes. “If you’re involved in something bad, let me help. I have money.”

“TJ just tell him,” you said. TJ sighed and picked up the food, walking over to the employee picnic area and sat down. You took a seat beside him and TJ handed you a wrapped burrito, your dad sitting across from him.

“I’m not angry. Let me help is all,” said your dad.

“It’s not us who’s in trouble,” said TJ. Your dad looked to you and you nodded. “It’s my dad.”

“Oh you two,” he said, shutting his eyes. “You’re paying off Rick’s debt he owes somebody, aren’t you.”

“Rick owes money to a bookie and...he beat him up kinda bad and we have extra so…” you said, your dad staring at you. “He asked us not to tell anyone.”

“How much?” he asked.

“Five...hundred,” said TJ. 

“Five hundred thousand?” he asked, your heads nodding. “Five hundred thousand? What...how much have you given him already?”

“About half,” said TJ. Your dad shook his head and put his hands over his face, quickly pulling them off. “I know it’s a lot.”

“Yeah…” he said, swallowing to himself.

“We got it covered. Really. At the rate we’re doing extra side work-”

“Kids...you’re both so kind I think you missed something pretty important,” said your dad. 

“I don’t understand,” said TJ. He looked to you and you shrugged. 

“Guys that’s a lot of money. That’s...an extraordinary amount of money to a lot of people. How on earth does your father owe that much money all of a sudden?” asked your dad.

“He made some bets he lost on,” said TJ.

“But how could it be that much. What was the original bet?”

“What?”

“What was the original bet he made and lost on?”

“I don’t know. We figured it must have been like a hundred.”

“So your father bet a hundred, say he lost. That’s two hundred. Say he got some insane interest on it. Okay. Maybe, maybe he truly owes that much. But where did he get that original one hundred?”

“He didn’t have it,” said TJ. “We think.”

“Okay. He bet badly and ends up owing the whole thing,” he said.

“Exactly.”

“Do you give this money to Rick or the bookie?” asked your dad.

“My dad. He didn’t want us to get involved with the guy,” said TJ. 

“Okay,” said your dad. “Here’s what’s gonna happen. I’m gonna drive up to your folks this afternoon TJ and talk to your dad, see what’s left he owes. I will pay the rest.”

“Jensen that’s a lot of money.”

“I know it is. But it’s better to get him out of the hole quickly before something were to happen and I can afford it. Okay? I’m gonna head up. You two enjoy your lunch. I’ll be home in a few hours.”

Something was off about him as he stood and left but you weren’t quite sure what was wrong.

“My dad’s gonna be pissed. He didn’t want Jensen to know at all,” said TJ.

“He wants to help. He’s got a point. The quicker it’s paid off, the quicker your dad’s out of danger. Let’s have lunch and you can tell me about that ranch you’re fixing up.”

“Arrow,” you grumbled that night as she reached for the hot pan. “Let it cool off.”

“Why are we having dinner at your house?” she asked. “No offense but you can only cook like five things.”

“Would you like to cook dinner for seven?” you asked. She held up her hands and you rolled your eyes.

“To be fair, Colin still eats baby food,” she said.

“Thank you for volunteering to feed your nephew,” you said with a grin.

“I didn’t-”

“Ro!” he said as he waddled into the kitchen, wrapping her legs up in a hug.

“I hate you,” she said, narrowing her eyes before she picked him up.

“Thank you Arrow,” you said as she put him on her hip. “He’s got dinner in the fridge if you wouldn’t mind?”

“I got it,” she said, opening it up one handed. “Mom and dad have some last minute thing or something?”

“I don’t know,” you said, your phone ringing, Jared’s name popping up. “Can you get that?”

“Hey Uncle Jared,” she said, hitting it on speaker.

“Arrow? Hey you mind finding your sister for me?” he asked.

“She’s busy making dinner. Apparently it’s very difficult.”

“I’m here Jared,” you said. You grabbed the phone and shoved it between your shoulder and ear. “What’s up?”

“Don’t freak out,” he said. “But come outside.”

You turned down the heat on the stove and went out the front door, finding Jared on the seat out front.

“Uh, what’s up?” you asked, pulling the door shut behind you. “This is weird.”

“Your dad may have...listen. Shit went down when Jensen went up to see TJ’s dad whatever his fuckface name is.”

“Jared.”

“Oh you’re about to call him fuckface too.”

“What happened?”

“Well...he had a bad feeling about this whole thing. He and De went up there to talk to them. Things aren’t...your dad’s in the hospital.”

“What?” you said quietly. He stood up and gave you a smile, pulling you into a hug.

“It’s okay. He got a little cut when he got...pushed,” he said. 

“Jared,” said TJ, stepping outside with a curious look. “What’s up dude?”

“Normally being the Uncle is the fun stuff,” he said. TJ frowned when you both saw a cop car pull into your driveway, Cody getting out. “Codes.”

“Dad, I got this,” he said as he hopped up on the porch. You smiled and looked back at TJ. “Oh shut up. I got adopted like six months ago. I might as well.”

“What exactly is happening?” asked TJ.

“Dad,” said Cody again. Jared sat back in the seat, Cody sighing. “TJ...dude I’m sorry. You’re like my brother.”

“Did my...did something happen to my parents,” he said quietly, Cody’s head shaking. “Oh.”

“Rick’s been stealing money from you. There’s no bookie to pay off. Jensen and De went up today to talk to him and they found out the truth and your dad’s got in a fist fight and you guys ought to head up North. It’s not my jurisdiction so I’m not much help.”

“My father did what?” said TJ. Cody glanced at you and you looked down. “That’s not true.”

“Yes, it is,” he said. “TJ the police from your hometown looked into it. He took the money. He’s claiming it was a gift from the two of you but we all know that’s not true.”

“No, he’s been making progress. We’ve been making progress. We’ve been getting along really well,” said TJ.

“Did that start when you started giving him money?” asked Cody.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m just saying what I know as a cop. Did your relationship start changing when money started exchanging hands?”

“Why does he hate me,” said TJ. You grabbed his hand and he shut his eyes. “He must hate me. That’s the only reason I can see why he would do something like that.”

“He doesn’t hate you,” you said.

“He hates you and Jensen. He thinks De is eye candy to stare at. I don’t know how on earth he can pretend to like me,” he said.

“TJ,” said Jared.

“You gonna tell me he loves me or some shit? It’s not good enough,” said TJ.

“I was gonna say you can cut him out of your life if you want to and you’re still gonna have a dad you know. I don’t understand him. I do think he loves you but there’s some resentment towards everyone else you call family. I don’t know why but it’s your choice what you want to do. I’m gonna go inside and finish cooking dinner and we’ll watch all of them tonight. Y/N-”

“I got him,” you said with a nod. 

Ten minutes later you were on the road and driving, TJ staring out the passenger window. 

“Honey-”

“Don’t,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. You reached over and grabbed his hand, TJ squeezing it. “We’re going to my parents house after and we’re packing up as much crap as we can to bring back. I’m never speaking to him again after tonight.”

“TJ.”

“All the late hours I put in doing side jobs. All the jobs you’ve been doing for set design on the weekends. For months and months we’ve been doing it. Straight into his fucking pocket. We could have paid off the house with that money. Paid off bills. That’s our money. It’s our kids money. It’s not some sack of shit’s to go buy whatever he wants with. I could fucking kill him.”

“We’ll get it back,” you said.

“It’s not about the money.”

“I know, babe,” you said. 

“Why is he like that?”

“It’s not an excuse but I think he was raised very poorly and he doesn’t...he knows it’s wrong but I think he thinks we have so much it’s okay if he takes from us.”

“He took two hundred and fifty thousand dollars from us. A year of side jobs for the both of us on top of everything else. We sleep four hours a night. We weren’t handed that. We worked for it. We worked our asses off. All that pressure and all the pressure we thought somebody would hurt him if we were late with money? I can’t believe I ever gave a shit about him. I should have trusted you. You’ve never liked him. No one in your family did. Even Arrow and that kid loves everybody. I should have trusted you guys.”

“TJ they didn’t like him because of the way he treated you, not me. I knew he was a dick when I met him but he belittles you, so, so much. We hate that he does that to you.”

“I don’t know how my mom is married to someone like him.”

“Don’t cut her out,” you said. “She raised you. You’re all her. Anyone who meets you can see that.”

“He’s going to lie when I see him again. I don’t know what to do,” he said. 

“Why?” you asked.

“Because.” You pulled over and he sat back in his seat. He turned his head and you saw all the tears streaming down his face.

“Honey,” you said. You leaned over and hugged him, TJ gripping you back.

“He’d kick my ass for crying right now.”

“Who was it that sat up with my dad after the accident and let him cry all over him? My dad who hates to cry and he’s not afraid to cry in front of you.”

“He’s strong. I’m not.”

“You’re my best friend. The girl who thought she was so fucked up and would be alone. God, Thomas. You gave me something even my parents and family couldn’t. You know how I never thought in a million years I could have this kind of love and you were never scared. The insecurities. The nightmares. The days where I’m quiet and my head gets to me. You just grab my hand and you make it better. You’re stronger than most everyone on this planet. I love and I’ve loved you since I met you and I’ll do anything for you, you know that. We’re partners. If you want to give your dad another chance you can and I won’t question it for a second.”

“I don’t want to talk to him again,” he said, sitting up somewhat. “But how do I say that when you didn’t get a choice? You didn’t get a choice with your parents. They were just gone and you had no say. How can I just walk away like that?”

“My parents didn’t treat me like the way your father does. Neither of my moms or dads ever have. You can walk away from someone that does, TJ. I don’t want you near someone like that. Jared was right too you know. You’re not gonna lose a dad tonight. You’ve always had one and he’s gonna be there for you always.”

“He hurt Jensen, didn’t he?” he sniffled.

“I’m sure he's fine. He’s very...defensive of his children is all.”

“Jensen gave me a letter,” he said. “Addressed to me. That’s when I really knew he loved me.”

“He loved you before that.”

“I know he did. I don’t know why I wanted my dad when I’ve had Jensen the whole time.”

“I’ve been there. Trust me,” you said. He let out a small laugh and you hugged him, TJ taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry Rick hurt you.”

“He hurt both of us.”

“Yeah but I care more about the fact he hurt you. I may deck him when I see him,” you said.

“That’d be kinda awesome,” he said. “But please don’t.”

“Hugs instead?” you said.

“I’ll take hugs,” he said. His stomach grumbled and you kiss his temple. 

“I’m gonna hit the drive thru and then we’ll get on the road again, okay honey?”

“Okay,” he said. You kissed him one last time before you got out of the car and dug around in the trunk. You took out your oversized hoodie and brought it up to the front, handing it to him. “What’s this?”

“You can steal it if you want. Your hoodie’s kinda make me feel better on crappy days,” you said.

