#Toddler: -cartoon blinking-

[bumblingbabooshka]

Got any fun facts about any of your oc’s that you’re dying (figuratively ofc) to share?

Thank you for the ask! Here are some off the top of my dome for our Star Filled Oyster crew~!

[dudethatsmyundeaduncle]

DP x DC AU

Danny's gonna adopt all the Halfas in Gotham whether he wants to or not, and it's gonna start with the little dead girl he found after crawling out of that portal in the league base.

Pt 2 here. My Au Art

...........................

There's a dead little girl sitting on the rug in front of Danny's coffee table curiously eating Cheetos.

Well, she's not all the way dead, only half, could even be a little less then that, Danny would know he's sort of the leading expert on being half dead.

Her skins blue, like comic book mystique blue, vibrant and impossible to miss. Shes got these big black eyes and a nasty split going straight through her upper lip to just under her right eye.

She's also missing her nose, it's just gone, no cartilage left over just the gaping nasal cavity like skulls have.

The little girl looks dead, she is dead, or she's at least as dead as Danny is which is almost exclusively in name only.

Her name is Curaré, Danny only knows it because it's been branded into the skin of the little girls neck, just under the curve of her bald skull.

Curaré is terribly thin, the little toddler sized T-shirt she has on hangs loose around her torso where baby fat should fill it out.

She's horrible to look at, a tiny nightmare, her corpse like coloring doing nothing to mitigate the appearance.

Curaré was neither a healthy nor normal little girl, there was no way Danny could have left that league facility without her.

Oh and she almost exclusively spoke in Spanish which made finding her dinner hard.

Not that Cheetos are really dinner, little kids need to eat more then that Danny was pretty sure, like 89% sure. Although they did have a lot of calories...

Danny tilts his head absently as he looks at her, the little demon being illuminated red and green by the glow of the TV. She's enraptured by the Scooby doo rerun Gotham's only spanish language channel is playing tonight.

As if she can feel his eyes she turns to him and tilts her head the same way.

Danny blinks at her, Curaré blinks back.

" Uh- " Danny starts, trying to remember anything from his Spanish elective from sophomore year. God, his teacher had been right he had needed to study more. " The Cheetos, you like them? They're uh...bueno? Oh! Son Buenos?"

He points his finger down at the snack sized bag in her grasp, her fingers are tiny , they must be so fragile, looking at the desperate grasp they have on the bag makes Danny's chest hurt. How could anyone be so small? Had Danny ever been that small?

Curaré blinks again, long and slow, processing Danny's words. She looks down at her Cheetos and back up at Danny then she carefully holds the bag out to him.

" Oh no that's ok they're for you kiddo" Danny insists.

Curaré shakes the bag at him, like enticing a stray cat with treats but he only shakes his head again.

She gives up after that, shrugging and turning back to her cartoons.

Inside her chest Danny can feel her ghost core vibrate placidly as Scooby and Shaggy run across the TV in a panic.

Danny's own core can't help but try to match it's frequency, a low contented humming echoes between them, safe it seems to say.

Curaré can't be older then 4, which means she was resurrected young and that she died even younger. Danny doesn't know how any of it happened, halfas aren't created easily, the amount of energy needed...

She's so small.

He hopes it was fast, whatever it was that did this to her, made her like him.

Danny also hopes that her injuries aren't permanent. Some ghosts keep the carnage of their corpses well into the after life but as a Halfa Curaré should heal, even if she got those injuries during her ressurction. For her sake it'll be much easier to find some sense of normalcy if she isn't always actively bleeding, even if the blood itself is just an ecto-echo of real blood.

Danny curls his knees up to his chest and hides his face for a moment just trying to breathe. He's too young to be taking care of a toddler, he's still six months away from turning 18 and hes got school on Monday. His eyes burn and his throat constricts as he tries to swallow.

No one else but Danny would know how to take care of Curaré, and she's got no family to try and stumble their way through it. Danny can't take her back to the league and he sure as hell isn't going to search for whoever put that brand on her neck.

Even if he dropped her off at the fire station Gotham only has one Meta focused orphanage, it's state run and all the kids in it have to wear little prison style jump suits. And the food sucks, Danny can personally vouch for that.

She doesn't have a home, she's just as out of place here in Gotham as Danny is. Danny really wishes, not for the first time, that he had an adult here. Like Jazz or hell even Mr. Fuckin Lancer.

Just anyone. Anyone who could tell Danny what to do about this. Who could help him out with the child he's suddenly acquired.

He wishes anyone else was here so it wouldn't just be him and Curaré. Two dead kids sitting on the floor of a studio apartment in the Bowery watching cartoons.

What a pair the two of them will make, oh God. Danny laughs as a few tears stain his jeans.

Curaré makes a curious little noise that has Danny forcing his head up. She's reached the inevitable end of her snack sized bag and she looks absolutely devastated. She turns to look at him, tilting the empty bag towards him as if to say ' can you believe this shit!'

Danny can't help but give her a watery smile, no more crying Fenton, and wipes his nose on the back of his hand.

" Okay, one thing at a time." Danny tells himself. " You finished your Cheetos and now it's time for dinner, right? Stop me if I'm wrong."

Curaré just looks at him.

Danny's not worried, they're gonna have all the time in the world to teach her to appreciate humour and also English.

" I'm going to take that as a yes. " Danny hops up off the floor and goes to find his phone, nobody does dinner like the local Batburger.

Little foot steps follow him into the hallway, he'll have to get used to that sound he's going to be hearing it a lot.

Food first, everything would be better after they ate.

...............

For BG I imagine he's been living in Gotham for a few months and found Curaré while popping in and out of different portals in Gotham. (Who woulda guessed that some portal in Gotham leads right to the lazarus pit)

Note: if u wanna see cool art for this AU it's all in the Danny and the little dead girl au tag on my pg!

[pucksandpower]

Heyyyyy how are you? Hope you're doing well and taking care of yourself. How is medical school hope you're doing good. So I was thinking about the grid kids series and a scenario appeared in my head. So basically the baby still a toddler say a swear word and when asked who taught her that she just tell she heard that from Yuki, but in reality it was the grid kids that braided her with candy. It's just so funny to me

Grid Kids: Potty Mouth

Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers

Summary: the grid kids help expand their sister’s vocabulary in interesting ways

Series Masterlist

It’s a lazy Saturday morning and you’re making breakfast. Your toddler daughter is happily perched on Sebastian’s lap at the kitchen island, babbling about anything and everything while he nods along seriously.

The grid kids lounge around, still half-asleep. Game night ran late, fueled by one too many Red Bulls and everyone’s chronic competitiveness.

Charles yawns loudly. “I don’t know how she has so much energy already.”

“Right?” Lando grumbles. “It should be illegal to be awake before 10 am on weekends.”

