#had to put her in the diana hair it works so well on her

[theeflowerofcarnage]

Mrs. Villareal whatever happened 2 her............

[cameronspecial]

A New Kind Of Normal (Part 2)

Pairing: Dad!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Cocaine Hangover and Attending Sobriety Resources

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.4K

Summary: Rafe wakes up the next day remembering his mistakes and realizes he needs to change.

Masterlist

The massive headache he has from the cocaine he did last night makes him question why he does it in the first place. Jaw pain is not unusual for him thanks to the substance, but it still doesn’t mean it can’t hurt. He rubs the sleep from his eyes and it helps him clearly see the sweat stain on his pillow. The deep breath he takes brings clarity to last night's events; panic starts to weave through his mind. Y/N is never going to forgive him for going to her house while high and saying what he said. The fury she held is definitely not one he want to meet in court, especially since he built a case against himself. This stress needs to leave him and he knows one substance that would help him relax. It’s the same thing he turns to every time he argues with his dad. He sniffles in an attempt to bring moisture back to his nose, but it doesn’t work. His hand shakes as he tries to open the ziplock bag filled with the white substance. 

And then he thinks about those small blue eyes that match his eyes. The excitement in her voice as she saw her mother. The way her beautiful hair blew in the wind as she ran around the counter. It stops his fingers from going any further. If he keeps turning toward drugs, he will never get to see her again. She’ll never get to know that he is her daddy and that he cares for her even if she doesn’t him. She’ll never get to tell him about her favourite TV shows or food. He wonders if she needs a night light to go to sleep and how many stories she likes to read before bedtime. He doesn’t even know his own daughter’s name. 

He needs to change because he wants to find all that stuff out. He told Y/N that he would’ve changed if he knew about their daughter and he is going to prove that he truly meant it. The first thing he needs to do is get a therapist and get clean. That’s his new goal. All he wants as of now is to be the best father he can be to the little girl. 

——

“I’m Rafe and I am an addict.” The other members of the meeting all retort with the typical anonymous meeting greeting. He didn’t think he had a problem, but his therapist begged to differ. She says that if he really wants to be in his daughter’s life, he has to show Y/N that drugs aren’t more important than their daughter. “I started using it when I was in my senior year of high school,” he starts to explain. “Most parents say they don’t have a favourite when their kids ask, but my dad was different. It was always clear to me that my younger sister was his favourite. No matter what I did, Sarah was the perfect one and I was the worthless one. Coke was the only thing that made his tiny voice in my head stop.” The group gives him sympathetic nods. They wait for him to continue, “I think that’s all I’m going to share for today. That’s all I need to get off of my chest right now.”

“Thank you for sharing,” Diana thanks. The meeting goes on and Rafe listens intently to the others’ stories. Listening to their journeys, he couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen the signs of his own addiction before. The clacking of chairs folding finds his ears as he helps clean up. He doesn’t hear Diana’s footsteps as she approaches him, “So what made you decide to get sober if you don’t mind me asking?” He looks at her and finishes putting the chair he is holding away. “No, I don’t mind. Um… I recently found out that I have a daughter. I didn’t react so great when I found out that she was kept a secret from me, so I realized I needed to get better for her.” 

“It’s good that you realized you needed help. What’s your little girl’s name?”

“I actually don’t know. I was too high to ask. Another reason why I need to get sober is so I can get to know her.” 

“I see. Well, if you need a sponsor, I would be more than happy to help. I’ve been sober for three years. I know how difficult it can be to try to change.”

“That would be great. I’ve been sober for a day and I’m already struggling with it a little bit.” 

They exchange numbers before Rafe goes on his way to his next meeting of the day. 

——

Anger management right after a narcotics anonymous meeting may not have been the best idea on Rafe’s part. He really did want to get better, but with therapy, he has been doing a lot of talking about his feelings and it is exhausting to him. “And what do you think your anger triggers are, Rafe?” Corey asks, leaning forward in his chair. Rafe feels irritation fill him, “If I knew, then why would I be in anger management?” The look Corey gives him makes Rafe feel like he is receiving a warning from a parent. 

He cowers a little under the look. “Okay, I’m sorry for being snippy. But I’m hoping that I can figure this out. I want to figure out what makes me angry and how I can express that anger in a healthy manner,” he reasons. Corey agrees with his statement, “That’s exactly why I am here to help. Why don’t we talk about times you were angry?”

“The last time I was angry was when I found out that someone I slept with five years ago had my baby and didn’t tell me for five years.” 

“Right and were you more angry about the lie or the fact that you had a kid?”

“I am more upset by the lying. I told myself that I would be a better parent to my child and she didn’t give me a chance to do that.”

Rafe feels nervous with Corey’s eyes on him; today is the most he has been vulnerable since the night he met Y/N. “That is very angering. Now, how do you think you could’ve managed your anger?” Corey pushes, moving one leg over the other. Rafe takes a second to think, “I should not have gotten high that day. Instead, I should’ve opened communications with her. She tried to talk to me before I ran off, but I didn’t give her a chance.” “That’s right, Rafe. This is a very good start for your first session,” Corey applauds. 

——

The blast of music can be heard from outside the front door. Rafe has to laugh at the off-key and incorrect lyrics that are sung about five seconds too late. His daughter might look like his twin, but she seems to have inherited her mother’s musical abilities. He pauses as his fist lifts to knock on the door. The two girls in the house have their own lives. They already know how they fit into each other’s lives and he could off-balance their equilibrium by worming himself into it. He can’t mess up being a father if he isn’t in her life. But then he also couldn’t be a great father if he just left without trying to make things right with Y/N. 

He shakes off his anxiety and knocks on the door. The singing stops and the music dims. He can hear her footsteps approaching the door. Vanilla. It seems to haunt him whenever he is around her. He is glad fear doesn’t flash through her eyes when she sees him. He wouldn’t be able to handle knowing he caused her to feel that way. 

Her hair falls over her shoulder as she looks over at their daughter behind her. “Stella. Why don’t you go play in your room, Baby?” Y/N suggests, blocking Rafe from the little girl’s sight. Stella shoots up from the couch, “Okay, Mommy.” Her little running legs slowly down at the calling out from her mother to walk. With Stella out of earshot, Y/N finally gives him her full attention. “So her name is Stella. It means star, doesn’t it?” he thinks out loud. She slowly nods her head, “Yeah, I thought of it when I was stargazing while I was pregnant. Plus, my grandmother’s name was Luna so I thought it was a good homage to her. Rafe, I thought I made it clear that I didn’t want to see you again unless you were suing me.” His hand moves his watch face back and forward on his wrist. He doesn’t want to look her in the eyes. 

“It’s a beautiful name. And you did make it clear. I want to apologize first. I shouldn’t have shown up to your house high. I probably scared you and Stella, which I never meant to do. 

“Apologizing won’t fix the fact that you came over high while my daughter was in the room.”

“I know, I’m sorry. But seeing our little girl, Y/N. I never thought that I could feel so much love for a person I didn’t know before. It made me realize that I need to change. So I started going to NA, anger management and therapy. I want to be mentally healthy. For Stella.” 

He can see the way she is processing his words and it gives him hope that he has a chance. “Rafe, I’m glad you are trying to get better. I really am, but I don’t know if I can trust you. You haven’t shown me that you are responsible enough to be Stella’s father,” Y/N explains and she doesn’t want to admit that the sad look on his face causes her some pain. He finally has the courage to look at her, “I understand. I wouldn’t trust me either. All I’m asking is that you give me a chance to show you that I am serious about being there for her. I’m hoping that if I stay sober for a month, you might consider letting me meet Stella as her father.” The silence that comes from Y/N absolutely kills Rafe and he feels like time is dragging on. “Okay. Stay sober for a month and Stella can meet you. But I want to meet you every week to get to know you more to make sure you are someone who can be around her,” she offers.

Rafe’s smile fixes the pain she felt before. He throws his arms around her to give her a hug, “Thank you so much, Buttercup! Can you do dinner tomorrow night?” That nickname. God, she didn’t think she could feel this many butterflies in her stomach at a simple name. She remembers why they are having this conversation and removes herself from his arms. “Dinner feels too romantic. How about lunch?” she counters. He gives her a thumbs up as he walks backwards toward his truck, “I can do lunch, great. I’ll pick you up at twelve. See you tomorrow.” 

He gets in his car and starts it. As he does so, he feels a pang shoot through his heart. She didn’t like the idea of going on a date with him, which tomorrow wasn’t going to be. He doesn’t know why he feels that way about it. He shakes off the feeling and focuses on the road.

——

Given that they are here because of Rafe, he offered to pay for lunch. They had decided on a small cafe near her house. “Were you able to find a babysitter? I can pay them for you if you need,” he states, playing with the food on his plate. She shakes her head at his offer, “My brother is watching her, so you don’t need to pay anybody. I certainly don’t need you paying for anything else either. I’ve been able to provide for her just fine so far.” “Right, right. I’m not saying that you can’t take care of her. I just want to make up for not being there for the first few years of her life,” he clears up. She takes a bite out of her sandwich, “You don’t need to make up for not being there. I knew where to find you and it was my choice not to tell you.” 

“Right…So you have a brother?” 

“I do. I have two actually. An older one and a younger one. How about you? You have a sister, if I remember correctly.”

His heart flutters at the fact that she remembers him talking about Sarah. He looks up to see that her attention is fully on him, “Yeah. I have two younger ones. Sarah and Wheezie.” “Wheezie. That’s an interesting name,” Y/N tries to pretend it isn’t strange. Rafe chuckles at the look on her face, “It’s a nickname, Buttercup. Don’t worry.” “Of course, I’m glad your parents had enough reason not to make that her legal name,” she jokes. Her beautiful smile that Rafe loves has returned, “Me too.” “How are you feeling about being sober so far? Any withdrawal symptoms?” she worries. He feels a twitch in his hand at the mention of his sobriety, “I’m not going to lie. It’s hard. I’m always tired, I’m more hungry than normal and I feel an unpleasant itch throughout my whole body. Not to mention the need for the drug is driving me crazy. But then I think about Stella and remember what I am doing this for.” 

The corner of her lips turns upwards at the thought of Stella helping Rafe stay strong. He must truly feel a love for Stella if she is helping anchor him during these trying times. “That’s good,” she says. “Button, I know I said I didn’t want to see you again, but if you ever feel the need to talk to someone, you can come to me. I know that addictions can be hard to overcome and I can see you really are trying. I want to help so Stella can meet her father.” The genuine care in her voice brings tears to his eyes. He barely knows her, yet she has shown more belief in Rafe’s abilities than Ward has in the twenty-six years that Rafe has been his son. Plus, using the nickname she gave him all those years ago must be a good sign that they are on the right track. “Thank you, Buttercup. It really means a lot to me that I have your support.” 

Taglist: @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @drewstarkeyswifehoe @kisstaya @magicalyoura @mp-littlebit @loverfu55ii

[thebigbadbatswife]

Day 19 - Exhibitionism & Voyerism

Pairing - Diana of Themyscira x F!Reader

Warnings - 18+ content, if you're under 18 leave immediately! Exhibitionism and voyerism, mutual masturbation

Summary - You put on a show for Diana in the shower room.

Diana hummed as the hot water washed over her muscular body. The battle today had been tough, but fortunately no one had suffered any major injuries. Just a few minor scratches here and there. It had taken a lot out of everyone and, as a result, the Watchtower was almost empty.

Since there seemed to be a moment of peace, she had decided to take the chance to wash the grime of battle from her body. As she washed her hair, using her nails to massage her scalp, she heard a muffled noise. It almost sounded like a moan? She could have sworn that she was the only one in here. She paused, listening, but when no other noise came she continued to wash her hair.

It was as she was rinsing her hair that she heard it again. This time she definitely knew that it was a moan. A rather familiar moan. Were you finally back? Diana gripped the edge of the shower curtain and peaked out into the rest of the room.

You had been away for a while, off on Green Lantern Corps duties, but clearly you were back now. You were in the shower opposite of hers, the curtain was open, leaving your naked body on display. Your back was resting against the shower wall, your eyes closed, lips parted and your hand buried between your legs. It was obvious to her that this show you’d decided to put on is for her and only her. Out of the corner of her eye, at the end of the room, she could see what appeared to be a chair forced underneath the handle of the door. The sight was making her own pussy ache with need.

All that Diana wanted to do was to leave her shower and bury her face between your legs, feeling your juices flow down her chin as she made you come again and again. She held herself back though. She knew how much you enjoyed having an audience as you pleasured yourself. Especially when it was her. Her focus on the way that your fingers slipped inside of your pussy or how you played with your clit. And you absolutely loved it when she started touching herself as she watched. That always worked you up so much. Which typically led to an almost endless night of pleasure for both of you.

The position that you were in made it impossible for her to actually see between your legs, but she could easily imagine the way your fingers caressed your clitoris as you rubbed it. She was starting to feel hot and not because of the water still spraying from the showerhead. She slipped her hand between her muscular thighs, parting her lowers lips and pressing the pads of her fingers against her own clitoris. She gasped softly and was pleasantly surprised by just how wet she was already.

Diana matched your pace as she watched you. By Hera, she loved the sight of you touching yourself like this. She held back her own moans, biting her bottom lip hard, as she wanted to hear your moans. They were always sweet, sweet music to her ears. She knew when you were close. You always got louder, your breathing more erratic and the muscles in your stomach were tensing. She was getting pretty close herself. Pleasure rolling through her in waves.

Months apart and with one disaster after another, leaving neither of you with any time to yourselves had left you both so wound up it didn’t take very long for either of you to orgasm. You were repeating her name like a mantra, hips bucking as you rode out your orgasm. She was quick to follow, muffling her cry of your name. Diana slumped against the wall of the shower, her legs shaking from the intensity of her climax. And to think that you had yet to touch her. Though she was sure that was coming and very soon as well.

There was a moment of silence. The only noises coming from the continuing running shower heads and both of you breathing heavily as you and her caught your breaths. Then you chuckled.

“Enjoy the show, baby?” you called out. She could hear the smile on your lips. You knew that she had enjoyed the show; she always did.

Diana shut the water off and crossed the space between your showers. She pinned you against the tiles and kissed you fiercely. You moaned into the kiss and your hands roamed her body, grabbing and squeezing at her before moving through the thatch of hair between her thighs and finding her clit. She inhaled sharply, her orgasm had left her extremely sensitive and she was sure you would take advantage of that.

Tonight was going to be a long night and she wasn’t sure either of you would be able to walk straight afterwards.

[tomboy014]

The Prince's

So, I hadn’t originally planned on doing anything for Dani, but this post from @aziraphale-is-a-cats-a-cat got me thinking about things, and I ended up writing this.

So, while the men of the Justice League are trying to figure out who Dani is a clone of, Wonder Woman takes one look at the black haired, blue eyed, mischievous girl and can’t help but see herself in her and claim, “Mine.”