“Thanks,” he said. “I really love you.”

“Me too. It’s gonna be okay.”

One Hour Later

“Let’s go to the hospital first,” said TJ as you hit the edge of town. 

“Jared said my dad was fine.”

“Y/N. Let’s go to the hospital,” he said. You nodded and about ten minutes later you were parked and getting a room number. He held your hand on the elevator ride up, kissing the top of your head. “You alright?”

“I’d prefer if he could stay out of the hospital.”

“Me too,” he said, the doors opening. You walked a little too quickly until you found the room, your mom and dad talking as you walked in.

“What are you two doing here?” he asked.

“Jared and Cody came by and we learned some stuff,” you said. “Why are you in the hospital? You look...normal.”

“Your father hit his head.”

“I’m fine.”

“After the accident last year-”

“It was nearly a year ago.”

“After the accident they wanted to be safe and monitor overnight just in case. He got a cut on his arm from some metal but that’s all,” said your mom. 

“I’m fine,” said your dad. He got up out of bed and spun around. “See? No concussion. An itty bitty scratch is all you worry worts.”

“Was there a fight?” you asked. He sat down and sighed. “You don’t look like it.”

“No,” he said. He looked at TJ and pursed his lips. “TJ would you mind grabbing me a drink from the vending machine?”

“Whatever you want to say, you’re gonna say it in front of me,” he said. 

“Mom and I went up to your parents place and it started out okay. But your mom didn’t quite understand what was going on. She thought Rick had been doing well betting horses at a track and that’s where the sudden money came from. Things...devolved from there and Rick got defensive and I was angry so we started arguing and he shoved me and your mom and De shut it down and the cops came and I’m sorry but he took the money for himself. Last we heard from your mom a little while ago she’s giving all the money back to you guys.”

“You pressing charges?” asked TJ.

“It was a shove. He didn’t take my money. You two are the ones that have a right to charge him,” he said.

“Do you know where my mom is?” asked TJ.

“She’s at your house along with your dad,” he said.

“Y/N why don’t you hang here with your parents,” said TJ. You shook your head and he frowned. “You’re worried about your dad. Stay.”

“He’s okay and I’m coming with you,” you said.

“Me too,” said your mom. 

“De-”

“TJ. You’re not gonna win this one,” she said. “Jensen’s okay on his own for a bit and he’d come if he could. You’re not gonna go talk to your dad alone.”

“Fine. Let’s go,” he said, already leaving the room. Your mom grabbed her purse and you ran your hands over your face.

“Go take care of him,” said your dad quietly.

“Dad.” You walked in front of him and he wrapped his arms around you. “He’s gonna be fucked up.”

“I know. We’ll take care of him,” he said. He kissed your temple and pushed you towards the door gently. “Go take care of your husband.”

“We’ll be back.”

“Guys I think maybe I should go in first,” said your mom a short while later, the three of you parked in his parent’s driveway. 

“No,” said TJ.

“Thomas.”

“Danneel,” he said. He turned in the passenger seat and she sighed. “I’m a big boy. I can go in first.”

“Don’t be violent.”

“I won’t,” he said quietly. She kissed his cheek and nodded. 

“Okay sweetie. Let’s get this over with,” she said. You got out and took his hand, TJ not as tense as you were expecting.

“His car isn’t here,” he said quietly on the way up the porch steps. He rang the doorbell and the door flew open, his mom standing there. “Hi mom.”

“I kicked him out for the night,” she said, letting the door open for the three of you. “I’m so sorry. Danneel is Jensen-”

“He’s pissed but fine,” said your mom, following you inside. TJ walked around for a moment, stopping at a picture on the wall.

“Mom. Why does dad hate me?” he asked. He looked over his shoulder and she frowned. “He manipulated me and Y/N. He’s horrible to her family. I get that he went through something as a kid but he’s a grown man.”

“Your father loves you. He doesn’t always know the best way to show it,” she said.

“He hurt me and you’re gonna side with him. Again,” he said.

“He made a mistake.”

“Hell of a mistake,” you mumbled.

“Do you think he wants to be the way he is?” she asked.

“I could have gotten past everything before but this? He doesn’t get to worm his way out of it. I’m done with him.”

“Then you’re gonna be done with me too,” she said. TJ turned around and she lifted her chin. “He doesn’t deserve to thrown out of your life over a mistake.”

“I seem to recall you not saying a word when he almost hit your grandaughter with a belt,” said TJ. “Why do you make excuses for him?”

“Why do you hate him?” she asked. TJ threw up his hands and shook his head. “Always since you were a little boy you’ve hated him.”

“He didn’t want me, not the other way around. I know he worked a lot but all I wanted when he came home at night was a hug or a bedtime story. I wasn’t asking for much,” said TJ. “He resented me.”

“He put in all those long hours for you, to provide for you.”

“I’ve been working since I was fourteen. I paid for my own things from the second I was able to. I paid for school all on my own. My apartment. My car. I paid for my wedding and honeymoon. He paid for food and roof over my head which is the bare minimum he could have done. Don’t tell me he provided for me. He fucking hated me.”

“Because you’re not his,” she said. You and your mom looked at one another, TJ blinking where he stood. “Rick isn’t your father.”

“Excuse me?”

“I cheated on your father because he can be an asshole and I needed an escape. He found out when I was pregnant.”

“Excuse me?” asked TJ again.

“He never wanted children because he thought he’d be a bad father. I guess he was right in your mind,” she said. 

“If you’re gonna tell the story, you might as well tell the whole thing,” said Rick. He stepped out from down the hall, TJ’s mom sighing. 

“So you are here,” said TJ.

“Car’s in the shop,” he said. 

“You hate me?” 

“I love you. It doesn’t mean I’m a good person though,” he said.

“You stole from us.”

“Yes I did.”

“Why?”

“This house is the size of your living room. You have so much.”

“If you wanted money just fucking ask,” said TJ.

“Like I said, just cause I love you doesn’t mean I’m a good person.”

“You’re not even my father apparently.”

“I’m your father,” he said. “Didn’t make ya but I’m your father.”

“What’s the story?” asked your mom. They all looked to her and she looked at TJ’s mom. “What don’t we know.”

“You ever wonder how someone like me wound up with someone like your mother? We’re polar opposites most days,” said Rick. TJ narrowed his eyes and looked between them.

“Don’t tell him,” said his mom.

“Alright,” said Rick. “I must have been mistaken.”

“TJ, can I talk to you,” you said, pulling him into the kitchen. “TJ do you remember in family studies when we had that project to track our family trees and you found your parents marriage certificate and the year was wrong?”

“Y/N what’s that got to do with anything.”

“What if the year wasn’t wrong.”

“It can’t be. They would have gotten married after I was born then.”

“TJ I’m not saying your dad is great but he just lied for your mom. He loves her. Something happened before you were born or after. I have this feeling that she didn’t cheat on him.”

“What are you saying?”

“Maybe I’m wrong but maybe your mom was in a bad situation and Rick stepped in to help because of her.”

“Rick,” said TJ, very quickly exiting back to the family room. “When did you meet my mom. If you ever want to speak to me again, if you want me to speak to her again, you’ll tell me the truth.”

Rick glanced to TJ’s mom, TJ smirking.

“You do care about her.”

“Of course I fucking care about her. I care about you too.”

“That’s great. I feel very cared for,” said TJ. Rick pursed his lips and his mom nodded. “Truth or I walk out that door and never come back.”

“I was married,” said TJ’s mom. “He was charming until he wasn’t. I got pregnant with you and you were born and he would get so angry at you for being a simple baby and crying and...I was so scared of him hurting you that I left. I had nothing and I stayed with a friend for a few days. I met Rick through them and he offered us a safe place to stay with him. It was only supposed to be short term but things developed. He is not perfect but he’s not the monster you think he is. We are safe and the reason you have all you do well and truly is because of him.”

“Do you have anything to say?” asked TJ quietly.

“I loved your mother before I loved you, that’s true. But I learned and I’ve done my best. You were far better off without me in your life. Look at what you have. You’d be angry and bitter if I had more of a hand in raising you. So you can hate me but you do not hurt your mother like that. You do not walk away from her after everything she has done for you. Understand me?”

“I need space from you,” said TJ, Rick nodding. “I also need something else.”

“What?”

“I still don’t understand why you took the money if you weren’t going to spend it.”

“Was gonna impress you, turn a profit on it, give it back with interest. Be like her father, give you some money for once.”

“Jensen doesn’t impress me because of money. Yes, their family doesn’t have to think twice about the cost of most anything. But Jensen, De, they don’t impress me for any reason other than how kind they’ve been to me. They treat me like their son, like I’m their own. They don’t pretend to. They don’t tolerate me for Y/N. They genuinely care about me, all because I fell in love with their daughter, a girl that’s not even theirs and they love her to death. The house is nice. The wedding was nice and so are the vacations. But I could live in a cardboard box and be happy if all I ever got was their kindness. They never made me work for it. They just gave it to me. You could have just given it to me and I would have been a happier kid. But you didn’t and now you have to work for it on my terms. So I want our money back and I want some space from you. If and when I’m ready to talk to you again, I’ll reach out. Alright?”

“Okay,” he said. TJ crossed his arms and nodded before he went outside. His mom followed after and you gave Rick a look. He pulled out his phone and tapped on it for a few moments before shoving it in his pocket. “It says it’s pending for that big of a transfer. It should be back in your account in a few days.”

“Oh I’ll make sure of that,” you said, walking over to him. “Rick. Maybe try some therapy if you really want to salvage this relationship.”

“You think I can afford that?” he said.

“We’ll pay,” said your mom. “Jensen and I will.”

“Why?”

“Cause he’s a fucking awesome kid and he deserves a relationship with you, even if we don’t like you,” she said.

“What about you? You hate me too kid?” he asked you.

“I can learn to tolerate and respect you. But you hurt him and I’ll protect him from anyone that does that, including you. But it’s not my forgiveness you need. It’s his so maybe try the therapy and let him come back if he’s ever ready for that, okay?”

“Alright.” You turned to go when he caught your shoulder. “Can I ask where the money came from? Jensen made it sound like you were behind on bills.”

“It made things tight for us. TJ and I have both been working side jobs nights and weekends to scrounge up extra money. We weren’t handed any of that money we gave you. We even took from ourselves and our children. Just because we live in a nice house doesn’t mean we don’t work for it,” you said. “Oh and one more thing. Touch my father again or call my mom slutty behind her back one more time, you’ll find out which one of us isn’t the good person in this relationship.”

“He what…” said your mom as you walked out, pulling her along behind you. “Dickhead!”

“Come on mom,” you said, pushing her back to the car. TJ gave his mom a nod and hug before he climbed back into the backseat.

“Slut my ass,” your mom mumbled under breath as she started the car back up. 

“Mom, let it go,” you said, shutting your eyes and slumping down in your seat.