Max stumbles to the coffee maker, nearly tripping over George who’s fallen back asleep on the floor. Mick and Lance are slumped together on the couch, bleary-eyes barely open.

As you finish cooking, you turn to your daughter. “Okay sweetie, breakfast is ready!”

She grins, kicking her little legs excitedly. As Sebastian goes to lift her into the highchair, she suddenly shrieks “FUCK!”

A stunned silence descends on the room. Eight heads swivel towards the little girl, eyes wide. Sebastian and you exchange horrified looks.

“Where did you learn that word?” You ask gently.

She blinks up at you innocently. “Yuki said it!”

The grid kids practically dive over each other to appear shocked and appalled.

“Yuki? Using language like that?” George exclaims.

“How disgraceful!” Max adds. “We’ll be having a stern talking to with him about this.”

You raise an eyebrow at them.

Something seems … off.

Sebastian kneels to your daughter’s level. “Honigbienchen, are you sure Yuki said that? Not one of your brothers?”

She nods vigorously. “Yuki said it when we were playing race cars!”

The boys subtly sigh in relief.

Crisis averted.

Or so they think.

“You know, I don’t recall Yuki having a chance to play with you recently,” you say slowly.

A tense pause.

Sideways glances are exchanged.

The grid kids develop a sudden fascination with the ceiling.

“Alright boys, enough playing dumb. Who taught her the swear word?” Sebastian asks, his Dad Voice™ making them squirm.

“It was Max!”

“It was Charles!”

“It was Lando!”

“It was Lance!”

“It was George!”

“It was Mick!”

They all exclaim in unison, pointing fingers.

A fierce blame game erupts as their bickering intensifies to chaos.

“Enough!” You shout over the noise.

The six drivers fall silent, heads hanging guiltily.

You sigh, lifting your daughter into her highchair. “We’re very disappointed in all of you. You know she’s at the stage where she repeats everything she hears.”

“We’re sorry,” Mick says quietly. “We should have been more responsible.” The others nod, mumbling apologies.

“And we’re sorry we made you say it was Yuki, munchkin,” Lance adds. “We just didn’t want Mom and Dad to be mad at us.”

Sebastian shakes his head. “Lying makes it worse. But we know you didn’t mean any harm.”

“Tell you what,” you offer. “Whoever teaches her the most educational words this week is forgiven. Good, clean words only!”

The boys’ faces light up. Charles grabs a notepad and they huddle together, beginning to strategize.

You can’t help but smile.

Crisis averted.

***

What follows is a week of mayhem.

“Look Lando, it’s an AARDVARK!” George points excitedly at a cartoon aardvark in a book. “Aardvark starts with A!”

Lando nods seriously. “Aardvark. Aaaaardvark.”

Your daughter claps her little hands. “Aawdvawk!”

The boys high-five. One point for them.

Later, Max drives his toy model RB22 towards her. “Vroom vroom! This is a race car! It has DRS. Can you say drag reduction system?”

She scrunches her nose. “Dwag wedection system!”

“Nice one!” Lance whispers. Max grins, ruffling your daughter’s hair smugly.

At dinner, Charles scans his food. “Mmm, broccoli! This is BROCCOLI!” He holds up a roasted floret. “Can you try and say it?”

“Bwock-lee!” Your daughter squeals through a mouthful of the vegetable. Charles pumps his fist.

Mick doesn’t waste time and pulls out a small globe as soon as she finishes eating, pointing at a certain country. “Look! It’s Germany! That’s where Papa and I come from. Can you say Germany?”

Your daughter scrunches her face in concentration. “Ger...mummy?”

Mick chuckles, “Close enough!”

Sebastian winks at you with a smirk, “Well Mummy sure did conquer Germany, didn’t she?”

You playfully raise an eyebrow, “If by Germany you mean one particularly sexy German driver, then yes, I guess I did.” The grid kids pretend to gag.

Too bad. You’ll take the payback any way you can.

This continues for days. Meal times become vocabulary lessons, walks around the house are accompanied by exaggerated pointing at objects. Books are read with ridiculous enthusiasm, animal noises amplified.

You and Sebastian exchange amused looks as the boys vie for your daughter’s attention, each hoping to teach her the most complex word or phrase. Their efforts have become less about earning forgiveness and more about one-upping each other.

By the end of the week, her vocabulary has expanded exponentially. The boys even taught themselves some new words in the process.

As the boys argue over who should be declared the winner during dinner the following Saturday, Sebastian whistles loudly. “Enough! You all went above and beyond this week with her.”

You smile. “You’re all forgiven. And I think we can thank you for increasing her word bank more in a week than months of normal teaching.”

They cheer, exchanging pleased grins.

You lean down to your daughter’s level. “Now, can we agree no more bad words?”

She nods seriously. “No fuck!”

The room descends into chaos once again.

***

It’s race day and the paddock is hectic as usual. You and Sebastian finally relented and brought your daughter along after weeks of nonstop begging from the grid kids to have their sister on the sideline cheering for them.

As you walk through the pit lane, she squeals and points. “Max! Lando! Chawles! Lance! Mick! Geowge!”

The boys grin, waving enthusiastically as they rush to crowd around her, cooing over how big she’s gotten in the few days they haven’t seen her while she giggles and soaks up the attention.

Nearby, Yuki is chatting with his trainer. Your daughter tugs Sebastian’s hand and skips over to him. “Yuki! Hi Yuki!”

Yuki turns, smiling. “Hi, o-joh-chan! Excited for the race?”

She nods, pigtails bouncing. As Yuki leans down to chat with her, a two-way radio falls off a passing golf cart, narrowly missing his foot.

“Ah shit!” He exclaims before freezing. Your daughter’s eyes go wide. The grid kids stiffen, bracing themselves.

Yuki stares at you and Sebastian in horror, realizing his mistake. “Oops! Uh, I mean ... shoot!”

But it’s too late. A devilish grin spreads across your daughter’s face.

This is her moment.

“SHIT!” She shouts gleefully.

Yuki turns bright red as laughter erupts around him. “I am so sorry!” He sputters. “I didn’t mean to—”

Sebastian just chuckles, patting his shoulder. “Don’t worry, we know it was an accident.”

Your daughter is thrilled with this new word she can very clearly enunciate. She spots two team principals across the paddock.

“Chwistian! Shit!” She yells. “Toto! Shiiit!”

Christian trips over his own feet. Toto turns an alarming shade of splotchy red but can’t help laughing. You and Sebastian hurry over, trying to shush her excited swearing.

The grid kids are crying with laughter. Charles is wheezing. “This is even better than I imagined!”

Max high-fives your daughter. “That’s my girl! You tell them!”

