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aggressive-positivity-network · 3 years

Note

Do you have any autistic Scout headcanons? :P

Hell yeah!

I’ve actually thought about this a lot. A lot of people might think that Scout has ADHD, but I think he either has both ADHD and autism or just autism.

This is both because labeling Scout as having just ADHD is kind of a low-hanging fruit, and I also want to explore his symptoms a little more. So, in a word, I do, and thank you for asking about them!

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Scout’s Spectrum:

So, where exactly does Scout fall on the autism spectrum?

First of all, he probably has both ADHD and autism, but wasn’t diagnosed with the latter until much later. This means that some of his symptoms were taken into account, but not all.

The ones that were paid attention to ramped up out of control, and the ones he didn’t hear about were stuffed away.

His ADHD symptoms include impulsiveness, need for stimulation, hyperfixations, forgetfulness, and insomnia; his autism symptoms include trouble with social skills, stimming, near inability to remember names and faces, lack of eye contact, hyperfixations again, and sensory processing issues, especially with noise and touch.

He used to have a lot of meltdowns when he was younger, usually about wearing new clothes and the amount of noise his eight brothers generated.

However, he was teased and pushed into masking nearly all the time, and made his whole personality about his ADHD, since that was what everyone accepted.

As he got older, he usually wrote off any autistic tendencies as either his ADHD or just “little habits” of his.

During his middle school years, he used energy drinks to bounce back from being exhausted every day after school. This would work, except those energy drinks would upset his ADHD, and would make it much harder to focus on even basic conversation.

After a while, he got such bad grades and had such a hard time making friends that Scout just stopped going to school altogether.

Baseball helped his focus, and the quick movement and thinking made a lot of sense to him. He never had to wait very long for the next development, and the instant gratification and community it provided supplemented what he never got at school.

With sports on his side, he rarely ever drank any energy drinks (the coach would never let them on the field), and he drank bucketfuls of water during every meet and game. Those teenage years were probably the healthiest he ever was.

However, with the amount of rumbles he got into with his brothers, and the turf wars that constantly raged in those neighborhoods, it was only a matter of time before his crime caught up with him.

After his first incarceration, he was booted from the team, which led to a downward spiral of unhealthy coping mechanisms - which included fighting someone tooth and nail whenever he could.

Even if he lost the fight, it not only catered to his impulsive nature and impatience, but also gave him roughly the same sense of friendship and camaraderie that baseball had.

One thing led to another, and by the time Mann Co. found him, Scout was a monster in hand to hand (and bat to bat) and had racked up quite the criminal record.

A perfect mercenary, ripe for the picking.

On The Team:

Scout very quickly adopted the “stupid, scrappy Boston boy” persona.

It was the only thing that made sense, and it kept him from having to try too hard in both the battlefield and socially.

Besides, that meant that he could be as silly, forgetful, and fidgety as he wanted, and no one would bat an eye.

And if he ever needed to take a break from the team, he figured everyone would appreciate the quiet.

The only thing that ever gave him away was him occasionally dissociating right when battle began, especially if the day had been stressful.

It was usually how he calmed down after a fight when he was young, but now he sometimes slid into that state when he was overwhelmed.

However, a yell from one of his teammates would usually snap him out of it.

Medic noticed this pretty early on, and wanted to look more into it, but Scout would keep making excuses not to get a mental examination.

He would blame it on zoning out, being tired, drinking too many Bonks - whatever it took for people to stop asking.

And, eventually, they did.

Even Medic stopped asking after a while - he couldn’t get a thing out of Scout.

This “try so little that when you do try it’s above average” charade worked for a long time. In fact, it went on for so long that Scout forgot how much he was actually capable of.

He began to internalize the stupidity, the exacerbation, the many comments on how dumb he was, everything.

The only time he ever gave his all was on the battlefield - moving fast, memorizing strategies, doing complicated footwork, knowing exactly how much force it took to crush someone’s skull with his bat.

That was one of the only things that he felt good doing, the only thing he could really work on without him being “found out.”

That and drawing, though he never showed the actual pieces to anyone. It was all stick figures and crooked lines with everyone else.

Sometimes, though, Scout wouldn’t be paying attention and he’d let something slip.

One time, Engineer was looking for his screwdriver, and couldn’t seem to find it anywhere.

Scout, not looking up from his comic, said, “Under the couch cushion, hard hat.”

Engineer bent down and reached into the couch, and his hand came back with his red and yellow striped screwdriver.

“Well I’ll be damned…”

At first Engineer thought Scout had just hid it, but Scout explained, still not paying attention:

“Last time we went out on th’ field, you had it on your belt, like always. But I was walkin’ by your workshop, you were usin’ a quarter to tighten a screw or somethin’. Your screwdriver had to be somewhere between the battlefield and your workshop. Engie, you’re like freakin’ clockwork. Every day, after a fight, you go to the kitchen, get a water, go to that couch, between the second and third cushion from the left, and sit there. Then ya go back to the fridge to get lunch and a beer, and ya go to your workshop until somebody needs you for somethin’. Your back loop in your tool belt is looser than all the others, ‘cause the screwdriver pulls against it when you sit down. The shank was probably in between the two cushions, and when you got up, it fell in. Demo, Pyro, and Heavy all sit on the second or third cushion at some point, so it got shimmied down. And since that’s the only time you sat down, ‘cause you woulda heard it if it dropped on the floor, and I…uh…”

��I’ll be damned,” Engie repeated, and felt the back tool belt loop. It was indeed loose.

Scout finally looked up, and realized what had happened.

“Uh, uh - l-lucky guess, huh Engie?”

Engineer squinted behind his goggles. “Yeah…real lucky…”

What ensued was Engie trying to get Scout to turn into a B.L.U Spy by chasing him around with his wrench. After a few good hits, though, Engineer saw that it was the teammate he knew and loved.

“But…how didja…?”

Scout threw his hand up, the other rubbing the back of his head where he’d been hit.

“I toldja Engie! Lucky guess! Jesus!”

Ever since then, Scout chose his words more carefully.

The Breakdown:

But, unfortunately, Scout could not pretend forever.

There was one week where Scout’s assignment count was so high that, if he wasn’t in a fight, he was on a mission.

Usually, Pauling wouldn’t trust him with so much, but no one else was available - or willing - to do the jobs.

Even when she was getting concerned about the amount of hours Scout was putting in, he blew it off.

“It’s no sweat, Miss Pauling! Their practically givin’ me the pay day. Those yahoos don’t know who they’re messin’ with.”

Over time, though, Scout had a harder and harder time staying focused and alert.

He’d sleep through alarms, stare off into space, zone out completely during briefing (not that he didn’t already do that), have a hard time hearing people in battle - even through his headset - ignore Spy’s taunts, and even forget to bring his bat onto the field.

Nothing seemed to help - Bonk!, warming up, stretching, cold showers, setting reminders, nothing.

And the team was starting to notice.

At first it was with the regular frustration - maybe Scout was just being lazy.

But as time went on, and his condition grew worse, their scorn turned into worry. They implored Medic to do something, but he had no way of getting through to Scout.

The doctor wasn’t above simply sedating him and dragging him into his lab for a check-up. However, he had a feeling that this was more than a physical issue.

The worst came when Scout was doing a routine battle with the B.L.U team on the field.

Everything had started out okay - he even remembered to bring his bad this time - but suddenly, everything was ear-splittingly loud.

He couldn’t focus on more than one sound at once, much less communicate the best course of action to his teammates.

He ended up hiding in a dilapidated shed, in a dusty, dark corner, somewhere between zoning out and panicking.

Scout’s head was in his knees, he was shaking, close to crying, when a sudden splitting of wood roused him.

A B.L.U Soldier had kicked his way into the shed, either having heard Scout or to hide from the other team.

Scout was stunned at first, but something of a blind terror filled him. He picked up his bat, screamed, and started pummeling the surprised Soldier.

At some point, he threw aside his bat and began to swing punch after punch, just like he did in his gang days when he had felt overwhelmed. Still screaming. Still crying.

By the time Scout had dissolved into a rocking, sobbing mess, the Soldier was long dead, with a gigantic pool of blood staining Scout’s shoes.

No one even knew where Scout was until a few hours later, when Spy heard a faint note of “Sexbomb” coming from Scout’s Walkman.

Scout had crawled into the shed’s framework, between the outer and inner wall, and was playing a specific verse over and over and over again, looking like he was on another plane of existence.

Spy immediately called for Medic, who had to lift Scout out by the underarms through a jagged hole in the side of the building. By then, the fight was over, so they could take him directly to the lab.

Medic’s Evaluation:

“I’m guessing zhis is your first mental breakdown?”

“Mental��doc, I ain’t crazy. Wait, you’re not goin’ to put me in a straight jacket, are ya?”

“If you’re not doing anyzhing later.”

Medic started to laugh, but quickly realized this might not be the time.

“No, Scout, everyvun has a mental breakdown at least vunce in their lives. It’s a…how do you say…a vake-up call of sorts. Vhen your body has no other options left.”

“Whaddya mean?”

“For zhe past few months, you health, both physical and mental, has been deteriorating. You eat less. You talk less. Your attacks are lackluster. You have bags under your eyes. You flinch vhen somevun yells for you. You stare off into space. Your routine, vhich usually has at least some changes, has become stringent, as if you can’t possibly expend any more energy into extra activities. You have avoided Demoman on zhe battlefield, even though you usually use him for cover.”

Medic flipped through his notes.

“I have pages and pages of your decline. However, as a scientist, I believe it is caused by zhe same source. And, though I usually respect my patient’s right to privacy vhen it comes to these sorts of matters, I believe you’ve been keeping something from me. Something that I should know as your general practitioner…your doctor.”

Scout shrugged, already shutting out the conversation.

Medic sighed.

“Maybe I tried to talk to you about zhis too soon. After all, you’ve just had a very sudden and exhausting episode. But…perhaps…”

Medic took a sheet of printer paper from his clipboard and a spare pen from his pocket.

“…zhere is an alternative.”

Scout was still unresponsive, but Medic continued.

“Zhere is a patient in my vaiting room vis a metal pole through the chest. It vill take me at least an hour to properly remove it, and a few minutes more to heal zhe area. Vhile I do zhat, vhy don’t you draw how you feel?”

Medic smiled.

“I know how much it grounds you.”

It wasn’t until Medic left that Scout actually picked up the pen, but he began drawing immediately.

For the first time in a while, he wasn’t trying to hide his strokes or scratch up the cleaner lines. No more stick figures. No more pretending.

Five minutes later, he was fully engrossed.

Medic started to walk in at one point, but, seeing how relaxed Scout was, decided to give him a few more minutes.

He deserved it.

#tf2 #tf2 scout #scout tf2 #tf2 headcanons #headcanon requests #tf2 mercs #autism #autistic community #autistic culture #red team #blu team #valve games

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cordria · 3 years

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Twin Cores - DP

Saw this headcanon on Tumblr… awhile ago? It stuck with me, and I ended up writing this, and now I can’t find it to give the person proper credit. Lemme know if anyone recognizes this idea and knows who came up with it. (heart)

Was gonna do this idea for the Big Bang thing, but I forgot all about signing up. ;) Wonders. So I’ll just post it and come up with new ideas.

~2,700 words.

Danny floated high above the clouds, up where the air was thin and cold and the stars sparkled brightly overhead. It was terribly late, and Danny knew he’d be paying for this at school tomorrow, but this was always the best part of his week. He couldn’t come up here all the time, but when he cound, he always found himself relaxing. Hands behind his head, he floated on his back, studying the stars.

He let out a breath through his lips and brought a hand forwards to massage his chest, closing his eyes. Yesterday had not been good day. An accident with some of his parents’ technology had completely ruined his day. For reasons Danny didn’t understand, his chest had felt overly full since. Almost like he needed to cough up something - which couldn’t be, because his ghost form didn’t have any real lungs to cough with.

With a groan, Danny stretched and rolled his body through a bunch of sharp loop-the-loops and twists, hoping maybe he could work out the kink. Nothing. Hopefully it wouldn’t prevent him from getting a good night’s rest. He was exhausted.

He floated for a few minutes longer, watching the sky and hoping for a meteor or two, slowly turning the overfull feeling over in his mind. He pushed and prodded at the odd sensation, trying to come up with what in the world it could be.

It had to relate to his parents’ invention. Unfortunately, the day was a fuzzy blur in Danny’s memory and if something in particular had happened to him, he wouldn’t be able to remember it on his own. All he could do on his own was a vague understanding of what had happened.

Getting zapped with one of the newer devices yesterday had resulted in Danny getting split - again. His ghost half had fallen captive to the hero-like obsession of his core, and had gone on a hero-spree. A memory of rescuing a cat from a tree in a very overblown, comic-like way surfaced and Danny buried his face in his hands, embarrassed for himself. “Ugh, I hope nobody videoed that. Or anything else,” he muttered.

His human half had wandered aimlessly through the day, not knowing what to do with no driving force behind everything he did. Vague memories of eating pizza and not noticing the ghost haunting the place next door until Sam pointed it out filtered through the shadows.

From what he remembered, it hadn’t been a horrible sort of day for either half of him. His ghost half had been allowed to play with his obsession all day and his human half had gotten to just be… human. But he’d been split for much longer than ever before; Tucker and Sam were unable to work through how the strange invention worked.

Danny didn’t remember being much help with the endeavour. In fact, he sort of remembered his human half stealing the device, passing it to his ghost half, and the thing getting placed on top of the school for the afternoon. Jazz finally got it using some of the newer modifications to the Fenton’s vehicle that allowed it to fly.

By the time the three of them figured out how to reverse the effects, it was late in the evening on the second day - more than 36 hours since being split. Phantom had started to turn more and more ghost, losing more of his humanity each hour, delving deeper and deeper into this hero obsession. His eyes had turned more ghostly, teeth sharpening, fingers turning into claws. Even a cape had started to mist into view.

Danny slowly ran his tongue over his teeth - they were still a bit too sharp - and pulled his hands far enough away from his face to glance at his fingers. They weren’t claws, not like many ghosts had, but… his fingers no longer really looked human. The changes that had happened to his ghost form the last two days appeared to be permanent, even now that they were rejoined back together.

Danny… didn’t want to think about that. Not yet.

And his human half had started to go through changes as well. Danny vaguely remembered - towards the end of the escapade, when he’d convinced himself that he didn’t want to be rejoined with Phantom - trying to avoid everyone and ending up in a tree, floating in a very inhuman way. His totally human form regaining some of its ghost powers.

Danny mentally poked at the odd, full sensation in his chest again. Perhaps it was that his ghost powers had grown while he was separated. Phantom hadn’t been exactly a half-a-ghost when they’d been slammed back together. And Danny had been just a bit of ghost too. Perhaps now he was somehow 60% ghost and 50% human… and his body was trying to adjust to being too much ghost.

His mind poked at the sensation in his chest just a bit too hard. Danny slammed his eyes shut tight as he felt the sensation of transformation travel through him - lightning sharp and aching into his phantom bones. Panic set in a second later. He couldn’t transform up here - there wasn’t enough oxygen for his human form to breathe. He’d pass out and fall to his death.

He gasped and threw his arms out, instinctively trying to grab something even though he was on the edge of the atmosphere, as the transformation arced through his arms and legs. He kept his eyes closed as he fumbled for his ghost side. He needed to transform back fast. His human side would already be aching to breathe, desperate for oxygen after the last hour of being in ghost form.

But his ghost side… was…

Danny opened his eyes as he realized he wasn’t falling. As he realized his ghost form wasn’t something to grab for, because he was still a ghost.

“But…” he whispered, startled and confused. He’d felt himself transform. There was no mistaking the sensation that had swept through him. He looked around, almost as if the answer would be written in the air next to him.

Then the stars caught his gaze. He froze, mouth falling open, as he stared up at the sky. There were more stars than before, the whole sky alight with points of light. And he knew them - with each star he focused his eyes on, he knew what that star was. How far away it was, what it’s name was, what kind of star it was…

Delight sparkled inside him as he let his gaze drift across the heavens. Stars he didn’t even know existed seemed to soak into his skin, whispering all their secrets in his ears. “How…?” he breathed, twisting around and around and looking everywhere he could. “Why?”

His gaze snagged on the moon, crescent-shaped and gleaming. He almost felt like he was drowning in it’s glow, feeling everything about it. The ice hiding in its craters. The human-built machinery peppering its surface. The soft warmth still coiling in its dying core. He could just… go there. He could be there in about three seconds. He could just…

He threw up a hand, blocking the moon’s glow, blinking hard and pushing the thoughts out of his mind. “Holy shit,” he whispered, breathing hard, focusing on Earth, on human thoughts, on normalcy. “What is this?”

Then he saw his hand, thin fingers topped with sharp claws, glove missing. His forehead furrowed as he realized both his gloves were gone, as was the logo on his chest, and the white belt around his waist. A black shirt and black pants. His boots looked like his normal shoes, just moon-lit white. Actually, minus the claws and some color changes, he looked… like he had yesterday. “Uh… What is going on with me?”

He could feel the pull of the stars overhead. He knew he could just lean back, put his arms behind his head, and float there, watching the sky forever. Just revel in space for all time. Instead, he kept his gaze down towards the tops of the clouds.

At least the first step of what he should do now was clear. Whenever he was dealing with anything out of the ordinary, Sam and Tucker knew what to say. They’d help. He’d go home, grab his phone, and call them.