“Put on your seatbelt,” she said. You reached up and put it on, turning back to catch TJ with his head leaned back. “You okay back there?”

“I don’t know,” he said.

“That’s probably the right answer,” you said. 

“Let’s get back to dad. I’m sure he’s climbing the walls to get out of there by now.”

Two Days Later

“Howdy,” said your dad, taking a seat in the patio chair beside you as you watched TJ swim in your pool with Allie. “Where’s the babe?”

“Naptime,” you said, TJ tossing Allie up in the air and hugging her tight when he caught her again. 

“How’s he holding up?” he asked, reaching over and taking a chip out of the bag in front of you.

“Better than expected. He’ll give Rick another chance someday.”

“He said that?”

“No. I know Thomas though. He’s too good to hold onto that crap. It might not be for six months or a year but it’ll happen eventually.”

“Well I think he’s a dick,” said your dad. “But if TJ wants to give him a chance, we’ll give him a chance.”

“Thanks for being his dad too,” you said.

“I love the kid,” he said, throwing his arm over your shoulders. “So what are you two gonna do with all that money?”

“Pay off the last of the lawyer fees, pay off a big chunk of what’s left on the mortgage. When that set design comes in then we won’t owe too much more on the house,” you said. “Speaking of which, I gotta go to work on it.”

“Y/N? Use some of that money and take a nice vacation with the kids. Or even just a long weekend away for you and TJ.”

“We really ought to use it for stuff like the house,” you said. 

“Have you and TJ ever taken a vacation just the two of you?”

“Of course. We went on our honeymoon.”

“That doesn’t count. The answer’s no, isn’t it.”

“Dad, I don’t need-”

“Maybe you don’t but somebody in that pool needs to have some fun. Plan a little trip away next month,” he said.

“He’s always wanted to go to Mardi Gras,” you said with a smile.

“You guys would have a blast and I got some pull down there and all. Come on. Let me spoil my grandkids for a weekend.”

“Alright, alright. You’ve convinced me,” you said.

“You mind if the twins have dinner with you guys?”

“We’re actually going to the Pads for dinner. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind more though. You got a hot date?”

“Getting a private college tour with mom and JJ,” he said. “Ya’ll can stop growing up anytime you want you know.”

“She wants to live at home you know.”

“Really?”

“Contrary to her teenage angst as of late, she does love us. Just you know, drop the curfew like you did with me.”

“And we get texts when you stay out.”

“That’s what you thought,” you mumbled. He raised an eyebrow and you shrugged. “I let you know when I wouldn’t be home that night. You didn’t need to know my exact whereabouts.”

“When’s the first time you stayed over TJ’s?”

“Fall of Freshman year in his dorm,” you said.

“Never mind. I don’t need to know,” he said.

“Yup. Let her have fun when she gets there, she’s smart,” you said. “Plus you know she’ll call me if shit happens. Also she has a year and a half of high school left. Relax.”

“At least I know Tom will keep an eye on her too.”

“Already planning the wedding?” you smirked.

“Shut up,” he said, ruffling your hair. “Make sure he gets this.”

He dug into his back pocket and took out an envelope, handing it to you.

“Thanks,” you said quietly. “Dad?”

“Mhm,” he said as he stood. 

“Can you invite him on your fishing trip this weekend with grandpa?”

“Already did,” he said, nodding down at the envelope. “I’ll talk to you soon, tall munchkin.”

“Later dad,” you said, TJ giving him a wave as he headed out. You left the letter on the patio table and went over to the pool, slipping into the shallow end.

“Everything good?” he asked.

“Yeah. My dad left you a letter,” you said, Allie swimming off on her own, doing circles around TJ. He nodded and got out of the pool, drying off some before he went to the table and sat down. “Time for a snack.”

You scooped her up and swung her around in the water, throwing her up your hip. You walked out with her, setting her down to dry her off some. 

“Is daddy okay?” she asked. 

“Yeah,” you said. “Why don’t you change back into some clothes and we’ll get Colin and snack time going.”

She rushed over to TJ and smiled up at him, TJ tucking her hair behind her ear.

“Daddy snack time!” she said.

“I’ll be inside in just a minute, sweetie,” he said. He leaned over and kissed her head, pushing her back towards you. You patted her inside, TJ rubbing his thumb over his lip as he read.

“Take your time, babe,” you said. You kissed his cheek and he nodded. “I’ll leave some tissues just inside the door in case.”

“Thanks,” he said. “Give me five minutes and I’ll be there.”

“Take all the time you need. I got these two,” you said. He nodded and smiled. “Love you.”

“Love you too, Y/N.”

_________

A/N: Read the First Summer Timestamp here!

[out-there-so-it-isnt-just-me]

Hey guys...I have an idea if you aren't sad enough yet. I was struck by a painful comparison sort of crossover idea. It would never be canon, but  I'm mourning the end of Campaign Two, and I want to be sad and over-dramatic. Essek, but as Eliza from Hamilton in “Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story.” But, it’s for the entire Mighty Nien. Some of the lyrics are so on point for a poor Essek who will probably outlive all of his friends (Elves still generally live longer than Firbolgs by a good 200 years). Anyway, enjoy.

MN

Every other founding father's story gets told

It occurs to Essek, during one of the many periods without one of the Mighty Nein (the time that he dwells on them the most), how unfair their whole situation is. They saved all of Exandria, and no one knows. They are amazing, and odd, and frustrating, and no one knows. They will die loved deeply, but not widely. He knows they prefer it that way, all things considered. But, everyone else who saves all of Exandria becomes legends, while the people he loves best will be forgotten, remembered only by him.

And that. That sounds unbearable. 

So, in-between the times he sees the Mighty Nein, he begins to gather accounts. He writes down stories from those they helped, or simply left an impression on.  The people who have met the Mighty Nein have an air about them that he gets good at detecting. They attracted the oddballs and the outcasts. And if they're entirely normal (whatever that means), then they usually get a certain twitch if you ask for stories about interesting strangers. About half the time, a certain blue tiefling pops up in them. He almost has a heart attack when he hears  “go fuck yourself,” in Jester’s cheerful voice, when he knows Jester isn’t anywhere near there. He ends up getting the kenku’s story, and the voices of his friends are weaved into it. Essek thinks the Mighty Nein are the best people in the world, in their own rambunctious way. Part of him wants the world to love them as he does, or at least have the option to. Everyone should have a chance to get to know them, even if it's just through tales. The world would be a better place for it.

...And when you're gone, who remembers your name?

Who keeps your flame? 

Who tells your story?

Who tells your story?

Who tells your story?

Once there is only him and Caduceus left, this becomes a more prominent part of how he spends his time. After...after a long, long period of mourning. He has so much life left to live without most of the people who made it worth living.

I put myself back in the narrative

I stop wasting time on tears

I live another 50(0) years

He stops hiding his past and bears his sins and his story to the world. Essek tells his story so their story can be appreciated to the fullest; his part in their story emphasizes the depth of their compassion and chaos. He tells his story, but not as himself. Essek continues to drift from town to town under a vast number of aliases. Everywhere he goes, he spreads his stories of his friends, some serious, most silly. He disguises himself so he can stay alive to do a little more good, tell a few more stories, to truly live the life his friends wanted for him.

...I try to make sense of your thousands of pages of writings

You really do write like you're running out of time.

Eventually, he gets his hands on some of Beau’s journals, Jester’s diaries, and Caleb’s research. Well, he always had the research, but he gets to the point where he can share it with the world. He slowly begins to share and explain their thoughts and personalities with excerpts from those. Maybe he also has letters that he shares parts of (though most of those, those words specifically for him, he keeps to himself, for himself). He wonders if they'd be angry at him for spilling their private thoughts. But neither Beau nor Jester filtered their thoughts very much in the first place, and he keeps anything truly painful out of the public eye. Caleb, well, Caleb was always about sharing his knowledge and research, provided it wasn't dangerous. And they were all dead anyway.  One of the last things they told him was to be happy. And talking about his friends, learning more about his friends even after they were long dead, that made him the happiest he'd been in a while. So he hoped they wouldn’t begrudge him this small joy he’d managed to grasp and forgive him, should it be necessary.

I rely on Angelica

While she's alive, we tell your story

She is buried in Trinity Church near you

When I needed her most, she was right on time

Caduceus isn’t particularly interested in being well known or famous, but he never shies away from telling a story about any of his friends. Plus, he thinks it’s a good project for Essek. It's a way to continue to show his love for them and keep them alive in the only way they can be now. When Caduceus eventually passes away, he joins the eight other graves (Veth refused to be buried apart from Yeza) that lay in a tucked-away corner of the Blooming Grove. There is one space left, nestled between where Caleb and Jester lay, but it will be empty for a long time yet.

And I'm still not through

I ask myself, what would you do if you had more time...

...You could have done so much more if you only had time

And when my time is up, have I done enough?

Will they tell your story?

He keeps adding to his tale; he stretches it longer and longer with every shred he can remember. But, even his memory, as long as it is, runs out eventually. And their story finally ends, but he doesn't. He throws himself into activities that remind him of them. He does a lot of gardening ( mostly tea, poisonous plants, and flowers). He teaches children some rudimentary dunamancy in his spare time, for Caleb. He messes around with alchemy a little. Eventually, he publishes the last of the research that he and Caleb worked on together; ones that took him decades to solve by himself. He even finds himself drawing a surprising amount of dicks on random surfaces near the very end.

Oh, can I show you what I'm proudest of?

...I help to raise hundreds of children

I get to see them growing up

The time that doesn’t go towards his now worrying amount of hobbies, he spends doing what he has done since the beginning: caring for the Mighty Nien’s true legacy. He looks after and visits their children. He takes care of descendants of Luc, of Jester and Fjord, of the random teenager that Beau and Yasha seemed to adopt completely on accident, of TJ, of the Clays, and of a lovechild of Kingsley’s that found out who his father was and then somehow found Essek himself to learn about him. In an embarrassing show of sentimentality, Essek always keeps at least one offspring of Caleb's very first cat. There is a very funny story about Caleb thinking the animal was spayed when it was, in fact, not. He visits the different generations every couple of years or so (he has a schedule). The drow makes sure they know the stories of their ancestors, the adventures of the Mighty Nien; he tells them it's all real. He gives them ways to contact him if they’re in danger, or need any kind of help really ( he has funds to spare at this point). Every once in a while, a few of them will get it in their heads to write him yearly updates. It’s nice.

In their eyes, I see you, Alexander

I see you every time

And when my time is up

Have I done enough?

Will they tell your story?

It is strange and painful to see the attitude and mannerisms of the Nein in the descendants who have never met them. It is wonderful too. His stories of the Mighty Nein have become well-known tales that no one can decide how much is truth and how much is fiction (it’s true, it’s all somehow, hilariously true). He preserved them in his own way, in the right way (time travel is something he thinks of with a growing hunger the more years pass between when he last laid eyes on his friends). But in these men, these women, these children, they are truly alive.