You shoot him a warning look and he gives you an innocent grin. Sebastian scoops up your still-cursing daughter, bouncing her gently. “Alright sweetie, I think that’s enough for today.”

Her lip wobbles. “But it’s fun, Papa.”

The boys are zero help, doubled over cackling. Yuki still looks mortified.

Sebastian kisses your daughter’s forehead, stifling a grin. “I know but let’s keep the excitement PG for now, okay? You can say those words when you’re a grown up too.”

You take her little hand, ready to steer her away before she can scar any more eardrums. As you walk off, she peeks over Sebastian’s shoulder and yells one last farewell.

“Bye Yuki! SHIIIT!”

[milaisreading]

Of a toddler and Loki's sanity

Warnings: Reader uses she/her, but since she is crossdressing, the guys use he/him on her. Requests are open

⚽️Blue Lock belongs to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura ⚽️

🌱🩷: Ngl, I had so much fun writing these. Writing about toddler Blue Lock is very relaxing

Ego was pretty much at his wits end. If it wasn't for the few Blue Lock members who gave him hope that Japan will win the World cup, he would have left the job.

"Shut up already." Ego groaned as the 2 years old Charles started crying more and more. Loki had found the boy this morning and brought him to the office. He left the other French boy just for 10 minutes to look for a toy, and already chaos has started.

"Anri, please shut him up!" The woman groaned as she tried to look for something to pacify the toddler. There was nothing she could find.

"I am trying, Ego. But, we threw everything out after (Y/n) turned normal a few weeks ago." Anri argued back, only to realize the French boy had stopped crying.

"Huh?" Ego raised an eyebrow as he watched Charles blink at Anri for a few moments and then looked around the room.

"(Y/n)... (Y/n)..."

"Huh? That calmed him down?" Anri raised an eyebrow, moving closer to where Charles was. Ego was intrigued as well since the French player and (Y/n) didn't have many interactions to warrant this reaction.

"(Y/n)?" Anri repeated the name, only to watch Charles grin and nod his head.

"Do you want to see he-him! Do you want to see him?" Anri asked, quickly correcting herself.

"This is off..." Ego wondered as Loki finally came into the room, looking nervously at the adults.

"Found the item..." Loki gulped, handing Charles the plush toy.

"(Y/n)..." Charles giggled, hugging the plush version of (Y/n).

"Loki... where did you find that item?" Ego eyed the French player suspiciously.

"That's not important. Can we first focus on Charles and keeping him away from... you know who." Loki begged as he eyed the plushie Charles was busy playing with. Anri and Ego were a little spooked by everything, but nodded their heads. There wasn't much they could do, anyway.

"Sure..."

Well, keeping Charles away from (Y/n) proved to be a task since today of all days she came to practice with Shidou, Rin, Tokimitsu, and Karasu. Loki felt like the universe hated him by now as he watched Karasu and Shidou argue over something, and (Y/n) standing to the side. Loki thankfully didn't fully open the door, so Charles didn't see the (h/c)-haired girl.

"Hm?" The French toddler blinked at Loki, wondering why they didn't enter the room like planned.

"It's nothing.... let's do something else. I have a TV in my room, we can watch some cartoons." Loki smiled nervously as Charles quickly nodded his head. The captain thought that finally luck was on his side, until Karasu and Shidou decided to yell.

"Shut up, you maniac! (Y/n) will be in my team!"

"And I said Goodie two shoes will be my partner, Crow head!"

'Karasu and Shidou... I will make your lives a living hell.' Loki groaned as he saw Charles turn back to the door.

"(Y/n)..."

"You two, please stop arguing. Loki-san already works hard enough, he doesn't need to stop unnecessary fights as well." (Y/n) spoke up softly. The words caused Loki to let out a sigh of relief, at least someone cared.

'Why couldn't he be in my team instead?'Loki groaned as he picked Charles up, noticing the way his eyes widened.

"(Y/n)! (Y/n)-" The midfielder started yelling, but before he could finish another word, Loki took off with him.

"I hate this job sometimes."

It took Loki a good hour to calm Charles down, but after coaxing the boy with cartoons, it eventually worked out.

"I am exhausted.... and it's only 14 o'clock..." The coach of the French stratum groaned to himself, glancing at Charles, who was immersed with some random cartoon that was running on the TV.

"At least he calmed down." Loki smiled softly when a knock was heard.

'Shit...' The boy gulped and slowly got up to the door, making sure not to catch Charles' attention.

"Yes?" Loki asked as he opened his door a little, sighing in relief when he saw it was Tokimitsu.

"Loki-san, the guys and I want to go eat lunch. (Y/n) thought we should invite you as well."

Loki was surprised that someone thought of him joining, especially someone from another team, but he was flattered.

"Oh.. uhm, thanks. But I can't. I am really not hungry." The coach answered, glancing at the distracted Charles.

"Are you sure? You shouldn't skip meals." Tokimitsu said in worry.

"I am not hungry now. Don't worry, ok?" Loki smiled reassuringly, and after a few more minutes Tokimitsu left him alone. Loki closed the door after and loomed back at Charles, who was looking back in confusion.

"Don't worry about it." He smiled, waving his hand.

"Loki-san, are you in there?"

'I knew this was too easy!' Loki cried inwardly as he heard (Y/n)'s voice and her knocking.

"I-I-"

"(Y/n)!!!" Charles yelled as he heard the other midfielder's voice, running towards the door.

"No! Charles!! Come back!" Loki yelled at the boy, who tried to open the door.

"Is that a kid inside? Is everything alright?" (Y/n)'s worried tone made Loki feel guilty as he grabbed onto Charles, pulling him away from the door.

'This toddler weights a ton!'

"I am coming in." (Y/n) warned as she slowly opened the door.

"Shit..." Loki mumbled as the girl walked in slowly, holding a tray of food in her hands.

"I brought you some lunch, in case you are hungry- Who is the kid?" (Y/n)'s eyes slowly widened as she saw Charles, who tried to fight himself out of Loki's grip.

"(Y/n)! (Y/n)! (Y/n)!" Charles chanted with a grin as Loki gulped nervously. (Y/n) closed the door behind herself, looking at Loki in confusion.

"I... I can explain."

"Ok.... Is that a plushie of me?" (Y/n) wondered, noticing the item on the ground.

"I can't explain that."

"So... you have to babysit that bray now?" Kaiser asked in a displeased tone, watching as Charles cuddled up to the girl on the bed.

"Yep." (Y/n) said simply, going through a fairytale book with Chrales.

"Does he have to sleep in your bed?" Ness groaned, trying really hard not to pull Charles away from her.

"It's just for tonight. Loki-san needs some rest." (Y/n) shrugged her shoulders, not noticing Charles sending the German duo a smirk.

'That brat! Who does he think he is?!'

'I will kick his ass on the field!'