The rest of the League try, but there’s no arguing with Diana now that she’s set her mind on something, but Bruce and Clark have kids and know it’s not as easy as it looks to take care of them.  She’s only ever been the “fun aunt;” she’s never had to get into the dirty, exhausting parts of parenthood before.  It escalates to a full-blown argument, but if Dani has any say in it, she’d rather chill at Wonder Woman’s place for a while.  It sounds better than staying in some gross cave or ice castle, and space isn’t her thing (the same way it’s Danny’s), so she’d rather not stay in the Watchtower.

Arguments about clones and custody continue over the next few weeks, not helped by the fact that Dani is still pretty unconcerned about the whole situation.  Or, she was unconcerned until Vlad showed up.  He’d decided enough was enough and it was long past time he collect his property.

It only takes a single scream.

Diana bursts into the room, fist connecting with Vlad’s jaw, and he’s knocked across the room.

“Don’t.  Touch.  My child.”

She proceeds to hand his ass to him on a bronze platter before he flees into the night, bruised and bloody.

Now it’s Dani’s turn to latch onto Diana’s leg, shouting “Mine!”  This is her new, kick-ass mommy and no one else can have her.  Dibs!  No take backs!  Well, it’s settled, now.  Diana is officially Dani’s mom, and no member of the JLA can stop it.  She scoops Dani up in her arms, and before she’s even out the door, she’s already telling the other Amazon’s the good news and making plans to take Dani to Themyscira to meet her γιαγιά Hippolyta. 

The two work on figuring out family life, and all’s good for a while.  Dani’s got a (relatively) stable home life and is quickly adapting to life as “Danielle Prince.”  She likes that the name sounds similar to Diana’s, like it was on purposeful choice rather than a cheap knockoff of her original’s name, and she’s getting a lot more comfortable with it.  Bruce, thoroughly defeated and resigned to put away the adoption papers, helps her enroll is a good school and finds tutors to catch her up on the years of schooling she didn’t live through.  (This includes Jason Todd, who has volunteered himself as an excuse to hang out with Wonder Woman more.)  Louis helps her get legal paperwork and documents for Dani (something she helped do for Kon).  She makes friends with Damian and Jon.  And she’s just as skilled as Danny with language, so she’s picking up Greek rapidly.

Since Diana’s adopted her and she’s gained an army of superpowered babysitters, Dani is finally starting to feel comfortable enough to share some information with the League.  It’s not much, but she lets them know Plasmius is the one who cloned her, and her last name used to be Fenton.

Oh, no.  Between those colors and facial features, Clark has a pretty good guess at which Fenton family she came from.  Still, the family is enormous, so he doesn’t know which Fenton exactly was cloned, but the family reunion is this year, and wouldn’t hurt to give Dani a bigger support system.  Would she and Diana like to come?

Vlad, meanwhile, has recovered and is pissed.  After shadowing Wonder Woman from a healthy distance, he finds out she’s supermodel Diana Prince.  Plasmius may not have been a match for Wonder Woman, but billionaire Vlad Masters is more than capable of taking some supermodel down a peg or two.

So, he approaches Diana at work, telling her he knows who she is and that he wants his “daughter” back.  His “minion” might not have been a match for her, but if she refuses to comply, he’ll ruin her career.

And she laughs.  Laughs right in his face.  Loudly.  Because she knows he’s bluffing.  A billionaire and supermodel isn’t anything new as far as the media is concerned; it’s a cliché.  But a deadbeat billionaire dad threatening to steal back an illegitimate child from an abandoned single mother?  After years of not paying any child support?  The media would eat something like that right up.  Something that could drop stock prices and ruin political careers.  That’s something anyone would be desperate to keep hushed up and out of the media spotlight, and she’ll drag him kicking and screaming into said spotlight if he comes anywhere near her daughter.  Or maybe the media would prefer to know the real story about his illegal cloning?  After all, that went over so well for Lex Luthor. 

Vlad leaves, and Diana makes a few calls.  First, she makes sure Clark heard everything in that conversation and sets him on the warpath against DalvCo if need be.  She gets Bruce up to speed, and if there’s one thing he’s in the best position to do, it’s to hit Vlad where it really hurts: his wallet.  Vlad was already a pretty scummy businessman.  Wayne Enterprises didn’t need much of an excuse to cancel or back out of business deals with him.

But Diana is still shaken up by the event, even if she’s not going to let it show.  Right now, she wants to send Dani away to Themyscira behind a wall of Amazons where she knows no one will be able to touch her, but Bruce and Louis talk her down.  Dani’s finally settling into a normal-ish life, and uprooting her now will not help her, and if push comes to shove, trying to whisk her away will not look good to the courts.  Louis knows a great lawyer, and Bruce is willing to foot the bill.

For Vlad, that did not go as expected at all.  He hadn’t expected her to know Danielle was a clone, and he doesn’t want Danielle to be public knowledge.  However, he has no intention of getting lawyers involved; she’d be expecting that.  No, he has something far more insidious planned.  It’s been decades since he’s attended one, but the Fenton Family Reunion should be coming up soon, and as far at that family is concerned, once a Fenton, always a Fenton.  She’s prepared to fight lawyers?  Well, Let’s see how she fares against an army of angry grandparents and disapproving aunts demanding that his poor child be returned to him once he sets the family on the warpath.

[meow-town]

Dee x Fem! Very Girly! Reader

Requested by @grape-flavored-lipgloss !! Took me a while because I wanted to mass-post a bunch of requests, but I really hope you enjoy this! (Pretty long because I adore this idea and went a little bit off of the rails)

Summary : Dee with very girly s/o who wears a lot of pink. The Shvagenbagens don’t necessarily like her at first but she gets them to warm up to her.

-You definitely weren’t the person he expected to fall for. He expected to start liking someone with his style, his taste in music, similar interests. Someone like Lif, to be honest.

-Obviously, you weren’t the person he’d want to date the least. Diana easily takes that spot.

-He recognized your sweetness, and how kind you were. You knew how to dress, and you obvious took care of yourself.

-The science fair was coming up, and teams were assigned for projects. His teacher forgot to sort him into a team, and when they found out, they were both pissed.

-The teacher, cause Dee hadn’t told him anything. And Dee, because now he couldn’t work alone like he wanted to. (Not me basing this off of my dee x reader story)

-Anyways, he got paired up with you and some other kid who didn’t do jack shit to contribute to the project.

-You we’re constantly nice and kind, and never got very aggressive with the other student, despite his laziness. You would give great ideas, constantly be giving words of encouragement to Dee when going through experiments, offer to hold equipment, etc, etc…

-You were a team, which means you all shared a group chat, which means he had your number. (Thankfully he already had it before he started crushing, otherwise he never would’ve worked up the courage to ask you for it).

-Because Dee’s petty as hell, he put credits in the science project so the teacher would know that you and him were the only ones who did work. He deleted the group chat, as well.

-After that, you spent the rest of the science fair with each other. People would crowd around your project stand, amazed. Because, lets be real, it’s Dee. He would explain how it worked, and you shared the thought process behind it.  -After that, he invited you to a drink at the vending machines, his treat. What a gentleman.

-You two had a conversation over fizzy sodas (or something else, if you don’t like those) and mostly complained about peers or teachers you hated. It brought you together, to say the least.

-He began to text you more, talk to you more and even choose to spend time with you over Lif! Lif!

-mf didn’t even notice he was crushing on you. He was just looking at you during lunch and it clicked.

-Dee’s internal monologue:

‘Are those new earrings? They look great. I should buy some jewelry for her, I know she likes that one brand. They match perfectly with her makeup. … She looks pretty in that makeup. …Prettier than… anyone else.  …

I don’t like her, thought. That’d be weird. She’s just my friend…. A very good friend….A very sweet friend who I can rely on… A very kind friend who just so happens to be the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, sweet little thing. I don’t like  her though, soft as her hair might look and as badly I might want to run my hands through it. Caring as she may be. I don’t like (f/n).

….

HOLY FUCK I LIKE (F/N)’

-The man was too stunned to speak 😦

-When I tell you he turned his head away SO FAST

-His face and neck were as red as a fire truck, and he was starting to sweat bullets.

-He choked on his food.

“Dee? Are you ok?”

-Can’t even face you. His coughing fit was interrupted by small, broken syllables.

“YE *COUGH* YEAH, IM *COUGH* FINE. DONT *COUGH,COUGH* WORRY”

-He went a whole other level of flustered when you started to pat his back. Heart beating at a thousand miles per hour. Palms growing sweatier.

-He couldn’t look at you for a straight WEEK. He avoided you everywhere he went, otherwise the whole blushy routine would start all over again. A part of him wanted to be by your side at all times though, so it was hard for him.

-When he started to hang out with you again, he had to mentally prepare himself for it. Just imagine Dee shouting to himself while he did his makeup every morning.

“Okay, Dee! You will go out there and you will be charming! And handsome! And she will fall for you!”

 -Heavy doesn’t have the heart to tell him that he can hear him from his room.

-Heavy already knew you from around school, and wasn’t judgmental of your style or friendship with Dee whatsoever! He though you looked very pretty, too!

-And back onto that, he gave away his brother.

-You were chatting, waiting for Dee to leave his final period. And out of the blue, Heavy went :

“Yeah, he was planning how to ask you out for months now! Never gets it right either.”

“He what?”

“Wait, he hasn’t told you yet?”

“Noooooo..?”

…

-Of course, you kind of figured and told him you also liked him. He’s really obvious. But the second Dee heard his brother had told you he liked you, he was seconds away from choking Heavy the way he did in the 2nd episode.

-He was really grateful once you reciprocated though.

-He asked for a kiss so shyly, too.

-His hands trembled as they cupped your cheeks 💓💥

-Meeting the folks was… interesting -Glam was very polite, he just didn’t expect a person so different from his son would win over his heart. -And I love Victoria, but she was straight up judgemental 😭

-She’s had a bad experience with girly girls, so she’s initially quite defensive. Thankfully, once you’re gone, the kids confront her about it.

“Ma, what is your problem with (f/n)?”

“Yeah! You keep giving her the stink-eye! She’s nice!”

-She gets super nervous and over sensitive. Glam knows about her past problems with girly girls and talks her through it. She’s on much better terms the next time you meet :)

-It gets awkward with the parents, but once you’ve proven to them you won’t hurt their son and that you’re very sweet, they treat you as a child of their own.

-Ches just full-on didn’t believe you were dating. You passed by his shop with Dee and Heavy and he cackled when Heavy told him you were dating. Once things got cleared up, he was very supportive although surprised.”

“Wow, you actually got a girlfriend. And here I thought you were going to be one of those guys who stays a virgin until 40…”

“UNCLE CHES-”

-Lif through your dynamic was super cute and she drew you two together! (Also she’s very glad Dee likes you because she was scared of rejecting the guy)

[notroosterbradshaw]

47 + hangman please if you don't mind <33

PROMPT: 47 ''i've had a terrible day at work so just kiss me'' Here we go, nonny (I didn't forget about this... I just lost it in my drafts, sorry!) x

"Babydoll, " Jake smiled, greeting you at the door. His 'time off' beard growing in nicely, hair shaggy and you just loved it messy and a little longer. You were the luckiest person alive, you knew this. Coming home to this specimen? How did he get sexier? Walking into your shared villa feeling as generic as you did almost seemed criminal. "Welcome to Seresin Cocktail Hour. Please leave your bag by the door," he announced. "And clothes are optional," he did a little boogie, wriggling his hips, giving you the sultriest eyes you'd ever seen, barefoot, the drinks in his palms threatening to spill. "How was your day, love of my life?"

Without even a hello, you dropped your bag at the door miserably and slid out of your shoes, the floorboards already feeling like home. Pouting, shoulders slumped, you sniped, "Rooster called - he wants his shirt back."

Jake looked down at his shirt of choice, unbuttoned, abs on full display. He was not often brutally rebuffed when he greeted you so willingly. And he thought you liked the green palm tree shirt. He was preparing for Hawaii, and your overdue romantic getaway together next week. A little taken back, he realised quickly -

"I didn't get the promotion. Diana did."

"Oh, babydoll," he sighed, sad for you, sure, but not knowing what you wanted to hear. At last correspondence, you were good friends with her. He approached, knowing you weren't going to go to him. He put the glasses on the entry table, disappointed. He stood before you, his warm palm slinking around your neck and massaging the nape, your eyes fluttering closed, breath releasing. You'd been holding it since the announcement, it was nice to finally get air in your lungs again.

"No, this is s a good thing, she deserves it," you put your palms on his chest, your sadness etched all over your face. "Her presentation was just phenomenal. I'm just being a jealous asshole," you sighed, feeling about 3 feet small. It stung, you thought you were the shoo-in for the new role. You were naive to think you wouldn't be challenged and it would be handed to you on a silver platter.

"You worked really hard, baby. It's okay to be down about it," Jake reminded you, bringing you towards him, the stubble on his chin itchy against your forehead.

"It's just been hard to take, I thought I was a sure thing, Jake," you sighed as he wrapped his strong arms around you tenderly, supportively. You slipped your hands around his waist, hidden under his shirt, feeling his scorching, smooth skin. He moaned quietly.

"I know, babydoll," he kissed your hair and felt your body relax into his warmth. He tugged your hair and pressed his strong palms into your spine, wanting to relieve any stresses he could for you. "I'm sorry, what can I do to make you feel better? I'll do anything you want in there," he pointed to the kitchen. "Or there," he pointed towards the stairs, your bedroom, his eyebrows wriggling suggestively. You knew he was trying to make you smile, and you would never admit how much you wanted to do so. You just needed a few more minutes forlorn.

"Jake," you sighed, melting into him and he kissed your hair. "Please."

"Anything," he reiterated. "Can put a hit out if I need to, as well. Know a guy... or two."

You finally let a giggle escape and he beamed. '"I've had a terrible day at work so just kiss me', please?" you took in his cologne and felt every fibre in your body start to uncoil. His lips peppered soft kisses on your face.

"Whatever you need, my love," he told you simply and moved to hold your jaw in his hands. He stared into your eyes intently, his thumbs gentle against cheekbones before lowering his mouth to yours, lips melding, his slick tongue tracing your lips, begging entry. "Lemme taste you," he almost growled against your mouth, gripping the material of your shirt, fingers digging into the flesh beneath it and bringing you closer. "Babydoll..."

"Changed my mind," you admitted. "First you can do whatever I want in there," you nudged your head towards the bedroom and his eyebrow peaked, tongue skimming against his gleaming teeth eagerly. "Then in there," you pointed towards the kitchen.

"Anything your heart desires, ma'am," he breathed and hitched you into his strong arms.

A/N: the tag list no longer exists. To keep up to date, give @notroosterbradshaw-library a follow and turn on notifications x

[allwaswell16]

All the One Direction fics I read and enjoyed in February 2024. You can listen to my podcast to hear me talk about each of these fics as well as an overview of what was posted on ao3 including the fics on this month’s fic roundup which you can find here! Please let the writers know if you liked the fics by leaving kudos and comments! Happy reading!