One little half-orc girl has Jester’s mischievous eyes and infectious joy. Another halfling man squints just like Veth when she's trying to figure out if someone is bullshitting her. There’s a boy who charmingly bumbles his way through most social encounters, as Fjord did. A firbolg woman who has Caduceus gentle smile. A tiefling girl with all the audacious bravado of Kingsley. A man with eyes just as piercing as Beau’s, and a tongue just as sharp. Even Yasha’s kind and gentle demeanor somehow shines through in one small boy, despite her having no direct descendants. He gets to see these flashes of his friends in those who survive them, and it thrills him as much as it cuts him. (Sometimes, when the current cat has ruined some item of his, the pleased look it wears resembles the quiet glee Caleb exuded after he pulled a successful prank, but he’s pretty sure that’s just fanciful thinking.)

One of the last things Essek does before he dies is fully publish, in print, the entire tale of the Mighty Nein. How they came together, every person they helped along the way. The love, the loss, the kindness, the chaos, every moment he could recall or record was put into this one account (necessarily stretched out into several separate books). There is only one set, and he hands it over to the Library of the Cobalt Soul in Rexxentrum. Then he goes on his lonely way.

Oh, I can't wait to see you again

It's only a matter of time

There are now ten graves, each one as unique as its owner, nestled in a small corner of the Blooming Grove. One grave has the dirt still fresh around it. And somewhere, beyond the Divine Gate, there are cheers and laughs and cries of joy as the Mighty Nien become the Mighty Nine once more.

fin.

MN

It’s my head-canon that by the time Essek dies he’s practically a mythical figure among the select families he looks after. It's  to the point that in certain locations ( that have a lot of Nein remnants) he becomes a local legend, the guardian angel of nien (no spelling specified and with no real distinction of what that means), with skin like the night sky who drifts (literally) through towns and helps those who meet a certain requirement, unknown to the general populus. There are rumors that certain people have bestowed upon them a token they could use to call upon the angel’s aid. Of course, the people who have the tokens (sending stones or something similar. IDK how he would get that many wondrous items, but I focus on satisfying narrative not, like, plausibility) know Essek and know that he has died and that the tokens no longer work, but for a while they keep them as heirlooms, to show the love of one drow wizard for the friends he had long, long ago. Eventually, one of Veth’s descendants sells off their set because sending stones are worth A LOT, and the money seemed more practical. They have their stories; those are enough. 

And before anyone complains about the Kingsley bit, I felt compelled to add a smidgen of Kingsley content because Essek loves Jester and Jester’s with Fjord and Kingsley is with both of them for years. I’m sure they get to know each other well enough that seeing traits of Kingsley is vaguely nostalgic and warming, even if it lacks the depth and love he feels for everyone else. Also, there’s no convincing me that Molly/Kingsley doesn’t have at least one illegitimate child running around from various trysts, he was basically the Scanlan of this campaign. It goes with the hedonistic vibe he gives off.

Also, is it normal that I completely designed the Nein’s burial site in my head because I did? Like I imagine they’re all spaced out in a circle. It’s almost like a stone gazebo but there’s not really a roof; it’s just a group of nine pillars that support a stone circle. The entrance is the Traveler’s door with dicks around the edge, and each of the nine pillars/supports is designed to look the knowing mistresses staff. The stone circle is covered in carvings of storm clouds and lightning. Wires are strung across the center of the stone circle to form the symbol of the Cobalt Soul. Not that you can see the wires, because vines have been grown all around them. Once you step through the Traveler’s gate, you’ll find yourself on some kind of rough mosaic floor, with depictions of a peacock, a pyramid, a snake, a sun, a moon, and (oddly) a pirate ship. The mosaic is made up of buttons of various materials and shapes. In the center is a saltwater pool/spring (depending on how magical we can get idk) and floating above it is an eternal flame encased in some sort of dunamancy magic that doesn’t  actually exist that keeps it floating and eternal. Look I'm running out of ideas.

I can’t imagine what everyone’s grave marker would be, but I’m pretty sure Yasha’s is a simple stone that says "YASHA NYDOORIN: wife of Zuella and Beauregard Lionette," and the place where’s she’s buried is just covered in wildflowers that spread outside of the gazebo to encircle the structure entirely up to the gate. Also, everyone has a stone tarot card by their grave with the picture and designation that Molly gave them. Beyond that grows a weirdly dense thicket of trees and bushes that make finding the Nein's resting place rather hard. It’s said only the descendants of the Nein’s family or those favored by the Wildmother (or Traveler, Or Ioun, or Storm Lord) can find their way to them. And one tree, directly behind Yasha, is dead, struck by lightning who knows how long ago. 

And they’re buried in this order: Yeza/Veth, Caleb, Essek, Jester, Ford, Kingsley, Yasha, Beau, Cad. I know there’s a good chance that a) Kingsley would just eff off and die somewhere unknown and b) Cad would probably want to be buried with the rest of his family, but shhh let me dream.

[funkymbtifiction]

Hi, I'm a very unhealthy intj. I have come to the realisation that I constantly try to deny and repress my emotional needs whenever I face obstacles in the world. For example, if people find me unattractive, I detach from that triggering context and try to hamper down my need to be loved. If my mother treats me in a nasty way, I detach from her and go on a corner and try to hamper my need to feel approved by her. If I see that my classmates are better or more competent than me, I avoid contact with them & avoid going to class, and I don’t try harder with the materials or try to be more competent, I repress the need for that as if “I didn’t want it anyway” and “it doesn’t matter”, “makes no difference”, “it’s not meaningful”, but actually, and I can see it now, these things mean the world to me. I notice myself constantly thinking about what people have that I won’t have, like a successful high paying career. I feel like this choice was also the same dynamic of me pushing down my need for high achievement in the face of insecurity and obstacles. People around me see me as a wimp, someone who doesn’t contribute, doesn’t take responsibility, doesn’t integrate to the group, honestly it feels like people see me as a child and completely incapable, despite the fact that they do sometimes say I’m very intelligent (they mean academic intelligence, but not “real” intelligence). I feel like people treat me condescendingly and don’t take me seriously. I also feel an utter lack of life direction, I have no goals and no plans, and I’m at a point where I don’t give a sh*t and I’ve been more socially impulsive (like jokester behavior, class clown) and reckless about my reputation, missing deadlines, appointments, loosing track of what’s going on around me and what I need to do. Is this congruent with Fi loop and Se grip? I still don’t see how I can use Ni+Te to grow out of it, I can see it in the abstract, but not concretely.

I have excellent news for you! You’re not a “very unhealthy INTJ,” you are a perfectly normal feeling type! Thinkers don’t have to try to deny and repress their emotional needs, detach from things in order to tamp down their reaction to it, or care much what other people think about them. You’re doing that because your emotions are under constant assault by the world; you feel like you have to measure up to an outer, detached standard, because it hurts to think about how people feel about you or to think they find you incompetent, etc.

What you describe to me feels a lot more like Fi-dom (IFP) with inferior Te insecurities. Rather than working harder, setting goals, and figuring out what sequence of steps you need to take to reach them (an INTJ’s process), you try and convince yourself that you don’t want those things and can’t achieve them, since you don’t know how to obtain them. Backing down and becoming insecure about how logical you are, or thinking you need to get “better” at being detached, is what IFPs do when faced with strong thinking types. They make it about themselves, their fear of being incompetent, their anxiety about how they are perceived, and their need to be more capable. Having a lack of direction, goals, etc, indicates weak/nonexistent Ni, which rules out the INJ types.

Are you sure you’re not an ISFP who doesn’t know what they want, has an unclear future, and can’t pay attention to their environment since they’re searching for a singular purpose? My second choice would be IFJ, but you are certainly a strong feeling type, not a TJ.

[izzyspussy]

touching prompts! 28 + shyan

28. feeling for each other in the dark

It starts out feeling like one of those episodes that will be filled up with backstory and jokes and not much else. The ambiance of the hotel is rich and ornate, every room with high ceilings and chandeliers and plush couches and perfect golden lighting that reaches effortlessly into every corner. By midnight, the lonely echo of their own footsteps on the marble floors is the creepiest thing they’ve managed to capture.

Shane gives Ryan a sympathetic look, half patronizing and half genuine, and Ryan grimaces and shrugs back. Sometimes that’s how the ghostly cookie grumbles, and Ryan has long made peace with that. Things are quiet as the rest of the crew packs up after establishing shots of where Ryan and Shane will be sleeping - separate this time, since the hotel is big enough for it and Ryan doesn’t feel like his brain will melt out of his head at the thought of being alone in here. TJ promises them stuffed pancakes in the morning, and then they’re alone. It’s an early turn in for a shoot, so Ryan and Shane settle together on the bed in Ryan’s room to play a round of no-stakes poker before bed.

The presence creeps up on Ryan so gradually that he doesn’t even notice it for the better part of an hour, laughing and taking Shane’s gentle ribbing with maybe a little bit more grace than he might if he wasn’t so consistently winning at the cards. He’s been mapping out the consternated look on Shane’s face that grows more pronounced with every loss, the way the dimmed lights and late hour soften him out and loosen him up. Shane huffs a breath, ruffling his own hair where it falls over his forehead, and folds - and it’s then that Ryan recognizes the sensation of someone reading over his shoulder.

“I’m done, I give up,” Shane says, and flops onto his back for the dramatics of it before rolling onto his feet and starting to gather up his water bottle and his phone and his shoes.

“Don’t-” Ryan chokes out, frozen solid caught between the need to look and the need to not see. Shane’s head snaps up at Ryan’s tone. He checks Ryan over quickly, and the fact that he doesn’t find anything amiss is clear on his face.

“Oh, did we find it?” he asks, once again half poking at Ryan and half still concerned.

“I don’t know, there’s-” Ryan starts, his voice high and tight. A warm, wet brush of air on the back of his neck that surely could only be breath cuts him off, and then the lights go out.

There’s no surge or shower of sparks, no pop of bulbs giving up, just the sudden darkness like someone flipped the switch - except for how Ryan can tell that it’s not just the room they’re in to have lost power by the absence of noise he hadn’t noticed, by the thick cushion-heavy silence of absolutely nothing on anywhere.

Ryan drops his hand and scrambles toward the foot of the bed, away from whatever, and screams when he runs face first into a hand.

“Shh, it’s me,” Shane says, and the hand pats down the side of Ryan’s head until it find his shoulder and gives him a comforting squeeze. Ryan reaches out blindly toward Shane’s voice, finds his hips, then his waist, and then tips himself off the bed to bury himself in Shane’s arms.