[dearharriet]

James potter + “you’re really red right now.” Please 🙏

this one was so fun :3 thank you for requesting! (wc: 679) (cw: blood, mentions of drinking + reader being drunk)

James ushers you further down the dingy hall, doing his damndest to keep you upright. It’s hard to help him with that task when the floor is moving and the lights on a constant strobe.

“This was a terrible idea,” James shouts, his voice nearly lost under slightly disturbing accordion music.

In hindsight, you perhaps had a touch too much to drink, but you’ll never admit it. “Was not.”

As if in retaliation, the floor gives a particularly cruel jerk, sending you sideways.

“Good lord, you’re sloshed.”

“James, it’s not me, it’s the floor!” You let James hoist you up, stalling a moment against a technicolor wall. “It won’t stop moving.”

“It has stopped, you lightweight, that’s what sent you.”

Three teenagers pass you two, laughing and staring, likely interpreting your pause for something it’s not. You give James a strange look before realizing he’s right—you’re perfectly still against the wall now.

“I don’t think I like this funhouse.”

Finally breaking his stony concern, James pulls you back down the corridor, laughing breezily.

“I’m sure you’re having more fun than me, at least.”

Making a face, you hold to his hand at your waist, steadying yourself.

“I didn’ realize it’s a competi-shun,” you slur. James breathes a laugh that you can feel against your neck, but says nothing in response.

Rounding the corner with a toddler’s level of balance, you come upon at least three duplicates of yourself.

“Ohhh,” you groan. “James, I might be more drunk than I thought.”

With a chuckle, James urges you forward. “I’m glad you can admit it, but these are just mirrors, love.”

Somehow, that makes you all the more disoriented, suddenly fighting a new wave of vertigo. James seems to anticipate this, because he shortens his leash on you, holding you mere inches from his chest with a vice grip. He’s muttering to himself bitterly about something you can’t comprehend.

He walks you towards the other pair of you, before diverting to the right, towards yet another mirror.

“James, we can’t go that way.”

“Try not to make this more irritating than it already is, please.”

You tamp down the urge to argue, though you can’t resist pushing out your bottom lip in a pout. James silently steers you through the dizzying maze with growing ease. Eventually, he turns what you expect to be the last corner, and you jerk back like you’ve been shocked.

“Oh my god,” James gasps. “Y/N, I’m so sorry.”

Swaying, you step out of his grip, feeling your face start to ache.

“Are you alright?” James’ voice is distant in your ears, like you’re wearing earmuffs, but his hands holding your upper arms are hot and sharp.

Focusing your double vision on his face, you pull your aching brows together.

“James…”

“Love, I’m sorry.” A ghost of amusement tugs at his lips, but he’s trying hard not to laugh. You’re still so confused, and James’ face…

“You’re really red right now,” you say.

At that, James finally breaks, hanging his head in silent shaking laughter. You’re not sure what’s so funny about it, he’s red from head-to-toe like a cartoon character after eating something spicy. Even his clothes.

“I’m serious!”

James looks at you again, smiling something awful. “I’m sure, pretty girl. You’re red, too.”

Shying, you sniff, your nose oddly runny. Of course you’re red, with James calling you pretty all of a sudden.

“Do you have a crush on me?” you ask dopily, reaching up to grab his muscled forearms.

James’ nodding excites you, but he says, “How about we talk about that when your nose isn’t bleeding.”

You blink. “Is it?”

Instead of answering, James frees a hand from your arms to swipe under your nostril. He shows you, holding up a black-red thumb as evidence.

“Oh. I suppose it has been dry lately.” You take his hand, missing it on you already. “That could be why.”

James sighs, beginning to chaperone you out of the awful mirror maze, toward a daunting set of shifting stairs.

“You’re going to be the death of me, lovey.”

+

thank you for reading! xx

masterlist

join the celebration!

[ch0wen]

Single mom reader x tangerine!!! They meet on the train and he protects the baby and her! Happy ending please 🙏🏼

“Please, Char-Char. Eat something other than those chips,”

You plead with your six-year-old as his stained fingers reach into a bag of barbecue chips. His hand blindly dodges the pre-sliced apples and celery sticks on the table. A divider that separates your seats.

You attempt to move the bag away from him after he ignores you, and this causes him to whine. His tiny hand swats at yours from taking the junk food away. You’re quieting him as you glimpse around the train car. Worried you both will disturb the other passengers on this late-night trip or that this may lead to an outburst of his.

You feel helpless when it comes to managing him. You’re young, on your own, and unsure how to tackle half of the maternal responsibilities. You continually give in to avoid making things worse or because of the pleading looks he makes with his big brown puppy dog eyes. A trait he gets from his father. Unfortunately, they’re both good at using the shared feature to their advantage. Your ex using it for more manipulative means. And you know you need to stick your foot down, or Charlie will never learn. He’ll end up just like his father.

You attempt to sound authoritative, “That’s enough for now.”

Charlie drops his iPad as he grasps for the bag. The tablet tumbles and bounces onto the ground, yanks his earbuds out of the headphone jack, blasting the Spider-Man cartoon he was watching.

“Stop it," He cries.

You're stronger than a child, so you get the crisps out of his hold. You twist it closed and slide it into your tote bag on the empty seat next to you.

“Eat some apples, and then you can have a bit more, okay?”

You lean over to pick up the iPad still lying in the aisle. Breaking the eye contact with your disobedient toddler. A hustling man nearly trips over your arm, but he catches himself. He’s careful not to step on you or the device. After a pause to assess what he narrowly sidestepped, he bends down to meet your hand and pick up the iPad.

“Careful,” his eyes flit around your face. “Here you go, love.”

You feel your cheeks warm at his stare, “thanks.”

You have a moment before hearing the thunderous sound of rushing footsteps. He seized the iPad in both hands and swung it around to slam into the hurried man’s face. With the force of his action, he falls messily into the seat next to Charlie. The other guy is dazed but retrieves a knife as he clambers off the floor. The now-seated, friendly stranger kicks the knife out of his hand. Then punches him in the face in one swooping motion.

Not even seconds after the pursuer fell to the ground, another man ran up the aisle. He scoops up the now unconscious man and gives the seated stranger a salutation before dragging him off.

Now what the hell was all of that? Do they know each other?

With a few blinks, it feels like you just imagined that entire scenario because the car has been cleared out, and the other passengers remain quiet and sleeping. Except that friendly, handsome stranger is still seated across from you. He’s looking sheepish as he tries to steady his breathing,

“Mind if I hang around for a second? Need to catch my breath,"

You confirm he can stay with a bobblehead-type nod.

"That git started shit with us in the front of the train. Pardon my French.”

He jerks slightly in the seat when he finally notices Charlie gaping at him with wide eyes.