Fanfictional Podcast #59 |  ko-fi | fic recs

- Louis/Harry -

🩷 with venom on your tongue by wildestdreams / @thelavendrhaze

(E, 91k, enemies to lovers) a boarding school AU where Harry and Louis are academic rivals until they realize they’re more similar than they thought

🩷 another dream but always you by you_explode / @nobodymoves

(M, 60k, superpowers) Harry is a Dreamwalker; he has the ability to visit people in their dreams and help put them on the right path. He's assigned to Louis, who's struggling after the break-up of his band.

🩷 through walls of trees by @ineverateakiwi

(T, 41k, fantasy) Elesdon is a country divided into five kingdoms and had long been considered peaceful. After a coup in the heart of the country, Lady Sulia ascended to the throne and imprisoned the four courts, stripping them of their powers. With the exception of King Louis Tomlinson, who submitted to her favors.

🩷 Get Out Of My Head (and I'll get out of yours) by Imogenlee / @imogenleewriter

(E, 29k, exes) “You really that desperate, are you?” Despite it being a shitty thing to say, Harry didn’t mind too much, as the bitterness in Louis’ tone sounded like music to Harry’s ears. Harry was winning tonight. “Can’t find anyone new to be interested in you, so you try to hit on Zayn.”

🩷 this love is alive by @stylinsonwritingpalace

(E, 10k, writer Louis) When Louis's favorite fictional character, Harry Styles, comes to life, it's up to him to decide if he should stay.

🩷 Pretty and Preposterous by @brightlyharry

(NR, 5k, neighbors) Harry donates a copy of Pride and Prejudice to his little free library. He never expects what comes next.

🩷 In Jest by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup

(T, 4k, soulmates) Louis, who smiles at Harry as he reclines in his chair. Louis, whose soulmark is visible thanks to his low-cut top. Louis, Harry’s soulmate, who seems to either be blissfully ignorant of that fact or maliciously ignoring it.

🩷 All This Time (I was Waiting for You) by @ohharold

(E, 4k, vampire/fae) Harry and Louis have always been destined for each other. Some time apart has Harry reminiscent of their first meeting.

🩷 Jealousy Looks Good On You, Baby by cigarettesbeforesex

(M, 4k, pwp) A flirtatious stranger wanted to entice Louis by buying him a drink from the bar. The handsome 29-year-old tavern manager with curly hair, who Louis (often) flirts with, is currently working on shift...Poor Curly, because he's the one that has to deliver the drink to him.

🩷 the "Falling" series by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed

(T, 4k, exes to lovers) Harry looks like he wants to say something but thinks better of it, and just nods, putting the CD in a box that’s filled with all kinds of knick knacks from their bedroom. Or, no. Louis supposes it is his bedroom now. Or will be, after today.

🩷 spring in your eyes by @nouies

(NR, 3k, fake relationship) “Just Go with It” inspired AU where plastic surgeon Harry pretends to be married to his assistant Louis to avoid unwanted attention.

🩷 Dirty Diana by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright

(E, 3k, epistolary) In the month leading up to his 30th birthday, Harry writes to his confidante Diana every day, sharing his fantasies about Louis.

🩷 From the Dining Table by @littleroverlouis

(E, 3k, established relationship) Harry's thirtieth birthday hasn't gone as expected. Things start looking up from the dining table.

🩷 You Could Give That Aspirin the Headache of Its Life by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28

(M, 3k, exes) the one where Louis is a football player who gets stuck on a flight with his ex-boyfriend Harry. The universe might be conspiring against him, or is it?

🩷 What’s in a Name by @hellolovers13

(T, 2k, soulmates au) Louis had always known Harry was his soulmate. The name on his arm disagreed. But what did his soulmark know about true love anyway.

🩷 miles away from seeing you by LiveLaughLoveLarry / @loveislarryislove

(T, 1k, social media) Harry is in his final year studying marine biology, and is doing an international exchange at the University of Auckland. His boyfriend Louis stays behind in England, but they keep in touch regularly through texts, snapchats, video calls, and more.

- Rare Pairs -

🩷 Can You Feel Where the Wind Is by @fallinglikethis

(M, 3k, Zayn/Liam) He remembers arguing that he had no real power over anything, so no one would care about him, let alone try to hurt him. But that assessment had proven to be untrue today.

🩷 Skin on My Skin by Layne Faire / @laynefaire

(E, 2k, Zayn/Liam) Let me touch you where you like it Let me do it for ya

🩷 Stray by @haztobegood

(E, 1k, Zayn/Harry, Harry/Louis) Finally, Louis catches a glimpse of familiar curls weaving through the crowd. The man’s arm is firm around Harry’s waist until they stop in front of the booth. “I found this stray wandering around. I believe he’s yours.”

[luvrrgirl444]

chapter 17: princess diana and her horse

“hello everyone.” a sleepy, deep british voice said to the camera. it was eren. his hair was messy and his eyes were sleepy - it was obvious that he had just woken up.

“usually i’m behind the camera, so this is very weird for me.” eren nervously said to the device, while trying to tame his messy hair.

“it’s currently-” he checked his phone, “-8:30 in the morning, and my flight to new york is at 11.”

“i was supposed to be going to new york tomorrow, with ymir and the others, but i decided to make a few changes so that i could surprise y/n.” he sleepily smiled.

“she thinks that we’re meeting tomorrow night, after our show, but i’m going to be suprising her today, with the help of her friends. so thank you, connie, jean and sasha.”

“alright, i’m gonna go get dressed and i’ll see you when i’m at the airport.”

“i’ve seen y/n do this, so i’ll try. goodbye.” he finished, before placing his hand onto the camera and making it go black.

🫧

the next clip was of the airport. he filmed the interior, as well as himself for a few seconds.

it then jumped to him sitting in the airplane window seat, before he turned the camera to record the sky.

🫧

the new few clips were of the new york airport.

“so, i’m now in new york and it’s 1 in the afternoon.” eren told the camera, with a small smile on his face. the smile then disappeared.

“i’m currently waiting for these two bastards to pick me up. they told me that they’d be here when i arrived, but i’m here and they’re not. fucking liars.”

a few minutes passed, before a car stopped in front of him and a horn was blown. he flipped the camera as the passenger window slowly opened.

“YOOOOO ITS FUCKING PRINCESS DIANA” connie shouted with a look of fake disbelief.

both eren and jean rolled their eyes.

🫧

in the next clip, the trio were now at target.

“wassup!” connie told the camera.

“we’re in target right now, because lover boy over there-” he flipped the camera and zoomed into eren’s face. “-wants to get shit for his girl.”

“we already got her favorite snacks n shit, now he’s getting flowers.”

jean threw a bag of chips into the cart before pushing it towards the flowers, where eren was.

“there’s princess diana and her horse” connie said, while following jean. making me deviously giggle.

jean turned his head and raised his eyebrow. “the fuck are you giggling at?”

“nothing, nothing.”

“which ones should i get?” eren asked, with a bouquet of red roses in one hand and a bouquet of pink in the other.

“i know pink’s her favorite color, but red roses are more romantic.”

“bro, no matter what color you pick, she’s still gonna be all over you.” jean said.

connie nodded, “horsie’s right.”

eren chuckled and put both bouquets in the cart.

“that works too.”

🫧

“you guys might be wondering, ‘how is he gonna sneak in while y/n’s home?’. well, to answer your question, she’s not home. she’s out with sasha.”

“and they’re coming home in about 40 minutes, so we’re gonna go set everything up in her room right now.”

🫧

“everything’s all set up now, and i forgot to show the special gift that i got her.” eren held up a small velvet box.

“don’t be fooled, i’m not proposing. yet. but, i got her a necklace with my birthstone in it.” he pulled out a necklace that was hidden under his shirt, with a stone on it.

“i have a matching one with her birthstone on it.”

“im honestly very nervous. i hope she likes it.”

🫧

- SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT BUT EREN’S FINALLY IN NYC

taglist !! : @greeniegreengreen @bakuhoes-bxtch @itzgabz22 @princess-jaeger @marsandsaturn @violenthots @roses-arerosies @conniesbbymama @llovergirlll @iheartamajiki @clipperlighter @liliorsstuff-blog @hoohoohope @akvrae @rinslutz @miniaturelunar @sheluvzeren @shigamiryuk @chamomilespetal @booistoleyou @anitatvd @asp7n @heartz444 @thatartistshar0n @vintagexparker @tsukkisukkii @venusinx @seeingivy

[jhkfan123]

enchanted tom blyth | ch. 7

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

✦vii.

you had spent the entire rest of that second day in bed. you canceled the meeting you had planned, and just sat in bed. you slept a little, cried a little, and most of all, you had texted with tom occasionally. he checked in almost every hour of the day. 

when you woke up the day after that, you woke up to no notifications. so you decided to check social media. bad idea. after a few scrolls, another post from tmz popped up. but it wasn't about you and tom. instead, it read: 

RACHEL ZEGLER AND TOM BLYTH DATING RUMORS ARISE. 

you couldn't breath, but you couldn't stop yourself, so you scrolled more. 

THESE TWO STARS SEEM TO BE DATING, HERES ALL THE PROOF YOU NEED. 

you simply began to cry. with tears in your eyes, you clicked on every link you saw. social media was sucking you in. each and every article had photos of them, the way they looked at each other, the way they were each single, the way he hugged her. god. the way he hugged her. even you had noticed it. the only time he had ever given you something similar to that was two nights ago, after the party.  you felt the tears finally run down your cheek.

he had told you. he had told you that he wanted you. well, he had told you enough. and now, a little over a day later, people are talking about them.  the movie had been out for weeks now. why are people suddenly all over them? even press was done.  it was confusing. it was confusing, and shocking, and it was really stressing you out. worst of all, tom hadn't reached out. not once. it was already noon. so either he was ignoring you, or he was somehow not up yet, even though told you he always wakes up early. one of those sounded more plausible.  

you felt like throwing your phone across the room. of course the texts started coming in, from your friends. but none from rachel. none from tom. so you did. you threw your phone on to the edge of the bed, and got up. to distract yourself, you were going to take a self care day. 

extensive skincare, a bath with soaks, everything shower, hair routine. the works.  you started with your hair routine. there was something soothing about putting so much effort into yourself. that got you thinking. there was no reason to put this effort into yourself, and not show it off. 

you were going to pull a princess diana "revenge dress." 

it took almost four hours to do everything. you picked out an amazing outfit that you had been saving for a "special day." you just had it ready, waiting in your closet. it had been there for almost a year now, and today was the day you were going to wear it. you thought it was pretty badass. 

when you fixed your hair and fixed your lashes, and finally sprayed your perfume, you were ready. you were going to go shopping. treat yourself. and you were going to make sure people saw you. by that, you, or one of your friends, was going to alert the paparazzi. you were going to shop up and down rodeo drive. 

you got in your car, got to beverly hills, parked, and started your day. starting at hermes, you bought yourself a bracelet, a blanket, and a scarf. your favorite associate was working, and they had let you in on the fact that they had a birkin bag. in store, and they wanted to give it to you. even better.  when you finally checked out, owning your new birkin. when you left the store, there were paparazzi. and lots of them. it was perfect. 

with the paparazzi following, you made your way to chanel. you decided to only purchase one thing there. next, was prada. you purchased a pair of loafers, a bag, and a few pieces of clothes. the crowd was getting bigger and bigger with each store you left. the security guards of the stores eventually had to help you get in and out. 

Leaving prada, you crossed the street. it was time for van cleef and arpels. you had always wanted a piece.  and today was the day you were going to get it. when you walked in, they greeted you and showed you to the necklaces. but you already knew what you wanted. the 10 motif. the vintage alhambra necklace. it was your dream necklace. if not now, then when? 

at some point during the checkout, you became hesitant. but that quickly went away. the second you stopped thinking about your plan, you would think about tom. and rachel. so, you kept shopping. you didn't want to deal with that right now. however, you figured this was going to be your last stop. you starting struggling to carry the bags. 

when you took your card out of the reader, and they handed you your bag, you took a breath. then, you went outside. it was a long walk back to your car, with the paparazzi. you took another deep breath, and made your way outside. this time, they started talking to you. you heard things along the lines of:

"what have you bought?"

"what are you wearing?"

"why the sudden spree?"

"is this about rachel and tom?" that one caught your ear. you turned to the man who had asked it, looked in his camera, and shrugged. then, you walked away. you made it all the way to your car, silent, without answering any questions. when you got to the parking garage, you made sure no one got in the elevator with you. what you didn't need, was people following you home. 

you took the back alley out, so they wouldn't find you. 

...

when you got home, you pr team was not very happy with you. because, just like you planned, people were talking about this. and yes, they were getting the idea you had planted. not five minutes after you got home did you see posts: 

ACTRESS Y/N TREATS HERSELF AFTER DATING RUMORS OF HER CO-STAR ARISE.  

THEY WERE OUT TO COFFEE. NOW, HE'S RUMORED TO BE DATING SOMEONE ELSE, AND SHE DOES NOT SEEM HAPPY ABOUT IT. 

SHOPPING SPREE AFTER RUMORS REMINDS FANS OF PRINCESS DIANA.  that one was your favorite. clearly, you had gotten your point across perfectly.  you felt empowered. and this was perfect, because you were going to have to see tom, rachel, and josh at the golden globes tomorrow. while none of you were nominated, you, along with the cast, were invited.  hopefully tom would do the talking tomorrow. 

...

after an entire afternoon of calls from your agents and pr team yelling at you for your behavior, you began to slump back into sadness.  you really were devastated, and it was hitting you now. neither of them had made a post yet, denying what was going on, which only fueled the fire more. also, your little stunt was hitting tiktok, which meant even more of your friends began to notice what you did. you got a little overwhelmed. maybe the impulsive move was a mistake. you realized that this may have made tom upset, or even rachel. 

you had no idea what was going to happen tomorrow. there was a part of you that was excited, but there was also a part of you that just wanted to hide away again. you weren't sure which feeling was going to prevail tomorrow night. .

[1moreff-creator]

Happy Birthday David Chiem!

Usually, for these characters’ birthdays, I do a somewhat half-hearted attempt at a character analysis. But do you think I’m gonna do this for David? Hell no, he’s way too complicated for me to do something like that in this style of post! And I am not making a post that difficult right after that Mai thing.

So, instead, I’m just going to list a few fun facts, because that’s easier. Hope you like it anyways!

(By the way, I’ve always loved that frame of the MV so, so much)

-His birthday lands on “National Book Lovers’ Day”, which says National but is recognized globally. Considering the MV, I’d say that fits. It also coincides with the Annual Perseid Meteor Shower Peak Night, Co-working Day (hah, as if), and get ready, “Hold Hands Day”.