Shane stumbles briefly under Ryan’s sudden weight against him with a startled noise, but then he laughs softly and wraps all around Ryan the way that only he can. He walks carefully backwards until they hit the wall beside the bed, and then he sinks them down to sit on the floor. Ryan is practically cradled in Shane’s lap, but it’s pitch fucking black and they are only just barely in frame of the night-vision static cam and there is something in here with them so he simply can’t care if it’s embarrassing or transparent of him to stay.

“It’s okay, Ry, I’ve gotcha,” Shane murmurs into Ryan’s hair, petting down Ryan’s back and letting Ryan shiver and cringe into his chest without shame or judgment. “Just a blackout, it’s okay.”

“It’s not,” Ryan insists. His own breath is warm and damp in his face from the way his face is buried so firmly into Shane’s soft henley. “There was something. Behind me. I felt it breathe.” There’s a momentary pause in which Shane only continues comforting Ryan physically.

And then he says, “Why would a ghost breathe?”

Ryan is helpless to the way the tension is his shoulders breaks, the way he laughs, half-hysterical. Shane’s answering chuckle rumbles through his chest and into Ryan’s and sets Ryan to a completely different kind of shivering.

send me a touch prompt! | ✨ tip jar ✨

[intoafandom]

Ok, let’s digest this

I fucking LOATHE the washington capitals. Every single one of them. Their entire roster, all of their coaches, all of their fans. All of them (except chara-but even he is starting to get corrupted). Ive said this a million fucking times and im so fucking sick of having to say it. SUSPEND FUCKING WILSON. I don’t understand how the entire caps organization can defend that piece of shit who has sent multiple people to the HOSPITAL with his blatant, reckless hits. Kuraly gets tripped and then wilson comes from no where to elbow him in the head. HOW MANY TIMES HAS HE DONE THIS SHIT WITHOUT A PENALTY. There should’ve been a penalty from the TRIP ITSELF. AND THE REFS WONT CALL AN ELBOW TO THE HEAD FROM TOM FUCKING WILSON. Oh its “accidental contact” BITCH FROM TOM WILSON!? ACCIDENTAL!? WHAT!? And WE get a penalty for it!? NHL, FIX YOUR FUCKING REFS HOLY FUCKING SHIT. I fucking swear the refs are getting their dicks sucked by wilson cuz they fucking NEVER call penalties on wilson when he does this shit to us. Nbc announcers need to be fired. Literally fuck off. Im so fucking SICK of their victim blaming. “Kuraly was off balance so haha no penalty” BITCH HE GOT TRIPPED AND WILSON STILL WENT FOR HIS HEAD. HOW THE FUCK ARE YOU GOING TO BLAME KURALY OH MY FUCKING. I want him suspended and at this point i wanted him ejected from the league. Im so fucking sick of his shit. The nhl should be embarrassed that he is still playing for them and the caps organization and their fans should be embarrassed too (but you know they wont be cuz they’re all pieces of shit. They’re just gunna be like “well daddys hot and you have marchand so haha who cares. It was a clean hit haha” fuck you)

AND FUCKING HATHAWAY OMFG. He was being a fucking menace all game without penalties so you just KNEW this shit was coming. FUCKING BOARDING ON TINORDI. His entire fucking face is dripping with blood and you’re going to act like you did nothing wrong. You’re REALLY going to be upset with the refs for kicking you out of the game when you complete a hit like that. I want Hathaway suspended too. That was fucking disgusting. And AGAIN nbc STOP FUCKING VICTIM BLAMING HOLY SHIT. “Tinordi turned into it” “look Tinordi turned into it at the last second” these bitches try so fucking hard to make it look like the bruins did it to themselves. Like HELLO I DONT THINK TINORDI WANTED HIS FACE BASHED INTO THE BOARDS YOU DUMBASSES. This isn’t even the first time Tinordi was boarded by the caps this season AND FUCKING NBC SAID THE SAME FUCKING THING!! TRYING TO BLAME HIM. FUCK OFF. These are the same bitches that blamed Carlo for getting hit in the head by Wilson. “Look you can see that Carlo sees wilson coming in the corner of his eye and then he drops his head” BITCH ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS. I DONT THINK CARLO WANTED THAT WILSON FUCKER TO GIVE HIM A CONCUSSION, SEND HIM TO THE HOSPITAL CUZ HE COULDNT SEE OUT OF ONE OF HIS EYES, HAVE MEMORY LOSS, SLURRED SPEECH OR MOOD SWINGS. I DONT THINK HE WANTED THAT NBC. FUCK ALL OF YOU. DONT YOU DARE BLAME OUR PLAYERS FOR THE IDIOCY ON THE CAPITALS. DONT YOU FUCKING DARE. (Not to mention how, when finally returning to ice weeks later, Carlo literally said he didn’t see wilson AT ALL and he couldn’t even remember what happened until he watched the replay DAYS later). Oh AND the fact that they have the audacity to call this game “entertaining” when the caps are committing dangerous fucking hits that leave our players severely injured. Fuck off.

Caps fans, yall need to get your heads out of your asses. This shit is DISGUSTING. What if a bruin did that to one of YOUR players. Dont pretend you wouldn’t be upset. Now imagine we did that CONSTANTLY with ZERO consequences. Fucking bullshit right. Exactly. So dont go getting mad a bruins fans for wanting your players suspended when they do this shit constantly. Fucking disgusting. So you think wilsons hot? So what. He’s a piece of shit.

And then you have players like tj oshie and alex ovechkin (AND THEIR FUCKING COACH) who do the same shit, then go in front of the media defending their teammates saying “it was a clean hit” “its kind of a joke (that he was suspended)” like are you fucking SERIOUS. Fuck off.

And nhl player safety sucks ASS. They only give a shit when fans start complaining. Ive said this in a previous post, but one of the worst parts about hathaway’s hit on Tinordi is that it will completely overshadow wilsons hit on Kuraly. Just like how wilsons hit overshadowed vranas crosscheck to the back of Carlo’s head. The nhl player safety only cares about getting one player, to “calm down fans” instead of actually getting justice for all the ones who were victims of dangerous hits. Im so fucking tired of it. If they end up suspending Hathaway, they probably wont do anything to wilson and you KNOW IT. Fuck you.

Every damn time we play the caps, their shitty reckless physicality severely injures someone and they never get any meaningful punishments. Their entire organization is so fucking toxic. So much so that they’re even starting to corrupt ZDENO CHARA. Honestly just disband this team. Im fucking over it. And I would bet most nhl fans wouldn’t give a shit about never having to see ovechkin oshie wilson etc ever play again.

And yes caps fans, im tagging you. Cuz yall need to get over yourselves.

[incorrectadsom]

The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue Review (No Spoilers)

The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue follows the winding tale of Addie LaRue a girl made immortal through a Faustian deal, but is also cursed to be forgotten by everyone she meets. Three hundred years later, she finds someone who can remember her.

Style.

The most remarkable trait of this book is the style, a style I will call neither good nor bad, but characteristically Schwab’s. This book’s writing is what happens when Schwab is no longer tethered, freed, if you have read her other works, her Villains or Shades of Magic series, you will be intimately familiar with it. Rife with wistful metaphors and long, winding monologues like circling hallways. You will notice however, they’re usually cut short in her past works, you might not have noticed it then, but you’ll notice it after reading this book. Because they never stop in this book, they stretch on and on, and as she returns to her favourite turns of phrase again and again until they’ve stuck so far in your head you wonder how she thought of so may metaphors for the colour green. That’s the thing about this book that still wins my heart, this is Schwab condensed. This is Schwab’s meandering, wistful, nostalgic style first and characters and plot second. This is a book of atmosphere.

I was thinking of splitting this book into a list of pros and cons, but there are no objective elements in this. It’s biggest pro for one reader, a reader who wants to escape to ancient French villages and fantastical New York art exhibitions and Chicago speakeasies will also be the biggest con for a different type of reader, a reader who needs a villain to best, a conflict around every corner, a suspense to hang in the air. And suspenses are hung, but then you’re whisked away to a new land as you watch your heroine journey throughout history.

My best recommendation for you is to go to a bookshop and read the first page. If you like it, read it, if you don’t, don’t. You won’t have met the characters, not really, and you won’t have grasped the world, but, it’s most pervasive element, it’s style, is bared for the world to see from it’s very first pages. I mean this with no malice behind it, but I don’t think this is a book that could “win someone over” halfway through, if you love the first page, you’ll love it through and through, if you think it’s a tad boring, well that might stick too. When I see criticism of Schwab’s style, sometimes I agree with it and sometimes I merely understand it. They say she procrastinates plot progression, circles around the story more than she tells it, words flowing out of pages like a waterfall with no drains. For a few of her books-namely Vengeful and A Gathering of Shadows- I did feel pinpricks of annoyance. I felt I’d been promised an action packed plot and was stuck with a several page monologue about abstract concepts of freedom and power and yes, it was beautifully written, but isn’t this in the middle of an action scene? For this book I felt no such annoyance, because this book doesn’t have that promise of fast paced scenes and villains to defeat, and when that wistful, meandering style is the entire book, you can go along for the ride without wondering when the heroes will make their way out of their newest predicaments.

There are some downsides to this, in my entirely subjective opinion. Obviously for people who simply don’t like this type of style, perhaps people who adore the tight framework and near perfect pacing of Vicious may find Addie not as well suited to them. Despite my fondness, a downside is the several times I found I had turned two pages at once and not noticed, either finding myself in the exact same scene or assuming it had ended a page earlier. There are very few pages you could skip over and realise you had missed it by it being mentioned in future prose, while in some of her other works, the status quo changes constantly. In Vicious I was hungry, there was an overwhelming need sowed by Schwab to hear Victor and Eli’s past. In Addie, reading is less like running for my life and more like a lovely ambling stroll down a garden path.

Characters.

This section will be much shorter, congratulations if you’ve made it this far.

What is there to say of Addie LaRue? If you’ve read the Shades of Magic I would say two words, Likable Lila. Lila Bard and I have a complicated relationship, I love reading of her, I love her wit, but if we met in real life I’d keep a wide berth. Many readers have even less favourable ideas, her actions are often played as recklessness, but cross the thin line of “stubborn” to “stupid.” Addie captures that stubborness, that wit, but I was never annoyed with her, never thought I couldn’t have been pushed to do what she had. The slight internalised misogyny inside of Lila has also vanished in Addie, which is a great relief. To someone who hasn’t read Shades of Magic? Addie is someone so desperate for freedom she’ll ask it from anyone, from people she knows she shouldn’t. Reckless, yes, but you grow a respect as you see all she endures.

Luc. Awful. Amazing. Beautiful. Hideous. A real and true dark grey and you’re still not sure if it’s really grey, you’ll never be sure. He’s pitch black at first and Addie splashes like a drop of white, but did it truly lighten him? Or was it a trick of the light? Flowery prose aside, do I want to fuck him or kill him? It changes from moment to moment.