“Oi. Sorry mate, I didn’t crash into you, did I?”

Charlie, unbothered and unharmed, continues to stare at this man. You watch his eyes flick down to glimpse at the stranger’s bruised knuckles. Then your boy seemingly recalls the heroic act of violence he witnessed seconds earlier as his eyes dart to the now-empty passageway and back on Tangerine,

“Are you a crime fighter like Spider-Man?”

Tangerine’s lips spread into a smile as he adjusts to face the intrigued child.

》 》 》 》 》 》 》 》 》 》 》

He spent a half hour describing to Charlie these wondrous tales of the adventures he’d been on with his brother. Who, you both learned, is nicknamed Lemon.

Lemon joined in on the storytelling, and sat in the seats across the aisle, halfway through, adding in amusing ad-libs. Charlie laughs at their narrations, and you ponder what happened to the man's body from before.

Thankfully, they censored most of the violence and gore from their tales that they probably got up to. You notice the wonder and amazement lighting up Charlie's eyes. He gazes at what he believes to be the human embodiment of a superhero.

》 》 》 》 》 》

“Hey, treat your mum right, chap. She’s got a long journey with you,” he ghosts his hand over Charlie’s face to mimic the action of pinching his chubby cheeks. He earned a playful squeal from Charlie as he threw his body back into his seat. You beam down at your boy before looking up at Tangerine, who is staring at you ardently before locking eyes. His hand self-consciously rubbed over his flushing cheeks.

He glances towards the doors. Probably expecting that Lemon was going to come barreling in any minute.

“Miss-“

“Y/N.”

“Oh, Y/N. Y/N, listen, why don’t you give me a ring once you’re settled at your destination. I'd like to know if the rest of your trip with Charlie goes well. Without any goons like me bothering you.”

Tangerine leans over and looks to Charlie for permission before tearing off a small piece of his ditched coloring page. He scribbles out a number using a purple crayon and skates it across the table to you.

“If you'd like, of course," He smiles bashfully before rising and smoothing out his suit.

You grin back, now craning your neck to maintain eye contact with him, “I will.”

[kisses-from-crows]

Crossed Wires - Campbell Bain - Ch. 5

Pairing: Radio Host!Campbell Bain/Popstar!femReader

Summary: After the media fiasco from the day before, Campbell just wants to go to work and forget about it. But nothing is ever that easy.

Genre: enemies to lovers, slow burn, modern au, reader insert, forced proximity, misunderstandings, fluff, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 2,882

Warnings: Swearing, Daddy Issues

Chapter 5: Digging a hole

Beginning | Previous | Next

E!: Do we hear wedding bells? Rodger Del Ray Jr., future CEO of DreamLight Records, has announced his engagement to actress-turned-singer Penelope Taylor after a year of dating. Congratulations to the happy couple!

Posted: 2 weeks ago

Sunlight streamed through Campbell Bain’s bedroom window, spraying little rainbows across the wall as it got caught in the prism hanging from his window. It had been a gift sent to him by Rosalie about two Christmases ago. The light shining in his eyes gently forced him awake. He yawned and stretched out his unusually sore body. He rolled over and buried his face into the pillow.

Similar shuffling noises came from the unusually warm phone that sat unplugged beside him. He blinked a few times to clear the blurriness from his eyes. After a few failed attempts at reading, he finally made out the words on the screen:

ITS THE DEVIL’S HENCHMAN; DINNAE ANSWER IT

Time Elapsed – 10 Hours 34 Minutes 25 Seconds

Campbell stared at his own confused reflection in his phone screen for several long seconds as his sleep-addled brain struggled to catch up with reality. In that time, Y/N groaned tiredly on the other end. Y/N… Phone… Morning? What was that? Ah, it was reality, right on time to smack him upside the head with a steel chair.

He never hung up last night. She never hung up last night. They never… well you get the point. He shot out of bed instantly, as though a fire had been lit underneath him, scrambling away from the phone like it was a ticking time bomb.

Campbell paced anxiously around his bed, floorboards squeaking beneath him as he planned his next move. Maybe he could just hang up the phone and she would never realize how long the call was. Who checks their call logs anyway? But, what if the sound of him ending the call woke her up? And then she would know. Even worse than that, she would know that he knew. And then the world would end, obviously.

The sounds of Campbell’s stomach growling drowned out the irrational argument he was having alone in his head. Maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t exactly thinking straight. With a deep breath and a clenched fist, he ended the call. He waited with bated breath, staring at the black screen sitting ominously on the bed.

When a large cartoon anvil didn’t drop from the sky and crush him through the floor, he figured he was safe. Hopefully, she wouldn’t notice, and they could go on as if nothing had happened. Well, nothing had happened really. They just fell asleep on a call, that’s all. It doesn’t mean anything. They had a long day and accidentally fell asleep. On the phone. Together.

There was a distinct thud beneath him. Likely his downstairs neighbor hitting the ceiling with her broom, not so subtly telling him to stop pacing. This was a common occurrence.

It was a completely innocuous thing, falling asleep on the phone like that. But Campbell couldn’t quite shake the odd feeling in his stomach… probably just indigestion. Right, that made the most sense. Never mind the fact that it was the best night's sleep he’d had in months. He bent down to the floor and knocked twice to acknowledge his neighbor’s complaint. Sore legs carried him unwillingly to the kitchen for some slightly burnt toast and coffee.

Eddie always said Campbell drinking coffee was like giving cocaine to a toddler. Which Campbell found amusing if not slightly insulting. But a cup of coffee in the morning was obligatory now. He had developed the habit during his first year in New York. Back when he had his very first show in the States. It was a show he co-hosted in a small station, filling in the 2 a.m. to 5 a.m. time slot. Just a throwaway assignment designed to fill the dead air, but to Campbell that show meant everything. It meant he had finally made it. It meant that of all the time and energy he had poured into the radio station back at St. Jude’s was worth the heartache. Hell, it even meant his father was wrong about him.

Campbell wondered if his dad knew just how successful he had become. Or if Campbell’s name had become as unspeakable in that house as his bipolar disorder. Or his ‘condition’ as they called it. The moment he announced his plan to move to the State, his father decided he was on his own.

“Don’t come crying to me and yer ma when this daft scheme of yers goes up in flames.” had been his father’s exact words if he remembered correctly. And he did. The words had seared themselves to the inside of his skull. The point of no return.

To say Campbell had missed his father would be a lie. But that didn’t stop him from wishing things could be different. To hear from his father that Campbell knew what he was doing all along. That he was proud of him. Campbell knew it was a dream, something akin to wishing on stars. He was never going to get that satisfaction, but it didn’t matter. He’d made his own family, made his own way in the world. Sometimes blood was simply that… blood.