-His profile states he likes ready-make oatmeal. According to the recent Q&A, he can cook, he just prefers not to. This actually fits with quite a few scenes in the series where it’s implied he prefers not to get out of bed unless necessary (mood), such as his brief outburst in the introduction and the several times he’s shown not to eat with anyone else. Though maybe that’s actually caused by him hating people.

-He dislikes expensive things. Kinda based.

-He does TEDTalks, and that’s presumably where he gets his talent from.

-As he stated himself, he has pretty bad bed hair. And apparently, he can summon it at will, as seen in Ch 2 Ep 11.

-His pupils seem to turn into stars whenever he… smiles or puts on a positive attitude? It doesn’t seem to follow a strict logic other than “whenever it looks cool”.

-He has an older sister named Diana. Or, well, that’s what he claims. Footnote 11 of you-know-what may imply she never actually existed. It’s unclear what this means at the moment.

-He seemed to genuinely like Xander, and wanted to be friends with him, as he’d value that relationship more than Xander’s idolatry.

-The secret quote in his page is "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you. I wish you could just die." How nice! This is either talking to himself, or presumably something he'll say to Teruko since their characters do be foiling.

-The quote on Mai's page attached to him is "She forgives everyone." It's the second to last line in the script, before MonoTV's. I have to physically restrain myself from theorizing.

-Some stuff from the Q&As:

*He usually wears semi-formal, 'professional' clothes.

*His blue hair is actually fully natural.

*This is the default sprite for his fuckboy persona:

... But, like, why though. Why's he so sassy.

*Bisexual with a strong female lean. Diversity win! The biggest liar you know is bisexual!

*His favorite color is gamboge (the yellow of his star pupils), stating it’s inspiring; while his least favorite is gray, stating it’s depressing. This could imply he actually likes the cheerier persona he usually puts on more than his real self, or the villainous persona he plays in the trial.

*He handles his feelings badly. We been knew.

*His hair clips were his manager’s idea, to build brand recognition. Apparently David doesn’t like this manager too much, but he puts up with them for the contract. Also, when he takes off his hair clips in the trial, he places them in his PANT POCKETS.

*I’m sure you’ve realized this, but you remember that section of the Q&A where the dev gives details about the family members we had known about from the series (Elliot Cuevas, Felicity Giles, Fuyuko and Natsuko Naegishi, Ryan Moreno/Rosales)? Diana Chiem isn’t mentioned, perhaps further hinting at her non-existence.

*He has an average amount of strength.

*His favorite ice cream flavor is pistachio, because of course it’s pistachio.

*He smells like men’s cologne, but only faintly. Hope you’re happy with that answer, you weirdos (/affectionate).

*He’s American, like everyone else except maybe Teruko.

And now, for his playlist! I kinda already posted this in a reblog to another post, but here it is officially!

+Literature Girl Insane, by Karasuyasabou (I mean, obviously)

+Undead Enemy, by Suzumu and Giga-P (probably his song from the official character playlist)

+Monochrome Mentality, by Riproducer / RIP

+Grey, by QueenPB

+The Distortionist, by Ghost & Pals (CW: Abuse)

+Copycat, by CircusP

+How to Pretend, by CircusP (FNAF pog)

+Echo, by Crusher-P

+God-ish, by PinocchioP

+The Court Jester, by thquib

+DISAPPEARANCE ADDICTION, by Kairikibear

+Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing, by Set it Off

+The Things I Deserve, by Ghost & Pals (CW: suicide)

+All Eyes on Me, by OR3O

+Not Your Angel, by NightCove_theFox (apparently I’m making him into an Alice Angel kinnie)

And, finally…

+Happy birthday! Though he would absolutely despise anyone who tries to sing it to him, I imagine.

[verymuchimmortalcat]

Magic Induced Face Blindness

For Bio Dad! Bruce Wayne Month, Prompt: Take Your Kid To Work ao3 @maribat-bdbwm

The Justice League, simply put, was having a take your kid to work day. Less simply, they were holding an event for all the teenage superheroes. So not exactly a take your kid to work day but there weren’t exactly a large number who weren’t proteges of the Justice League.

Naturally, Ladybug had been invited.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng Wayne has not stopped freaking out about it since.

And not freaking out about it in the Chat Noir way, who’s been so excited that it’s all he talks about on patrol. Freaking out as in lying face down on her floor and cursing her family. Well, mostly her dad.

“Tikki, do you think if I fake cough in front of Chat Noir a few times and tell him I’m too sick to make it he’ll believe me.”

The kwami hums from where she’s settled in Marinette’s hair. “He’ll probably believe you if you’re convincing enough but is that really necessary? What’s the worst that could happen?”

Marinette scoffs. Really, Tikki should know better than to ask such a question. “I’ll walk into the watch tower and someone will immediately figure me out.”

In her one year of being Ladybug, Marinette has learnt that even her sweet kwami does not have infinite patience and Tikki’s exasperation is obvious in her tone when she says, “Marinette. Your identity is protected with magic.”

“The JL has magic users. And I’ve known most of these people most of my life. What if one of the idiots say something so dumb and I insult them and they figure it out and then Chat Noir knows my identity causing the end of the world.”

“Don’t insult them then.”

She scoffs again, “I can’t not insult them. When have you ever not insulted Plagg?”

The ensuing silence speaks for itself but Tikki doesn’t let it go. “You should go. It’ll be good to talk to heroes other than Chat Noir and temporary holders.”

She groans. Maybe if she lies here long enough the carpet will swallow her up and then Tikki can stop trying to convince her to go. “I have most of their numbers, I can talk to them whenever I want. I do talk to them whenever I want.”

The weight on her head vanishes and she feels a poke on her forehead. Lifting her head up, she glares at the tiny goddess of luck, who glares right back. “That’s not what I meant and you know it. None of them know you’re Ladybug.”

She drops her back down to the floor and sighs. “Fine. I’ll go.”

.oOo.

Wonder Woman waves them over when she sees them enter. As the two of them make their way through the crowd, Ladybug keeps her eyes on the floor while Chat Noir’s head swivels around trying to take it all in. What an odd pair they must make.

“Robin looks like an angry kitten,” her partner comments, breaking her out her reverie.

She coughs to hide her laughter. He’s right, of course. But regardless she turns to look at Damian, who’s sulking in the corner while Jon pesters him.

She grins, “I’d kill to watch you tell him that.”

He glances at her and snorts, “Not a chance. Not with that expression on your face.”

She blinks at him, “What expression?”

“The same one you had before you threw me off the Eiffel Tower for going on about the Justice League heroes.”

She smiles at the memory, “You totally deserved it.”

He holds a hand  up to his chest, as dramatic as always, “Meowch!”

She giggles. Diana is only few steps away from them now and is looking at them with an amused expression. Smiling comes slightly easier now, a chunk of her anxiety taken away by her partner’s antics. She whispers a thanks to him before greeting Wonder Woman.

.oOo.

If Diana suspects anything, she doesn’t mention it, nor do any of the others they talk to. But they haven’t had the chance to talk to any of the bats yet. At least Dick and Jay aren’t here, they’d be the most unbearable.

“We should talk to Batgirl,” Chat Noir suggests.

Marinette freezes, magic or not Cass would be the most likely to see through her but she can’t think of a valid excuse and he’d already picked up on her earlier nervousness. If she continues being paranoid, he might start to suspect something.

“Sure,” she mutters.

He waves enthusiastically to Batgirl who offers a small smile. Her gaze lingers on Ladybug and Marinette desperately hopes Cass brushes off anything odd as general nervousness. Thankfully, Chat Noir carries much of their interaction.

He’s gesturing wildly when he accidentally hits her sister’s arm. The arm that Marinette knows was in a cast until last week. Cass doesn’t wince, of course she doesn’t but the concern bursts out of Marinette anyway. “Is your arm ok??”

Chat Noir looks confused but Batgirl is assessing her. It’s a moment before she says, “I’m fine.”

Marinette nods, simultaneously relieved and panicked. She should’ve stayed home. It’s not too late to fake sickness, after all she has been acting particularly odd. When Spoiler calls Batgirl away, Ladybug visibly relaxes. Chat Noir gives her an odd look but he doesn’t say anything. Yet. She’s sure by the time they finish talking to her entire family, he’s going to think she’s lost her mind.

.oOo.

She’s mostly calmed down after her slip up with Cass when they somehow end up talking to Jon and Damian. Well, it’s not exactly talking as much as Robin and Chat Noir antagonising each other. Jon looks torn between interrupting and watching it play out. Marinette on the other hand wishes she had a bucket of popcorn and a valid reason to record their exchange.

When Damian calls the Parisian superhero, “a mangy alley cat,” Marinette snorts out loud and says, “I thought you liked cats?”

Damian stares at her, she can see his hand inching towards his katana as he asks, “How would you know that?”

Play it cool, Marinette.

She shrugs, “You just seem like a cat person. Also, I vaguely remember reading something of the kind on twitter once.”

Both of them know most things about the Bats on social media are deleted almost as soon as Oracle can get to it but people still do see them. He relaxes slightly but Marinette knows he’s wary of her.

Really, why did she let Tikki talk her into this?

.oOo.

Sometime later, Bart finds her in a corner. She’d left Chat Noir saying she needed a break and she could see him as he was talking excitedly with Steph.

“Heydoyoumindansweringaquestionforustosettleanargument?” he asks pointing at the rest of what was once Young Justice (or rather the still active members). Holding back a smile, she considers it for a moment. How wrong could it go? Actually, knowing them any thing and everything that could go wrong would go wrong but her curiosity takes over. Tim’s friends have the most amusing arguments after all.

Bart is bouncing back and forth, waiting for her answer. When, she agrees, he cheers and drags her over to their little group. He doesn’t question how she caught what he was saying instantly or how she’s totally fine even after being carted off with super speed regardless of the distance.

Thankfully, Tim is too busy arguing with Kon to notice.

“I have a solution,” Bart announces, “We ask Ladybug to be the tie breaker.”

And because when they’re together they tend to act on a single functioning braincell, all four of them turn to her at once and Cassie asks, “Do you think having several backup fake identities is necessary?”

Ah, not a new argument then. Honestly, she does. She’s suddenly even more grateful that Chat Noir isn’t with her. “I mean you do need something to fall back on if your go to identity is accused of art theft.”

Tim doesn’t have time to register the jab at him before Kon and Cassie start to rejoice loudly and Marinette slips away before they can drag her into their next argument.

.oOo.

Back in her room, after the event, Marinette sighs. “Well, that was interesting.” Her conversations with the others had gone perfectly well. It was extremely likely that Chat Noir wouldn’t dwell on her mistakes with Batgirl and Robin, and he hadn’t been there when she spoke to Tim. Regardless, she’s never doing that again. Chat Noir can go alone.

Her phone rings and she answers the video call to see a bunch of worried faces.

“Is something wrong?”

“You need to look into Ladybug,” her father states. 

She frowns, “Why?”

“It’s possible Ladybug knows our identities and is a threat.”

Her jaw drops, “What?” 

Marinette remains in semi shock throughout Tim’s explanation. He ends with, “If you need help any of us would be glad to come.”

“Dibs on helping Nettie!” Steph calls finally snapping Marinette out of her shock. Damn, Tikki had been right about the magic. World’s greatest detectives and this was the conclusion they came to?

She glances at Tikki once, making sure she has the kwami’s support in this decision. When Tikki nods Marinette let’s herself laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

It also ends the argument ongoing on the other end of the call. All of them stare at her in confusion until she finishes laughing. Once she’s finally calmed down she asks, “ A room full of detectives and that’s the best you come up with?”

Her father frowns, “Marinette, what-”

“Did it not occur to any of you that I’m Ladybug?”

She bursts into laughter at their startled expressions. Hurrying to take a screenshot and making sure to send it to Babs.

She is so going to lord this over them for at least the next few years.

[rawritzrobin]

Little White Dress

Jason Todd x FemAmazonian!Reader

Prompt: Jason see’s Y/N in a wedding dress and images her being wed to him. 

A/N: The actual request was very long. But I hope I you enjoy it @oyasumimosura (:

Jason wasn't sure why he kept his resurgence a secret from you. You were one of the only people he had ever felt close to. Growing up as the sidekick to one of the most well known superheroes in the world would do that.

He was Robin, sidekick to the one and only Batman.

You were Y/H/N, sidekick to the one and only Wonder Woman.

You two had met at one of Bruce’s fancy Gala’s. Jason had to be dragged there, while you went because you wanted to. Seeing the world outside of Themyscira was still new to you. Diana had warned you of the dangers in the outside world. You always listened to your mentor, yet somehow, you both ended up leaving the party halfway there to go visit a local chili dog man that Jason deemed ‘the best chili dogs in all of the East coast’. Jason was the first boy your age you had ever encountered. You trusted him, even though you had only met him that night. You two became fast friends after that. Whenever the league had big business, you two always met up.

Having a secret identity wasn’t always very easy. Especially when there were basically no heroes your age. So the friendship came naturally. Sadly, it never got farther than that. Jason was going to confess to you at some point. But the Joker ruined that plan.

But deep down, he knew why the Red Hood never introduced himself.

By the time he had finally recovered mentally from the pit, you had hung up your sword and lasso. Jason had followed you home one day. Funny enough, he spotted you at the chili dog cart. He was surprised to see you were in Gotham. He didn’t exactly have the best relationship with the league given his reputation. He couldn't just walk up to Wonder Woman and ask about you.

Which is why he kept a close eye on you after spotting you in Gotham that day.

You were living in a small apartment in Old Gotham. You didn’t seem to live a lavish lifestyle. You kept to yourself mostly. He was quick to learn that your day job was now working at a luxurious dress shop in the Diamond District. It didn’t take him long to learn your schedule. He was a little disappointed that you had given up a life of superheroing to be a regular Gotham civilian. But you often ended your days with a smile. He was happy you moved on from his death.

He often followed you home at night. He knew you could defend yourself if anything ever happened, but he just wanted to make sure you were safe.

He stopped by one night to see that the store was still open, well after closing time. He noticed there were a few rich looking people in the shop. Rich folk often asked for special treatment, so your team was likely keeping the shop open just for them. Crime was slow that night, so he kept his distance and watched from afar.

*******

“Thank you so much for accommodating our appointment.” The future bride said to you. Her mom merely kept her head held high and nodded.

You were exhausted from working a 10 hour shift. But your boss had asked you to stay an extra 2 hours to help two exclusive customers shop for a wedding dress. Exclusive was code for “Rich folk who had lots of money to spend”. So you obliged and put on a happy face to greet the customers.

After about 30 minutes of shopping, the bride and her family had finally picked out about 5 dresses. You and your co-worker were glad that they only chose 5. People like them usually wanted to see every dress on the rack.

After trying on four of the dresses, they were down to the last one.

“Do you mind trying this one on for me?” The bride asked out of nowhere.