Danny flew towards Amity Park-

-and suddenly drew to a stop. He twisted around, eyes wide, realizing that he’d somehow overshot his home by a dozen miles or more. “What the fuck?” he said. He’d only been flying for a moment - how was he all the way over here? “I…”

He licked his lips and tried again. He set his gaze on Amity Park and flew-

-right past Amity Park again. It was an eyeblink of time between one side of the city and the other. Danny hung in the air, confused and slightly annoyed. “What is going on?” he said. A new power, obviously - but one that had unfortunate timing. His fingers curled, the claws digging uncomfortably into his palms. “This is what I get for leaving my phone behind,” he groused. The phone wouldn’t have done well in the thin, cold atmosphere. Even if he’d have brought it with, there was no guarantee it would have still been working.

“Are all my powers wonky?” Danny asked, raising his hand and pushing energy into his hand. Instead of a steady, gas-like glow, the energy sparkled and hissed, like he was holding onto an exploding firework. “Odd.”

His powers were working differently, so it was time to try using them differently. Time to change tactics. Instead of focusing on a direction, Danny focused his mind on a destination. He closed his eyes, picturing where exactly he wanted to end up. Opening his eyes and taking a deep breath, he tried to fly as slowly as possible.

The world seemed to blur and twist, glowing uncomfortably bright for the fraction of a second Danny allowed himself to be in motion. When the world settled back into place, Danny found himself hovering about ten feet off the ground, within the city of Amiry Park, only about a half-mile from his house. “That worked a lot better,” he said, rather pleased with himself.

Instead of chancing another attempt at flying, Danny figured he’d turn himself human. A ten foot drop wouldn’t be too bad, and he could walk home. It would be the least-tricky way to get home. He took a moment to worry that this new power would prevent him from turning human as easily as normal, but then slammed that idea shut and closed his eyes.

Danny pushed his ghost form away, pulling at that warm and heavy feeling in his mind. There was a sparkling sensation in his mind, then the sharp pain that came with turning himself human again. He dropped, landing lightly on his toes, breathing a heavy sigh of relief that at least this was still normal. He bounced a few times, testing out a few basic powers - invisibility seemed to work like normal, as did phasing through things. He didn’t try floating, for fear of accidentally ending up two towns over and two hundred feet above the ground in human form.

He walked home, rubbing his chest at that strange, too-full sensation, and snuck in the back door. Despite the fact that all the lights were out, he kept himself invisible to avoid his parents. It was so far past curfew that Danny didn’t even want to think about the trouble he’d be in if they realized he was still out.

His bedroom door was still locked. Danny phased through it, flipped on the lights, and dumped himself into his bed. “Ugh,” he groaned, feeling the drain of the last two days on his body. He glanced over at the clock. Just before two in the morning. Part of him wanted to just curl up in his bed and fall asleep, try to get a few hours of sleep before tackling school tomorrow. But too much of him had a tight ball of anxious curiosity.

He groaned as he rolled out of bed and stepped in front of his mirror. He looked awful. Dark rings under his eyes and a horrible, pale tone to his skin. He looked half dead. “On the positive side, nobody will question it if I want to stay home sick tomorrow,” he muttered. He shuddered and shifted his weight, closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then triggered the transformation.

His ghost form spread like lightning across his skin, slammed through his head, and settled into his chest like a cold ball of fire. He squeaked one eye open just a touch, not sure of what he was going to see.

Phantom was peering back at him. Danny relaxed, letting his eyes open, and studied himself. From more than a few feet away, he looked absolutely normal. But up close, there were minor changes from the last few days. Teeth that were too pointy. Fingers that were a little more claw-like than normal. Hair that was more… smokey. Just a little. His mouth twisted, unsure of how he felt about the changes. “At least there’s no cape,” he murmured. “I’d look too much like Vlad with a cape.”

He squared his shoulders, set his teeth, and tried flying. He floated up and moved around his bedroom like normal. “So normal.” He caught sight of his claws and shivered. “Mostly.”

“Now…” He took a deep breath and jabbed hard at the over-full feeling in his chest. He was half-hoping nothing would happen. But light sparkled along his body, that tingling almost-painful sensation changing him in very subtle ways. His clothes changed from a jumpsuit to shirt and pants, his shoes looked like they would squeak on the floor as he walked. He was still glowing and transparent. “I’m… a different ghost?” He spread out his arms, feet firmly on the floor afraid to hover. “And I have like… superspeed.”

He took a very careful step forwards, peering closely at himself in the mirror. His eyes looked the same, with the normal green glow. His teeth were sharper, canines almost like little fangs. And… he leaned in, studying his freckles. They glowed, star-like, forming constellations across his skin.

His mind veered off tangent, remembering the stars overhead, the glittering facts that swirled through his mind, the odd bubbling joy that came with even thinking about space. The freckles on his cheeks rearranged themselves into the constellation Draco, and sparks and speckles swirled into life across his clothes. A supernova that resolved itself into the stars overhead. Danny could trace the stars in his clothes, knew everything about each star. He was caught by the strongest urge to fly there. To zip through space to Alrakis, a binary star system eighty-eight light years away. It would only take him 221 years, 5 months, and 3 days…

Danny jerked himself out of his thoughts. He couldn’t fly for over two hundred years. He shuddered and blinked, settling back on his heels. The glowing freckles on his face settled down, his clothes faded back to black. The familiar sort of pitch-black of space. The sort of black Danny imagined the universe looked like before stars existed. “I have space powers now,” Danny realized, his voice slow and excited. “I have space powers! I’m a space ghost!”

Curious, Danny poked at that over-full feeling in his chest again. The world tingled and flashed, and he was back to his old self. Phantom, with the logo and the better posture and the weight of the world resting on his shoulders. “I’m two ghosts, somehow? Two ghosts… and a human...” Danny stared at himself in the mirror. “Or...” he rested his hand on his chest, feeling that strange overly-full feeling. “Or something…?”

Danny shook his head, not sure where to even begin processing that one. Then he turned himself human again, watching the world get dark as the ghost energy faded away. He scratched at his scalp, trundled over to his bed, and dropped into its softness.

There wasn’t much he knew right then. The first was that space powers were the coolest power he could have gotten. And the second was that all this would be easier to process after a few hours of sleep and a large cup of caffeine.

#danny phantom #twin cores #space core AU #this was fun to write #thanks for the idea :)

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fill-me-with-your-memes-daddy · 3 years

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Watching the Rise of the Titans movie and I'll be documenting all of my thoughts/reactions here. [Spoiler Warning]

So instead of reblogging every new update, I'm just going to have this post up on my phone as I watch and type my reactions in a bullet list format.

Nari's human disguise is so cute. As someone who does have a cottagecore aesthetic, I want to cosplay her so bad

Are Skrael and/or Belroc non-binary coded? Regardless, I'm also obsessed and I want to fuck Skrael and be Belroc.

STEVE CARING ABOUT JIM BEING HURT YESSSS!!! My god his redemption has probably been one of the greatest there is because he doesn't just suddenly go from being a bully to a completely good person. You can see the gradual shift in learning better throughout the shows which is awesome.

IN NEW YOOOOOOORRRRRRRK!!!!!! CONCRETE JUNGLE WHERE DREAMS ARE MADE OFFFFFFFFFFFFF!!!!!

The mugshot montage reminded me of season 1 of trollhunters when toby and Jim were arrested at the museum.

STRICKLER PUT A RING ON IT??? HE'S THE ONLY DILF IVE EVER ACTUALLY AGREED WAS HOT WYM I CAN'T HAVE HIM??? well I'm still really happy about his arc over the series probably one of my favorite character growths.

Eli my guy got his growth spurt!!! As an 18 year old who is still 5'0", I'm happy but envious for him

So I went into this movie without watching any trailers or promo, but I doubt anything could have prepared me for the existence of mpreg. In fact, I wasn't going to document my reactions until I saw that.

NAMURA!!!!!!!!! MY BELOVED!!!!!! I CAN STILL THIRST FOR YOU WITHOUT GUILT

The coach teacher just called the kids zoomers so I have to dock one point from my final rating just because of that. Unforgivable

Those husky animation models suck lmao

Oh fuck the titans got power ranger zords!!

God why did they include the mpreg??? This movie would have been perfect without it.... After that plot point being revisited only one time I'm already beyond done with it

Like it's bringing me back to the v*ltron days where they're was a suspiciously high amount of klance omegaverse and mpreg fics and art created and it physically hurts because Steve and Keith's voice actor is the same person meaning this is especially cursed to me since I was unfortunately in the v*ltron fandom and remember all of that

But like on another note, how old are these characters again??? I haven't checked any wikis because of spoilers but is Steve an adult??? I know aja might be technically a lot older than 18 because alien but is whatever age she is equivalent to an adult as far as emotionally and physically in Akaridion development??? IS THIS A TEEN (M)PREGNANCY IN A KIDS SHOW????

Like bruh I saw a singular post on here before going into the movie that was like "rott spoilers without context" and there was a pregnant belly but I was absolutely not expecting the actual context of it. I'll find the post after I finish and edit this post to tag the creator right here: @makoden

This entire post is just gonna be me ranting about mpreg huh

Anyway I love the whole roundtable allusion to the legends of king arthur (not the toa version but the one he's based off)

THERE'S 3 TO 5 BABIES????? I need to take a break bruh this is just too much

Alright I've taken a 30 minute break got some food and did some things i love (decompressed by tactile stimming with some owl plushies and watched some videos on my favorite owl, Garu. He lives in Japan with his owner and is a domesticated eagle owl who basically just acts like a sky cat. If anyone else needs some eye bleach, here is their YouTube channel)

Blinky and ARRRGHHH!!! saying their "if one of us doesn't make it" talk my god one of them is going to die I can see it and I will be utterly crushed. Jim can't lose another father figure and Toby can't lose his wingman again I will riot if this happens

On a similar but unrelated to the movie note, can we just talk about how toa started with Jim having 0 dads and (if strickler and blinky live to the end) will end with 2 dads? Like I just really feel happy for him that he has two dads who actually figured out how to put the past behind them to not have any infighting between them so that both of them are healthy father figures. Jim has already been through literal hell and back losing his actual humanity in the process so if he loses one of them, I'm going to be really pissed because at this point, this is just Jim torture porn. Y'all know how as SpongeBob SquarePants went on, the show just became Squidward torture porn? It's starting to feel that way for toa and I really hope they cut the shit by the ending

Jlaire is such a good ship but like I feel like it's too perfect they never disagree with each other

YESSSSSSS Someone finally doesn't treat toby like a fat waste of space who messes stuff up!!! I think out of all the characters that would have been most deserving of a rewrite, it's Toby. Sometimes I just feel he's only comic relief and any heartfelt moments he's had in the series was also born of stupidity (ie his flour baby project being unharmed was seen by him as divine intervention from his parents but was actually just Eli and Steve behind the scenes).

Ohhhhh yesssssss Archie's father!!! I was hoping I'd see him again because we got so little of him last

Ooooooooooh Asian trollmarket!!!!!

Oh never mind slavery trollmarket

Bruh titanic camelot

I feel like we're not seeing enough of the villains because I completely forgot about the power ranger zord things

NAMORA NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO MY LAST CRUSHHHH

STRICKLER NO NOT YOU TOO PLEASE

WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

THE ONLY TWO CHARACTERS I SIMP FOR ON THIS SHOW DIED WITHIN FIVE MINUTES OF EACH OTHER

THAT WHOLE ASS RANT I WROTE IS COMING TRUE FUCK THIS MOVIE THIS SERIES IS JUST JIM TORTURE PORN

WAIT JIM'S SPERM DONOR INFO?

Oh thank God I don't want to know anything about that person

For the record, I call that man Jim's sperm donor because he has no business being called a father to him. All he did was donate some swimmers to the creation of him and give him abandonment issues

Oh another blind troll elder???? This fucker is just if vendel was a bad guy

Bruh I was grieving

PACIFIC RIM WITH GUN ROBOT VEX AND THE BELROCZORD? I've never seen that movie but I know the reference

Bruh Blinky doesn't read horoscopes? Does he realize conspiracy theories are just the manly version of horoscopes?

NO DON'T KILL VEX STOP KO-ING FOUND FAMILY MEMBERS

Oh thank God he's okay

NO NOT ARCHIE AND CHARLEMAGNE OH MY GOD

oh never mind they're just gonna coup de tat I believe in them :))

But I want to see him again

But I'm glad to see vex

Yay they're in arcadia!

But yeah I wondered why the trolls and Merlin didn't keep the whole "daylight doesn't hurt trolls" feature from the eternal night but now Guillermo del Toro I see you were playing the long con in that just to kill my girl Namora :(((

Oooooh I love the animation of the Narizord over Chihuahua!! It looks very good and realistic (if only they could have put some of that into those huskies from before smh)

Bruh the character designs of the arcane order are so good I want to be them

Nari making sure the Skraelzord doesn't crush the bus

DAMN DOUBLE HOMICIDE

Bruh I'm just glad we finally have an answer on why arcadia had everything going on as opposed to literally anywhere else!! I always found that as a weird coincidence for plot convince.

BRUH WERE BACK TO THE MPREG IM SO JEALOUS I FORGOT ABOUT THAT EVEN THOUGH IT WAS BECAUSE I WAS GRIEVING THE LOSS OF MY LOVELIES.

Oh that's real convenient that the ninth configuration meant all of them. Way to not decide which character gets more attention. Though it probably was a smart way to not have any infighting in the fandom between each character's stan group.

Bruh I just realized where is Barbera did they just ditch her on the Camelot ship???

And where are the other trolls that migrated at the end of trollhunters s3? They said something about new jersey but obviously Jim and the other main characters got on Camelot instead.... This feels like a plot hole

And we never learned the process of how changelings are made and bonded to humans and stuff. We just know it's super painful but I'm curious ffs!!!!

THE DONT THINK BECOME HERO SPEECH ALL SAID TOGETHER!!!

BRUH THEY REALLY HAD TO SHOW HIM GIVING BIRTH??????? WAS THAT AN ABSOLUTE MUST??????

Plus the main audience for this series is little children (the rating for the movie is literally TV-Y7) so even though my adult ass is not in the target audience, I STILL DONT UNDERSTAND WHY WOULD MPREG AND ANAL BIRTH WOULD BE AN IMPORTANT THING TO 7 YEAR OLDS???? THIS IS A LITERAL FETISH HIDDEN IN KIDS CONTENT ITS ELSAGATE ALL OVER AGAIN Y'ALL 😭😭😭😭😭

Though it's probably hypocritical of me to think fetishes don't belong in kids tv when I've openly admitted to thirsting for strickler and namora

HUZZAH

NEW AMULET WAZ GOOD????

STAB THAT BITCH JIM

WAIT NO I SAID STAB NOT GET STABBED

Alright good job just missed the directions at first but you fixed it

SEVEN KIDS?????????

T O B Y ????????????

W A I T NO

N O

IS HE ACTUALLY

OH MY GOD THERE'S HOPE

NO THERE ISN'T

F U C K THIS SHIT THEY REALLY JUST HAD HIM TO BE BULLIED THEN KILLED

Y'ALL IM ACTUALLY CRYING THIS NEVER HAPPENS

I NEVER ACTUALLY GET SO EMOTIONAL OVER MEDIA THAT I CRY IT ONLY HAPPENED ONCE AT THE END OF VOLTRON BUT AHHHHHHHH

W A I T

HE'S GONNA BE BROUGHT BACK?????

HOLD UP THEY'RE JUST GONNA BRING ALL THOSE DEAD PEOPLE BACK??????

WAIT IS HE

BLINKY CALLED HIM A SON

HOLD ON IS THIS GOING TO BE A CLIFFHANGER???????????

BRUH THEY REALLY JUST CAN'T END THE SERIES WITHOUT CLIFFHANGERS like there's always an open ending

TROLLHUNTER TOBY????? You know what forget the whole rants I had on how toby was written they just redeemed it all

And that's all! I'd rate it a 6.5/10 because it's definitely the weakest of all the sequels but still had amazing animation and some good plot points. It's just really hard to look over the bad stuff enough to rate it any higher.

#tales of arcadia #rise of the titans #trollhunters #rott #rise of the titans spoilers #rott spoilers #toa #3 below #athena's own original post!#jim lake jr #claire nuñez #toby domzalski

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dinosaurtsukki · 3 years

Text

⸻𝕔𝕙. 𝟟: in which an exciting afternoon happens

i stole my neighbor's wifi password | a fyodor x gn!reader bsd smau

a/n: forgot to mention that this chapter has a short written part abt what happens after so i hope you guys enjoy that !

𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕥'𝕕:

fyodor didn’t know what was more embarrassing: the fact that he almost fainted in the hallway when he tried to go out to buy some food, the fact that this happened in full view of his neighbor who also left their apartment, or the fact that he was lying on the floor with his feet propped up on the wall beside his neighbor who insisted on staying until sigma came.

normally, fyodor would have been able to argue his way out of this situation but his vision literally almost went completely dark earlier before he was leaning his weight against the wall. and then he was hearing a string of ‘oh my god, oh my god, are you okay?’ from you before being helped down to the floor.

“thank god my friend’s a med student,” fyodor heard you say. “is that a bit better?”

“yeah...” fyodor mumbled. he was starting to see a bit better despite the headache and could even make out you sitting on the floor beside him. “are you sure you don’t have somewhere to be?” he asked.