It had been far too long since he’d called Eddie McKenna. Campbell made a mental note to give him a call soon. He filled it away in his brain along with all the other things he was likely to forget.

He munched on his lightly blackened and over buttered toast, grabbing his phone to scroll absentmindedly until it was time for work. The hope had been that the mindless serotonin machine that was social media would distract him from the fiasco with Y/N yesterday and the phone call incident this morning. Instead, he was confronted with an onslaught of tabloids speculating on the nature of their relationship and discovered that he had become a meme.

The picture of a rather panicked Campbell peering over the side of a building had caught the interest of many young people with big imaginations. Who had started photoshopping Campbell into random places: teacups, airplanes, space, peeking over the edge of the trenches in a World War I photograph. You name it, he was there. “Campbell Bain in places he shouldn’t be.” They called it.

While seeing himself plastered across time and space was a particular type of disturbing, he had to admit, some of them were pretty funny. Someone had quite alarmingly edited him into a guillotine. ‘Y/N would like this one.’ The thought passed as quickly as it came, slipped right through the grasp of his consciousness like a leaf in the wind.

Campbell finished up his breakfast and got dressed for work. Over the last 2-3 years, he had worked hard to secure the prime-time spot for the station. From 2pm to 6pm every weekday, Campbell Bain had his own radio show. Comforting the huddled masses stuck in rush hour traffic.

In a flash, he was out the door, bundled up in a comfortable hoodie with his chunky headphones covering his ears. Music blasting, he made his way to the subway. A part of him missed the simplicity of the old Glasgow railway but there was just something about the hustle of New York that agreed with him. At least, that’s what he would’ve said three years ago. These days, it was beginning to wear on him.

Campbell Bain had become a household name years ago. Around the time Y/N and Campbell had their fourth interview together. That had been the most vicious of them all, not counting their very last interview before Y/N’s disappearance. He could picture the second it all went to hell like it was yesterday.

He had delivered some jab about her lyrics being generic and expected. The moment the mood shifted from school-yard taunts to an all-out war was palpable. Y/N cocked her head to the side and narrowed her eyes. Under her piercing gaze, Campbell had never felt so exposed. Her eyes scanning his being as if assessing his greatest weaknesses like the Terminator. Before she even opened her mouth, he knew he was going to regret whatever it was that he just said. With a wicked grin, she delivered a blow that hit him right between the gaps in his armor, and he just lost it. That night when he went home, he stared at his ceiling without blinking. The harsh conversation playing over and over in his head. It wasn’t the first time in those seven years that Campbell couldn’t recognize himself. Nor was it wasn’t the last.

Lost in the flow of the music and his own mind, Campbell nearly missed his stop. He squeezed past tourists and commuters alike, against the human current flooding into the overcrowded subway car. As he stepped onto the busy sidewalk above ground, he marveled at the skyscrapers towering above him. Only a few short years ago, all these buildings felt so much taller. Stone giants, so shiny and full of promise. Now they just felt like walls closing in on him.

Campbell pushed his way through the revolving doors of the radio station. The interior had changed a lot since DreamLight Records had bought the station, just a year after Campbell had signed a contract with them. Nearly eight years ago now. It wasn’t so bad at first, working for them. But slowly over time, things got more and more strict. All these different rules about dress code and what music they could play. He didn’t care much for being told what to do. So, he made himself utterly indispensable, the biggest name to grace what was once a small station. Now he could pretty much do anything he wanted. Well, almost anything.

Campbell got settled in his cushy leather chair with his mug of coffee and looked over the available catalog for the day. It was a list of artists all signed under DreamLight Records. Around year three, DreamLight’s CEO, Rodger Del Ray Sr., announced that the station could only play music written, produced, owned, or approved by the DreamLight Record label. They claimed it was to “promote their brand”. Campbell thought it was a load of shite, but they signed his paychecks, so he kept quiet… mostly. Well, quiet for him at least.

He took a long swig from his Bugs Bunny mug as he picked out a few of his favorites to start out the day, deciding to sort through the rest as he went along. Campbell worked best in a flow state, planning it all out just wasn’t his style. The tech guys outside the sound booth held up five fingers. Five seconds until he was live. He cleared his throat and chugged some water, best to keep the instrument clear.

5… 4... 3… 2… 1. “HELLLLLOOOOOO AND WELCOMEEEEE. If yae are just tuning in, yae are right on time for the Loony Tunes show with Campbell Bain. I am your designated loony for this afternoon, Campbell Bain.” He fell into the character like a second skin. It was a part of him. At least it had been, once upon a time. Now it just felt like a costume. The grandiose announcer thriving off the undivided attention of the general public.

Campbell played his first few queued up songs and began wracking his brain over what to play next. Deft fingers flitted over the song choices till they came to a pause at a familiar name. F/N L/N… it was a track from her third album. As much as he loathed to admit it, he actually quite liked this particular tune. Something about the way the drum kicks and cymbal sizzles emphasized the emotion in her voice made his chest go tight. He used to listen to it alone in his room and think about his father. All the rage he felt, all the disappointment, the yearning he had for his father’s approval even to this day. But that was a secret he planned to take to the grave. And when he met Fergus wherever he was going, his lips would remain sealed.

He queued up the song before his brain even recognized what his hands were doing. Campbell’s eyes widened as he watched the track go into the lineup of songs. He scrambled to fix his mistake, mouse clicking furiously. But it was too late. With nothing else to play, the channel began broadcasting a 4-year-old deep cut from Y/N’s third album. Campbell swore silently and slid dramatically from his chair onto the floor. This was not good.

Of all the ridiculously dumb things he could’ve done, this had to be one of the stupidest. If the media frenzy over their near escape yesterday had been bonfire, Campbell had just thrown gallon of gasoline on it. Plus a few fireworks for good measure.

As Campbell laid curled up under his desk, the beginning chords of the song floated through the air. He felt sick to his stomach. This was disaster. Even worse, it was downright embarrassing, he had a certain reputation to uphold after all. Maybe if he just hid down here for a while, his slip of a finger and the consequences that would soon follow might just disappear. His phone buzzed in his pocket, it’s from the tech crew. The message read: ???.

Campbell crawled out from under the desk, limbs getting tangled in the wires of the headphones. After nearly faceplanting in the well-worn carpet he managed to right himself on top of his chair with all the grace of a newborn giraffe. An awkward thumbs up to the guys on the mixer and he pretended to go on as usual. As if nothing had happened.

The song picked up around the second chorus bringing in loud baselines and a few subtle strings over top of it. The build of the instrumentals matched the intensity of her vocals as she sang about feeling alone in a crowded room and being desperate for the approval of those who could never see her. The lyrics were vague enough to be widely relatable but still cut deep. In a few measures, Campbell’s favorite part of the song was coming. The music reached a fever pitch before ending abruptly as if the entire band ceased to exist when they were giving it their all just moments before. The end left the listener feeling like they had the rug ripped out from under them. It suited the tone of the song so well.