“Me? Why me? Don’t you want to try it on?”

“Well, your hair is the color I want to dye my hair for the wedding. And I want to see it on someone with that hair color.”

“Well we usually don't do that.”

Your coworker nudged you in the side and whispered, “Just do it so we can go home.” In her regular voice she said, “Of course Y/N can do it! And would you look at that, the dress is her exact size!” She said happily, taking the dress from the girl and handing it to you. All while shoving you toward the dressing room.

It took a few minutes as you weren't exactly wearing the correct undergarments for a wedding dress. You smiled after seeing yourself in the mirror. You hadn’t really thought about ever getting married. Growing up as an Amazon, you never really thought about dating, let alone actually being in a committed relationship with anyone. You had to admit, the dress was beautiful. It wasn’t something you would want to wear at your wedding, but the delicate lace and perfect fit made you look like one hell of a bride.

You took a deep breath, and stepped out of the dressing room. “Well let's get this over with.” you said with a sigh.

******

Jason had been in the same spot for about an hour now. He could never understand why women took so much time shopping. He saw you disappear into one of the dressing rooms, and step out a few minutes later.

His jaw would have dropped open, if it wasn’t for his Red Hood Mask.

You stepped out wearing a beautiful white wedding dress. The dress looked as if it was designed for you in mind. It hugged you perfectly at all your curves. He could tell you were nervous as your cheeks were tinted slightly pink. He forgot how beautiful you really were. You turned around a few times and everyone in the room clapped.

For the first time since his death, Jason smiled.

In that moment, he remembered why he fell in love with you. He could feel his heart skip a beat as he imagined you walking towards him down the aisle in that beautiful wedding dress. It would be a small ceremony. Close friends, and some heroes of course. Your circle was a lot bigger than his. He would be waiting anxiously at the end of the aisle. As you appeared in front of the crowd, they would all turn to look at you in admiration. Jason’s heart filled with hope and happiness.

Maybe one day, this would be a reality.

The moment was cut short as everyone in the room agreed that the dress was perfect for the bride to be. So once again, Y/N disappeared into the back of the room as her co-worker helped the family with the paperwork in the front.

****** You had just stepped through the door and fell onto your couch in the living room. You were still a little bit giddy about seeing yourself in that beautiful dress. Not once in your time working at that shop had you ever thought about trying on one of the dresses. But today, that all changed.

Maybe it was time to get back out there.

Just as you finished your thought, you hear a knock at your door. You were instantly on edge as it was nearly 11PM. Who would be visiting you at this hour? You instinctively grabbed some pepper spray, and looked through the peephole. It was a man, his face turned away. He didn’t seem armed or dangerous, but you kept your pepper spray just in case.

You opened the door to peek out, but instantly your eyes went wide when you regonzed who it was standing in front of you.

“Hey Y/N.” Jason said. “You busy tonight?”

And that is where I will leave that. The rest is up to your imagination c: Jason deserves all the love. <3

[kousaka-ayumu]

TWs: this may contain SA and r@pe in the trivia.

Raymond Aegis

Nickmakes: Raymond(all), future meat(Yuzu), Aegis-shi(Idia), Aegis-san(Ortho), Raymond-kun(Sonomi), Belle chèvre(Rook)

Twisted from: Bubba Bubbaphant(Poppy Playtime), Eclair Cookie(Cookie Run Kingdom), Toya(Project Sekai).

Voice Claim: Itou Kent

Age: 16

DOB: 3/21

Height: 189cm

Species: Goat beastman

Homeland: Sunset Savanna

Family:

Diane(Mother: Deceased)

Kaito(Father)

Yoruko(Step-mother)

Dorm: Ignihyde

Class 1-C(No.4)

Club: Science

Hobby: Reading books in the library, collecting stones.

Likes: Peace and quiet, studying.

Dislikes: swearing, being interrupted, Bernice annoying the daylights out of him, Yuzu trying to seduce him.

Pet Peeve: People mistaken him for a sheep.

Favorite food: Chicken soup.

Least favorite food: Vegetables.

Favorite drink: Water.

"A third year Ignihyde student who is a very intelligent young man who is an inventor, please don't interrupt his studies, doesn't like it."

Appearance

Raymond is a young boy with long grayish blue hair tied to a braid and bright blue eyes.

Background

Raymond was born in a really rich family in Sunset Savanna, his father was the CEO of a company while his mother was an inventor for machinery, he was never close with his father due to his job but was very close with his mother to the point of wanting to be a inventor just like her but sadly his mother passed away due to a young age.

Later his father married a fashion designer named Yoruko a few months after Diana's death, and his father want him to quit being an inventor so that he could train to be a CEO but he didn't want that.

Personality

Raymond is a very calm and quiet boy who perfer spending his time studying in the library than making friends but is also a somebody who had a strong mind.

His face was usually blank so nobody could tell his expressions, but people like Kaida and Jamil can.

He was usually mistaken as rude often which he often corrects. Although he took a bit of pride of being androgynous.

Unique Magic: Lemongrass Spirit

It allows him to resurrect a dead person although

Trivia

He has a academically rivalry with Jamil and Azul.

He like tutoring.

Whenever he wasn't studying, he would often take a walk in the courtyard, or playing the violin.

Vil have wondered why is this man end up at Ignihyde instead of Pomefiore.

He was put to sleep by Samara once, overworking himself for the remedial exam.

He felt frustrated whenever all his hard work went in vein.

He sees Bernice as a little sister though he doesn't admit it.

He was SAd and r@pe by Yuzu once, he never told anyone.

He had a strained relationship with his father.

Her get offended whenever people got history wrong.

What do you guys think about him?

@zexal-club @yukii0nna @anxious-twisted-vampire

Oh and @anxious-twisted-vampire remember Minako died in the bad end route, well he can revive her but only her spirit.

[wardenparker]

Sassenach and the Spaniard - Epilogue

Pero Tovar x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Delirious with sickness and near to death, Pero Tovar finds himself on the doorstep of a village outsider who nurses him back to health just before the winter snows descend. With a black cat for company, a mask on her face, and a biting wit that intrigues him, Pero comes to find out that his new companion is more than what she seems.  ✨  Inspired and influenced by Diana Gabaldon’s Outlander series. ✨ Reader is described as disabled and having hair long enough to cover part of her face.  

Rating: Mature, but as always this blog is 18+ Word Count: 7.5k Warnings: **Blanket warnings for this fic include cursing, food mentions, references to previous sexual assault (multiple characters).**  Apologies for the possibly dubious Spanish in this chapter, and a little suggestive dialogue up front, but no other warnings. Summary: The first people you and Pero meet in Spain come bearing remarkable and unexpected surprises. Notes: Immense thanks to all of you for following along with this little trip through time. It has been such immense fun to explore in two universes at once, and so gratifying to build a family that very literally stands the test of time. Every time we embark on a new story we take a chance by stepping into the unknown, and every time it’s wonderous to see how lovingly you all respond. 🧡💛✨

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13 ~ Ch 14

Nine months was honestly less time than you thought it would take to get everything ready to move, especially with Beth and Will’s wedding planning underway. But their wedding was now an entire month ago, and you have unpacked every box in the ‘new’ Tovar farmhouse which is still well over a hundred years old. All of the amenities and utilities are up to date and the contractors had done an amazing job redoing the kitchen prior to your arrival, and Pero’s adventure in building permits and historical society red tape have led to some interesting situations in restoring the thousand-year-old farmhouse that he was born in.

First thing every morning - all four of them that you have been here for - he goes out to the old farmhouse and works from after breakfast until sundown clearing out all the many years’ worth of muck and build up in the place. It had been a barn for centuries, apparently, and then a storage shed, and there are stacks of things inside that require going through before Pero can start in on replacing the roof with an approved, historically-correct thatched one like it had when his parents lived there.

You have been setting up the main house room by room, with the bedroom and the bathrooms coming first, and today you’re tackling the kitchen. The fact that everything is unpacked just means you have towering piles of things on the countertops to find homes for, but you turn on the radio to a local station and get to work. If all goes well, you’ll have things put away and be able to make it into town for groceries to make Pero an actual home cooked dinner for the first time in your new home.

Pero opens the door to the kitchen, sweating and already in search of a drink. Stripping off the thick leather gloves, he walks directly to the refrigerator that he loves and opens the door to grab the carafe of cold water you have taken to keeping in there for him. “It is nearly cleaned out.” He grunts, looking around for a glass. You scolded him when he drank directly from the bottle, so he doesn’t do that anymore.

“Glasses are in the cabinet right next to the fridge,” you tell him, busy on the other side of the kitchen figuring out how to make all of your cookware fit in the open-air shelving. “That was fast, amor. Was it not as bad as we thought?”

“No, it’s bad.” Pero finds a glass and pours it full. Gulping down the liquid in great gulps that seem to echo in the still empty kitchen. “I will have to dig out the flooring— if it’s still there.”

“But the clutter will be out soon, which will be good.” Years of Tetris come in handy when trying to organize cabinets, and you slide the last pot into place before setting your cauldron on the shelf beneath it. The big, cast-iron pot was a gift from Pero and you have every intention of bringing magic back to this home as soon as possible.

“Disgusting.” Pero murmurs, a scowl on his face as he pours a smaller glass. “Using it as a fucking storage building.”

“It will be restored again soon.” You don’t care about sweat or warmth – Valencia’s summers are definitely warm – you wipe your hands and move across the room to hug him. “Your parents would be proud.”

“I hope so.” The area where his mamá had been buried was long since grown over, the plain markers gone. But Pero had cleaned the area up and has plans on marking it with a stone to remember his parents by.

“I’m sure of it.” You would certainly be proud if it was your son returning home after a thousand years to return his homestead to what it once was - you cannot imagine his own mamá is anything less as she looks down on him. “Do you want to walk down to the church later to light a candle for your parents?” According to what you had read, the current stone church in the village was built on the same foundation of the ancient one after it was destroyed sometime in the late Middle Ages, which means it won’t be the same church he was baptized in, but it’s in the same place. “It would be nice to make friends with the priest and see if he will let us look through the old records for your family.”

“Sí.” He knows they have caused a stir, returning and buying the land. But he doesn’t know if any from Arwena and Briac’s brood survived past bearing children or what became of them. It would be good to learn.

“In the meantime…” You give him a concerned look. “Is there anything I can do to help you? I don’t have to do the kitchen today. I can help you in the farmhouse if you want.” Bowie has been at his side all morning, but he isn’t much help with cleaning.

“You do not want to shovel shit and mud out from the house.” Pero shakes his head. “I appreciate it, amor.”

“I would do it if you asked me.” You would do anything he asked you. Even clean through shit and mud. “It’s not like I have a job to go to. I’m at your disposal.” Quitting that god awful office job had been so freeing that you had actually cried. Pure relief at being free to do whatever brought you joy has been a very odd feeling to adjust to.

He chuckles and shakes his head. “You do have a job, amor.” He corrects you. “Tinkering with your herbs and setting up your kitchen. That is your job today. Just like mine is going to be making you cum on that countertop when it is clear.”

“I think being a lady of leisure might suit me.” If a life of tinkering and witchcraft and sex is what it has in store? Yes, please.

Pero smirks, more of a leer as he winks at you. “Happy to provide your deepest wishes, amor.” He promises before he sets the glass in the sink. He still hasn’t gotten the hang of a dishwasher and is scared of breaking the delicate glasses in this time.

“You’ve been doing that since the very beginning, amor.” Leaning across the counter to kiss him again, you huff playfully when the knocker on the front door can be heard loud and clear. “Who could that be?” Whoever they are, they’ll be the first people you’ve met since getting here besides the previous owners of the small farm and your contractor.

“I don’t know.” Pero tenses, his hands automatically reaching for the knife that is always on his body unless he is naked with you. He has relaxed quite a bit since coming to this time, but he’s not sure if he will ever not be on guard when surprised. “Do you wish for me to open the door?”

“I’ll get it. Don’t worry.” Any gossip that’s gotten around will say that the newcomers are from America, so you figure you might as well give the people what they’re so curious about.

Pero moves with you, not trusting anyone who calls unannounced so he will be a hulking shadow behind you. A warning to not try anything with his soulmate.

Neither of you is expecting the heart attack that is waiting for you on your doorstep. At the end of the stone path lined by flowers that leads to your little house, right at your front door when you pull it open, stands a cheerful young couple with a covered platter in their hands and curious smiles on their faces. But more remarkable than anything else is the young woman...who is the spitting image of Arwena Tovar. It's all you can do not to exclaim when you open the door, realizing it isn't actually her only by her height - she is a full six inches taller than Arwena, if your memory of the petite girl serves correctly. "I—um—" Shake it off, you tell yourself, realizing you're staring. "Hola." When you can finally get a single word out, more mercifully following. "Qué tal?" Hi. How are you?

Instantly, Pero knows this woman is related to your family. “Mierda.” He whispers, making the stranger’s eyes flicker to him before she offers a friendly smile.

Alana Tovar nods politely. “Buenos días. Queríamos darle la bienvenida a nuestro humilde barrio.” Good day. We wanted to welcome you to our humble neighborhood. If she is shocked to see an American – she can tell by the accent – she doesn’t show it.

"Gracias, gracias..." You feel like you can barely keep your eyes in your head, but you step back and wave the young couple inside as politely and happily as you can. "Entrasteis, por favor. Vos gustaríais una bebida?" Come inside, please. Would you like a drink?

Alana turns to Jorge and nods when he gives a small nod himself. “Sí.” She murmurs before she offers the platter in her hand to you. “Para usted.” For you.

"We speak English." The gangly young man who steps in after the woman offers you and Pero a lopsided smile. Through his thick accent, he sounds almost like sunshine. Chipper, yes, but also warm.

“Then we will speak English.” Pero murmurs, introducing you first. “My wife, and I am Pero Tovar.” He waves them both towards the chairs you had insisted needed to be in the kitchen and starts clearing off the space in front of them.

“Tovar?” The young woman seems to move as gently as a tree bending in the wind. Clutching the platter still in her hands, she stops halfway to the seat she is being offered and sways on the spot. “I am Alana Tovar.” She introduces herself, obviously surprised by the shared name. “This is my partner, Jorge Reyes. We live just across the street.”

Pero nods, already knowing that she must be related due to her looking so much like her ancestor. “Are you from this area?” He asks, looking over at her curiously. It’s amazing the small differences now that she’s closer, but she could be Arwena’s sister.

“Sí.” Alana nods as Jorge takes the platter from her hands and sets it down on the counter. “My family has always lived here. Please…this is for you. A coca de llanda with orange. It is a family recipe…you would call it a kind of cake, I think?”

Just from the name of the cake, Pero’s eyes light up. “It sounds delicious.” Pero tells her immediately. “We must have some. With our drinks. Tea, or coffee?” Coffee has become a beloved drink for Pero despite your love of tea, so there is always both. “We do have ale, too.”