“don’t worry, i can spare some time,” you shook your head. “all-nighters are rough and my friends always take care of me when i get sick from them so i don’t mind helping out.”

even though you did get his wifi password without permission, fyodor could definitely tell that you were one of those people who were needlessly kind. especially with the way you’d sometimes bring him food if you ever made too much. ‘with the kind of bank account balance you have, i suggest not doing that,’ fyodor thought on numerous occasions when you showed up at his door. but, he knew that would be impolite and decided against it.

besides, you cooked quite well.

on the other hand, you didn’t find the situation any less awkward than he did. you were glad you were there to help but now you kind of wished fyodor’s friend would already show up.

while thinking about a conversation topic, your gaze fell on fyodor’s legs that were currently resting on the wall beside you and you couldn’t help but think about how comical you two looked. “your legs are really long,” you ended up blurting out.

“thanks, i grew them myself,” fyodor quipped. you bit your lip to stifle a laugh only to be caught off-guard when your neighbor chuckled.

“i am definitely light-headed right now,” he said.

“if i may ask, why did you pull two all-nighters in a row? one is understandable but two?” you asked.

“flooded with work. and i’m not the type to let go of what i need to do until it’s done,” fyodor sighed. “at least i’m on break for the rest of the week.”

“make sure you rest up by then.”

fyodor nodded before pulling his phone out of his pocket to check a message. “my friend is just downstairs already. you can go ahead now if you want.”

“are you sure?” you asked. now that you had the opportunity to leave, you kind of didn’t want to.

“yeah,” fyodor nodded again. he could tell you were still uncertain so he went ahead and said “if you want, i can save your contact info and message you if something happens.”

now why would he do that? what was your peace of mind to him? and yet, what was he to you that you would take some time out of the day to make sure he was alright? fyodor didn’t have time to dwell on it too much when he saw the relieved smile on your face before adding himself as a friend on your phone.

“let me know if something happens, okay?” you wave one last time at him before going down the stairs. fyodor feels much better now but for some reason, he still remains seated in the middle of the hallway until sigma finally arrives.

↞ prev | next ↠

masterlist

⸺ 𝕗𝕦𝕟 𝕗𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕤:

↠ this was actually inspired by the time i also almost fainted in the middle of a building hallway and a security guard saw the whole thing on cctv

↠ chuuya has the best-looking apartment out of everyone in his friend group and he’s definitely a neat freak

↠ sigma gave fyodor an earful as soon as his friend told him what happened

↠ hearing y/n freak out kind of kept fyodor conscious and he doesn’t know why

⸺ 𝕥𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥:

@kiyoobi @atsumusdomain @laure-chan @goodfoodxoxoxo @guardianangelswings @ah-kaashi @whootwhoot @liz-multifandom-hotel @kac-chowsballs @fyoyacanruinmylifethanks @loubells @smadhuman @himboos @ugh-tsumu @jigozuki @strawberry-milk-supremacy @nagisaluvs @deefeatist @hanazou @honeypirate @violentfarewll @nightmare-light @hmaeziggy @cross-crye @whorefordazai @rirk-ke

reblogs and comments are much appreciated ♡

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thanksjro · 4 years

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More Than Meets the Eye #33: In Which I Write the Word ‘Quantum‘ 19 Times

Dang, I forgot what happened at the end of the last issue. It was pretty important, too, but I don’t have time to reread. Maybe the establishing shot can help me out?

Oh, that’s right, Rewind happened!

Everyone’s pretty jazzed that Rewind is here, non-exploded, and supposedly alive. Megatron carries this ridiculously small man over to a table, while Skids is busy admonishing Nightbeat for trying to put the pieces of this mystery together.

That’s one of the two first canonically, openly gay Transformers, Megatron. You bet your ass he’s important.

Nightbeat’s dragged Nautica over to look at that poster for Crosscut’s play they saw last issue. Together, they discover something interesting, and it’s not that Nightbeat’s chin has elongated to the point of absurdity. On this future ship, the play was completed and produced a mere few weeks after the initial launch of the Lost Light.

While this is going on, Rewind wakes up and asks Skids what the hell is going on. Skids, likely not wanting to poke at farm-fresh trauma, glosses over the fact that everyone on this ship was violently murdered, and that they found Rewind blacked out inside the hollowed torso of his brother-in-law.

…This is a dark story line.

You see, the joke here is that “Dark Cybertron” sucked major chrome.

Megatron reminds everyone that they’re still in grave danger every moment they stay aboard this ship, but Skids is more concerned with Rewind’s mental health. Which is sweet, but maybe not the thing to prioritize in such a precarious situation.

Rewind takes the fact that Megatron is an Autobot now pretty friggin’ well, as well as the introduction of gender into his species. That is, until Nightbeat, the king of social graces, saunters up to the scene to ask Rewind what the hell happened to the ship. He does get his answers, despite Rewind being horrified to the point of speechlessness.

Over at the hole in the wall, Nautica and Riptide are taking a gander at the quantum drums, which house the quantum foam for the quantum engines so quantum jumps can happen.

As Nautica explains the process by which quantum travel works, she realizes that the answer to what happened to everyone who disappeared was right in front of them this whole time.

Quantum, quantum, quantum- doesn’t even sound like a word anymore, does it?

The data slug Rewind made corroborates this theory, showing a series of events that definitely didn’t happen to the Lost Light we’ve been following throughout this story so far. The data slug contains this Rewind’s version of dead Rewind’s “Little Victories”, the travelogue that was never completed, where the question “are you happy?” revealed just how emotionally unhealthy most of the crew is. I’d like to imagine this Rewind’s film is called “Small Achievements”, or perhaps “Dear Fucking Lord, We’ve Been on this Trip for Three Hours and the Captain Has Been Killed by a Goddamned Soul-Vampire”, or maybe even “Where the FUCK is Our Therapist”.

The DJD came into the equation by way of someone having led them to the Lost Light. We get a flashback panel of the gorefest, in which Tarn appears to have learned how to fly, given the angle he’s coming from.

Because Rewind’s big thing in this series is being the guy who records stuff, the DJD take the opportunity to make some movies of their visit to the space yacht.

James, why do you keep getting Rewind involved with snuff films? I’m starting to get concerned.

Now, the thing about Rewind is that he’s almost always accompanied by his other half. Where is Chromedome, anyway?

He’s dead, that’s where.

Turns out, when you tell the DJD that you won’t do the thing they want you to do, they have a habit of doing nasty things in retaliation. Chromedome got stabbed in the friggin’ visor with his own finger needles, because Vos enjoys ironic deaths, I suppose. There’s some other stuff that’s implied to have happened, but we’ll get to that once we learn a little more about the DJD themselves.

While Rewind recounts the grisly tale of his husband’s demise, Riptide notes that the quantum foam has begun to spread at a remarkable rate. This is a bad thing, because that shit can and will explode, given half the chance, and this wreck is floating right above a potentially-inhabited planet.

Though I could have sworn we established that this planet was a Smartplanet, and therefore very much populated by students and staff. I don’t know. Maybe we conveniently forgot that, so we could make this a learning moment for Megatron.

Jiminy Christmas, Megs, do you even listen to yourself?

Skids, who has had a very long day of finding corpses and learning about quantum theory, snaps at Megatron, telling him that in order to actually be an Autobot, you have to have a little frickin’ compassion for those outside of your peer group.

Which is sort of contradictory to the Aequitas trials, the Killswitch debacle, the POW situation back on Cybertron, and whatever the fuck Prowl’s whole deal is, but maybe Skids is speaking about his own, personal relationship with being an Autobot. Hopefully so, otherwise he needs a class on critical thinking, STAT.

Never mind all of that though, because the problem just got a lot worse- the quantum foam has expanded to a point where any holes in the stuff are too small for the Rod Pod to get through. We’re going to have to get creative if we want to save the day.

Luckily, we’ve got a quantum duplicate of just about the tiniest little dude in the franchise here to do the job. Now we just need another, equally tiny little man, so the quantum drums can be shut off at the same time. Nautica commits more microaggressions, and this gives Getaway inspiration for a witty quip, which in turn gives Skids a brilliant idea.

The gang heads down to Brainstorm’s lab, to look for the mass displacement gun that was used for treating Ultra Magnus’s nanocon infestation back in the 2012 Annual. While they search, Nautica explains just why the hell the Lost Light disappeared in the first place. You see, quantum duplication acts on the Cain Instinct— it’s fine, as long as the duplicates don’t perceive each other. However, the moment contact is made, it says “oh man, guess I’m gonna have to end you” to one of the duplicates. The contact in this case happened when the Coffin Rodimus was brought aboard the ship.

Anything that wasn’t aboard the Lost Light at the point of the takeoff/explosion was never duplicated, and thus wasn’t erased from reality once shit started going to hell. This is why the Rod Pod is still around, and why the remaining cast are— well, the remaining cast.

While this conversation is going on, Nautica and Nightbeat uncover yet another dead body; it’s Brainstorm, and he’s a little underdressed.

…Someone run a paternity test, I think Cyclonus might be the father.

Also, Brainstorm’s a double agent.

Fucked up.

Getaway is furious that a Decepticon has been living on the same ship as him for the last six months, right under his proverbial nose. Even Megatron’s surprised, stating that Brainstorm isn’t usually who the recruiters aim for.

So, no mass displacement gun, and now they’re aware of the fact that there’s a traitor on the ship who’s had access to a LOT of weapon tech. It’s at this point that Megatron decides to stop lying by omission and tells everyone that he can mass-displace, since he used to turn into a handgun.

Smashcut to Megatron and Rewind floating out in space, the former now not much taller than the latter, as they traverse the web of quantum foam to get to the drums. Nautica instructs them from the Rod Pod. If this works, anything produced or connected to the quantum engine will be neutralized, and maybe we’ll even get the other Lost Light back! YAAAAAY!!!

Y’all really let this man go out there to fuckin’ kill himself for the greater good, didn’t you?

Rewind is honestly pretty chill with ceasing to be, seeing as he watched 200/+ people die today, including his long-time spouse.

Jesus. I’d say get him a therapist, but in order to do that, we’re going to have to wipe him off the map anyway.

Rewind asks Megatron if the Chromedome that isn’t his and his duplicate are still together. And I mean…

Luckily, Megatron has the good sense to lie.

With that, they flip the switches, and deactivate the drums.

And that’s a series wrap on Rewind! Congrats to Mr. James Roberts for the esteemed honor of burying the same gay twice!

Later on, everyone is back inside the Rod Pod, as their disappeared shipmates return from being nonexistent. Chromedome pops back in, and Skids is on him like a shark, telling him to go on the roof. Skids doesn’t even try to explain why. Which, fair. How the hell do you explain to someone that their dead husband’s quantum duplicate survived both a terrorist splinter cell attack, and the laws of quantum sci-fi bullshit crashing down on his tiny, tiny body, and that he’s right there on the roof waiting for them?

Welp, there goes the Chromedome/Dominus endgame. Shame, that.

Looks like Chromedome finally hit the threshold for having earned Roberts’ pity, and won’t be directly targeted by the plot for a little while. This isn’t something you see very often, so let’s really soak this in.

…Someone had to have told Rewind what happened to the other Rewind, right? I wonder what that conversation was like.

Back inside the ship, Blaster gets word that the Lost Light has reappeared. As they navigate towards it, Megatron requests that an encrypted call be made to Rodimus, to discuss the Brainstorm problem.

In the interim, Ravage is offered the opportunity to be a part of the crew, so he doesn’t have to keep skulking around in the shadows. We don’t get an answer from him, as our focus shifts over to Nightbeat and Nautica.

Nightbeaaaaaaaaaat, stop stating the themes of the comic verbatim! People are going to start thinking you’re a shonen anime protagonist!

Nightbeat’s somehow managed to keep ahold of the briefcase that they found on the other Lost Light. Unless Brainstorm’s boyfriend is in there, I don’t think this one was the work of Huey Lewis and the News’ hit single from the Back to the Future soundtrack.

Over on the Lost Light, specifically in Swerve’s, Brainstorm’s making his way through the crowd, briefcase held gentle like hamburger as he goes. He makes it to the bar, where Atomizer tells him he can’t have his briefcase in here. Brainstorm has what most would accept to be a healthy response to being told “no.”

It’s what I would do.

#transformers #jro #MTMTE #slaughterhouse #issue 33 #maccadam #Hannzreads #text post #long post #comic script writing

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alldayangst · 4 years

Text

gold rush (Tom Holland)

All of my fics are LGBT and PoC friendly. Inspired by gold rush by Taylor Swift. Everybody wants Tom, but you don’t like a gold rush. WC: 2.7K words.

“Y/N, I just wanted to say again, thank you for coming in today and doing this for us.” Tom’s dad, Dominic, said as he displaced papers across desks, earl grey swaying like an angry lake in his mug. Approaching footsteps hinted that the star of the show was soon to be hold. In other words, Tom was running behind.

The door creaked and light from the corridor crept through like Sun peeping through curtains of the Night. It refusing to shut after Tom budged and pushed was maybe divine punishment for him being so late, and maybe provided the bit of laughter you needed after rolling out of bed at 6am for this, for him. When the door eventually did close, Tom turned around and saw you in all your glory; much taller than he remembered, more assured than he’d imagined, and more gorgeous than drowned out and half forgotten memories of you could ever fabricate.

You and Tom ran in the same social circles, but hadn’t seen each other since Tom’s career imploded when you were both nineteen. As much as Tom felt he owed his heart and soul to the UK, he maintained an almost permanent fixture on the States. It started to feel like his trips back to England were in fact actual holiday. At one point, you were in love with Tom, but meeting became a constant battle of ‘here, not there’ and your heart grew tired of the duck and goose chase. The gravity of the situation was too much for you, whom hadn’t even tasted their twenties yet.

“Y/N!” Tom launched at you and held you in tight embrace. You let go of the hug, but he didn’t. And his dad watched on in momentary awe as you wrapped your arms around Tom once again, who breathed in every part of you with unwavering adoration.

“Tom!” You rubbed along his back as he hummed. “When I was told we were gonna have a ghost writer, I had no idea it was gonna be you.”

Tom and his dad (being an author) were collaborating on a book, a million dollar idea that’d been years in the making. Tom had stalled it, his dad told you out of simple insecurity. Now that the world was a stage, he was worried people would criticise his dyslexia with every line he wrote, that every stroke of his pen would reveal him as a rare type of monster that lacked intellect, he pondered that he wasn’t insightful enough in some way. His dad may have written a book about Tom outfaming him, but Tom felt like he’d always live in Dom’s shadow in this respect. Fresh from Oxford with an English Bachelor’s degree, Dom employed you to get grease on the gears to commence writing. Tom had always come out of his shell when you were around.

Your writing session lasted from 8 til noon, when Tom had promo with LadBible or Entertainment Weekly or whoever had bid the highest from his presence that day.

The door swung open and three men in all black and mics saddled around their waists called for and led Tom out of the room.

“Tom, session’s over. We need to get you to your BBC promo in 30 and we’re already running behind schedule.’ One cloaked Tom in a jacket you were sure was more expensive than your own home and another whispered something into a walkie talkie: “Holland is on the move. Check the back entrance is clear.” With that, Tom rose to his feet and left completely opposite of the way you came in. Without a word, no goodbye.

You and Dom left the building together around ten minutes later, where ten men with large cameras stood, lenses focused on you, glaring at you, not sure what to make of you. One of the men screams “Hey! You dating Tom Holland” and after that all you hear is clicks and all you see is bright flashing lights and Dom clenches your hand and leads you to your taxi cab.

The next time you see Tom is sooner than expected. The Hollands were hosting a last minute dinner party and you found yourself sitting opposite Tom, feeling his hard, hot and heavy gaze on you. The tension in the room was so thick not even a chainsaw cut through.

“Next topic,” You picked up a card from the deck and read it aloud. “Politics!” You said devilishly as you sip on what was left of the white wine in your cup, and now that your thought process is blurred; Tom’s longing gaze puts you at dismay.

“Fuck!” Harry exploded, and you hear their mother hiss. “Fuck I hate politics, there’s no making it out alive!” he remarked as he drummed on the table cloth, drunken excitement brewing a new energy in the room.

You go on like this for hours until dinner party is dinner party no more. And while Dom, Nikki and all of Tom’s siblings have chosen to exit stage left, it’s 1am and you and Tom have yet to leave the scene.

Tom sets down your deck of debate cards in favour of a genuine moment.

“What are you doing these days, Y/N?” Tom’s not looking at you, he’s looking at your knee as he rubs circles on it. You want to look down there too, see what he finds so intriguing; but you decide against it in fear you might spontaneously combust. You don’t know if this moment’s supposed to be intimate or innocent and you’re not sure if you want to find out.

So you put up a wall.

“I should be asking you the same thing, Holland.” You say sarcastically. “What have you been doing these days? I haven’t seen you around.” Your eyebrows scrunched up together but you’ve got a big, idiot grin on your face that’s more than telling. Tom giggles at your facetiousness.

Tom scratches his head in mock thought. He never clocks out, always putting on a show. “I don’t know - uh.” You’re laughing before Tom has even told the punchline, ‘cause I guess anything’s funny when it’s said by the one you love.”I’m kind of -” He snatches an old Spiderman comic off the floor. “I’m kinda doing this acting thing at the moment. Playing, y’know, this guy.”

“Well I wish you better luck in the future.” Tom has stopped rubbing circles but instead places his two hands on your knees as you rock back in laughter.

“I’m serious, Y/N. What do you do now?”

“Um.” You suddenly forgot your entire career as Tom, with no shade of subtlety, stares right into your soul. “I got my degree. I write like little stories, y’know? Have you ever heard of folklore?”

Tom shook his head.