So, maybe Campbell liked this song a little. His head bobbed to the beat of its own accord. Okay, more than a little. But after 6 studio albums she was bound to create one song he liked. Even a broken clock was right twice a day.

Campbell let the music fade out and hoped the mistake would pass without acknowledgement from the press. As 4 o’clock rolled around, it was time for requests. Loony Tunes had an hour-long segment where listeners could compete to request a song.

With every call and every right answer, Campbell was bombarded with question after question about Y/N. What were they doing together yesterday? Is she releasing a new album? Are you guys dating? Why did you play a Y/N song? Is that a secret message? Why were you two on a roof?

Mind you, Campbell Bain can bullshit with the best of them. Lie his way out of a hole in the ground. But at this moment, he had no explanation. Not one single line concocted to get him out of this mess. Because the truth was, he didn’t know the answers either. Questions swirled around his head; he was more confused now than he was before. It seemed his meeting with Y/N had only brought more questions. It had also unfortunately chucked him like a rag doll straight into the rumor mill.

Another buzz emitted from his phone from a contact labelled: Boss Baby. Oh god, it was Rodger Del Ray Jr., Y/N’s former fiancé. The text cryptically read: “You’re dead, Bain.”

Well, that much was clear already. Anxiety boiled over in the pit of his stomach and wrapped a hand around his throat. He had to find a way out of this. Maybe he should reach out and tell Y/N the interview was off. He wanted no part of whatever mess he’d found himself in. But even as he tried to convince himself that it wasn’t too late to walk away, curiosity gnawed at him like a dog with a bone.

As the last half an hour of the show rolled around, Campbell decided to take matters into his own hands. He pulled his phone out of the back pocket of his jeans. It was full of notifications, endless links to new articles claiming to have the inside scoop on Y/N’s new Scottish beau. The memory of waking up next to her on the phone flooded his overactive mind as he pulled up her contact. Passively, he wondered if he should change her name in his phone. He typed up and deleted ten different messages before settling on:

“We need to talk.”

A breath later, a buzz.

“I couldn’t agree more.”

_________________________________________________

Next Chapter

A/N: sorry this is more of a filler this week, everybody at work got sick so i was working a lot more than i expected. i promise next week we’ll get some good drama in there. also i don’t know why it didn’t occur to me when i wanted to write a popstar!au that eventually i would have to make up fake music. don’t worry i’m not gonna try to write a song that would be a disaster. just gonna stick to describing the vibe lol. - Ducky

[south-of-heaven]

Brandi Rhodes x Fem!Rhodes!Twin!Reader where she and cody are on good terms and divorced and brandi thinks she may be gay and have feelings for reader so while reader babysits Libby she comes back and talks to her?

Talk || Brandi Rhodes x Reader

Summary: Cody refuses to tell you why he and Brandi got divorced. Brandi comes clean when you're watching Libby at her place.

As you sat on the couch with Libby, her little eyes glued to the colorful cartoon playing on the TV, you couldn't help but marvel at how adorable she was. Cody and Brandi's two-year-old daughter had a smile that could light up any room, and babysitting her was always a joy.

The sound of the front door opening drew your attention. It was Brandi, returning home from her errands. She greeted you with a warm smile, and you returned it, grateful for the chance to spend time with Libby.

After a quick exchange of pleasantries, Brandi leaned in closer and whispered, "Can we talk in the kitchen?"

Nodding, you gently patted Libby's head and told her you'd be right back. The toddler seemed content with her cartoon, giving you a small wave.

In the kitchen, Brandi seemed a bit nervous, her eyes flickering with uncertainty. You couldn't help but wonder what was on her mind as you leaned against the counter, waiting for her to speak.

She took a deep breath, her gaze finally meeting yours. "I need to talk to you about something," she began, her voice soft but resolute.

You furrowed your brows, concern washing over you. "Of course, Brandi. What's going on?"

Brandi hesitated for a moment before she started to open up, her words coming out slowly. "I know Cody won't tell you why we got divorced. It's because I told him he can't, I just needed time to figure out how to tell you."

You nodded you head for her to continue, a bit surprised by the sudden shift in conversation. Cody had always been tight-lipped about the details, insisting that it was Brandi's story to share.

Brandi sighed, running a hand through her hair. "The truth is, I realized I'm attracted to women, and it was something I couldn't ignore any longer. It was the reason behind our divorce."

The revelation hung in the air for a moment as you processed what she had just said. It explained why Cody had been so evasive, wanting to respect Brandi's privacy in a sensitive matter like this.

Brandi continued, her voice steady but tinged with emotion. "And, well, I need to be honest with you about something else. I have feelings for you, too. I've had them for a long time, and I didn't know how to deal with it."

You blinked in surprise, the weight of her words sinking in. Brandi had kept a significant part of her identity hidden for so long, and she had chosen this moment to share it with you. It was a lot to take in.

"You... you have feelings for me?" you finally managed to stammer.

Brandi nodded, her eyes searching yours for a reaction. "Yes, I do. And I understand if this is too much, too soon. I just needed to be honest with you."

You couldn't deny the shock of the revelation, but you also recognized the courage it took for Brandi to confess her feelings and her truth. It was clear that she had been carrying this burden for a long time.

"Thank you for telling me," you said sincerely, reaching out to place a reassuring hand on her arm. "I appreciate your honesty, Brandi."

She smiled weakly, her shoulders relaxing as she let out a sigh of relief. "I just didn't want any secrets between us. And I understand if this changes things between us."

You considered her words for a moment, thinking about your own feelings and the connection you had with Brandi. While it was a lot to process, you knew one thing for sure—Brandi's courage had opened the door to a new chapter in both of your lives, one filled with honesty and the potential for something beautiful.

[punkpoemprose]

Babysitters- A Kristanna Oneshot

Universe: Modern AU Rating: T (Minor curse, shameless attraction) Length: 3558 Words Summary: Kristoff and Anna both wind up as babysitters on the whims of two young girls. They find out that despite being near strangers, they have an incredible amount in common. A/N: Yes this is a meet cute based on the double babysitter episode of Bluey. Yes the plot and a good chunk of the dialog are wholesale stolen from the cartoon dog show for toddlers. Those writers are geniuses and I will not apologize.

Anna was still trying to figure out how exactly she’d gotten herself into such a uniquely odd, yet pleasant situation. 

“You can ask us anything you’d like, and that way you can get to know us better,” she suggested to the two little girls before her, happy to be able to give them a way to feel a little more comfortable in their new situation. Afterall, it’s not everyday you wind up with not just one new babysitter, but two, and to have to be put to bed by the pair of them.