"It is best with coffee." Jorge chimes in, rubbing Alana's shoulders in an act of both pride and encouragement. The young man eyes your Nespresso machine happily, seeing that it is already set up on the counter while you reach into the cabinet above it to retrieve a few cups and plates. "We are curious," he begins, almost like he's unsure if he should ask. "We heard that the people buying the farm were family. But Alana did not know she had any family in the United States."

"Until recently, I did not know I had any family in Spain," you explain, wondering exactly how to tiptoe around the topic. "Of course, my husband was born here."

Pero is ready for the questions, feeling the eyes shift to him. “My family moved around quite a bit when I was younger.” He tells them as if his parents weren’t buried in this very earth less than three hundred yards away. “I have heard stories of family but never met anyone.”

"You are...both Tovars?" Alana has set about cutting slices of the delicious looking cake after you pulled out a knife and forks to go with the plates, but pauses to look between you and Pero.

"Sort of?" Setting up a little assembly line at the Nespresso machine, you start to make drinks for everyone. "We are both descended from the Tovar clan very distantly. Many generations back, we each branched off from the main family tree. I was not born a Tovar at all."

Pero chuckles, wondering what they would say if they knew he was the patriarch of the family and yet not related by blood at all. You are— but that is a different story. “We did not know of the connection when we met.” He explains. “We were just…almas gemelas.” Soulmates.

“So are we.” Jorge boasts, placing his hands on Alana’s shoulders again and puffing up his chest proudly. “I knew the second I saw her. Like…like a fairy tale, no?”

“It is.” Pero grins at you, well aware that your story could be a movie thing that you love making him watch. “The Sassenach and the Spaniard.” He teases, reaching out and squeezing your hip.

"Sassenach?" Alana asks, recognizing the word from her favourite American television show but not knowing why he has said it.

Pero rolls his eyes over to you, smirking. “It means outsider.” He explains. “She called herself that when we met. After insulting me and sparking my interest with her witch’s tongue.”

"He also calls me bruja," you volunteer, laughing about it slightly as you pass out demi cups of espresso. A part of you is curious about just how many witches are even in your family line, but you pass it off as a joke for now. There's no use in raising alarm bells with your neighbors and far-flung cousin right off the bat.

Alana nods knowingly. “If you are a Tovar, that is a part of your charm.” She chuckles. “We come from a long line of brujas, though most of the knowledge is lost.”

"Are you—?" Not expecting her to be so forthcoming, you must look as shocked as you are excited. "Do you...practice magic?"

Jorge’s smile turns a little defensive, a move Pero recognizes instantly. He is not magical, but he is protective of his soulmate. He understands it, even today there is a stigma.

“I have managed to—”

“Cielo.” Jorge whispers, shaking his head warily. You are strangers after all, even if you are distantly related.

"It's okay." You promise him, realizing that there are plenty of people in the world who would judge Alana for the gift she has inherited. From under your shirt, you pull a necklace that bears a pendant with the symbol of the triple goddess stamped in pewter and show it to the younger couple. "I have practiced for a very long time." That is an odd sort of understatement. "You have nothing to fear from us, I promise."

Alana reaches over and lays her hand on top of Jorge’s. “I have a feeling about them.” She promises her soulmate, giving him a look that said more than what her words could.

“We both practice.” Pero offers, although he does not wear the pendant you do. “What is a soulmate bond if not magic? Anyone who will judge for having more is simply stupid.”

"Actually, I have something you might be interested in." Glancing back at Pero, he gives you a nod before stepping aside, knowing what you intend to show this new girl. She reminds the two of you so much of Arwena that he understands your eagerness to share with her, even if he would probably be more guarded by himself. "Not all of our family's knowledge has been lost. And my Spanish is not good enough to be able to read everything in this book. Pero has read through things with me, but you might, well..." You shrug, producing a large box from the cabinet beneath the open shelves where you had been storing cookware not twenty minutes ago. "This belonged to my grandmother, and she left it to me."

The gasp Alana let’s is overshadowed by the sound of breaking porcelain. “Mierda!” She hisses, jumping up from where she had dropped her coffee cup and shattered it on the ground. “I am so sorry! perdóname!” Forgive me!

"Está bien. Calmate." It's okay. Take it easy. Though you hadn't necessarily expected that big of a reaction, you can absolutely understand it. Pero jumps forward to clean up the broken cup and you put your hand on Alana's arm in reassurance. "I do not believe in coincidences anymore," you tell her and Jorge honestly. "Everything that has happened in my life has happened for a reason. So perhaps one of the reasons I have this is to be able to share it with you."

“I have—that book.” Alana is emotional and nearly tearing up. “I have heard stories about the book my entire life.” She explains. “My mother told me that the book was not shared anymore because one side of the family traveled away. But that it would come home someday.”

"I looked into my ancestry." The grimoire is heavy and delicate, but you lift it from the box and set it on the clear counter with care. "My branch of the family left Spain hundreds of years ago and has traveled extensively. So there is more than just English and Spanish written here, but...it is all our family."

“You did not keep the Tovar name?” She asks, curious as to how your ancestors worked. “On my side, there is a tradition if it was the last daughter, the soulmate would take the name Tovar.” She tilts her head. “Although your family kept the tradition of naming a girl after the original soulmates.” She hums turning Pero. “As did your parents. There is a generation of boys and girls with your names in our family for as long as I can remember. I was upset as a little girl that my sister had your name.” She gives a quiet laugh and shrugs. “But Alana suits me.”

“A—a tradition?” Trying not to seem overly gobsmacked, you can’t help the wonder in your eyes as you reach for Pero’s hand and hold on tight. “I had no idea…” How could you be so entirely clueless as to these traditions and yet be at the very center of them? There are swaths of boys and girls in your family named after you and Pero and yet you had no clue. “My mother kept me entirely separate from our family. She…she believes magic is dangerous. But I think it is a miracle.”

“She must have believed at some point.” Alana’s heart hurts at the idea of being kept separate from her family and she reaches out to clasp your hand over the cover of the grimoire. “Otherwise you would not bear our ancestor’s name. The stories say she was a powerful bruja. Her and her soulmate.” She bites her lip. “I have the history of our family, the ones who stayed in Spain – if you would like to see it.”

“Oh yes.” Nodding immediately, you place your other hand on hers and squeeze gently. Reassuringly. “We would love to see that. A-and…to hear the stories? If you know them?”

Jorge chuckles, making Alana fluster. “My soulmate loves collecting stories about the family.” He promises, reaching over and rubbing her shoulder affectionately. “She will talk about it all day.”

“We would love to hear them,” you promise her, water rising slightly behind your eyes as you look up at Pero. To think that Arwena and Briac founded an entire family line – a proud one that still exists in multiple forms to this day – is both mind boggling and somehow unsurprising. As if their love had reached through time and twined your family together all on its own. “Any time you would like to come over and look through the book and tell stories. Please…we are family.”

“I was curious and happy when I leaned a Tovar had purchased the property.” Alana admits with a smile. “We had wished we had been able to afford it, but this better.”

“We were meant to be brought together; I think.” She truly looks so much like Arwena that you just want to reach out and hug her, but that intimacy must be built first. Something tells you it will not take long, but it is still best to give it time. “I will make another coffee and we can sit together? Share stories? The grimoire has many of them. And perhaps if we sit long enough our cat will come out of hiding to say hello.”

“Cat?” Alana perks up and smiles. “Have you found another one? There are so many running around the properties.”

“We found a few living in the old farmhouse.” It had not thrilled Pero at the time, but a stray black cat is a thing close to your heart so he had just huffed and shooed them out - only to put water and food out for them by your back door later on. “We also brought our cat from the US. Bowie is around here somewhere.” Probably mousing, as he has already discovered plenty of prey to chase. Or else exploring his new home.

“We have always found black cats around the property. My abuela said that the familiar of your namesake became her daughter’s and they are all descendant from her. Binx.” Alana chuckles. “My own cat is named Binx.”

“They’re all from Binx?” The few seconds you take to steady yourself while reaching for a new cup and saucer from the cupboard isn’t nearly enough, but it allows you to share a loaded glance with Pero. “The original soulmates…” you ask when you turn back around. “Do the stories say what powers they had?”

“She had the power of fire, healing.” Alana smiles dreamily. “She saved Pero’s life. He was a warrior and fiercely protective over his bruja when he learned who she was to him.” It’s a story that is often told at family gatherings like weddings, so she is very familiar with her favorite love story. “He was different. He had no magic before her, but he learned. He could move things through the air. And—” She gives a small laugh. “You will say it is crazy, but the legend says they could travel through time.”

“Oh my god…” This time it’s you who drops the dainty cup from your hand, but it clatters onto the counter with no harm done as you reach for Pero beside you.

“Did you— have you heard a version of this?” She asks excitedly, leaning forward with hope shining in her eyes. “Isn’t it romantic? The story my abuela told me was that Pero learned magic so he could follow her. She was sick – unable to be healed and went to a time where she could be saved and he followed when he learned how.” She sighs softly and reaches for Jorge’s hand. “The story is told every time someone gets married in our family.”

“Every time?” You look up at Pero in wonder, wrapping your arms around him before looking back at Alana. “Do the stories say what time she traveled to? By any chance?”

Pero crushes you to him, overwhelmed by the realization that the two of you have been immortalized into this family’s legends. Stories are told to little ones, much like he had been told as a child. His breath catches and he blinks several times, his eyes wet. The two of you may have never had children together, but you are the matriarch of generations.

“That part gets complex.” Alana huffs. “No one can decide. Some say they lived in the 20’s but I believe they must have still be yet to come. How else would she be able to be saved if not for modern or future medicine?”

“I suppose it depends on what she was sick with.” The way you and Pero are holding on to each other is like you’re clinging to a lifesaver in the middle of the ocean. “But that is…it’s not so unbelievable, is it? If magic is real, then surely anything is possible?”

Alana contemplates that and nods. “You are right. I wish I could know what it was like, what they were like. It must have been amazing.”

“I think it must have been very scary.” Terrifying, in fact, but you don’t know how these two sweet young people would react to knowing that it’s you they have been hearing about for so long. “Imagine being stuck out of your own time like that.”

“So you think that it is true? That she was a time traveler?” Alana smiles happily, having been met with disbelief if she talked about it with people outside the family. “Then if he followed her, he would be outside of his own time.”

“Yes…he would.” You look up at Pero again and a smile tugs at the corners of your lips. “And think how happy he would be to come home again.”

It takes her a moment. A long pause as Alana thinks about your words before there is a small, but poignant inhale from the younger woman. Her eyes are bright and shiny, and she nods knowingly. “Yes, I think that it is beautiful.”

“It would be nice if it could happen.” Jorge concedes, shifting in his seat beside his soulmate. He sees the happiness in her eyes but knows how attached to the love story of her ancestors she is. “But I would be overwhelmed, I think, if I were him. A whole modern world? Qué terrible.” How terrible.

“It is not that bad.” Pero huffs under his breath. “This time has indoor plumbing and ice cream.”

It takes a second, but Jorge’s eyes slowly move up to Pero’s in shock. “You mean…?” He croaks, fingers digging into Alana’s shoulders. “Dios mio, it’s true?”

The cat seems to be out of the bag, so Pero sees no harm in admitting it. He turns towards you, his frown would seem harsh if it weren’t for the softness in his eyes. “I would have torn time apart to be with my bruja again.”

“Te amo.” The words are soft in spite of your fierce pride in him, and you angle your chin up to kiss him before turning back to Alana and Jorge. “If you require proof, I understand.” Honestly, it would be insane for them not to. “The box on the end of the counter? That is my handwriting on the outside. Compare it to the first dozen-ish pages of the grimoire.”

“It is—” Alana nearly leaps off her seat at the counter to compare the writing. Not because she doesn’t believe you, but because she wants to.

Jorge is half a breath behind her, dragging over the box bearing your list of items inside written neatly on one of the flaps. It was how you kept organized during packing. “It is identical…”

Pero hums, knowing that they will want to see proof that he is who he says he is, so he turns and walks out of the kitchen, making his way to the safe that contains the clothes that you and he arrived in this time in.

“It’s true that he saved my life.” You tell the younger couple as Pero makes his way to the basement to retrieve his proof. “When I arrived at the hospital in this time, the doctors said another day or two might have been too long.”

“Is it true that he could not come with you? That he had to learn magic to follow you here?” Completely enthralled, Alana has a million questions for you. “I— this is rude, no? Asking you this? You do not have to answer if you wish.”

"It's okay." It's actually a relief, in some odd way. To meet family that you can share this part of your life with. To be connected to Arwena and Briac again, even a thousand years apart. "You can ask. If I'm able to answer, I will." The slices of cake and cups of coffee sitting on the counter have been neglected but you pick up your fork, deciding that food and drink makes everything a little more palatable. Socially, at least. "Yes, it's true that he had to learn magic to follow me. He spent a year learning before he traveled back to the Stones to follow me through history."

“Oh my god, it’s true.” Alana squeals, clearly overjoyed to learn that the stories that she had heard growing up were true. “I— how long has he been here? How long were you there?”

"I was there for eight years." Your first bite of Alana's torta is shatteringly good, and you muffle a groan while you chew. If this is a family recipe, you want to go back to whoever made it first and thank them personally. "He's been here for...almost a year now. Alana, this torta is amazing."

She beams, smiling happily under your praise and picking up the newly made coffee to take the first sip. “I will have to give you the recipe, unless you created it too?”

"No, your baking is far better than mine." Although you will definitely do your best to replicate this one. It's sensational. "Sugar still hadn't come to Europe then. Pero's discovery of sugar and chocolate has been a lot of fun for him."

“It is the best.” He groans as he comes into the kitchen again, the clothes and armor on his body rather than just showing them. “But I am getting fat.” There had been a snugness to his armor that wasn’t there before.

"I have a feeling that fixing up the old farmhouse will be plenty of exercise." Still, you can't help but smile at the sight of him in his armour. The lopsided expression on your face is both fond and soft. "There's my mercenary."

Pero turns towards the couple and sees their eyes widen. “This is what I am used to wearing. Spending my days on a horse and fighting for coins.”

"Increíble..." Jorge stands from his seat, jaw nearly on the ground as he gravitates closer to Pero with an eye toward inspecting his armor. "Like you just stepped out of a movie..."

“Movie. Yes, I know what that is.” Pero nods, nodding towards the man to let him touch the armor. “This is real, that – the strategy is shit in those movies. No one risks their ass like they show in them.”

"That's how he looked when he dropped off his horse onto my doorstep, near dead with tuberculosis." You tell Alana, shaking your head with the kind of fondness that only time and distance can give a memory. "We saved each other. First him, and then me."

“How did he save you?” Jorge questions, looking up from the armor before he rolls his eyes at himself. “Of course. He sent you back. How did he do that without magic? How did you travel through time?” That has been his burning question whenever Alana would talk about it.