“They’re like these little, old beautiful myths. And I write them for a living. And if I’m lucky, they get published in The Times. If I’m even luckier, I get to work with my old best friend - ” You feel your world stop temporarily as you call Tom your ‘best friend’ and you pause for all of 0.3 seconds to register Tom’s reaction but his face doesn’t flinch. “-Writing a book with him and his dad.” And that makes Tom smile. So he doesn’t have to tell you he missed you, you just know.

‘Undivided appearance’ and ‘undivided attention’ don’t necessarily mean the same thing in Hollywood as they do in real life, and you learn that the hard way in your writing session.

Tom may have been sat right next to you, but he was miles away. He was doing press with Cosmo, who hadn’t stopped tagging him with blue hearts on his Instagram, Twitter and Snapchat stories, causing his phone to go off every two seconds. You looked at the phone and then at him who then got the hint and put it on silent. Then there was a knock on the door. Tom rushed to open it, expecting that Dom had sent down a food delivery to egg you on finishing this chapter. You rehashed his childhood like a million times - in fact, you were part of it - so when it came to writing the parts that hurt, where you took a more supporting role in his life, you needed his help. The fact is, the knock at the door had come from one of Tom’s men (Tom liked to call him Man In Black no. 3) who hadn’t said as much as a ‘hi’ before he made his announcement. “Tom, you’re on the line with Cosmo in 10.” The man stepped back and pulled out his walkie talkie, “Holland knows he’s on the line with Cosmo at 10.” And then continued to pace around the hallway.

Cosmo called as he said they would and you almost felt for. second like tom might enjoy an entertainment magazine’s company more than yours. The interviewer made glaring comments and passive flirts at Tom who just blushed and chuckled and sipped his water like the woman on the phone calling him ‘hot’ was just too much to handle. At one point, she says: “What must it be like to grow up that beautiful, Tom? With your hair falling into place like dominoes.” You’re not expecting it when Tom tilts the phone so you’re in view. “Well I’m with the most beautiful being on Earth right now so..” Tom looks at you as if to ask ‘is this okay?” and you know it’s too late for these kind of questions, because that moment is headline fodder, so you smile not to make him feel bad for opening Pandora’s box. But Tom is merciless and likes to rub salt in the wound. “This is Y/N! Y/N’s helping me write the book with my Dad! We go way back.” He covers his mouth as soon as he says it. “Shit! They’re not supposed to know about the book yet.”

This is the moment, you think, where you believe when they say your first love is the one you never let go.

And you can’t think of anything purer than the love you have for him.

Tom thinks being on land is boring. He likes being strung from chords 30 feet in the air, and drowning in despair through scenes of emotional turmoil. You want to tell him you’re an arrow from Cupid’s bow about to reach him, but you couldn’t recover from the splinters if Tom shut you down. After all, Tom was a gold rush. A treasure that everyone had discovered but nobody owned. How precious is a jewel that anybody could take home with them?

Tom had invited you to a visit to Brighton with him, a city near the coast, for some inspiration on writing his section of the book.

You accepted. And because you did, you found yourself at the beginning of the end, on Tom’s boat in Brighton. “We don’t have to talk about the book right now.” Tom throws a stack of blue tinted paper on the floor. His dyslexia meant that spelling and reading was so much easier when done on blue pages, and you could only guess that was the reason the body of water around you brought him so much peace. So when you saw that something might compromise your best boy’s happiness, you point it out. To give Tom a little bit of time to exit before things got ugly.

“Tom, I see someone in the bushes.”

“Yeah. It’s a pap.” Tom mumbled nonchalantly.

“They’re here to get pictures of me,” He turned to face you. “and you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, the fans ship us. Think we’d be a good couple after that Cosmo stunt. We would have been a good couple when we were like, 18.” He laughs.

“Huh, yeah.” You look down.

“The best one around.” And you can’t tell if he’s serious.

You rip off one of his blue sheets. “I’m coming. I got hit with inspo.” And you trail to a different section of the boat. A very obvious click of the camera from a shrub nearby coaxes your pen to write without a second thought, How is he so accustomed to this? Fake private moments, protected by sheer glass curtains?

You scrunched your paper, well his paper, into a ball.

Your mind had turned his life into folklore. You weren’t sure if that was crossing a line, so you just put the ball into your bag and hide it until he hits you with the spark again.

“Let me see it.” Tom says.

“No.”

“You ran off to write it and won’t let me see it?”

You held your bag at your hip in defence. “No, Tom. Drop it.”

Tom’s face drops a little bit, but then he reaches into his own bag and reveals a deck of your debate cards. “I know what will cheer you up, good ol’ Y/N.” He sets a card on the wooden table between you two.

“Do you believe in a higher power?”

You toyed with the pendant around your neck which revealed your faith. “Do you?”

“I don’t. But I believe in soulmates.”

You look to the left to really ponder on what Tom is saying, and a paparazzis captures another photo of you in the corner of your eye.

“And you don’t think there’s a higher power that manufactures our souls to make our soulmates?”

Tom feigns a scowl. “That’s ridiculous.”

You scoffed. “How very contrarian of you.”

“What the fuck does that mean.”

“It means you contradict yourself, Thomas.” You laugh as he holds his chest in fake hurt.

“Are you implying I’m anything less than perfect?”

“Never.”

Never. Because you didn’t believe that to be true.

“Good. Cause you’d have to be punished.” Tom picks you up and throws you in the water below before jumping in with you.

On your way home you stop at the yours and Tom’s writing booth, scavenging through your bag to drop off Tom’s notepad, some scrunched up blue and white papers you and Tom thought could still help you write his book. You’d made an addition to your love-hazed scribblings about Tom and reckon you’d die if he found it. You managed to throw the other in the water, excusing yourself with “It’s utterly awful.”, to which you and Tom agreed you wouldn’t throw any more paper in the ocean cause the poor fish already had it hard enough.

You and Tom had a session the next day. Tom was excited for the day, and you could tell because he’d given his phone to one of his big babysitters for the time he had you.

“I think that’s all of yours.” You and Tom made a business out of unscrunching your paper balls to see if they had any useful ideas. You were certain you reached the end of Tom’s. All of his notes had ‘T.H’ written on the back in big and were scribed on blue paper. When it came to your little ‘secret admirer’ notes you weren’t worried - you had an English degree and were quick to think on your feet and was ready to make something up when it came to opening it.

“No, this one’s mine.” He’s confident, so you let him have it. He goes to pick up your tea and then realises it’s nowhere near warm, and was the one you made for yourself when you crept in yesterday evening. Tom has a smile on his face, and then he doesn’t. Before he goes to read it aloud, his eyes tell you he’s reading it again and again and again. “At dinner parties, I’ll call you out on your contrarian shit, and the coastal towns we wondered round will never see a love as pure as it.”

The look on Tom’s face gives you the splinters. He tries to look at you but you know he can’t. You don’t blame him. You can’t look at him either. “I really thought this was a good friendship.”

You hum and nod your head in agreement, pull your lips into a thin straight line as streaks of tears abandon your eyes. This was worse than Tom rubbing salt in your wounds. He’s rubbing dirt in your painful fucking gashes and you are reminded of why this didn’t work before, why it will never be.

And you wouldn’t dare to dream about him anymore.

Masterlist

Upcoming Works

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tundrainafrica · 3 years

Note

Hello, here's a prompt request :)

Hanji and Levi as the main characters in the last show you watched/book you read/game you played.

Thank youu

Hange as Alexandra Trese and Levi as a bystander just coz

Fun fact about the warehouse scene in Trese: The comic book was way bloodier.

(I can't write graphic stuff though so I'd say this drabble is pretty mild haha)

A whole train of people just went missing. Then soon after, a whole squatter’s area was found empty.

It was only natural that Kuchel, his mother, would tell him to stay home that day, and for as long as they could.

Food though was getting scarce and the pantry was empty. His mother was ailing and the flea market by the pier was only a good five minute jeep ride from home anyway so Levi thought it worth the trip. He would be out just long enough to buy a week’s worth of food, then they could stay at home, he could care for his mother just until the danger subsided.

Danger he couldn’t even comprehend. What was there to comprehend other than people going missing? Other than bloodstains left behind. According to the reports at least.

When he exited the house, he allowed himself a good long minute to stare up at the sky. It was a few hours before noon, the sky was still a kind type of bright, the type that didn’t burn at first glance but it was still bright enough to remind him, there would be little to no chance of encountering danger.

He walked ahead, past other houses. He called for a jeep. Within minutes, just as estimated, he was in the flea market.

There was nothing much his mother could eat, given her failing health. By the time he had gone through the first stalls though, he had almost given up on seafood.

The sun was a little higher up in the sky. Humid, crowded Manila left him sweaty, stinky and just raring to get back home and back to the comforts of his air conditioned bedroom. His own duty remained a stronger source of motivation. He navigated through the crowds, willing himself to bite his tongue, cover his nose through the stench of the sun, the heat and the humidity that only made it all the worse. He willed himself to stare left then right, at the fishes, the clams priced at hundreds of pesos a kilo.

He stopped in front of one, notably cheaper than the rest.

“Two hundred pesos a kilo, fresh from Manila bay.”

Was anything even fresh in Manila bay? Some of them could have passed up as fresh anyway. Levi had developed an eye for it over time. He could tell from the eyes, the lack of bleeding that maybe they weren’t fresh.

“This one please.” Yet somehow, the person next to him had gone for the one with the fakest eyes, the almost rancid smell.

You got a spoiled one. He would have been nice enough to warn the person beside him. Before he knew it, she was gone, and before Levi could even recover, look back at the lady by the seafood stall, he started to see the stranger of a while ago as a little more than slightly strange.

“Excuse me, do you know her? She’s missing fifty pesos.”

The stranger was audacious, irritating.

Levi bolted after her. “Hey you forgot to fucking pay!” It turned out, it was easy to find her, she was the only one wearing particularly thick clothing, particularly black clothing in a sea of people.

She was easy to find, but she was moving faster, much faster than Levi could catch her. He had tripped up a few times, bumped into a few people, he spared a few apologies. Although he was sure it had taken less than a few seconds to exchange necessary pleasantries, he had lost her.

The other side of the flea market opened up to empty space, surprisingly empty space but an abandoned warehouse at the center. One he wouldn’t have dared to even visit. If he hadn’t noticed the way the door had slammed. A split second movement but enough to peak his interest.

The crash of crates. Almost unrecognizable voices. Screams? A few seconds ago, maybe he had intended to enter to the front door. He had some regard for his own life so he opted out of it.

Still, he was just a little interested. He ran towards the end of the warehouse, a smaller window towards the end had him tempted. He pressed his back on the wall and looked behind him, his vision wide enough to notice the person clad in black, the same brunette from the flea market.

Fish in hand, knife in the other? Alone in a room full of burly men, some of them looked more like creatures than men. Surprisingly, the brunette seemed unfazed.

Then everything happened quickly, she pounced on one of the men, knife in hand, a knife that hovered towards his face for a split second. Then it fell quickly, blood splattered

Levi could only guess where it went in that moment, but he was more than sure he had guessed correctly. That split second moment after all, had ended up embedded in his mind. Clear enough to have him instinctively cupping a hand to his mouth, running towards the entrance again.

What the fuck. He was fine with blood, he was sure of that. He’d seen more than enough blood in a lifetime, more than enough medicine having dealt with his mom.

Violence when he didn’t expect it, unnecessary bloodshed, extraction of seemingly completely healthy body parts though made his stomach turn then. He leaned back on the wall and took a deep breath. He had to leave soon. She might come after him too.

He turned on his heel, ready to run. He never did get to bolt, the door slammed behind him, a rude interruption of his own thoughs. Instinctively, he looked back to find the brunette staring right at her palm, and the contents had his stomach turning again.

Did she really do it?

Her eyes were wide, her lips, curled up to a grin, as if the contents in her hand were the most interesting in the world to her.

Maybe they were. Maybe she was a little crazy.

And Levi saw that as more reason to run. Even before he could turn on his heel once again, she had looked up at him, her eyes as fixated as a second ago, except on him.

“Did you see that?” She asked. As quickly as that, her hazel eyes had become a little more sane looking.

“See what?” He asked.

“That.”

“You owe the woman at the stall fifteen pesos,” Levi said, as if digressing would be enough to save his life.

“Oh, really? I do?” And somehow, she seemed a little nicer, a stark contrast from the axe crazy demeanor of a while ago. “Thanks for telling me, I’ll go back and pay now." She paused and turned her back towards him. "You should go back, it’s dangerous here.”

“Is it?” Levi asked. As far as he knew, she was the most dangerous one there.

“Here, you can stick to me,” she said. She pocketed the bloodied contents, she had been studying too eagerly only a minute ago.

“Stick to you? Really?”

She widened her eyes in confusion. “Why?”

As if she didn’t beat up a group of men. As if she didn’t take out a room full of burly, almost inhuman men.

Levi stayed a good distance away, pressing his back against the wall. “Didn't you just gouge someone’s eyes out back in the warehouse?”

#levihan #trese #drabble

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shadowhuntertrash · 4 years

Text

Kitty

Most likely to be jealous + Most likely to be burn dinner

For @thomaslightwood

Kit wasn’t an overly jealous person in the slightest. He was normally very chill about the fact that many people thought his boyfriend was attractive and constantly felt the need to flirt with him. Most of the time it didn’t bother him at all.

This was not most of the time. He had already been having a bad day and all he wanted to do was go out and have a nice relaxing walk with his boyfriend, but there were these two girls who simply would not. stop. flirting.

Ty was paying them little attention, their flirty comments going right over his head. Kit had made it blatantly obvious without saying the words that they were dating. His arm was around Ty’s waist, his eyes glaring at the girls as they giggled to themselves as Ty talked about the squirrels.

Ty’s arm was wrapped around Kit’s waist as well but Kit was convinced the girls were ignoring it on purpose.

The blonde one, Kahla, was twirling a strand of hair around her finger, giggling quietly. Kit thought if she was anymore obvious she’d have kissed him. Her friend Lola was giggling, leaning heavily into Ty’s side. Kit ground his teeth and ignored it to the best of his ability.

Who did these girls think they were anyway? What made them feel as if they could ignore the fact that Ty was very obviously with a boy. “Do you want to get out of here? I’m sure your friend wouldn’t mind.” Kahla said, batting her eyelashes. Lola pouted slightly, glaring at her friend.

Ty furrowed his eyebrows. “No thanks.” Lola giggled obnoxiously again. “You know, people are going to get the wrong idea if you stand with your friends like that.” She said looking pointedly at their arms, which were still wrapped tightly around each other. Kit threw her a deadly glare but Ty beat him to correcting them. “What makes you think that’s the wrong idea?” Ty said, annoyance starting to creep in his voice. He didn’t get annoyed often but Kit was glad to hear that this was one of those times.

Kahla raised an eyebrow. “Come on, obviously you’re not gay.” She threw Kit a disgusted look. “I don’t know why you’re hanging out with that one though, even if you were gay you deserve much more than him.” Kit felt a pang of hurt resonate in his chest but it was quickly drowned out by anger. He took a step forward but Ty held his arm tightly.

“I don’t appreciate what you’re insinuating but since you are both too dumb to get it through your thick heads, we are very much dating so if you could leave, it would be greatly appreciated.” Kit said through gritted teeth. Ty ran a calming hand over his side and he released some of the tension that was building up quickly.

The girls looked at each other, both looking uncomfortable now. Lola laughing awkwardly. “He’s kidding right?” She asked Ty who shook his head with a raised eyebrow. “No he isn’t.” The girls shared a look and then mumbled something along the lines of ‘work’ and ‘training’ before spinning around and walking away quickly.

Kit watched them leave, eyes narrowed and mouth set in a firm line. Ty reached up and gently turned his face so he was looking at Ty who was smiling calmly at him. “It’s okay.” He whispered, running his thumb over Kit’s cheek, something that Ty knew was immensely calming to Kit.

Kit let out a quiet sigh and closed his eyes, eyebrows furrowed. He was quite embarrassed. He hated when Ty saw him this way, hated Ty seeing any weakness and he knew jealousy was a big weakness.

He felt warm lips on his own and sighed a second time. He was immensely lucky to have Ty as a boyfriend. Someone who knew him inside and out, someone who knew how to calm him down when he got worked up. Someone who could snap him out of his dark thoughts.

Ty pulled away slowly and rested his forehead on Kit’s, his eyes searching Kit’s face. “Are you okay?” He asked quietly. Kit took a deep breath and nodded slowly, a false smile making its way on his face. Ty smiled back and intertwined their fingers, pulling back so they could keep walking.

Kit couldn’t stop thinking about the girls words, so the rest of the walk was less than enjoyable. Was he not good enough for Ty? Sure he had thought that plenty of times, Ty really did deserve more but Jem had always told him that was just those mean voices in his head. If they thought that too it obviously wasn’t just him.

He needed to do more. He needed to prove to Ty that he was worth it. He needed to show that he did deserve Ty, he was lost on how to though, since he was steadily growing more unsure as to if he truly did deserve Ty.

After a lot of debating he decided he would make him dinner for starters. He could do that, Tessa and Jem had shown him how to plenty of times. Kit perked up for the rest of the walk and Ty’s concerned expression relaxed slightly.

When they got back to the Institute Ty excused himself to go take a shower and read a little. He always needed alone time after too much socializing and the girls had made him uncomfortable so he understandably wanted some quiet time to read.

Kit used it as time to get everything ready. He decided to make a casserole. Ty loved Julian’s green bean casserole so Kit thought he would attempt to make some. Everything had been going well until Kit turned his music on too loud and missed the beep from the oven that let him know it was done.