Henry. One of the rawest characters, and despite the pages and pages of Addie, his moments, his glimpses, make me empathise with him most. Best description I can think of is just, heartwrenching.

Bea. Please date me.

Sam. Please date me.

Robbie. I know he isn’t Robbie Valentino from Gravity Falls, but... Isn’t he though? I was honestly too distracted as I read every line of his dialogue in TJ Miller’s voice. It was a problem.

Overview.

I know I may have sounded a tad harsh in this review, but I felt I needed to bring it to attention to warn readers who know themselves well enough to know this won’t be their cup of tea. But I truly would recommend this to any reader who feels they can enjoy stories without high stakes, stories with beautiful prose transporting you to awe inspiring locations, stories about the journey and not the destination. And isn’t that how a book about an immortal should be? Never about an unreachable destination, but an infinite journey?

[calypsoff2]

Thirty Nine. Part 4

I feel bad because I know Chris wants me to come home, I can tell with the look on his face, but I will be quick and just see to Mel, I am so proud of him. I didn’t really expect him to stay behind, I genuinely assumed he would go because why should he stay but he did, he’s a good man. Smiling at my kids as they looked at me, they are wanting to stay but I am jet lagged and I don’t want to deal with them right now, waving at them as they turned the corner. I am so proud of him, more than he ever knows. Let me deal with Mel, see where her mind is at because this can’t happen, the way she isn’t really caring to see my beautiful niece, she is so beautiful “now that they are gone” I joked but I don’t think Mel is in the mood for it at all “I’m sorry, I feel bad that I wasn’t here for you like I should have been. I didn’t think the little lady would come so quickly, but also you didn’t tell me Mel. Ok I am busy; you know I am, but this is important. Chris wouldn’t have mind, look at him, he was here for you when needed. He has a good heart, so you didn’t need to hide this, you hiding it made it worse. It stressed you out and everyone else around you, I couldn’t concentrate on my meeting at all Mel. That was so stupid of you, I am angry at that. You were literally giving birth and I didn’t know! You didn’t let me be there for you, so I am not happy but she’s here and we need to be happy, she is healthy too” Mel shook her head “I feel nothing for the child” she said so blunt “you do, you’re just angry. You have been through a lot Mel; I totally understand you feeling like this, but you need let this baby love you” she turned away “she looks like auntie though, she looks so cute. I really thought seeing a baby it would make me want to have another baby, but I think I am content” I laughed to myself, let me post a picture “auntie baby” looking down in the crib “what a beautiful little angel, god sent this from above” I want Mel to hold her so much.

This picture is adorable “you don’t mind right? I only posted a picture of her tiny little hand in mine, is that ok?” I asked, Mel nodded her head “Melody Robyn Fenty?” Mel’ frown turned into a laugh “well I might as well be the daddy” I chuckled, pressing send on the picture with a smile “I love it when you smile Mel, come on” placing my phone on the table, grabbing the chair and dragging it closer to her, I want to hear her. Even though I am so tired, I feel so jet lagged, I haven’t really slept, I honestly just want to go home and snuggle with my family but Mel right now, she needs me. Sitting down across from her, Mel smiled at me lightly “I love you” tilting my head to the side “I love you more, I don’t hate that you weren’t there for me, but I honestly didn’t want to burden you. You moved into a new home, you have your family together, I didn’t want to tell you oh by the way I wet your new carpet with my waters when you are busy doing that, I just feel not into this. Like am I meant to be a mother Robyn, do I need to be a mother, I should give this baby to someone that wants her and will love her” grabbing Mel’ hands in mine as she sobbed out “stop it Mel” she making me choked up “you feel like this because you are hurting from what TJ did, he is a low life and I promise you now she will have a better life without him Mel, you know this. You know I will be there for you” Mel sobbed out, getting up from the chair to hug her “I really fell for TJ, you don’t understand he really treated me good” she said through her sobs.

My thumb lightly stroked atop of Mel’ hand she is in her own thoughts “I thought like ok, you hate me whatever but why wasn’t he here for the birth. I feel so ashamed, the fact that Chris was there. The fact he was there with me, he saw me in this position. He carried me down the steps with Rorrey, like he didn’t need to do that. He shouldn’t need to do that at all. I feel like shit, he saw so much, and I know he did but I was in pain” nodding my head understanding “and Mel honestly, Chris didn’t care. He was more upset that you didn’t hold her, he called me and said why hasn’t Mel held her, I don’t understand. Mel the baby doesn’t understand anything but love, and I am telling you now once you hold her it means nothing. Look” clearing my throat “things with Chris and I have not always been the best, you know for a fact we went through some shit. When I served Chris the papers, the thing that got me through it all was my kids. If I didn’t have my kids I would be depressed, no matter what my kids is what does it for me, seeing them girls and Mel oh my god. You are so good with them, look how much they love you and you’re telling me you can’t love” Mel went ever so quiet “see, Mel when you are ready she is waiting for you. She is wanting some love from her mother, trust me. That TJ is an asshole, he is fucking missing out on the most magical moment. I will be here for you while then ok?” leaning over, pressing a kiss on her forehead “thank you” Mel breathed out “for what? You have done so much for me, I know for a fact you will be such a good mother, I know you will” I know in my heart she will.

I jolting up off of the seat, Mel’ voice woke me actually. I didn’t even realise I fell asleep, I am so tired “she is born TJ, what else you want me to say? This shit isn’t my fault, you never fucking care! You never fucking came to a scan, and you want to be here for when I give birth? You want to hold my baby, you want that? No fuck you, you ain’t ever seeing her. Robyn can post her when she wants, you are only going to see her on Instagram nigga, now you come correct when you speaking to me. I don’t want you; I don’t want your money, I don’t care for you!” she shouted “you take me to fucking court, do it. I will make sure you pay me child support, money you don’t have. Why don’t you ask Chris, he saw your daughter be born. Probably thinks he’s the dad, now you go and crawl under the rock you came out of” Mel disconnected the call, sitting up on the chair confused “what happened? I heard a lioness tone there?” I said raising an eyebrow, my smile grew “look at you, I mean ok you were shouting but the way you are protecting her. See Mel” that is all I heard “it was TJ, he was demanding pictures and to know her, he isn’t. Not after I went through all that, he thinks I will let him” this is amazing, I am happier she spoke about Melody that way “and that’s on that, you go girl. He can go and fuck himself, why did he call or even know?” I questioned “he saw your post and he said Fenty?” I snorted laughing “it was a joke, either way he won’t whatever the fuck he is, I don’t know why he cares” TJ got a fucking nerve with that.

Staring down at Melody, I have just changed her diaper and I felt a slight hurt in my heart. The way I missed this moment with Imani, the way I just left to work, the way I didn’t get these moments with her, I feel choked up now “you are so beautiful” holding Melody’ hand smiling trying to hold back any tear that is about to fall, I was so lost in work, I just wanted to work but it paid off but at the cost of my kids, at the cost of my husband. I am to blame but he didn’t need to treat me like that, I will never make that mistake and if I could start over I wouldn’t do that, if I could restart with Imani I would remain with my daughter, I would have stopped work. My family means more then that, looking up shaking my head. I have so many regrets, this is my biggest. I missed out so bad, please don’t cry. That is all I can think to myself, I do not want to cry but it happened. Wiping the tears that fell “Robyn?” Mel said, looking over at her “I missed out on Imani, sorry. It’s not about me” I laughed “I still can’t believe you had a baby and went to work, like I can’t even move” I laughed shaking my head “I don’t know either, thinking back I was so worried about missing out on something, I just left her to Chris, I didn’t think. I was stupid” Mel shook her head “ok, I mean you made the mistake but look at you now, you have so much time with them now” she has a point “you look happier” she really does “because you’re here but also, I think I am going to move out” furrowing my eyebrows, looking over at Melody as she started to whine out.

I can’t believe she said that, feeding Melody as I sat down “why? Go back to the conversation?” I said, I want to know “because I am just in the way Robyn, you have your family. I can’t” Mel put her head down “I felt like I got annoyed at Chris, I kind of was mean to him, I questioned him and made him feel like he was to blame because I was feeling jealous that” her voice broke “that my daughter will not have that, that I bought her into this world, I can’t just be there Robyn. Always just there, and then what? Babysit, be in the way” she sobbed out, tilting my head to the side a little “you’re not in the way Mel, that is a lie, stop this. I know Chris felt something, maybe that is why but trust me Mel Chris isn’t the father, but he will spoil her, he is such a good person” Mel cried out even more “I fucked up Robyn” Mel is going to make me cry “Mel, please stop. How were you to know, but there is one thing. You ain’t leaving the home, you are my fucking sister, you can’t do this on your own Mel! Please let us help you through, I love you so much” Mel is making me cry, she needs to let it out “I would hug you, but Melody is at peace” my tear fell onto Melody’ baby grow “I am telling you now Mel, this baby is so loved. She really is, and I know deep down that you love her too, it was there. But you need to mourn shit, you had feelings for him, and we can’t judge who we fall for, but I am telling you now Mel, you are staying with me. You can’t do this alone, the girls love you and I love you” Mel sniffled wiping her tears “I feel stupid, just so much happened. And I am sorry about Chris, I am sorry he had to see it” shaking my head “there is one person I trust my husband with and that is you so don’t. He was having a meltdown but the fact he stayed really made me proud of him, he is such a girl dad now” I laughed “he is Robyn and god has blessed you so good, he is so good with them” I can’t wait to see him already.

Mel is out of bed, she did it herself and I didn’t push her to do it at all. I am currently watching Mel finish from the bathroom and listening to Chris and the kids, the way them girls, well the eldest two. The way they run the house when I am not there “I will whoop your ass if you don’t move” my brother said, I am actually on the phone to Rorrey so they don’t know I can hear them “Rylee, can you please go upstairs now, Tianna you too!” he spat “Chris I am going to whoop your kids in a minute” hearing them run off “Robyn, your kids need a beating” I laughed, sometimes it’s a break away from them “Robyn on the phone, let me speak to her” Chris said, he sounds annoyed and a little irritated “why didn’t you call me, when are you coming home?” taking in a deep breath “did you sleep?” I asked “no, come home” he said again “I will, let me just make sure Mel is ok and then I will. I won’t be lone, stay up then ok” I will go back, I have too “ok, I will speak soon, you want to speak to big head?” Chris asked “no, it’s ok” disconnecting the call, seeing Mel actually picking Melody up, my eyes lit up “Chris misses you” Mel said, getting up from the chair seeing her slowly go to sit on the edge of the bed, she winced in pain as she sat down “yeah but oh my god” making my way over to them “you’re holding her!” I spat “she is really my baby Robyn” I am so excited seeing her pick her up, Mel looked up at me “how can I hate her” she got teary eyed “I know” I breathed out ready to cry with her.