"This is going to sound ludicrous." Telling the story from the outside really does feel a bit crazy, but you shrug slightly when Alana and Jorge both look at you expectantly. "But have you ever seen the show Outlander? Or read the books?"

“Don’t—” Alana gasps, covering her mouth and shaking her head in disbelief. “Do not tell me that is real!” She all but squeaks out her comment and Jorge laughs.

“She loves Outlander.” He confides. “Thinks the Jamey guy is…hot.”

"Last October I went to Inverness with my best friend to see the Stones at Craigh na Dun." You can't help but laugh, realizing in retrospect how silly the whole thing sounds. "I was gone for eight years, but to my friend it was only a few minutes."

“A few minutes…” Jorge shakes his head. Alana looks just as dumbfounded. “This is amazing.”

"And I will never regret it, because it led me to Pero." His hand reaches for yours at the same time you put your hand out to him and you link your fingers together tightly. "But I cannot safely say that anyone should ever try to travel through the Stones. You have no idea when you will arrive in time and when you get to wherever it is you are sent, you could be in immediate and very grave danger. It is...more than I bargained for. I'm just lucky that it turned out well for me."

“If it is not too rude…” Alana twists her hands together. “Is that why— your scar. Did you have it before you went back?” She asks, wondering if it’s a sensitive topic for you. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

"I got it while I was there." You nod slightly, fingers tangled in Pero's tightening slightly. "Before I met Pero. There was...a man that thought he could take advantage of me. He was very wrong."

“Bastard.” One thousand years dead and it still would not be enough for Pero. If he could be certain where the man’s grave was, he would piss on it. “My bruja managed to defend herself, and give me a scar that made me even more fearsome on the battlefield.” He sounds proud because he is proud of you.

"An example of why I would never recommend that anyone travel through the Stones." Beyond the scar and the loss of sight aside, the assault that you had endured was reason enough to caution anyone and everyone against putting themselves in that position. "Best to stay safe, well-fed, and cared for on this side of the timeline."

“I am so sorry.” Alana murmurs, looking horrified by the idea that someone would hurt you. “Hopefully he got his just rewards.”

“He got what he deserved.” You nod solemnly, looking back to Pero. “My husband made sure of that.”

There is a moment where Alana and Jorge just stare at Pero, in awe of what he must have done to put the terrifying look of grim satisfaction on his face. Alana ducks her head. “I am sorry for bringing up painful memories. My – curiosidad – it gets the best of me.”

“Things are better now.” You put one hand softly on Alana’s shoulder and offer her a smile. “To be able to return here, and to see what our family has become? That is worth everything.”

Jorge frowns. “Wait…if you were only there for eight years…did you leave your children behind?” He asks, confused about how they can be Tovars and still have created this legacy in such a short time.

“Your ancestors are a young couple named Arwena and Briac.” If Alana knows so much family history, she may already know this, but you tell her anyway. “They were soulmates, and Wena’s father forbade them from being together. But…we helped them. Briac learned to wield a sword and farm the land from Pero, and I taught Wena to read and write and wield magic. They…became our children, without ever any intention of the thing. When the night came that they needed to run away together, we packed up and left the village with them. From then on, we were a family.” Talking about them brings a wave of nostalgia you hadn’t been expecting and you wipe a tear from your eye. “You look exactly like her,” you tell Alana. “I knew you had to be family the second I saw you.”

“I do?” Alana very nearly tears up at the idea and reaches up to touch her own face. “Is that why you looked shocked when you opened the door? I look like the original Arwena Tovar?”

“You’re taller, but that’s the only real difference.” It’s sweet, how dearly Alana seems to take that fact to heart, and you nod. “It’s probably why I felt we could tell you all of this so easily. You just…you look so much like her I couldn’t imagine that that could have happened by accident.”

“I promise this will not be a tale that I spread.” Alana assures you, not wanting you to be wary of her spreading your story and perhaps having people look at you as if you are crazy.

“Thank you.” You didn’t think that she would, but it’s nice to hear the confirmation aloud. “I am, actually, your distant cousin,” you explain. “I’m also descended from Arwena and Briac. Just…a different branch of the family.”

“The side that apparently went to America.” Alana shakes her head, amazed at how the family has branched. “It’s amazing. A paradox. You are the matriarch and yet you are the descendant.”

“I don’t quite understand it myself.” It’s all too grand and smacks of too much consequence, and every time you think about it too much you reach a point where you start to get wrapped up in it like it’s the plot of a fantasy novel instead of your actual life. “But…all of it led me to Pero. And that’s more than I ever could have asked for.”

“I cannot believe that your soulmate is from a different time than you.” Jorge exclaims, unable to deny that is what you are because of the matching scars over your eyes.

“We usually say that we met while I was on that vacation in Scotland.” Pero chuckles into his sip of espresso when you say it and you shrug slightly. “It’s not like we can tell most people what really happened.”

“She tells people I am…” Pero looks to you when he cannot remember the word. “Antisocial.” He huffs, smug that he remembered it.

Alana and Jorge choke on this revelation for a minute before busting out in a fit of smothered laughter that makes even you giggle. “It’s true, amor. You are most of the time. But you love your family.”

“I do not trust anyone but family.” He corrects, frowning at your judgement of his character.

“Social expectations have changed in a thousand years, that’s all.” Alana points out. “And being able to trust your family is not always automatic. We are lucky to be able to trust each other so quickly.”

“I do not understand why.” Pero shakes his head. “Family should be the ones that you trust most. They are…family.”

You know he’s right, in many ways, but explaining to him that your mother would never accept the truth about who he is and when he is from – that she would probably try to have both of you committed if you told her the truth – had been a very long conversation. Of course he trusted you to know best, but he didn’t like the idea that you could not fully trust your parents to support you.

Pero moves over towards you and his hands slip around your waist, his lips kissing the juncture of your neck and shoulder softly. “I will change back.”

“Be comfortable, amor.” You nod slightly, knowing he will feel the movement next to his head. “I know that tunic cannot be more comfortable than your t-shirts. My sewing was never that good.”

He chuckles quietly and can’t deny that modern clothes are more comfortable. Less itchy than the ones from his time. “I will be back.”

“So what about you two?” Turning back to Alana and Jorge, you feel the slight loss of no longer having Pero at your side, knowing he will be back quickly. Taking off armor never takes as long as putting it on. “What do you do? How did you meet?”

Jorge smirks, his own pride for his soulmate evident on his face. “University.” He explains. “We were taking a class together.”

“I still do not know how we managed to pass,” Alana laughs, sending him a gentle, fond smile. “We did not exactly study.”

“It is not an exciting story, but it was almost as if we knew right away.” Jorge boasts. “The connection, I mean. It – it is beautiful.”

“Every love story is exciting in its own way.” And really, yours is not for everyone. “It is a new beginning. The start of a life together. That is its own kind of adventure.”

“How is he handling it?” Jorge asks, imagining that despite the advantages of this time, the other man must be having moments where he struggles to understand the world he lives in now.

“There are always new challenges,” you admit, wishing as always that you could simply smooth the path that Pero walks in this time. But you know you cannot do everything for him, and he doesn’t want you to. That doesn’t stop you from wishing you could take away the things that make him unhappy. “It will do him good to have friends here. Family. People he can be his true self with. And…more than anything, I think coming home again will be good for him. The barn out there? Or, what is now a barn? That is the house he was born in.”

"That was the house?" Alana's eyes go comically wide, and she whips her head to the side to look out the window that overlooks the stone structure. "That is – it is a thousand years old and is the house that your soulmate was born in? The one where Arwena and Briac lived and raised their children in?"

“Yes.” You can’t help but chuckle a little at how excited all of this makes her, and you’ll admit that a good portion of it is some kind of relief. It had been a worry of yours that making friends here might be difficult – but clearly the opposite was destined to be true.

"That is – wow – amazing." She lets out a chirp of happiness and looks back out the window again. "He has been working out there. Is he – will he turn it back into what he knew it as?"

“He even applied for the permits we need to restore the thatched roof and stone floor.” It is a particular point of pride for you, that Pero is working so hard to restore his childhood home. He’s working so hard and you could not be happier for him.

"Wow." Now it is Jorge's turn to be impressed and he nods. "I will ask if he needs help." He decides, looking eager at the prospect of learning techniques from a thousand years ago. "It would be beautiful to see a perfect example of how a home from that time would be set up."

“Jorge studied architecture.” Alana tells you, her own pride evident in her voice. “You should see the castles he designs and builds for Binx. They are spectacular.”

“You build castles?” Pero steps back into the kitchen, his brow arched high, and he is very interested in the other man’s skills. The fireplace in the old home has been removed and he wants to rebuild it. “They are still being used in this time?”

“For our cat.” Jorge laughs, slightly embarrassed at the mix-up. “Towers for her to climb and scratch shaped like castles. But I build other things. And design them.”

“Alana was saying that Jorge studied architecture,” you explain.

“And I am a builder.” The younger man nods. “Whatever help you need in restoring your home, it would be an honor to help you.”

Pero rubs his jaw, nodding to himself slightly. “I need to rebuild the hearth.” He tells the younger man. “Some bastard ripped it out and boarded over it. Do you want to look?” He offers, knowing that someone who builds for a living might be a good thing since the bastards to tell you what you can and cannot do with your own property have pissed him off several times.

“Absolutely.” Jorge nods and drops a kiss on the top of Alana’s head before hopping off of his stool at the kitchen counter.

“I’m going to show Alana the grimoire,” you tell them, glad to see Pero making a friend so easily. You’re certainly not going to get in the way of it, especially not when Jorge is practically family. “Come in when you get hungry and maybe we can share supper together tonight?”

Pero nods and moves over to kiss you again. “Do you wish for me to start the fire outside?” He asks, knowing that he had planned on roasting some meat you had bought from the grocery store. While it was not the same as wild game, it was still delicious. “Or do you wish to do something else?”

“No, we can cook outside.” One kiss is never enough, and you steal another easily. “We have plenty enough for four, and we can show Alana and Jorge how we used to do things. It will be perfect.” To not have to hide, or to lie, or to pretend at all is a great gift that you did not think you would ever be given in this part of your life. But as always, as if some wonderful force of the universe is looking out for you – you have gotten the blessing that you needed in spite of undertaking something scary. Whatever else comes during your life in Spain, you have Pero at your side and family to spend time with. There is nothing more you could want.

______

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[michelle-is-writing]

Unexpected ch.1, Spencer Reid

Word count: 2k~

Warning: angst - and a lot of it!

To most people, their childhoods are left behind in the past with very few memories recoverable. However, for me, my childhood memories stuck with me throughout all of my years of growing older. There were a few memories of playing outside and meeting new friends, but the abundant ones revolved around me spending time with a brunet boy hidden behind tortoiseshell glasses whom I adored, and at times, I'd like to think he adored me as well.

The reason why so many of my memories were filled with images of Spencer was because we were an inseparable pair as young kids. Despite him not going to the same school as me (since he was constantly moving to higher grades), we were still close thanks to us being neighbors. Both Spencer and I were only six, and we were playing chess on a regular basis instead of toy cars or dolls. Even so, the toy cars that Spencer's dad did buy him were never put to their intended use, and instead, examples for work problems with acceleration in advanced physics.

When the time came that Spencer turned eighteen, everything turned around. At the time, I discovered I was in love with him. I had grown to admire everything he did for not only himself, but his mom as well. He was putting himself through college with a lot of hard work behind him, while at the same time, caring for his schizophrenic mother who was inconsolable at times. To help out, I would watch her during the days and work on my school work at the same time. The conversations between Diana and I were always sweet with her telling me that she enjoyed the thought of Spencer and me getting together one day, but her words only made the oncoming heartbreak harsher.

One day, I was smiling with Spencer as he explained to me the laws he had learned in Chemistry, and on the next day, I was opening the door to a previously occupied apartment with nothing in sight. The furniture was gone along with everything on the walls. Diana was no longer at her bed either, and all that was left was dust bunnies in the corner. It appeared as if Spencer and Diana had left without saying goodbye, when in reality, that's what I was coming over there to tell them.

After months and months of hard work, my essays and letters got me into a college three states away that specialized with criminal justice and the many branches involved in it. For six straight years, I studied long and hard and managed to pull off a bachelor's in criminal justice and a bachelor's in psychology and sociology. My hard work paid off for once, and despite doing it with friends and family there to support me, I still thought about the missing person in my life. After a while, what hurt most was the realization that the boy whom I had grown up with for nearly the entire duration of my life was now a man who wouldn't be there for the rest of it.

With my specialties in profiling, I applied to the United States Department of Justice in an attempt to earn a position in helping solve missing cases with adolescents. However, our wishes aren't always delivered to us as I was instead given a place in the Behavioral Analysis Unit. I was happy and excited to receive this job, but when I entered the large and heavily secured building, I felt the air in my lungs escape me. Not because of pure exhilaration, but because of true and utter shock.

I had already met with the leader of the team I would be joining and got along with him well. Even over the phone, Hotch was a nice man, and I could tell he prioritized his team. Because of that, I felt confident that maybe I was in a place I belonged in for once. Although, my thoughts weren't all the same once my eyes landed on those of the man who I hadn't gotten to see grow older like me.

His face had smoothed out as well as his long hair turning wavy. His stature was now quite a bit taller, but he was still skinny like he was when he was younger. Plus, his fashion had changed just a little with the new addition of a dark blue tie and his brown eyes no longer windowed behind his glasses. Yet, at the same time, those brown eyes were the only things to not have changed through the years - they were still the brown eyes of the young man I loved years ago, and once my gaze caught his shocked one, I felt my heart plummet back into the love spell it was webbed in before.

As Hotch introduced me to the team, Spencer didn't say anything until everyone else had gotten a turn before hugging me to him, making my chest sting as I hugged him back. This was the person I once loved that left me in the dust during a time I needed him desperately, and now, he was the person I felt myself falling in love with once more with a certain pang following each beat of my heart. Although this pang was caused by the love I had for him, it was a painful pang that felt as if every breath I took would break a rib at any moment.

Weeks went by and I learned so much about Spencer. He had gotten even more degrees under his belt during the time we were apart, and he got to do so many odd things in his time at the BAU. He got to make-out with a celebrity in her pool; he contracted anthrax poisoning on a case; but most of all, he met and fell in love with a doctor by the name of Maeve Donovan.

The way he described her showed that he loved her like no other. He talked about how beautiful and intelligent she was while mentioning how he wished he could've known her longer. It was obvious that when she died, a part of him did too, and unfortunately, Spencer held no hesitation in telling me what that specific part was.

"I don't think there's anyone in the world that could compare to Maeve," He told me, staring out the jet window while I listened on, pretending that his swears of only loving like that once in his lifetime didn't stab me like a knife. "No one could ever be like her."