He checked it ten minutes later, wondering why it was taking so long, to find it completely burnt. It was past edible and Kit took it out cursing loudly as he burnt his hand on the hot metal. Kit stared at his hand for a second before he turned back towards the burnt food.

He couldn’t even make simple food. He couldn’t do a basic task like cooking. He was so utterly unworthy of Ty and he knew it. He knew in the back of his mind that he was blowing things out of proportion but he couldn’t help the intrusive thoughts that were bubbling up.

The door to the kitchen opened and Ty and Dru’s laughter filled the air. Kit felt his cheeks grow hot from embarrassment. He couldn’t bring himself to look anywhere but the stupid, burnt, unedible ‘food’ in front of him. The laughter died off and Ty called his name in a tentative voice, Kit’s eyes were burning and he just grew angrier at himself.

He heard Dru whisper something to Ty before she turned around and left the room, Ty walked slowly towards Kit. “Kit?” He asked quietly, Kit slowly lifted his eyes to meet Ty’s concerned gray ones. “I burnt it.” Kit whispered slowly, eyes drifting back to the casserole. Ty looked between Kit and the casserole confused. “Kit, it’s okay. It’s just food.” Kit shook his head, his eyes burning worse now.

“It wasn’t just food. It was my proof that I really did deserve you but I burnt it.” He turned to Ty suddenly hysterical, the tears flowing freely now. He gave a slightly hysterical laugh and gestured wildly at the burnt food in front of him. “I burnt it.” He said quietly, the loudness leaving his voice as quickly as it had come.

Ty frowned and walked over to Kit who had cold tears running down his face. “Kit what are you talking about?” He asked quietly, reaching a tentative hand out until it rested on his shoulder blade.

Kit frowned again staring at the counter. “You deserve so much more than me Ty.” He whispered, afraid Ty would agree with him and simply leave him there. Ty made a distressed noise and Kit looked up quickly to see what had upset Ty. “Christopher, it doesn’t matter what I deserve or what you deserve. We both deserve happiness and you make me happier than anyone ever has.” Ty said, his hand going to the side of Kit’s head so he couldn’t turn away again.

Kit took that into consideration. Ty did deserve to be happy, he deserved the world but did Kit truly make him that happy? Ty sighed and leaned in, kissing Kit’s cheek gently. “You make me so happy Kit, you know that right?” Kit nodded slowly, Ty told him that quite often but he never truly believed it.

Kit felt like he could finally breathe, he knew deep down that Ty really did like him and that he did made Ty happy. If he didn't, Ty wouldn’t be here, Julian and the rest of the Blackthorn’s would make it obvious as well.

Kit let out a relieved sigh and Ty smiled at him, glad he had gotten through to him, and grabbed his hand gently. Kit remembered with a start as he felt the burning pain return to his hand that he had burned it badly.

He gave a slight gasp and quickly took it out of Ty’s grasp. Ty frowned before looking down, his eyes widening comically as he took in Kit’s red, burnt hand. “Kit! What happened?” He asked, quickly taking his stele out of his pocket. Kit shrugged, frowning at his hand.

“I forgot, I burned it on the metal when I got that out.” He said gesturing in the vague vicinity of the food. Ty rolled his eyes mumbling “Idiot.” under his breath. Kit laughed a little, glad Ty had once again made him feel better.

When Ty finished he brought Kit’s palm to his lips and kissed it gently. Kit blushed and gave him a shy smile. Ty grabbed his hand again, this time tugging softly, Kit followed automatically. “I think we should go to get tacos. The taco truck you like so much is at the beach.” Ty said, swinging their hands, liking the steady rhythm of it.

Kit smiled and nodded, wondering how the hell he had been so lucky to have Ty. “I love tacos.”

#kit carstairs #kit rook #kit herondale #kit and ty #ty blackthorn #kit x ty #dru blackthorn #ask answered

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horrorslashergirl · 4 years

Note

Chromeskull becoming infatuated with the reader so he stalks her and leaves special gifts on her doorsteps. 😊

Your girl here has a habit of getting writing ideas when buying lace lingerie and high brand perfume. Yes, because I bask into a little luxury...and Chromeskull.

Here you have a piece of some big-bad-killer-skull-daddy .

Chromeskull x Reader- Dating tips from Chromeskull

You attracted weirdos, that was your own opinion about yourself and you had a huge list of examples to attest to this said theory.

First, it was a guy in high-school who used to have a stash of playboy magazines. Nothing weird, only that he used to keep it in his backpack all the time with him. You even heard he masturbated in the school toilet. Gross. Just no.

Then there was a guy named Darwin that gave you love letters, only said love letters were always theories about how you resembled cartoon characters, not to mention the guy had a habit of spitting all the time when he talked.

Last, now in college, a pervert who always smelled of cheese and was a vegan. No, you weren't judgemental, but he always eats with his hands and tried to show his theories about eating meat is evil down your throat. You had enough to say the last.

Dating has never been your top game and being in college, you hoped you would find a decent guy, but your expectations weren't meet. Guys who were decent enough always scrambled away once they found out you weren't a dizzy bimbo who only giggled at every comment they made.

This is how you ended up on a Friday night at home, drinking some wine and watching serial killers documentaries, while your classmates were probably at a party, snorting cocaine and fucking into dirty bathroom stalls.

Yeah...Not exactly something you would look forward too.

Now, you weren't a prude, but giving head to a guy in a place that had probably STD all over the walls wasn't exactly appealing to say the last.

If only you could find a decent guy that would, at last, have the decency to wash before going on a date and who wouldn't choke on his own spit when laughing.

You were ready to get yourself a refill of wine when your doorbell rang, making you furrow your brows in confusion.

You sure weren't expecting anyone, but knowing some of your friends they sure would stumble to your house when drunk because they couldn't find their cellphones or keys.

Putting on your fluffy bunny slippers, you marched up to the front door and looked through the hole to see who it was. You learned from murderous documentaries that you shouldn't open the door at night if you don't know who it is.

None.

So, you opened it, looking from left to right to see if you could spot anyone, but no such luck. Probably some children messing around.

You were ready to close the door when your eyes looked down to see a white envelope on the welcome matt. Crouching down you grasped it and looked one more time left to right, hoping to spot the person who left it.

The silence of the night and chilly September night made you shiver a little, so you moved back inside to the couch and opened the envelope to see it was a letter, so you started reading it:

My dear little piggy,

Ever since the first time I meet you, I must say I always wondered how you would look in red, dripping down your body, your kissable lips into an 'o' shape, your nails dragging down my back as your flesh envelopes my knife.

Aren't you scared, so alone?

Your eyes widened at the twisted words on the white sheet, and the fact that the only sign at the bottom of the letter was a scribbled skull made it all the more unnerving.

That's the moment when you felt like you were being watched, your paranoid mind making you feel anxious.

If only you looked out the window you would see the ominous and out of the scenario black Bentley on the other side of the road.

In the past three months, things haven't been any decreasing either, because from twisted letters it all went to gifts if you could even call them that. Yes, they were gifts, but what made them unsettling was how the coincidence went.

You went out shopping one day and saw your favorite perfume, but didn't have the money to buy it. Imagine the surprise that after two days a velvet pink box sat in front of your door with the expensive perfume.

Then one time you saw a beautiful dress from Chanel that you were oh so tempted to buy, but rent and food were more important, then later that night you received it and it was your size. That was just disturbing.

This continued for months and from anxious to went to curious and intrigued. It was insane, but none in your life put so much thought in spoiling you, despite not knowing who this person is.

To put it simply you were basked into luxurious gifts and cards for shopping.

You felt special.

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

It came to no surprise that Chromeskull was always chasing piggies, but this time it was you that he was chasing after; not the usual slaughtering piggy way, but more like spoiling a little kitten who was you.

It was pretty comic to see a 40-year-old man chasing after a girl that has half his age, but what can you say? Jesse has always liked them young and fresh, no wonder he gave off big-bad-killer-daddy vibes.

He loved to see your appreciation for his gifts and attention towards you, despite it not being direct, but his self-consciousness after he lost his face made it almost impossible to get woman willingly.

Paying piggies to suck him off didn't count.

He wanted someone who was willing to go full length into a relationship with him, someone who he could have a good time, from conversations to mind-blowing sex.

That's why he chose you.

It all started with an unpredictable meeting.

Yes, you have meet Jesse, but you didn't know it.

How?

You were shopping and because you were in such a hurry to catch the bus, you run into him while you looked down at your phone, your head meeting his chest.

The way you looked up at him at that time almost made him want to stop you. Your wide eyes, not of fear or disgust, maybe it was surprising because he knew very well how a displeased face looks like, your pouty lips and slightly pink cheeks of embarrassment were so appealing.

"I-I'm so sorry, sir!"

That was the only thing you said before sprinting away and that was also the moment when he knew he wanted you and what Jesse Cromeans wants, he gets.

In the past months, he made sure you weren't lacking in anything and he was even more so pleased when you accepted all the gifts, seeing you wear the clothes he gave you made him feel like he owned you.

Normally, Jesse was the ever so most confident person you could meet, but now he felt like his shy teenage self, looking at you from a few feet away as you were grocery shopping.

He wanted to approach you. Badly, but how could he? His face and his muteness didn't help.

You were at the liquor part, looking over bottles with furrowed brows, not knowing what to get, until a pale hand gripped a bottle of expensive scotch from the top shelf, the forearms fully tattooed.

You looked behind you to see a tall and bald man, dressed in all black, the fully tattooed forearms been on display from how his sleeves were rolled up.

'This one is the finest scotch from here if you want to drink something more refined.' an electronic voice spoke from his phone that he held in the other hand.

You were to say so surprisedly by this man's approach.

"Oh...You're mute? I know ASL, so there's no need to type on the phone if it's easier for you." you quickly said, making the man grin.

Did you know ASL? How could he miss that? You were full of surprises.

'That's good. I hate to use the electronic reader all the time.' he signed, his grin never leaving his scarred lips.

'I'm Jesse.' he signed and you introduced yourself, shaking his bigger hand.

"I would love to try this scotch, but donating my kidney for glass doesn't sound too appealing." you said with a dry chuckle.

Dark sense of humor. Good. Check.

'How about I buy it and you go out on a date with me? Sounds like a deal?' he signed and you arched an eyebrow, a lop-sided smile on your face.

That was the moment Jesse felt nervous, despite not showing. He could already imagine you laughing at him, for thinking that a cute girl like you would go out with someone like him.

"Sure."

What? His brown eye widened a little and you giggled at his shocked expression.

"You don't have to buy me a 2,500$ bottle of scotch to go on a date with me." you said, making him silently chuckle.

'Do you want a ride?' he asked, signing and you grinned, nodding.

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

Yes, that was the start of an interesting relationship. At first, it had ups and downs because of the age-gap and the hateful comments, that made Jesse want to murder all the people that even dared to question his relationship with you.

Imagine the surprise when one time you punched one guy for calling Jesse 'old-sugar-daddy' and you 'nasty-gold-digger'.

That was another aspect of you that he learned that you had and started to love it a lot; you were a feisty little thing and protective of him.

You always took care of his ego, assuring him that he was perfect just how he is and it made Jesse's heart swell with things he almost forgot existed.

To put it simply, you completed each other....In all ways.

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

Your hair was splayed in a mess on the black silk pillows, one hand fisting the bedsheets and the other rubbing the bald scalp of your lover who had your red lace panties pulled aside and his tongue wiggling inside your heat, making your toes curl.

"Fuck.......Jesse......I-If you don't stop...I-I'm gonna squirt." you breathed out, chest heaving and nipples hard from all the pleasure that was jolting up your spine.

The man between your legs stopped, giving your clit a flick with his tongue, his body moving up on top of you, scarred lips meeting plush ones, kissing with you such vigor you sometimes couldn't keep up.

He broke the kiss, looking down at you, so perfect on his bed.

'I'm going to wreck your world.' he signed with a dark smirk and you couldn't help but smile, your hand coming to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing over his scars.

"Please do, Chromeskull." you whispered, looking up at him from under your eyelashes.

Jesse grinned, pulling you into another passionate kiss, taking your breath away.

#Laid to rest 2009 #Chromeskull: Laid to rest 2 #Chromeskull #Jesse Cromeans #chromeskull x reader #jesse cromeans x reader #slasher x reader #horror movies #SkullDaddy can throw me in a coffin any day he wants

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snipsnsnailsnwerewolftales · 4 years

Text

Stay (Part 1)

A/N: This is something that came to mind with a playlist I have of random Ed Sheeran songs, I hope you guys like it.

Thank you to @jazziwritesthings, @xteenwolfwritingsx, @mymonandsymon, @weeabooper and @msmischief101 for looking it over for me.

I do not own Teen Wolf or it’s characters. Sadly.

(Nor do I own any of the songs in the playlist that inspired this story by Ed Sheeran. All credit where credit is due.)

Word Count: 2,200

Warnings: None that I know of. Mild swearing? It’s really just fluffy.

When Derek comes across a familiar scent at a diner late one night, it leads to the most unexpected revelation in his years in Beacon Hills: His mate. (Aka: Wherein I am a sucker for a good mates story and my brain decided to write one.)

Series Masterlist

Xxx

Sitting at the local diner, Derek focused on his hand as it clutched and unclutched his keys against the table top, occupying his time. To his right sat Scott, and his left, Stiles, and in the center, a large awkward silence between the three.

Smirking, Derek couldn’t help the grin when Stiles scrambled away from the table as their order number was called. He had only seen Stiles move that fast a few times, and it never failed to be amusing.

Clearing his throat, Derek shifted in his seat, sitting up taller, tugging his leather jacket collar for good measure. Scott mumbled something about drinks, and after a second of hesitation disappeared off to some unknown corner supposedly getting them all a glass of something.

Someone walked over to the ancient juke box on the opposite side of the restaurant, and Derek wanted to groan. He had been listening for footsteps going that way all night so that he could come up with some diversion to keep whoever it was from changing it off of his selection. He was sure Stiles and Scott probably thought he had some secret vendetta for all things music, and that was fine. So long as nobody messed with his choice of song.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t an awful choice, and when Derek turned to see who else in this God forsaken town seems to have a decent taste in music aside from himself, Stiles obstructed his view by sliding into his seat with three steaming hot plates, mumbling a “Hot, hot, hot! Very hot!” And Scott obscured him from getting a decent scent so he could at least maybe seek them out later when he plopped three milkshakes down on the table, the combo of food and drink masking any hope at a scent.

Pushing his chair back slightly, and leaning back away from the tsunami of smells, he felt everything go on high alert when one clear smell hit him like a tidal wave. “Vanilla….”

“Well, I was gonna take the vanilla, but fine, by all means, take it, just don’t go all sourwolf on me.”

Derek quickly shot Stiles a glare before turning back to the jukebox to see no one, but the overwhelming scent of fresh vanilla, like fresh cookies, took over all his senses. It made his burger taste like dirt.

Finally pushing away from the table, he followed the scent that definitely got stronger near the jukebox, and followed it in a loop, past an empty table, and finally back to his own table, noticing a new person standing and talking to Scott and Stiles.

A low growl rumbled out of his chest before he could catch it, but it didn’t seem to startle her a bit. Walking a little bit closer he asked a bit harshly, “Who are you?” Really, he just wanted to get close enough to see if she really was the source of the smell, but the scent was forgotten when he heard her speak.

“I’m Y/N, Scott and Stiles’ TA in English this year.”

No wonder the smell had seemed so familiar. He knew her. They grew up together.

She held out a hand for him to shake, and it took a minute for him to zone back in after her voice had caused him to go into some sort of trance.

Shaking his head gently to free the cobwebs, he offered his hand in return, and they both took a sharp inhale on the contact, sparks flying up and down their skin.

Realization dawned on him the same time she made wide eyes and seemed to put it together herself.

Eyes glowing red, Derek pulled her gently closer to him, faintly registering Stiles and Scott laughing nervously and flailing to stand up and block out people’s view of his very obviously not human eyes as they settled on her very obviously completely human eyes.

Until their yellow glow gave away her secret. Derek smirked. Years of time together played on warp speed in his mind.

Blinking the red away, he couldn’t help but smile as she stood there still doe eyed.

“Oh my God, I’m the mate of a freaking Alpha werewolf,” she let out quietly, almost under her breath.

“Holy shit,” Stiles mumbled, hand coming over his mouth as he plopped unceremoniously back into his chair, the momentum making it scrap against the tiles a few inches with an ugly sound.

“Just one. Can you please not date just one of our teachers, Derek? Is that too much to ask?” Scott was unabashedly announcing for the whole restaurant to hear. Granted it was mostly empty by now, and the song was coming to an end, leaving them in silence.

“That’s up to Y/N,” Derek said, still holding her hand. “If she agrees to go on a date, that’s not my fault. And if she agrees to be my mate, well then I am off the market after that.”

“For the love of God, please just say yes,” Stiles implored her. “Maybe he will finally be more tolerable when it’s all said and done.”

Derek reached out and whacked the back of Stiles’ head gently, before raising an eyebrow in question as she gave his hand a squeeze.

“Hey! You took my line!” She cried in protest with a small smile.

“What?” Stiles looked between the two of them before she lightly whacked the side of his arm. “Hey! Oh. I get it now. Ha ha. Actually, now, I hate this idea. I take it back. Release one another! It’s easy. See?” Stiles tried to pull their hands apart and it was quite comical to watch. After realizing nothing would change, he sat down with a huff, cradling his face in his hands and saying in a mock broken tone, “Why me?”

Xxx

Staring into the flashing jukebox in the corner of the dive restaurant that had haunted Beacon Hills longer than any monster, you smiled lightly at the selection to choose from.