The home is so quiet, Mel said for me to go and come back tomorrow, and I did say will she be ok with her, and she said she will so I will leave her to it, she has held her now, so I came home. I am so ready to get into bed right now and just snuggle up to my man, have a little make out session maybe. The home is so clean, that house cleaner is perfect. She really does such a good clean here, I hope he is awake because if he isn’t then he will be upset with me in the morning. Opening the bedroom door, seeing the TV is glowing “you’re awake” I said, closing the bedroom door behind me “poppa!” placing my bag on the floor, taking my shoes off quickly “I am about to fall asleep” running towards the bed, Chris laughed shuffling up on the bed. Jumping onto the bed and crawling over to him “I missed you so so so much” pressing kisses to his face “but you came home though, I am tired as hell” hugging Chris ever so close “I am too, I just want to sleep in your arms. Shall I just undress and sleep naked?” I questioned, moving back from him “why not, I miss seeing your body. Actually when was the last time you washed your ass?” I scoffed “shut up” he is being annoying “talking about you on the toilet, you not had a shower” pouting at him “fine, I will have a shower” shuffling away from him, Chris moved the covers back and jumped up at me and made me fall onto the bed “I love your smell” he know damn well I don’t smell.

[tbtssstuff]

BTS reaction to be jealous of a fictional character

+RE-UPLOAD+

AN: Just some cute boys jealous over fictional people. I feel like gamer boyfriends go through this a lot. Ik I would (If I had a girlfriend or boyfriend (╥﹏╥) ) if my s/o wouldn’t pay attention to me.

Masterlist

-TJ / TacoAdmin 🌮

Jin (Anna and the French Kiss by. Stephanie Perkins)

Jin walked in to find you curled up on the couch with a book in your hand. He was intrigued by the way you giggled and squealed.

“Yah (Y/N), I could hear you from the kitchen. What are you reading?”

You closed the book and held it close to your chest, smiling fondly.

“Well if you MUST know, it’s a book I read a lot back in high school. The main guy, St. Clair, has to be the cutest and funniest guy ever!” You said happily ignorant of your boyfriend’s feelings.

“I thought I was that guy! I’m Worldwide Handsome!”

You were stunned. Was he jealous of a… fictional character? The pout he wore gave you your answer. You bit your lip to try and suppress a laugh and got up to walk to him.

“Jinnie,” you cupped his face in your hands, “you will forever and ALWAYS be my #1, okay?”

You pecked his lips and he smiles, seemingly content with your response.

“But St. Clair is funnier than you. I’m sorry.”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN!?”

Namjoon (Friends)

You and Namjoon were cuddling on the couch for your annual binge session of Friends. While watching you noticed that Namjoon had become increasingly quieter.

That wasn’t like him.

He’d usually chuckle at stupid jokes or at least commented on something by now. By the time the episode was over you grabbed the remote to stop it before the next one played.

“Okay Joon, what’s going on?”

He looked at you, confused. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve barely said anything during the last few episodes. Everything okay?”

He bit the inside of his cheek, trying to figure out the best way to get out of this, but it didn’t work. You knew him like the back of your hand.

“Joonie.” You leaned on his shoulder and looked at him with puppy eyes, knowing it was his weakness. He sighed knowing he was defeated.

“I… didn’t like the way you were staring at Joey.”

You couldn’t help but bust out laughing. Was he being for real right now?

“I it’s not funny (Y/N)!”

After a few minutes you calmed down and then hopped into his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissed his lips. He instantly relaxed and began kissing you back. You slowly pulled away from him to look into his eyes.

“You do know that I love you right?” He nodded. “And that Matt LaBlanc is WAY older than me, I mean don’t get me wrong he’s still good looking.”

He glared and you quickly added, “Not that I’m looking!”

There was an awkward second, but he remained silent.

“But Joey Tribbiani is a fictional character and you have something he doesn't have.”

His eyebrow quirked. “And what is that?”

You smirked leaning forward a bit. “An amazing partner named (Y/N).”

He laughed and wrapped his arms around your waist. You two spent the rest of the night like that. Making jokes and enjoying each other.

Yoongi (Marvel)

“Man if I could kiss Iron Man I would.”

You commented while you and the boys were watching the first Avengers. Iron Man had just fallen from the sky and Hulk yelled to wake him up.

“Imagine the way his facial hair must feel while kissing you.” Jungkook laughed along with you. He was always the best Marvel movie buddy, putting up with your stupid antics and comments during the movie.

The rest of the boys remained quiet and slightly scared. They all knew about Yoongi’s crush on you and the comment about the playboy millionaire in red and gold armor caused his mood to change.

Not that you noticed.

You never did.

He just got up and walked off, making a comment about going to the bathroom. Ten minutes passed, you guys started the next movie and he still wasn’t back.

“Hey I’m going to check on Yoongi.” You got up and walked towards the bathroom.

“Yoongi?”

There was no response.

Then you noticed his studio light on. He had skipped out on movie night! Rude! If he didn’t want to join he could have just said so!

You stomped over to the door, entered the code he gave you, and barged in.

“Min Yoongi!”

He jumped slightly at the loud noise and turned around. “(Y/N)? What are you doing here?”

“Real question is why are YOU here? It’s movie night Yoongs and if you didn’t want to join you could have said so.” You crossed your arms and pouted. “You didn’t just have to up and leave. I got really lonely without you.”

His eyebrows raised in surprise. “You missed me?”

You nodded, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

“Maybe if you missed me you wouldn’t be imagining kissing someone else.”

Wait what? Did Yoongi really just say that? It almost sounded as if he was..

“Yoongi are you jealous?”

A little bit of hope sparked in your heart. You had the BIGGEST crush on Yoongi since Jimin introduced you almost a year ago. Could this be your chance?

He scoffed and got up from his chair, “No way.”

Or not.

“So you didn’t care about me wanting to kiss Tony Stark?”

“No, he’s a fictional character. Why would you kiss him when you could kiss me? An actual person here in the flesh.” His sudden boldness made you flush more.

“K kiss you?”

You cursed yourself for stuttering, but you couldn’t help the way he made you feel.

He closed the distance between you and lightly touched your cheek. “Yeah me. I guess now is a good time as ever, but I like you (Y/N). Like more than a friend and probably more than I should.”

You smiled, throwing your arms around his chest. “I like you too, Yoongi. I have for a long time.” After hearing that he couldn't help but smile and lift your head up to finally kiss you. After a bit you slowly pulled apart. “It’s still cute you were jealous though.” You smirked and poked his nose, earning a groan from him.

Hobi (Assassin's Creed Odyssey. Not really the guy in it but the game in general)

Hoseok’s head rested on your lap as you were playing your game. This was a normal thing for him and you.

You really wanting to beat this boss and him wanting attention after not seeing each other for a while.

“Can you put that down and pay attention to your boyfriend?” He looked up at you with the cutest puppy eyes and a pouty lip, but nothing seemed to pull your attention away from the screen.

“Five more minutes sunshine, I promise we can cuddle all you want after.”

Yeah he heard that ten minutes ago.

He liked how passionate you are about this, but damn it he wanted his kisses and your fingers running along his scalp!

“You said that ten minutes ago.” He got up off your lap and went to the corner of the couch, cuddling a pillow.

“I start to think you like this game more than me.” You paused your game and looked at him.

You were about to deny that claim very seriously and risk the chance at starting an argument, but seeing his cute face you decided not to and just put your controller down.

“Hobi~”

He didn’t look at you, continuing to pout.

“Sunshine~”

Calling him by his favorite nickname made him turn to you. He smiled brightly to see you laying back on the arm of the couch and your arms open wide for him.

Hoseok instantly threw himself into your arms, his face nuzzling your neck. You held him close and ran your hands through his hair, instantly relaxing him. He was so cute being jealous over a video game.

Jimin (Pokemon)

“I’m cuter than these.”

Jimin picked up the Pikachu and Evie plushies on your bed. The random comment while you were both getting ready for his award show threw you off.

“Umm what?” You glanced at him in the mirror.

“These plushies. I’m cuter.”

“Okay?”

You really couldn’t tell where this was coming from, especially because he bought you the plushies.

“Where is this coming from Chim?”

He stuck out his lip and plopped down on your bed. “I just wish you would cuddle me more instead of fictional plushies.”

You sighed and turned to him.

“Jimin we don’t have time for this, we are already late and you haven’t even put on your tux!”

“But I’m cuddly and lonely!”

Rolling your eyes you got up and went to stand beside him. The only way to get through to this gigantic man child was for you to give him what he wanted… sort of.

You bent down to run your fingers through his hair making him turn to nuzzle further into you. “Chimmy baby.”

He opened his eyes and hummed in response.

“If you get ready now I’ll make sure to give you all the cuddles when we get back… maybe more if you're good.”

You winked at him and went back to getting ready, but not before hearing your boyfriend jump off his bed and rushed to the closet to get dressed.

Taehyung (My Hero Academia)

Watching anime was something you and Taehyung liked to do together. Even if he had already watched the series, he would sit you down and re-watch everything.

For him it was an excuse to spend more time with you, his crush since the day you two met. He made his feeling super obvious, but you just thought he was naturally clingy and a sweet talker. It never occurred to you that he would like you.

Now it was Friday night, the boys were out on the town and it was just the two of you in the dorms with anime and popcorn.

“Today we will start an anime I’ve been really into lately.”

He smiles his signature boxy smile that made your heart flutter.

Tae reached for the computer and booted up the first episode of My Hero Academia.

“You ready for this ride?” He asked settling into the couch, put his arm around you for optimal cuddles, and pulled the blanket up to cover you two.

You snuggled into his side and nodded.

3 episodes later and you were hooked. Already sitting on the edge of the couch, staring intently at the computer screen, and out of Taehyung’s arms.

You had moved away from him about halfway through the 2nd episode and he couldn’t help but pout.

Again not that you noticed though.

As the episode ended you turned to talk to Taehyung about it, but noticed his arms were crossed over his chest and hip lower lip was sticking out in a pout.

“What’s wrong Tae?”

“My cuddle buddy left me for the show.”

You laughed at his childish jealousy. How can one man be so cute?

“I’m sorry Tae. Here let me make it up to you.” You crawled back to him and grabbed his arms, manually unfolding them enough for you to snuggle back into his side, your head on his chest.

He blushed at your sudden boldness but quickly held you close and made sure you didn’t move again during the next few episodes.

Jungkook (Overwatch)

“Kookie!!”

Your boyfriend has been sitting at the computer for hours playing Overwatch. You knew it was his favorite game, but he had promised you date night since he had to cancel the last 2 dates. “

Just one more level (Y/N) we are almos- OH COME ON!”

You rolled your eyes at him and sat on his bed. After 5 more minutes you had given up trying to get him to come to date night and went to watch him play instead.