Barely a few weeks passed after that conversation that Spencer and I were acting as if we had never separated in our friendship. The only difference was the fact that it seemed like Spencer was holding himself back. He had no hesitation in telling me the things he said about Maeve, but anything that had to do with his feelings about himself was seemingly off-limits. Garcia even told me that I was the only person Spencer had opened up to about Maeve. He didn't feel comfortable saying anything else any other time.

There was even a time where Spencer and I had started a game of chess on our way back from a case. Both of us sitting at the mini table, we both exchanged moves back and forth while competitive smiles rested on our faces. "Do you remember doing this when we were younger?" I asked him, moving a knight to a different position.

"Of course," Spencer responded, countering my move with a knight of his own. "How could I ever forget?"

"You have an eidetic memory, that's right," I pointed out, giving a little chuckle afterward.

Meanwhile, Spencer happily shook his head. "No, it-it's not just that," He stuttered out, causing me to turn an eyebrow at him.

"Then what is it?" I questioned him, confused by his sudden nervousness.

However, what confused me even more was the drop of his smile that followed directly afterward. "...I don't know."

Despite all of this, we were still close to each other - just with a few missing aspects here and there in our friendship. Although this was the case, I still felt my overall attraction to Spencer remain the same. In spite of knowing that he would probably never love me back, I still swooned when he was near me, or when he would simply smile.

Then, it all came to a turning point one night.

We were lounging around his apartment after a late case before ultimately ending up in his bed, our clothes strewn across the room while our hands roamed each other's bodies like maps. Words were muttered and moaned through our lips with each moment of passion passing, and through it all, there was still a lack of depth that showed Spencer and his true self.

Out of breath, we both lie on the bed together with our chests heaving up and down. Spencer rests his arm lazily across my waist while my back presses up against his chest. Thinking about everything, my brain reminds me this isn't right - this is only going to make my feelings for Spencer grow. After this, I'm going to want more, and with the implication that Spencer might feel something for me after all, I know I'm going to need more.

"I miss Maeve sometimes," Spencer speaks up, causing my eyes to widen. "Really, I miss her all the time," He adds, my chest stopping in its motions as I wait for the next damning words to fall from his lips. "I don't know... how I get through without someone like her confuses me sometimes."

Hearing Spencer say these things causes my stomach to churn. We just finished doing something so intimate that only two close people do when they love each other, but I don't think Spencer feels that way. I guess I wrongly assumed Spencer's feelings for me, and I guess... I'm still not enough.

"I'll be right back," I murmur, not letting Spencer continue on his evening confessions. Leaving Spencer's hold, I stand from the bed and head into the bathroom where I quietly shut the door behind me and slide down against it. Pulling my knees to me as close as I can, I hang my head in a mix of shame and sadness. What have I done wrong in trying to let Spencer know I love him? What have I done so incorrectly that it's brought me to the point where I'm silently sobbing on his bathroom floor with so many horrible emotions flowing through me?

Although, did Spencer really want to do this because he has feelings for me? Or is he still so stuck on Maeve nearly half a decade later that he feels as if he's still with her and this means nothing? How could I ever be comfortable being in a relationship with him when it feels like he's forcing himself to be comfortable with me? I can't do that to him.

After a few more minutes of my sobbing, I wipe away my tears and stand from the cold tile floor before heading back into Spencer's bedroom. Seeing him now asleep on his bed with his arms held out waiting for me, I close my eyes before turning away. I know that no matter how hard I try, he won't view me as his girlfriend or partner. He'll see me as a replacement for Maeve.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, throwing my hands to my mouth to cover my sob. Thankfully, Spencer doesn't wake up as I'm putting my clothes on, and by the time I'm done gathering my things, he's lying on his stomach with his head pushed into his pillow. Walking toward the man I've loved all of my life, I feel my heart slowly break with each step I take, and by the time I reach his side, I feel torn as I whisper my last words to him. "I'm sorry I'll never be Maeve..."

Read the the second part here!

[stranger-fanfiction-n-things]

CHAPTER 3: HOLLY, JOLLY

This is an Original Character fanfiction. All Stranger Things characters and content are owned by Netflix and The Duffer Brothers.

a/n: We do not take what Jonathan did lightly and neither does Diana.

Warnings: Bullying.

Word Count: 2122

Masterlist

PART I || PART II || PART III || PART IV

HAWKINS HIGH 

The day goes by in a blur. I don’t remember what I learned in my classes today because I can only think about Barb. If something happened to her—My body is pushed to the side and I squeak staggering on my feet. 

“Sorry!” Jonathan says, holding my arms to steady me. 

Jonathan. I forgot mom wanted me to talk to him today. 

“It’s okay, I’m glad I found you.” I respond with a small smile. 

“Oh…” he says, fixing his buttoned shirt. 

I give Jonathan a quick once over, feeling a pit in my stomach. Jonathan looked like he was slowly spiralling. His hair was sticking out in all directions from running his hands through it too much. I know the Byers don’t have a lot of money, but they were always put together…Jonathan’s clothes looked like he threw them all haphazardly. The bags under his eyes are what stuck out to me the most. I’ve known Jonathan since we were little kids. Despite our little brothers being best friends, Jonathan and I don’t hang out one on one like Nancy and I do. The only time I have was freshman year, last year. I was his model for his photography project. We took a lot of photos at the park some regular, others with me in my pointe shoes, doing various poses and positions. The photos came out beautifully and Jonathan gave me a couple to keep for myself. Mom framed it and put it on the fireplace.

“I just wanted to know how you’re doing. I’m sorry for not checking in sooner.” I shake my head. “I didn’t know how.” 

“It’s been…rough.” He says, avoiding eye contact. “My mom isn’t doing so well.” 

“I can only imagine what you’re going through. I hope you know we’re here for you.” 

“Thanks, Diana. It means a lot.” 

I bow my head, pursing my lips. “My mom made cookies for you guys yesterday and she stopped by, but your mom wasn’t home. She left them on the porch.” 

“Oh yeah. My mom got them,” he said with a small laugh. It sounded forced. “I only had a few. They were really good. Tell your mom I said thanks…from both of us.”  I can tell it pained him to say both because they are a family of three. 

“I will.” 

Jonathan shifts from side to side. “Um, do you need a ride? I can drive you home.” 

What is it with boys offering me rides? 

“You live on the opposite side of town.” I point out. 

“I know, but I don’t mind. Really.”

I sense Jonathan doesn’t want to be alone and nod my head. “Thank you. That’s very nice of you.” 

As we approach Jonathan’s car, I am surprised to find Steve, Carol, Tommy H and another girl, who I don’t recognize standing around. I am immediately filled with dread, having spent the entire day avoiding them. Steve watches Jonathan with a scowl on his face and pushes himself off the car, walking toward us. 

“Hey, man.” He greets Jonathan. It’s as if I don’t exist. 

Jonathan swallows, eyes scanning the group. “What’s going on?” 

“Nicole here was telling us about your work.” 

“We’ve heard great things.” Carol says sarcastically. Tommy H and Nicole smile, but it looks more like a sneer. 

“Yeah, sounds cool.” Tommy H adds.

I squint not understanding what’s going on. 

“And we’d just love to take a look. You know, as…connoisseurs of art.” 

Jonathan pushes pass Steve to his car. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Oh, no?” Steve asks. 

Tommy H quickly snatches Jonathan’s bag from his shoulder, throwing it to Steve who catches it with ease. Jonathan goes to Tommy H who bumps him in the chest, antagonizing him. 

“Hey!” I shout, marching to separate them. 

Tommy H stares down at me, like I’m an insect. “You hanging out with freaks and perverts now, Sinclair?” He taunts. 

I ignore him, pushing Jonathan away. Tommy H smirks at me as if he’s in on some inside joke I’m not sure about. 

“Please, give me my bag.” Jonathan stammers. Steve begins to unzip his backpack. “No just…” 

“Man, he is totally trembling.” Steve muses, “He must really have something to hide.” Steve pulls out a stack of paper. “Here we go.” 

“Let me see.” Tommy H says and Steve hands him half the stack. He’s glaring at Jonathan and I’m wondering what has him so mad. 

Tommy H flips through the paper, scowling as he goes. He looks up at Jonathan in disgust. “Dude. Yeah, this isn’t creepy at all.” 

Jonathan shifts from side to side. “I was looking for my brother.” 

It’s then I realize these are photos. Carol takes some out of Tommy H’s hand to look for herself. She pops her gum obnoxiously wearing the same disgusted look on her face. I swallow, glancing at Jonathan. He looks so uncomfortable; I fear the worse about the photos. 

“No. This is called stalking.” Steve snaps. 

“Give those back.” I demand. I don’t know what those photos are, but I don’t think it’s appropriate for everyone to be seeing, Especially if they are supposedly that bad. 

“You defending this creep?” Steve spat. 

“I’m not defending him. Just—” 

“There’s some of you too, you know.” Steve says, cutting me off. He hands me a stack of photos. 

I take the photos flipping through them. He wasn’t lying. There were photos of me by the pool while I was dancing by myself. Some with me and Barb sitting on the lawn chairs. Some of me in the Scorpion pose in front of the group. I see the grimace on Tommy H and Carol’s faces and am instantly transported to that moment last night. The feeling of embarrassment creeps up my spine. My stomach is in knots. From the corner of my eye, Jonathan is looking at me. I can’t believe he’d do this. Part of me feels betrayed and foolish. I was consoling him about his brother and he was…I rip the photos in my hands, shoving them in my bag. 

“This is so inappropriate for everyone to be looking at, don’t you think?” 

“What’s going on?” 

I turn around and see Nancy approaching us. I haven’t seen her since lunch. This day just keeps getting more and more worse. 

“Here’s the starring lady.” Tommy H announces with a smirk. 

Nancy arches her brow. “What?” 

“This creep was spying on us last night.” Carol responds, gesturing to Jonathan. She pulls a photo and hands it to Nancy. I glare at the red-head, shaking my head. “He was probably going to save this one for later.” 

Nancy takes the picture and I can tell by the look on her face and the flush in her cheeks, the photo is less than pleasant. She looks at Jonathan who avoids her stare. Steve rolls the photos in his hands. Usually, Steve is happy and aloof at school, but right now he looks menacing as he approaches Jonathan. 

“See, you can tell that he knows it was wrong, but…” he fixes Jonathan’s shirt, wiping off imaginary dust off his shoulders. “Man, that’s the thing about perverts. It’s hardwired into them. They can’t help themselves.” Steve rips the photos in his hands, throwing them on the ground. I watch Steve walk back to Jonathan’s bag by the car. “So, we’ll just have to take away his toy.” He opens the bag pulling out Jonathan’s camera. 

“Steve.” Nancy mutters.  

Jonathan charges for Steve but is quickly pushed back by Tommy H. 

“No, please, not the camera!” 

“Tommy. Tommy.” Steve cautions. “It’s okay.” He coos, walking to Jonathan. He hands him the camera. “Here you go man.”

Jonathan goes to take it from his hand, but Steve is faster and drops the camera on the ground. My jaw drops as the lens cover pops out and bits of the camera shatters. Tommy H laughs and Steve stares at the ground. I notice he avoids looking at Jonathan. There’s a flicker of sorrow behind his eyes but it’s gone as soon as it appears. 

“Come on, let’s go. The game’s about to start.” 

Nicole follows behind Steve and Carol rips up the remaining photos dropping them on the ground in front of Jonathan. Tommy H saunters toward him. 

“Boo.” He whispers. 

Tommy H then turns to me and grins triumphantly and makes sure to brush me when he walks away. When everyone is gone, Jonathan immediately drops to the ground reaching for his camera. I drop to my knees picking up the remnants of the photos. I see bits and pieces of Nancy in what I assume is Steve’s room and clench my jaw, snatching them from the ground before they flew away. Nancy drops to the ground beside me picking up a few scraps. I assume she’s helping until Steve calls her name. She looks at me and Jonathan before apologizing. I watch her hurry to Steve and walk with him towards the school. 

I continue to pick up the photos trying my best to avoid looking at them too much just wanting to get rid of them. My eyes betray me at the sight of another photo of me dancing by the pool by myself. If the photo was taken in better circumstances, I would’ve found it pretty. I crumple the picture in my hands shaking my head. 

“Jonathan…” I groan. 

“It’s not what it looks like!” 

I stare at him in disbelief. “It doesn’t look like you’ve been taking unsolicited photos of us?”

Jonathan shakes his head. “No—” I scoff standing to my feet, walking to the nearest trash can. “Diana I can explain.” He calls from behind.  

I look back at him, feeling nothing but disappointment and anger. Anger about Nancy, Barb, Steve Tommy H, Carol, Nicole now Jonathan and these photos. I feel like everything is coming at me in all directions and I don’t know what to do.

“I was giving you my condolences for Will and you had these in your bag the entire time!” I shout, waving the scraps in my hands.  

“I’m sorry, okay!” Jonathan cries, rushing toward me. 

I scoff throwing the photos in the trash. “You developed them, Jonathan.”  That was the worst part about it. It’s one thing to take the photos, but to develop them. For what? For what reason? 

“I know, I know!” Jonathan exclaims. “I didn’t…I just…” he runs his fingers through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut. I know he feels bad, but I don’t care. 

“How long were you standing there taking photos of us? Some of these photos are of…” I look around before continuing. “Nancy taking off her shirt.” I hiss quietly at him. 

“I was looking for my brother and then I heard screaming and ran thinking it was my brother, but then I saw Tommy and Carol—”

“Oh, my god.” 

“I don’t know why I did it! There’s no excuse for it. I messed up.” 

“I am so…” I clench my hands into tight fists and squeeze my eyes shut. My chest feels tight. “Ugh.” I stomp the ground. “I can’t even think straight. You boys are so…so…stupid!” 

“I’m so sorry, Diana.” 

I open my eyes and take a deep breath finding Jonathan looking at me. I notice the bags under his eyes and how disheveled and stressed out he looks. He’s been through a lot the past few days, but it’s no excuse to do something like this. He looks down at his camera, toying with the cracked lens. For as long as I’ve known Jonathan, he’s never without his camera and now with Will gone, I know he has been more attached to it now, more than ever. 

“Let me see,” I sigh, extending my hand. Jonathan looks at me for a moment, but hands me his camera. 

I inspect the damage. It’s bad. He definitely won’t be able to use the camera anymore. Part of me thinks he deserved the confrontation, but the other part doesn’t think Stee had a right to break his camera. That was going overboard. Nonetheless…

“Steve didn’t need to break your camera to prove his point.” I begin, handing the camera back to him. “But honestly, it was justified. You invaded his privacy too, Jonathan.” 

When he doesn’t reply. I shake my head, fixing my bag on my shoulder. From the corner of my eye, I see someone coming towards us and I brace myself for round two, but when I turn, it’s Nancy. She’s speed walking and there’s a worried look on her face. Nancy touches my arm and pulls me. 

“I need you to come with me,” she whispers.