It was probably your subconscious, remembering things long forgotten, hidden under song titles that concealed the memories, but you could have sworn you kept getting wafts of nutmeg and leather, something that was so intrinsically….. him.

You smiled a bit wider at memories that began to play for only you, seeming to change with the flashing of the lights on the machine, pulsing to your song selection.

Cut grass in the summer, and the smell it brought.

Soaking wet in the rain, darting into any alcove nearby and standing close together under his jacket he held high like an umbrella.

Tripping on the slick, freshly cut grass, and laughing till your sides hurt and grass stains painted your clothes and skin, like tattoos of proof from a summer day.

Him laughing at you as he stared down where you fell, and his wide eyes beside you when you took his hand outstretched to help and instead yanked him down to join you.

The bubble of laughter that soon left him despite himself, as your own giggle betrayed you, and soon you both were snickering on the grass, letting the rain paint your skin with tracks as it continued to fall lightly.

You’re brought out of your thoughts by a familiar voice, looking up from your seat back at your table to see Stiles at the counter balancing three trays loaded with food. You snickered at the little balancing act he pulled trying to keep the contents on the trays and not falling to the floor. Sitting up straight as the smell came your way again, it was so strong, it was as if he were just a few tables over.

Looking to the side, you didn’t see him, however you saw Stiles setting down the trays of food at a table across the restaurant, Scott coming from the opposite direction, arms laden with drinks, and whoever sat in the third seat at their table obscured from your view by Stiles’ body as he distributed the food, lightly bopping to the beat of the song, and making you smile.

Deciding to go over and say hi, you got up, walking around your table, walking past the counter and grabbing the bag of fries the waiter was trying to wave Stiles down for. You shook your head. How Stilinski forgot fries, you didn’t know. As you walked up to their table, it was just the two of them, their mysterious third party missing, but the smell you had noticed earlier strongest in the vacant seat. It couldn’t be who you thought, they hadn’t lived here in years, but you couldn’t ignore the scent as you stood talking to Scott and Stiles.

As Stiles thanked you for the fries, you felt a wave of the smell wash over you, causing you to turn and face the supposed source, and your breath caught in your throat at the sight of an older face, but those same eyes you had been thinking about not minutes before.

He didn’t seem to recognize you, and for some reason that amused you. He had a suspicious glint in his eyes, but that was the extent of it.

A low growl rumbled out of his chest before he could catch it, but it didn’t startle you a bit. In fact it surprised you at the deep stirring it caused in your gut.

Walking a little bit closer he asked a bit harshly, “Who are you?”

Despite his puffed up chest and seemingly harsh words, you noticed him take a deep breath through his nose, taking in your scent he used to always say smelled like cookies, vanilla and cinnamon, but the breath stopped abruptly when you answered him.

“I’m Y/N, Scott and Stiles’ TA in English this year.”

Realization seemed to hit him, the glint in his eyes sparking to life with memory, and he took an easy and free deep breath, finally recognizing the scent. If you blinked, you’d miss it, but the faintest of smiles was on his face.

You held out a hand for him to shake, and it took a minute for him to zone back in after seeming to go into some sort of trance.

Shaking his head gently to free the cobwebs, he offered his hand in return, and you both took a sharp inhale on the contact, sparks flying up and down your skin.

Realization dawned on him the same time you made wide eyes and seemed to put it together yourself.

Eyes glowing red, Derek pulled you gently closer to him, and you faintly registered Stiles and Scott laughing nervously and flailing to stand up and block out people’s view of his very obviously not human eyes as they settled on your supposedly very obviously completely human eyes.

Until their yellow glow gave away your secret. Derek smirked. Cut grass, rain, grass stains and mud, hiding out in secret places and sharing secrets over years and years, laughing until your sides hurt. All of it hit you at once, and it made something take flight in your stomach, beating its wings to get out.

Blinking the red away, he couldn’t help but smile as you stood there still doe eyed.

“Oh my God, I’m the mate of a freaking Alpha werewolf,” you let out quietly, almost under your breath.

“Holy shit,” Stiles mumbled, hand coming over his mouth as he plopped unceremoniously back into his chair, the momentum making it scrape against the tiles a few inches with an ugly sound.

“That’s up to Y/N,” Derek said, still holding your hand. “If she agrees to go on a date, that’s not my fault. And if she agrees to be my mate, well then I am off the market after that.” Something in what he said made you so indescribably happy, but also insanely mad at the thought of him ever being on the market. You swallowed the growl you felt building back down.

“For the love of God, please just say yes,” Stiles implored you. “Maybe he will finally be more tolerable when it’s all said and done.” Glancing at Stiles as he spoke, you looked back to Derek with a smirk.

Derek reached out and whacked the back of Stiles’ head gently, before raising an eyebrow in question as you gave his hand a squeeze.

“Hey! You took my line!” You cried in protest with a small smile.

“What?” Stiles looked between the two of you before you lightly whacked the side of his arm. “Hey! Oh. I get it now. Ha ha. Actually, now, I hate this idea. I take it back. Release one another! It’s easy. See?” Stiles tried to pull your hands apart and it was quite comical to watch. After realizing nothing would change, he sat down with a huff, cradling his face in his hands and saying in a mock broken tone, “Why me?”

Xxx

Tags: @mayahart02 @palaiasaurus64 @shydinosaurcandy @lucyqueenofthestars @c-breanne1999 @l4life @ethereallysimple What’s this?

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rhosyn-du · 3 years

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Never make a mess when a total catastrophe will do - Chapter Two

Pairings: Jimon, past Clace, background Clizzy, a bunch of other minor background pairings Rating: Explicit Art: @cor321 Beta: @all-thestories-aretrue Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, fake dating, oh my god they were roommates, friends with benefits, idiots to lovers, pining, miscommunication, holidays, drinking games, mistletoe, symbolically significant Oreos, domestic fluff, brief mention of past character death, Jace’s self-worth issues deserve their own tag Summary: What do you do when you find out your sister is not only dating your ex and love-of-your-high-school-life but is also bringing her home for Christmas? Bring your annoying, hot, annoyingly-hot roommate as your fake boyfriend to show them you're totally fine with it, obviously! There's no possible way this could backfire. Link: AO3 , Tumblr Master Post

Chapter Two

They didn’t talk more about it later. Jace barely saw Simon at all over the following couple weeks, in fact. It’s not that he was intentionally avoiding Simon, but they both had final exams to study for, and Simon was wrapped up in guitar ensemble rehearsals for the winter concert on top of that. If Jace had spent a little more of his study time in the library than was strictly necessary and that just happened to prevent any further discussions of dispays of physical affection and practice dates, that was entirely beside the point.

What Jace hadn’t counted on was how unprepared he’d feel pulling up outside the Queen Anne style townhouse he’d called home for most of his childhood. He suddenly wished he’d let Simon talk him into driving together and using the drive as a last minute planning session, even if it meant they’d need to coordinate their trip back to Boston. As much as he’d been avoiding talking about their plan, it really only occurred to Jace on the drive how much he wished they actually had, you know, a plan.

“Wow,” Simon said, hopping out of the hand-painted van he’d parked right behind Jace’s car. “Is that an actual turret?”

“Yup, gotta love those late 19th century architectural fads,” Jace answered as he pulled his suitcase out of the trunk. “The house belonged to Maryse’s grandparents, and I’ve never been able to tell how much she actually likes the style and how much is just childhood nostalgia, but she hasn’t even changed much of the interior except for renovations and repairs.”

“I have a hard time imagining growing up in a place like this,” Simon said as he joined Jace with his own suitcase in hand. “And it’s not like my mom’s house is tiny or anything, but this is just...” He waved a hand vaguely at the house. “A lot.”

He didn’t ask why Jace was sharing a tiny apartment furnished entirely secondhand if his family lived in a house like this, and Jace didn’t offer an explanation.

“You don’t need to be nervous,” Jace said, even though there was plenty to be nervous about. “I promise the house doesn’t bite.”

“Yeah, less worried about the house than the people in it,” Simon told him.

“I thought you were, like, the parent whisperer,” Jace teased. “Isn’t that why you offered to come with me? Because you make a great boyfriend? Trust me, as long as Alec and Izzy think you make me happy, they’ll love you, and you know more about comics than anyone I’ve ever met, so Max will love you regardless.”

“Okay,” Simon said, releasing a heavy breath. “Okay, thanks. You’re right, I just got a little intimidated by the house, but this is all going to be fine.”

“Maryse is probably going to hate you, though,” Jace continued, keeping his face carefully deadpan. “She hates everyone we bring home. It’s like a rite of passage. But you’re great with parents, so I’m sure you’ll at least avoid intentional food poisoning.”

Simon stared at him in horror, and Jace couldn’t keep a hit of a smile from breaking through.

“I hate you,” Simon told him.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Jace said, “I’m pretty sure the food poisoning wasn’t actually intentional.”

“Wait, there was actual food poisoning?”

“Come on,” Jace said, heading toward the door. “I want to get inside before we freeze to death.”

“You are such a dick sometimes,” Simon muttered, catching up to him.

Then, he slipped his free hand into Jace’s like it was a totally normal thing to do, and Jace had to catch himself from tripping over the steps.

“Careful,” Simon said, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “I’m not going to make a very good impression on your family if you fall and break your neck before we even get inside.”

And there was just nothing to say to that, to how uncomfortable it wasn’t to have Simon’s hand in his like this, to the way it made him want. So Jace simply rolled his eyes and pushed open the front door, letting the scent of home wrap around him like a warm blanket.

“Okay,” Simon said quietly as he surveyed the entryway, complete with antique chandelier. “Feeling a little intimidated again.” And it was so easy for Jace to just give his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Hey, you made it,” a warm voice greeted them. “With as bad as traffic has been, we thought you’d be another hour at least.”

“Hey, man,” Jace said, dropping Simon’s hand so he could pull his brother into a hug. “People must be staying home for the holidays this year, because we barely hit any traffic at all.” He glanced around. “Where is everyone?”

“Iz should be here any minute, Max is holed up in his room playing video games with his friends, and Magnus is helping Mom with some last-minute grocery shopping for dinner tomorrow.” Alec held out a hand to Simon. “I’m Alec, since Jace apparently can’t be bothered to make introductions like a civilized person.”

“It’s okay,” Simon said, giving his hand a quick shake, “I gave up on the idea of Jace being civilized the first time I saw him eat pizza that had been sitting out on the counter for three days.”

“That was your pizza,” Jace pointed out.

“Yeah,” Simon said, “which I was going to throw away because I forgot about it for three days.”

“On the subject of uncivilized,” Jace said, turning back to Alec, who was looking just a little too pleased, “you really sent Magnus shopping with Maryse? Buddy, if you decided you don’t want to marry the guy, just break it off with him. You don’t have to throw him to the wolves like that.”

Alec’s tiny smile became a little less tiny and a whole lot softer. “Magnus and Mom have actually been getting along lately. She wanted his opinion on wine pairings, so they went to the store and left me here so I can pull the bread out of the oven when it’s done. It’s very weird, but also nice.”

“That does sound very weird,” Jace told him, “but I’m glad things are working out and Maryse has found some level of chill somewhere.”

“Hopefully that means I won’t get poisoned,” Simon said.

Alec snorted. “If you want to avoid it, you should probably avoid mentioning you know about that. Or any other embarrassing family stories Jace might have shared with you.”

“And don’t eat anything Izzy hands you,” Jace added. “Anything she cooks probably won’t kill you, but the taste will make you wish you were dead.”

“So, I should just fast while I’m here,” Simon said. “Good to know.”

Jace led Simon upstairs to drop off their bags while Alec checked on the bread.

“Just toss your bag anywhere,” Jace said, opening the door to his old room. “We can argue over who gets which side of the dresser later.”

“Sure,” Simon said cheerfully, “as long as we can be civil deciding who gets which side of the bed.” He stopped just inside the doorway. “Wow, okay. The apparently very small bed.”

And this really was something that should have occurred to him, Jace realized. It wasn’t that he hadn’t considered that he’d be sharing a bed with Simon. They’d even talked about it, briefly, and agreed it was no big deal. But Jace hadn’t considered exactly how much smaller his childhood bed was than the generous queen he slept in back home. It was technically large enough to fit two grown men, but only technically.

“Don’t worry,” Jace said, falling back on his trademark bravado, “I won’t get mad if you cuddle me in your sleep. I know you can’t help it if your subconscious recognizes that I’m irresistible.”

“I’m more worried about your freakishly sharp elbows,” Simon muttered.

“As long as you don’t snore or steal the covers, you won’t have to worry about my elbows,” Jace told him. He was planning to keep his elbows, and the rest of him, as far away from Simon as possible. Which, given the size of the bed, was maybe three inches.

“Dude, I do not snore,” Simon protested. “You know that; we live together.”

“You absolutely snore after your fourth drink.”

“I wasn’t planning to get drunk with your family,” Simon said, tossing his bag onto the bed.

“You say that now,” Jace said, leaving his own bag next to the door. “But wait until you get the full Lightwood Christmas experience before deciding you want to spend the whole thing sober.”

“If your family drives me to drink, you don’t get to blame me for snoring,” Simon countered. Which was probably fair, but Jace was saved from having to admit that by the sound of voices coming from downstairs.

“That’d be Izzy,” Jace said, “and we’d better get down there before she accuses me of trying to hide you from her.”

“Jace,” called a singsong voice, right on cue, “quit making out with your mystery hottie and get down here so we can actually meet him.”

“You should be careful making demands like that,” Jace called back. “What if I’m not wearing any pants?”

“We’ve all seen it. Get your ass down here “

“I like your sister already,” Simon told him.

“You say that now, but wait until she decides you count as family. She won’t be any better with you.” He took Simon’s hand. Because it helped sell their relationship. Because he could. Simon laced their fingers together, and Jace tried not to feel any way about that at all as he led Simon back down the stairs.

They only made it a couple steps before Simon came to a complete stop, almost causing Jace to trip the rest of the way down the staircase. He heard Simon mutter a soft ‘oh crap’ at the same time a bright, redheaded whirlwind came rushing up the stairs at them.

“Oh my god, Simon?” Clary grabbed Simon into a giant bearhug, effectively tearing his hand out of Jace’s. “You’re Jace’s mystery boyfriend? How did I not know about this? You didn’t even tell me you were dating anyone, you jerk! What happened to best friend gossip privileges?”

Clary pulled back from the hug, and now that Jace could actually see her face, he could see the hint of concern she was trying to hide under her wide smile.

“Clary. Hi,” Simon said, eyes wide. “I was going to tell you, I swear. It’s just, this is kind of new and so...” He trailed off, looking panicked. His eyes caught Jace’s. “But, uh, yeah. This is Jace. My boyfriend. Jace, this is my best friend, Clary Fray.”

“Yeah,” Jace said, looking between the two of them and feeling more than a little out of his depth. He’d planned for things to be weird, but not this weird. “We’ve met.” He flashed Clary a smile. “Fray, huh?”

She nodded. “I couldn’t keep his name. Not after...after everything. Fray is the name Mom used before she married Luke. It’s the name I remember her having when I was little, so.” She shrugged. “I filed the paperwork to have it legally changed the day I turned eighteen.”

“It suits you,” Jace told her, and let himself be pulled into a tight hug that he suspected was as much because she needed one as that she was glad to see him. Clary had never told him much about the biological father she barely knew, but she’d told him enough to know that Clary held him responsible for her mother’s death, even if the courts had cleared him of any wrongdoing.

“Thanks,” Clary whispered, before surreptitiously drying her eyes on his shoulder and pulling back to flash a smile that was less forced than Jace expected. “So, tell me how this happened without me hearing about it.” She bumped Jace with her shoulder. “And if it’s so new, what possessed you to subject Simon to your family holidays?”

“Hey,” Izzy said, walking up behind Clary and wrapping her arms around her girlfriend’s waist. Jace had to admit, they looked...well, right together. “That’s my family, too, you know.”

“Oh, I know,” Clary said, offering a soft grin over her shoulder. “And the fact that I’m here should tell you exactly how much I love you.”

“Fair,” Izzy said, then looked at Simon. “So, how’d my brother convince you to join this circus?”

“We made a trade,” Simon said, straight-faced. “I put up with his family for Christmas and he puts up with mine for my cousin Rachel’s wedding.” He leaned in and told Izzy in a stage whisper, “Also, I’m weak for his smile, but don’t tell him I said that, because he will abuse it.”

“You say that like I don’t already abuse it,” Jace said, sliding his arm around Simon’s waist in a mirror of Izzy and Clary’s pose. “And to answer your earlier question, us being officially together is new, but we’ve been sort of on the verge of dating for ages. Practically since we started sharing an apartment last year.”

Clary let out a peal of delighted laughter. “Oh, you’re the roommate. It makes sense now.” Before Jace could ask what made sense, she was pulling the both of them into a tight hug. “I’m really happy for both of you.”

“If I’d known you were going to be this excited, I definitely would have mentioned it sooner,” Simon said, pulling back from the hug.

Jace tried to catch his eye, wondering what on earth was going on. He knew both Clary and Simon well enough to know he was missing something, but he had no idea what it was. Simon ignored him, and that just made Jace more suspicious.

“Come on,” Izzy said. “You can have your hug fest later. Right now, I want to help Alec get things set up in the kitchen and maybe surprise Mom by getting dinner started before she gets back.”

Jace and Clary exchanged a panicked look, and Jace frantically searched his mind for excuses to keep Izzy busy. He didn’t actually want a repeat of the food poisoning episode, after all.