You never really understood Overwatch, but that’s because you weren’t the best at first person shooters. You did like the characters though.

McCree was hot.

You hummed appreciatively as you saw him run across the screen and it didn’t take long for Jungkook to see you staring at the screen with heart eyes. He stuck his tongue in his cheek and paused the game.

“Why did you pause?”

“Didn’t I say we were doing date night?” Jungkook shut off his computer, got up and started for the bathroom leaving you confused.

“I mean… yeah but your game.”

“And have you gawk at McCree? No thank you. You are my girlfriend.” And with that he left and you were still so confused.

[hockeylvr59]

Crush || Matthew Tkachuk

Requested: [ ] yes [x] no

Authors Note: So I’m not sure how I feel about this because Matthew’s personality is difficult for me. I know he’s normally sarcastic and confident but I feel like if he’s hiding a crush he’d be a little different. And throw in a kid and that brings out even more softness so I don’t know if this feels like him at all….but let me know what you think. I was watching his NBCSports interview from the all-star game and tried to base his temperament on that but idk how accurate I got. 

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2,262

~~~~~~~~

The cool air of the rink was the same. The feeling of his skates cutting through the ice was the same. The sound of sticks on pucks and his teammates chirping was the same. Everything about today’s practice was the same except for one thing...

Practice had started five minutes ago and his favorite team photographer wasn’t in her normal spot on the bench. 

Matthew couldn’t recall the last time that y/n had missed a practice. Her presence was such a part of the routine by now that for some reason her absence left him feeling bothered. Standing at the blue line, Matthew tried to pay attention to his coach’s instructions, determined to push past this unsettled feeling. Skating hard toward the net, he buried a puck past Rittich, a flash of movement from the bench catching his eye as he returned to his previous spot. Before he could assure himself that it was her, that everything was back to normal, Gelinas had pulled him aside wanting to chat about his shot and how to improve his game when breakout chances occurred. 

By the time Coach had finished with him, the next drill had already started. Taking a moment to figure out what was going on, Matthew settled himself at the back of the line before finally taking the chance to glance over at the bench. His heart settled back into place at the realization that the movement had been just who he was hoping it was. In the same millisecond, his jaw dropped as he realized that while she held her camera in one hand, snapping away like usual, things weren’t exactly normal. No...normally y/n didn’t have a baby resting on her hip. 

Lost in thought, Matt didn’t even realize that he was next in line for the drill until Johnny was shoving him from behind. And although Matt attempted to focus and participate in practice, there was one question that wouldn’t leave his mind.

She has a kid?  

You see, while Y/N was a staple at Flames practices, Matt had never actually really talked to her before. Of course, he’d occasionally hover over her shoulder to comment on the photos of him she’d taken, but he really didn’t know anything about her personal life. Admittedly, he had made a point to observe a lack of any rings on her left hand but now...seeing her with a baby made him realize that that observation really meant little to nothing at all. 

Partway through practice, Matthew had watched TJ Brodie skate over to her during a forward-only drill and he watched as she chatted with him, a smile on her face as she adjusted the kid against her side who appeared to cling tighter to her. From the other side of the rink, Gio watched as his young assistant captain eyed their photographer, his obvious crush ever more apparent. No one had said anything to him about the crush yet, but maybe it was finally time to give him a little shove in the right direction. 

A modified scrimmage was set up to conclude the on-ice practice and for a while, Matthew lost himself in the game, forgetting about y/n and the baby on the bench. It wasn’t until the puck deflected oddly off of someone’s stick and he heard a feminine screech of pain that it all came flooding back. Over on the bench, y/n was shaking out her right arm frantically, her fingers clenching into a fist and releasing repeatedly. With play stopped and Ward checking to make sure she was okay, Matthew couldn’t help but listen as she assured his coach that she was fine, that she was more worried about the baby and the camera than taking a bouncing puck to the arm. Still, he noticed the grimace on her face and a rush of anger filled him at the thought of her being hurt. It was a stupid feeling because it was a fluky play and while he cursed himself for it, it was an emotion he was finding hard to control. 

By the time he looked over at the bench again, she was gone, clearly not willing to risk another stray puck flying her way when she really wasn’t able to protect herself. 

The nagging feeling that he should go check on her followed him into the locker room as Matthew stripped out of his gear. He’d have a few minutes between grabbing a shower and the team film session if he was quick. But as he stood in the shower he told himself that it would be ridiculous and weird if he tracked her down. After all, they weren’t friends and the last thing he needed was for his teammates to give him hell over it. 

Still, after throwing on some sweats and a t-shirt, Matt found himself standing in the middle of the hallway, his brain telling him to head to film, while his heart pulled the other way. Caught in a mental debate, he missed Gio walking down the hall from the training room until he was hit in the chest with something thrown by his captain. Catching it, he looked up confused as to why he had an ice pack and a roll of elastic bandage wrap now in his hands. 

“She’s down the hall. Go help her wrap the ice pack around her arm.” Gio directed. 

“Wait. What?” Matt found slipping from his lips. 

“Chuck...she has a kid, not the plague.” Gio declared. “Now go before I have to watch you debate whether you should for a minute longer.” 

“I wasn’t…” Matt attempted to defend himself but Gio just walked away shaking his head before Matt could finish his sentence. Sighing to himself, Matt adjusted the items in his grip before turning down the hall where Gio had pointed, finding y/n sitting on the ground just around the corner with her back against the wall, computer propped up on a box and baby sleeping on her chest. 

Running his fingers through his hair, Matt sighed before approaching, the sound of his footsteps causing y/n to look in his direction. 

“So uh...Gio sent me with an ice pack for your arm.” Matt stated, his voice cracking, driving him completely nuts. 

“Thank you.” She whispered back softly, her lips dropping down to press against the baby’s head in an effort to ensure that it didn’t wake up. Now that he was closer Matthew noticed the pink clothes and though it was gender-biased, he took that to mean that this was a little girl. Unmoving for a moment, Matthew just Y/N with her daughter until she reached up for the ice pack. 

“Oh uh...can I help you? Gio sent a bandage wrap to keep it in place so you didn’t have to hold it.” Matt found himself rambling, something else that was so unlike his normal behavior. When she nodded, he found himself smiling, dropping into a squat beside her and taking the offered arm. “Did you get hit on the front of the arm...or the side?” He questioned, unable to see any signs of bruising as she wore long sleeves. 

“It hit here.” She pointed out, grazing her hand along her daughter’s head as she returned her free hand to the baby’s back. With appropriate direction, it only took a minute or two for Matt to secure the ice pack, and once he was done, he stood back up, his fingers tangling in his hair again. 

“Well...you should be all set.” He stated. “And I should head to film.” Shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweats he turned to walk away, only pausing when he heard her melodic voice say his name. 

“Thanks Matt.” She murmured and it was sad that those two words alone caused his chest to swell. 

As he settled into film he had so many new questions. He had to remind himself that they weren’t any of his business and that his business was to focus on the screen in front of him and not on how gentle she was with her daughter or how wonderful her voice sounded speaking his name. He’d be chirped for weeks if the guys knew where his head was at and he had a reputation to uphold. 

___

By the time they finished watching film, Matt was ready to go grab something to eat before hitting the gym for some weights. Detouring back to the locker room for his forgotten phone, Matt had to walk down by where y/n had situated herself in order to get to the player’s lounge. As he passed the side hallway where he’d see her just an hour or so before he once again heard his name, this time being called out with more volume and energy. 

Though his stomach was growling, Matt was unable to keep walking and so he stopped and turned down the hallway finding Y/N standing over a now awake child. 

“Oh Matt...thank god.” She declared. “Can you do me a massive favor and watch Lottie for a minute while I use the bathroom?” Her words came out in such a rush that by the time his brain processed them she was looking at him expectantly, bouncing on her toes. 

“I don’t…” He started and for the second time today, his protests were being cut off.

“Please?? Just make sure she doesn’t go walking away.” Apparently his body language signaled his agreement because immediately she smiled and kneeled down next to the little girl. 

“Mommy will be right back. Stay here with Mr. Tkachuk and behave. I’m coming right back after using the bathroom.” Though the little girl whined for a moment she eventually nodded at Y/N and with that the woman who was driving him crazy disappeared down the hall leaving him with her daughter. 

If Matt were honest, he didn’t know the first thing about kids and so he stood just watching ‘Lottie’ as she stared back up at him with big brown eyes. Feeling awkward he eventually slid himself to the floor, leaning against the wall, his gaze remaining on the baby as if she would magically vanish if he so much as blinked. 

Y/N had been gone far longer than a minute and Matt found himself glancing down the hallway to see if she was on her way back when he felt two tiny hands pressing down on his thigh as the little girl plopped herself down right next to him, a book lying beside her. As she settled herself, she reached for the book before attempting to hand it to him. 

“M. Chuck...ook peas.” She requested, those big brown eyes staring into his once more. Gently taking the book from her, Matthew opened it and just stared at the page until it clicked that she wanted him to read to her. It was a children’s book, one which had maybe five words a page and so he complied, telling her about the cat and the rat and the bat and the hat. As he turned each page he couldn’t help but marvel at the look that crossed Lottie’s face and as he finished, he nearly jumped hearing Y/N’s voice above him. 

“Tell Mr. Tkachuk thank you Lottie.” With a giggle, the little girl nodded and Matt watched as she brought her fingertips to her chin before moving it away, palm up. 

“Tank u” She babbled before pulling herself up and throwing herself at her mom’s legs. 

“Yes. Thank you.” Y/N echoed, as Matt set the book down and pulled himself to his feet. 

“Was that sign language?” He asked, not even realizing how random of a question that was until it had been asked. 

“It was. She started learning sign language as a way to communicate before she could talk.” Y/N explained. “She doesn’t really need it now, but I think she enjoys it because she pairs it with her words still.” Matt merely nodded in response, his hands finding their way back to his pockets once more. 

“Seriously thank you for watching her. My bladder was about to burst.” Y/N explained. “She’s been so clingy today because she’s teething again and with hand, foot, and mouth disease going around her daycare I had no choice but to bring her with me today and I did not realize how hard it would be to have a clingy sixteen-month-old attached to my hip as I tried to work.” 

“It’s no problem,” Matt assured her, though his brain was now spinning with all of the information she had just thrown at him. She had answered some of his questions, but there were still many more lingering. 

As he lifted weights an hour later, Matthew missed the looks his teammates were giving him as he watched Y/N between reps as she flowed easily between taking pictures of the Flames in the gym and capturing snapshots of her daughter who was trapped into a corner with plyo boxes working on a puzzle. No one commented on the smile that appeared on his face as he watched Lottie bounce on her toes as she called out for her mom to show off her finished foam puzzle, but that didn’t mean that they weren’t storing up ammunition to chirp him later. 

If things went the way the vets had a feeling they would, there would be plenty of time to do just that in the future.