“Actually,” Simon said, turning a bright smile on Izzy. “I was kind of hoping you’d be willing to show me your Lego Star Wars collection before we get too wrapped up in family stuff. Jace mentioned you have the deluxe Imperial Star Destroyer set from the early 2000’s, and I’ve never actually seen one in person.”

“Oh,” Izzy said, looking torn. “I’m not sure—”

“We can help Alec in the kitchen,” Clary said quickly. “You two go do your nerd thing. I knew this was inevitable when I finally introduced you two anyway. And this way I get the chance to harass my bestie’s new boyfriend without him in the way trying to keep me from learning the embarrassing details.”

“You know, on second thought—” Simon began, looking slightly panicked.

“Come on,” Izzy interrupted, smiling brightly and grabbing his hand.

Simon flashed Clary a betrayed look, then looked to Jace for support. Jace simply smiled at him.

“Don’t worry, love muffin,” he said mildly. “I’d never intentionally embarrass you.”

“I want you to know that I hate both of you,” Simon said before allowing Izzy to drag him back up the stairs.

“My collection is all still in my old room,” Izzy said. “Clary and I have been looking for an apartment big enough I can actually move the rest of my stuff out of here, but so far we haven’t found anything in our price range.”

Jace turned back to Clary. “Exactly what kind of embarrassing stories were you hoping for? Because I have many.”

Clary shook her head. “I’m pretty sure I’ve got more embarrassing Simon stories than you do. I’ve got almost two decades worth. But I was actually hoping to talk to you alone anyway, and this seems like the best chance we’re going to get.”

Jace followed her down the stairs and into the study. “Sounds serious. You planning to give me a shovel talk?”

Clary laughed, shaking her head. “No, I know you, remember? I’m not worried about you hurting Simon. Well,” she amended, “not any more than I am about him hurting you.” She met his eyes with a soft smile. “You might be the only person I know with a heart as big as Simon’s, as much as you try to hide it.”

Jace looked away. It had been two years since the last time he’d seen her, and she could still see right to the heart of him. He didn’t want to know what she’d see if she kept looking. “Clary—”

“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me,” she teased. “But I didn’t actually bring you out here to talk about Simon. I wanted to apologize.”

Jace frowned, looking back at her. “You’ve got nothing to apologize for.” He was more than a little grateful not to have Clary grilling him about his entirely fabricated relationship, but he wasn’t sure where this conversation was going.

“No, I do,” she insisted. “I promised to keep in touch when you moved away, and I didn’t.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Jace said, even if maybe it had been at first. Those first few months at school had been hard. Jace always thought he was used to being alone, especially after his mother’s suicide, but he found out just how much he’d come to rely on his new family when he didn’t see them every day. They’d kept in touch, of course, but with Izzy immersed in her studies and Alec all wrapped up in his new relationship with Magnus, it wasn’t anything like what it had been when they were all under one roof.

For a while, he and Clary had been in touch nearly every day, sometimes texting multiple times a day. Jace told her about his classes and how much he liked Boston, and Clary told him all about trying to narrow down which art schools she wanted to apply to. It was almost the same sort of easy friendship they’d had before he left, after they agreed they were better off as friends.

But after a couple months, Clary’s messages came less and less often, and eventually stopped altogether. Jace tried not to let it bother him, but he started drinking a bit too much and going to a few too many parties. Which was how he’d met Maia, his attempts at flirting somehow leading to him getting his ass handed to him at beer pong, and soon he found himself with an entire group of new friends. Although Maia insisted for almost a year that she and Jace were merely antagonistic acquaintances.

Clary gave him a look that told him she knew exactly how full of it he was. “It was a shitty thing to do, and I was a shitty friend,” she told him. “Especially because I did it on purpose. Izzy and I started getting close and I started to have feelings for her, and I didn’t know what to say to you about it. I didn’t know how to even talk to you about what was going on in my life without mentioning that she was becoming such a big part of it.”

“You didn’t actually have to hide it from me, you know,” Jace said. “I was surprised when Izzy first told me, but I’m mostly just glad you’re both happy. And seeing you together, I know you both are.”

“Thanks,” Clary said. “I didn’t want to hurt you or make things weird. For a while, I thought I could just ignore what I was feeling, but Iz is just... She’s not someone you can ignore, you know?”

“Oh, I know exactly how hard my sister is to ignore, believe me.” Jace stopped, considered, then admitted something he had never said—would never say—to another person. But this was Clary, and he knew she would never repeat it. And even if she did, he could always play it off as part of the act. “She and Simon have that in common. You know, I actually thought I hated him at first? He’s so enthusiastic about everything, and so sincere, and just.” He shrugged. “Not the kind of person I thought would ever do it for me.”

“But he won you over with his boyish charm?” Clary guessed.

“Mm,” Jace agreed. And the way he loved without reserve. Not just his family and friends, but his music, his favorite films, even the crappy nachos from the 7-11 down the block from their apartment. Simon loved every part of life, and being around him, Jace could almost imagine what that felt like. “Well, that and his abs.”

“Can’t forget those,” Clary laughed.

“Not with how often he eats breakfast shirtless,” Jace agreed. “Come on. If we aren’t in the kitchen by the time Izzy gets back downstairs, you know she’ll try to help Alec herself, and I was kind of hoping for dinner to be edible.”

~~~

Dinner was surprisingly painless. Maryse was more relaxed and happy than Jace had ever seen her, and he couldn’t help wondering how much of that was related to the very unsubtle smiles she kept exchanging with Clary’s stepfather. Even Max, who was deep in throes of preteen scorn, grudgingly admitted that Simon being in a band was “pretty cool” and joined in on some of Simon, Clary, and Izzy’s excited nerd talk that went entirely over Jace’s head.

After dinner, they retired to the living room for eggnog and carols. Jace limited himself to a single cup of Magnus’s infamous eggnog, knowing better than to let himself get drunk when he was putting on a show for his family. Or sharing his tiny bed with Simon.

As usual, Jace let himself get pushed over the piano to play. He felt something in him settle as soon as he rested his fingers on the keys of Maryse’s baby grand, the feel different and so much more familiar than the ancient keyboard he had back in Boston or the well-used uprights in the practice rooms at school.

When Jace had first come to live with the Lightwoods, he’d been afraid to touch the piano. His mother had put him in lessons as soon as he was old enough, but she hated to listen to him play and often chastised him for not being a better player, saying he should be better at it with how talented his father was. Now, he understood that it was just another manifestation of the combined grief and mental illness that led to Celine’s death, but at the time he’d hated how awful he was at playing, no matter how much he enjoyed doing it.

But Maryse knew he played and encouraged him to use her piano. She told him that it had been her father’s, and though she’d taken lessons herself as a child, she’d never really loved it the way he had. She said that the instrument deserved to be loved, and as long as Jace loved playing it, she didn’t care how good he was or wasn’t.

It was the first time he’d really felt like this could be his home.

“Okay,” Jace said after the third version of O Tannenbaum with ridiculous altered lyrics—this one courtesy of Simon rather than Max or Clary, about an ill-fated toad who chose the wrong moment to cross the street, “I think my fingers are done for the night.”

“Oh, come on,” Clary said. “Simon and I have at least a dozen more of these we came up with when we were kids.”

“When we were little, I only knew the lyrics to the Christmas songs they played on the radio, so Fray made up silly lyrics to the other ones and told me they were real,” Simon explained. “And it made her so happy that I went along with it even for the couple I did know.”

“There will be plenty of time for more singing tomorrow,” Maryse said. “But if I know this one,” she continued, smiling at Max, “we’re all going to be dragged out of bed at the crack of dawn for presents.”

“Mom,” Max whined, “I’m not a kid anymore. I know the presents will still be there whenever I get up.”

“I seem to remember someone who looked an awful lot like you waking us up before sunrise last year,” Magnus said with exaggerated confusion. “Perhaps you have a twin I haven’t met?”

Max fixed him with a withering look. “Last year, I was eleven. This year I’m twelve,” he said, as though that explained it.

“Well, I’m glad to hear you’ve grown out of it,” Alec told him. “Because I intend to sleep in. And if you try to get me out of bed early, I’ll remind you of this conversation.”

“Oh, no need for that, darling,” Magnus said cheerfully. “I’ll just barricade the door before we go to sleep so he can’t get to us.”

“Brilliant,” Alec said, giving Magnus a frankly sappy smile. “I knew there was a reason I loved you.”

“And on that note,” Jace said, “I think I’m going to head to bed before I die of sweetness overdose.”

“Oh, please,” Magnus said, giving him an unimpressed look. “We all saw you and Simon making eyes at each other over those cookies you were frosting earlier.”

“It’s true,” Izzy said before Jace could protest. “You don’t get to tease Alec about being a sap anymore, not now that we’ve all actually seen you with someone you love.”

Jace froze, his mouth half open, then quickly snapped it shut. It made sense that Izzy would assume. He’d brought Simon home for Christmas, after all. That was the story they were selling even if they hadn’t actually discussed it, even if it wasn’t something Jace had said or even implied. And whatever he did feel for Simon, it certainly wasn’t love. It was, at best, a friendly crush. A very intense friendly crush.

Izzy seemed to realize her mistake, glancing between him and Simon with a look of dawning panic.

“No, you’re misunderstanding how this works,” Simon said easily, because of course Izzy’s words hadn’t sent him into a panic the way they had Jace. “Jace gets to tease Alec, and you, and you both get to tease him back.”

“Yep,” Clary agreed. “Those are the rules, because that means I still get to tease Simon.”

“Please,” Izzy said. “Clary and I are too sophisticated to be sappy.”

“I’m pretty sure I heard you call Clary ‘cuddle bug’ earlier,” Alec said.

“And I definitely saw you laugh at that terrible joke she told at dinner,” Jace added.

“She ate one of the cookies you made,” Max accused.

“Yeah, sorry, cutie,” Clary said. “We’re really pretty sappy.”

“Fine,” Izzy huffed. “But I just think you’re all jealous because I’ve got the cutest girlfriend.”

“Yes, Izzy,” Alec said drily. “You’ve uncovered my secret. I’m extremely jealous of your girlfriend.”

“I knew it,” Izzy said smugly, as though Alec had been perfectly sincere.

“Definitely in danger of dying of sweetness overdose,” Jace said.

That set off another round of teasing, this time with Izzy throwing in not so subtle attempts to drag Maryse and Luke into it. Jace wasn’t sure why Izzy was so determined to make the two admit there was something between them. It was obvious there was just from the way they acted around each other. Maryse would tell them when she was ready, just like she had when she and Robert filed for divorce.

It was almost another hour before Jace finally made his way up the stairs toward his room. He was surprised when Simon rose to follow him, but didn’t say anything until they were back in his room.

“I’m surprised you didn’t stay to nerd out with Clary and Iz some more.”

“I get to talk to Clary all the time,” he said with a shrug. “Besides, it’ll be easier to keep up the whole fake boyfriend thing if I don’t let her get me alone. She’d definitely figure out something’s up if I let her start grilling me about our relationship. Also, you don’t get to call me a nerd when you know just as much about Star Wars as I do.”

“It’s impossible to grow up with Izzy and not know way too much about Star Wars,” Jace said, pulling off his shirt and tossing it over a chair. “Are you still sure about doing this? Neither of us counted on Clary, and I’ll understand if you want to back out.”

“Huh?” Simon said, sounding distracted. Jace turned to look at him and thought he detected the faintest flush on Simon’s cheeks when he met his eyes. “I mean, yeah, no, I’m not backing out.” He gave an uncomfortable shrug as he pulled a set of pajamas out of his suitcase. “The last thing I want is to have to explain this whole thing to Clary.”

“Good point,” Jace agreed, turning around to put on his own pajama bottoms. It was tempting to watch Simon change, but it was also a very bad idea. “I don’t want to think about what she’d have to say to both of us if she knew.”

There was a beat of silence before Simon asked, “So, do you, um, have a preferred side of the bed?”

Jace turned to look at him, only a little disappointed to find Simon fully dressed in his pajamas. As usual when someone asked a question he didn’t want to think about, Jace flashed a smirk. “In a bed this small, I usually just take up the whole thing.”

“Well, unless you want me on top of you, you should pick a side,” Simon said, unimpressed. “Because I’m not sleeping on the floor.”

“I’ll take the left,” Jace said quickly, trying and mostly failing to avoid thinking about exactly how much he did want Simon on top of him. “I’m just gonna hit the bathroom real quick.”

Which was how Jace found himself locked in the tiny guest bathroom, lip caught between his teeth as he frantically tugged at his cock. He hadn’t planned on jerking off, but he couldn’t get Simon’s words out of his head, and he sure as hell wasn’t getting into bed with Simon half-hard, which was really the only other option.

He could picture it far too easily. Simon pressing him into that ridiculously tiny bed, hands gentle but firm, mouth just a little bit desperate.

He came to the thought of rutting up against those ridiculous abs.

By the time Jace cleaned himself up and returned to his room, Simon was nestled under the covers on the right side of the bed. Seeing him like that made something in Jace’s chest clench, and he flipped the light off just so he wouldn’t have to look anymore.

“‘Night,” Simon said as Jace slid into bed, taking care to stay entirely on his side.

“Don’t even think about snoring,” Jace answered.

He lay in the dark for a long time, staring into the darkness, listening to the sounds of the city that didn’t quite drown out the soft breathing of the man beside him. He tried not to think about how easy and relaxed the night had been, how perfect it would have been if only half of it weren’t a lie.

#shadowhunters #shmb2021 #jimon #jimon fic #jace wayland #simon lewis

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libsterslobsters · 4 years

Text

What Is And What Should Never Be Pt. 2

Summary: After the reader reveals the reason for her odd behavior, a lot of changes take place. How will she and Bucky adjust to the newest development in their always complicated life together?

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x fem!enhanced! Reader

(Reader can see shards of the future at random, understand every language, and process information abnormally quickly as well as being a super soldier)

Warnings: light angst, fluff, light smut, mentions of vomiting, pregnancy

*************************************************

“I’m happy about this.” The words are murmured against her shoulder. It’s a little ridiculous; they’re two full-grown adults who’ve been together for years, not teenagers in the first blush of romance. And yet, he’s still kneeling next to her and she’s working her fingers through his hair like this is a proposal.

“Me too.” She finally finds her voice, but it’s shaky, teary. “I’m also scared, Buck.” She can see shards of the future, for pete’s sake! That should give her a head’s up about life’s events, and yet somehow, she never imagined them here. She’s been running since the first time she realized those “daydreams” of hers come true. And when she met him, well, kids seemed like the last thing their lives would have room for. At this point, maybe she should just expect the unexpected.

“Me too.” At least she’s not the only who’s unsure of how to proceed.

Eventually she has to end the moment and return to the real world. The real world where kitchens don’t clean themselves. Placing one last peck on his forehead, she nudges him out of the way with her knee. It’s comical, the mild pout that settles on his lips as his eyebrows shoot up.

“Huh?”

“The dishes. We should probably clear them away, or else they’ll be a bitch to wash tomorrow morning.”

“Language, Doll.” Did he really just..? His right hand which, somehow, is still resting on her waistline gives her middle a gentle pat. “Can’t have the baby coming out swearing like a sailor.”

She rolls her eyes.

“Bucky, the baby doesn’t even have ears yet.” At least, she doesn’t think so. She really needs to do some research.

“No?” The smirk on his face clues her in that a (probably terrible) joke is about to be made. “Then why don’t you go on up to bed? You need your rest so you can get a head start on making them. I’ll handle the dishes and join you in a little while.” She’s right; it’s terrible. But she’s not going to protest if he wants to clean up.

“Alright.” While he’s doing that, she’s going to google which week of pregnancy babies develop ears. And maybe change into something more comfortable.

In the confines of their bedroom, she considers the delicate nightgowns and lacy underthings she has tucked away from special occasions (or really any time one of them needs cheering up), but ultimately doesn’t like the look of any of them. Not tonight. Not after the distance that’s been between them for the past week, where she was so at war with herself that every time he touched her, it sent a stab of panic and guilt through her heart. No, this is a return to normal, reassuring themselves that they’re still okay, it’s just another bend in the road. After all, she thinks to herself as she climbs into bed and arranges the sheets to rest over her body beguilingly (a small part of her doesn’t want to just lie there naked in case he’s somehow disgusted by her now, although she knows it’s a foolish thought), she won’t look like this for much longer, so she may as well make the most of it.

Any concern is erased when he walks through the bedroom door and immediately freezes, carefully eyeing his way down her partially hidden body from head to toe like so many times before.

“I really did mean just rest, you know.” All the while, he’s tugging his shirt over his head.

“I know.” She nods, a slight smile on her face. “But it’s only a little after seven. There’s still plenty of time to rest later.”

He settles on the mattress next to her, leaning so close that she can feel his shallow breaths on her cheek.

“Are you sure?” It’s sweet, and she does appreciate the consideration, but it’s been long enough, and she’s almost certain he needs this as much as she does.

“Of course I’m sure.”

It’s gentler than usual, more whispered, “I love you’s”, soft gasps and deeper moans. Almost as if they’re rediscovering each other, both trying their damnedest to push every last hot spot that they’ve discovered over the years. This isn’t just sex (not that there’s anything “just” about anytime they’re together), but a way of reminding each other, “You’re safe. I know you, and you know me. You’re cherished. I’m not going anywhere.”

Afterwards, in the quiet of the afterglow, their bodies still pressed together with his chest to her back, he asks,

“When did you start to think-”

She doesn’t wait for him to finish. It’s obvious what he’s referring to.

“The food poisoning.” Which in hindsight, she feels pretty stupid for even considering. “I really did believe I’d eaten something bad-” It’s subtle, so subtle you might miss it, but she catches the quiet sigh of relief he lets out knowing that their promises hold true, they’re still completely honest with each other. “-until I remembered that I haven’t so much as had the sniffles since Nat put the needle in my arm.” It’s been years, but she still sometimes forgets that she doesn’t have to worry about things like the flu or her shopping bag being too heavy anymore.

“And, when it wasn’t better the next day…” She trails off, absentmindedly playing with his hand where he’s still got his arm thrown over her waist.

“I thought that was kinda weird too.” He chuckles quietly. “Now I really wish I’d made you stay home that day so we could’ve figured it out together.”

She doubts that either of them would have immediately jumped to the conclusion that she’s pregnant (they take precautions, even if those precautions aren’t fool-proof), but decides to go with the lighter option and concentrate on-

“Make me?” She cranes her neck to see his face. “And how were you planning to do that? Tie me to the bedposts?” His lips quirk up into a smirk.

“Now there’s an idea.”

“Watch it, Barnes.”

___________________________________________________________________________________

Bucky’s a light sleeper, so he wonders how he missed it before. But now that he knows it’s coming, he’s immediately awake when she slips out of bed and bolts toward the bathroom. It appears that super serum is powerless against morning sickness.

It’s a few minutes before she’s in any position to speak, much less sit up from her crouch over the toilet bowl, and in that time, he’s swept her hair up out of the way and started rubbing gently between her shoulder blades. When the sickness finally does ease up that she can lean back against him, he asks,

“Is this why you’ve been getting up before me?” He may not have heard her, but when his alarm went off, there was no way he could miss her side of the bed being empty and cold.

She groans quietly. “What do you think?”

He thinks she looks exhausted and so very small, curled in on herself on the cold bathroom tiles. With all the things he’s done in his life, guilt’s a familiar face, but it’s never been as heavy as it is now, seeing her suffer. It’s just part of the process, he knows that. It may not have been the topic of polite conversation back in his youth, but it still cropped up when mothers and grandmothers came together and talked. She’ll feel better eventually, but for now…

“I think I’m gonna read the room and shut up.”

She laughs tiredly. “Good answer.”

Several more minutes tick by before she tells him that she thinks it’s over for now. He really wishes she’d let him carry her back to bed, but when he suggests it, she rolls her eyes and teasingly calls him a mother hen. Still, once she’s safely tucked back under the covers, he goes downstairs in search of crackers and a glass of water. His phone is still on the nightstand charging, so he can’t do a quick search of what else is good for nausea, but decides to throw in some dry toast as well.

By the time he’s back upstairs with his tray of home remedies, she’s asleep again. A huge part of him wants to just let her rest, but he knows he should probably get her to choke something down.

“Come on, Doll. Wake up for me.” She’s not as light of a sleeper as him, but the words in combination with him brushing back her hair make those delicate eyelids flutter.

“Wha-”

“Let’s get some food in you, and then I’ll let you go back to sleep. Promise.”

She doesn’t look too happy about it. In fact, her breathing is growing heavy again. She’s going back under.

“Sweetheart, please. You need to at least have some water. If you’re dehydrated, it’s not good for you or the baby.” That seems to be the magic word. With a groan, she sits up, still rubbing lightly at her eyes.

“I forgot…” She mumbles as she accepts the glass of water and slowly begins to drink. She forgot…? Oh. Well, she’s only known for a little while, and frankly, he’s still trying to wrap his head around it.

His wife is pregnant. That’s not a phrase he ever thought would apply to him (correction, he mentally amends; he used to hope for that one day, but after mad scientists experiment on you, well, an apple pie life seems unlikely). In a few months, there’s going to be another person living with them. One made out of them both, who’ll rely on them for safety, security, and love. She’s up to it, he’s absolutely sure. But him? He’s got a lot of baggage. He’s killed people. He’s missing a fucking arm, for goodness’ sake! How could he ever-

“You’ll be a good dad. You know that, right?”

She’s slurring a little, still half-asleep, and he’s a tiny bit concerned she’s going to go under and choke on that cracker she’s nibbling at. Still, she’s looking him square in the eyes, a small smile on her face. Maybe she saw a glance of the future which showed her what he’s thinking. Maybe she just knows him that well. Either way, he’s not sure of it, but-

“I know you’ll show me how.” She’s almost back under, so he brushes a few stray crumbs from her lips with is thumb and tucks the covers back around her shoulders. “And so will she.”

“She?” Her eyes are closed even as she asks. “You think it’s a girl?”

He’s not sure why he thinks that, or more, why he feels it, but he does.

“Yeah, Doll.” With a quick kiss to her forehead, he collects the now empty glass and starts towards the door. “I think it’s a girl.”

___________________________________________________________________________________

“Doll, aren’t you supposed to see a doctor at some point?” So close. She was so close to falling asleep (which seems to be all she wants to do lately) after marking the last paper in preparation for Monday morning. Still, it’s a valid question, and one she’s thought about herself.

“At some point, but you’re not supposed to go in until the eight week mark.” At least, if google is indeed correct. He nods and goes back to half-heartedly staring at the tv show in front of them.

“When is that, by the way?” She opens her mouth to tell him it’s not for a while, but then she realizes that… oh boy.

“Um…” When was the last time she had her period? It’s not like she keeps up with it. They weren’t trying to have a baby, and they were reasonably safe (in hindsight, maybe not as safe as they thought), so it didn’t seem necessary. He’s staring at her intently, expression growing more and more concerned with every second she doesn’t answer, so finally, she has to admit-

“I don’t really know. Do you have any idea?” She’s expecting the answer even before he says it.

“Not really.” 0 for 2. That sounds about right.

“Shit.”

For a brief, hysterical moment, she thinks about scolding him for his language since he did it to her earlier, but that thought gives way to the more pressing matter: how pregnant is she? Not that there’s varying degrees. Knocked up is knocked up, and it’s pretty damn clear she is.

He’s the first to recover. “Okay. Let’s count.” Counting. Something she can do.

“Not in the last twenty-eight days, or else the test wouldn’t have worked…”

They spend a solid ten minutes trying to figure it out, but neither of them can narrow it down any further.

“We’re idiots!” She’s nearly shouting out of frustration with herself and whoever up there has it out for them. Seriously, just this once, couldn’t things be easy? “We’re actual idiots!”

“That’s a little harsh, don’t you think?” The pressure of his hand around hers calms her just a tiny bit.

“Okay.” She nods. “Not idiots, but we do have crappy memories.”

He offers her a crooked smile. “Hey, I’m over a hundred years old. My memory’s supposed to be shot. What’s your excuse, Pretty Young Thing?”

“Baby Brain.” Is that even a thing this early on? Then again, is she early on? She has to be, right? Otherwise the morning sickness would be over. And she’s not showing.

He chuckles. “You’re gonna be using that one a lot, aren’t you?”

The layers of stress are beginning to melt away. She nods.

“You have to admit, as far as excuses go, it’s a pretty solid one.”

Ultimately, she decides it’s best to make the call Monday morning, but schedule it for at least another week out just to be sure. They don’t want to go in and be lectured for jumping the gun, after all.

___________________________________________________________________________________

“Can you just confirm your name and date of birth for me?” That has to be the sixth time she’s been asked that since they walked into the OB-GYN’s office. He really would have thought they’d have it down by now. Still, she recites off the information from her place on the exam table.

“Great.” The technician smiles brightly. “Now, if you can lift up your shirt and roll down your pants, we’ll start the ultrasound. This is just to give us a better estimate on your due date and make sure everything’s looking good with baby, alright?” She must say something in response, but Bucky can’t hear anything over the blood rushing in his ears. This is it. They’re about to actually see their baby for the first time and hear the heartbeat. He’s not much for prayer, but he silently pleads with whoever might be listening that she’s fine, she’s healthy.

The screen is gray and grainy for the most part. So far, it doesn’t look like much. “Fluid looks good. Placenta’s where it should be, and-”

Does the tech have to push down that hard? Can’t he be a little more gentle? Surely it’s not necessary to use that much force when you’re trying to get a read on-

“-there’s your baby.” His mind immediately empties, instead focusing on the blurry image on the screen.

It’s a blob, and if he’s being honest, kind of looks like a tadpole that’s just grown arms and legs. The head is huge, and at the center is a flickering light.

“That’s the heartbeat. Would you like to hear it?” Again, she must say something, because an impossibly fast rhythm fills the room. There’s actually a little person in there. How can something so delicate with a heartbeat like the beat of hummingbird wings, already have such a huge place in his heart? How is it possible that he suddenly can't imagine life without that brightly flashing blob currently growing in his wife's womb?

He’s in a bit of a daze throughout the following appointment and exam. The doctor informs them that they're at 9 weeks and 5 days and gives them a predicted due date. After a far too invasive physical exam (at least to his mind, but she doesn't seem to think a thing about it(, they're given an appointment a month out, a prescription for prenatal vitamins, and sent on their way.

Once they’re in the car, a stack of brochures clutched in his hand and an envelope full of pictures in hers, he finally musters up the courage to speak.

"Looks like we really did it this time, Doll. She’s actually in there."

"Hey, at least it's not twins." She smiles as she speaks, but it’s a little uncertain. “Are you sure you're okay with this, Bucky?”

He thinks about telling her how completely in awe he is that he had anything to do with making something so tiny and perfect, how he's overwhelmingly in love with someone he's never met, not to mention how he's that much more in love with her, and he didn't think that was possible, but for now, he goes with-

“Yeah. I’m okay with it.”

Closing the gap between them, he presses their lips together in a kiss. This is just another bend in a long, winding road, but he has a feeling it’s the best one yet.

#marvel #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky fic #bucky x oc #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #the winter soldier #bucky x pregnant!reader #captain america #avengers

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strawberrymilkloadingscreen · 4 years

Text

Giving Up the Ghost Chapter 1 (Rise TMNT) (Donnie x Black&Female! Reader)

“Holy shit they’re turtle demons.”

You hadn’t believed April when she said that the demons and ghosts you were obsessed with lived in her tiny apartment. Every time you’d gone over in the last year and a half there hadn’t been that sort of itchy energy that you associated with demons, or the more groggy and cold one that came with ghosts. In fact, she didn’t live in a building considered a hot haunting zone online, her entire block was ghost free, and even the little sub place she was working at didn’t have a lick of phantom energy.

April O’Neil was as normal as could be.

However, there wasn’t anything you could say to refute the very clear evidence in front of you. Four gigantic turtles with weapons were crowded in your friend’s living room, yellow paint splattered on them, April, and the walls.

April scratched her head and ended up smearing hazard yellow paint through her cherry red curls. “Heeeey. What’re you doing here?”

“Me? Can we start talking about them?”

“Them? Psht! They’re just-“

A turtle in blue set a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay, April. Talking about secret hobbies is embarrassing, but coming clean will do the body good. Like milk.”

“Leo…”

“The truth is that we’re… cosplaying.”

You rolled your eyes at that. “Seriously? That’s the best thing you can come up with? Even without my token I can practically see the energy coming from you.”

“Human girl say what?”

“She probably means the trace bits of mutagen from the oozsquitos in our blood.” A purple one muttered. “Which, I mean, is fair and accurate. Better question is how she can see anything since looking at her she’s obviously a normal everyday human.”

“WHOOOA!” You leaned back as an orange clad turtle got eye level with your chest. You weren’t sure when he got there, and that part concerned you more than a little. “What’s that!”

“What’s… Oh.” You plucked up the gem that had a perfect hole in the middle of it. “It’s the token. It lets me see ghosts, demons, but not 5’3 turtles dressed in neon orange.”

“It’s a great color. Is that violet or lavender?”

“I dunno? What are you?”

“Well I’m a warm shade of green with-“

The largest turtle plucked the smaller orange one up with one hand, and easily set him with all the others. “We’re mutants that are turtles… And ninjas. So don’t say a thing or we’ll make you disappear.”

“Isn’t that Hypno’s thing?” The one in blue wondered.

“Leo I’m trying to keep her from spilling our secret, annnd she’s fainting.”

You were in fact fainting into a pile of pure excitement and worry onto April’s paint splattered floor. The last thing you saw was April’s baseball bat, and four flinching turtles trying to get out her glitter encrusted door…

_______________________________________________________________

You ended up waking up on your front porch with a bottle of vodka tucked under your arm. You weren’t sure if it was April’s way to say sorry, or if it was to give your landlord and other passerby the idea that you passed out drunk. Either way the booze was welcome as you made your way out of the muggy summer heat and into the ice cold of your apartment. Your roommate’s cat, Xena, meowed at your return and followed you about as you took off your boots at the door. You went to the counter and pushed aside empty Chinese takeout boxes and mail to make room for the vodka.

With that task completed you quickly stripped, and tossed out the paint encrusted clothes in the trash, before cramming yourself in the shower and scrubbing hard. “How was I not robbed and murdered?”

Probably because you looked crazy. A Ouija board shirt and some booze was enough to make a handful of people back away from you; a wonderful lesson that college parties and your small town had taught you. The wet paint was probably another great deterrent. Whatever the case you were thankful enough not to get mad at the splotches that wouldn’t scrub off your dark skin. You quickly hopped out and towel dried before pulling on some comfy clothes and going back into the kitchen.

You paused beside a large tank sitting on top of some stacked books. With a groan you popped down on your knees and peered inside, a soft smile curling on your lips as you watched the turtle sitting on a pastel rock. “Hey Venus. Comfy?”

“Awe, are you talking to your turtle?” Your skin jumped and you quickly stood rod straight. “Hey don’t get jumpy on me now. Just me.”

“I mean it’s normal to get jumpy when around a walking talking garbage disposal.”

“I’d be offended if it wasn’t true.”

You rolled your eyes and grabbed the bottle of vodka. “What are you even doing here, Ricky? Jessie won’t be back for another week.”

“Forgot my phone charger here last night.” He waved the blue device around. “Oh, by the way, there was another haunting out at my Ma’s. Said she saw the pots moving. Think you could take a look?”

Ghosts… Wait, that was why you went to go see April. You’d seen some new ghost documentary on a streaming service, and you’d made plans with her to see it. When you got there…

Turtles.

Well, the red one said they were also ninja. That sounded utterly ridiculous, but you weren’t inclined to argue with demons or ghosts. Not that you had met that many, four in total including the ones today, but you’d read enough materials to know that it would be stupid to do so! Old ladies out in China Town though…

“Sorry Ricky, but I’ve got my plate full. Can you tell her I’ll try to make it some other time?”

“No prob. Pretty sure she’s just lonely and making up stuff to get some visitors. Should really go out there and scrapbook with her again now that I think about it.” He slicked back his blue hair. “Anyway, I’m heading out. If Jessie calls tell them I want some nudes”

“…No.”

“How about ‘I love you’.”

“Better.”

You waited until you heard the soft click of the door and snap of the lock before you went over to the cabinet and popped open a soda. You took a good swig before adding a splash of the vodka, and going back to the living room. Xena decided to take over your legs, but you couldn’t complain as you grabbed your laptop and began to do what you did best. Blogs were examined, newspaper articles scanned, and plenty of folklore was cracked open between sips of your boozy treat.

There were plenty of things for ninja that would come up for New York City. Everything from comic-cons, movie sets, and even a few historical events for museums. You were getting something similar for turtles as well. A new friend donated to the zoo, a fundraiser for conservation, and plenty of art meant to beautify the city.

However, when you entered the terms for humanoid turtles that’s when things were getting sketchy. Strange photos out outlines in a fish and ladder market, far more convincing ones during the hippo turtle meme a few years back, and a shaky video of black blobs ziplining down to a rooftop pool.

The more that you saw them the less you were convinced these things were demons or ghosts. Some type of cryptid maybe? Aliens? However, the term ninja made you lean more towards monsters, to be more specific kappa. Turtles that would drown their victims, rip orbs out of asses, and had a strange love for cucumber. You ended up falling asleep with Xena asleep on your keyboard and the new knowledge armed in your brain.

That was why you found yourself standing outside April’s, now non glittery, door the next morning. You had a basket hanging off your arm, and your cellphone fisted in your free hand. You kicked at the door, and only moments later it was ripped open by a still yellow streaked April.

“Oh it’s you…”

“Don’t get all excited to see me.”

The two of you stood in silence for a long moment, nervous smiles on both your faces and the air thick with tension. You took a deep breath and held out the basket full of sake and kappa.

“Here!”

“What is it?”

You looked away, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip until it stung. “Well, you had kappa in your house, and I wanted to give that as a peace offering. I dunno how you managed to meet kappa of all things in NYC, but I’m not gonna judge… Or tell. Especially that last one.”

April stared at the basket for a long moment, before looking at you with an equally bewildered look. She held up a single finger, before pulling her phone out of her pocket and tapped something out on it. “Wha-? You think they’re monsters from Japanese folklore? Girl, you really went all out with that vodka, huh?”

“I dunno what they were. One minute I was in your house, and the next it’s a mess and you have huge ass turtles in there. Isn’t that just the most interesting thing to ever happen!”

“Ahhhh not really?”

“Well, I guess you’re used to it. That’s fair.”

April gave a soft sigh before opening her door up all the way, and gesturing for you to come inside. “Look, I think the two of us are gonna have to have a long talk. Want some coffee?”

“Only if you’ve got whipped creamer.”

“Don’t you know it.”

You followed her into the apartment and your nervousness melted away. "So how'd you meet them?" "Well it all started when I was a kid thanks to a sad sad trolling attempt..."

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