“It’s easy,” Kristoff agreed. 

Kristoff was the aforementioned second babysitter and the uncle of the little girls before them. She couldn’t help but think that he was a bit attractive, but she tried not to dwell on it given she was there to give her attention to the girls. She was there to watch them as a good friend of their mother. In fact she was the older girl’s godmother, or “fairy godmother” as she liked to put it. She had frequently spent time with the girls, but this was her first time watching them without their mom hanging out. 

“Why don’t you have a wife?”

Ooof. 

She was not expecting a six year old to come out with such a hardball question out of the gate, and she was glad that she was not in the crosshairs. She hoped that maybe their questions would lighten up. 

“How do you know that I don’t?”

Oh geeze, I was just thinking about how cute another woman’s husband is. 

“Do you have a wife?”

She saw the man start to flush and she knew the answer before he spoke it, a comfort to her moral compass, she supposed. 

“Well… no.”

“Oh, okay, then why don’t you have a wife.”

He pointed to Anna and said, “Oh no, can’t answer more than a couple in a row, it’s her turn.”

Only marginally less attractive when he’s shoving me under the bus. 

The younger girl nodded, as if her uncle’s insistence on sharing was admirable. 

 “How many friends have you got?” 

Anna blinked for a moment, not sure how to respond, and then counted the friends she could think to name on her fingers. 

Their mom, Elsa, Elsa’s girlfriend…

She struggled to come up with anyone else, decided that she could not, shrugged and said, “Three.”

“That’s not many.”

“Why do you only have three friends?”

Children are brutal.

“Well, uh…back to him.”

Two could play at that game. 

“Why do we only see you at Christmas?”

The girls looked both genuine in their curiosity, and a bit sad. Clearly they want to see their Uncle Kristoff more often… I would like to see their Uncle Kristoff more often.

“Because I was working up in Alaska. I might be getting a new job now though.”

He seemed a little more relaxed by this line of questioning, and while they were not touching, Anna swore she could feel the man sitting at her side relaxing. 

“Is that why you don’t have a wife?”

He looked surprised when Anna snuck a peek at him out of the corner of her eye. 

So much for any hope at easy questions. 

“Huh,” he paused for a moment, “Probably actually.”

“Why does your hair look so pretty?”

“Almondmilk shampoo.”

She was surprised to hear him saying the same thing at the same time. She assumed the girls had been asking her, and he, clearly, had assumed the same. 

She saw his surprised look and she was certain that he would see it mirrored in her expression.

“Do you want any kids?”

“Yes,” she answered, hearing him echo the statement, and not being wholly sure why she’d looked at him while she answered.

“Will Hans be the daddy?”

Ouch. Back to hardball. 

“Oh, no… Hans and I aren’t friends anymore.”

She was over it, over him, but it still hurt when she had thought that he would have been her future. Explaining the terrible things he’d done to her in a way that children could understand was something she did not have in her tonight, and frankly they didn’t deserve to have their worldview turned so grim just yet. 

She thought of her sister and herself at the girls’ ages and took a deep breath. 

What I wouldn’t give to be so young and happy and naive again. 

“Who’s Hans?” Kristoff asked at her side, and she couldn’t help but note the genuine curiosity in his voice. She wondered if he had seen the split second of discomfort she’d let show on her face. 

“No one. Next question!”

She didn’t have it in her to explain to him either. She didn’t owe him the explanation, even if she thought that maybe he’d be nice to talk to.

“Hans in her true love!” 

She shook her head, trying to retain her composure and keep her tone light. “Not anymore!” 

The little girls looked crestfallen. They’d only met the man once, and while she wished she didn’t have to, she wanted to let them keep their good memory of him from the day they’d spent in the park together. 

“But true love is forever!”

Gosh I wish. 

“Well, uh…”

“Is true love not forever?” 

The littler girl asked the question with tears in her eyes and Anna thought that if she started to cry, she might too.

“It is! Or… at least I thought it was.”

“Okay,” Kristoff interjected, clearly seeing that Anna was not about to dig herself out of this hole, “Let’s play in the backyard!”

***

Kristoff had forgotten exactly how brutal children could be in their lines of interrogation. His nieces had certainly taken after their father in that regard. The older boy had asked about a million hard and invasive questions of him when his parents had adopted him. It had all turned out well in the end because he loved his brother, he loved his family, and he loved the girls, but he had the sense that Anna hadn’t quite realized what she’d signed up for by offering to let the girls play twenty questions.

When he’d noticed just how sad she looked about the girls asking about Hans, whoever the asshole was, he had been only all too happy to encourage some outdoor activity. He hoped that she would take all the time she needed to collect herself while he had the girls outside, but he could already tell that she was better at taking care of others than she was at taking care of herself. It was obvious from the way she let herself get hurt by the girls questions, just to let them ask them as promised. 

She was far too beautiful to look so sad, and if he ever thought that she might like to hear such a thing from him, he’d happily share it. After the kids were to bed of course. 

“Can you play the same games as mom and dad?”

“Sure,” he answered, recalling at least some of the games that he had played with his brother as a child, assuming that they couldn’t be all that different. “What do they play?”

“Chicken rat!”

“Wha-?”

This is what happens when you assume.

“Come here and go away!”

He shook his head, wondering if his nieces were speaking another language suddenly. He knew what the words normally meant, but he could not imagine what they might mean in the form of a children’s game. 

“You don’t need the same games.”

Anna’s voice came from behind him, her flip flops making soft sounds on the wooden porch stairs as she approached him and tugged his keys from his back pocket.

What is she doing?

He was too stunned to ask, he just jumped at the contact and watched as she masterfully taught both girls a new game using the emergency flashlight on his keyring. 

He would have applauded Anna’s genius, if he weren’t too tired chasing the light around the yard like a cat with her. 

At one point in the game she’d pounced upon him, following the girl’s light, and it had taken all of his strength to not wrap his arms around her and hold her to him. 

 ***

Anna smiled as Kristoff held his niece’s feet up to the ceiling and let her walk across it like they were living in an MC Escher drawing. They were supposed to be finishing getting the girls washed up for bedtime, but clearly Kristoff was a fun uncle for whom timelines were less important than fun. She’d always thought of what it would be like to be a mom like that one day. She always imagined being the sort of mom that let her kids explore anything that they wanted, to help them grow into the people they wanted to be instead of what society expected of them.

I could be that with Kristoff. 

She shook the thought from her mind and, to the best of her ability, helped the younger girl onto the ceiling. 

“Ooof, you’re heavier than I remember.”

The little girl giggled and played with her sister on the ceiling for a moment, until her weight became too much for Anna to bear holding and she collapsed to the floor, landing the little girl on her lap.  

“How about a story girls,” Anna offered, “Run along to bed and we’ll be in in just a minute.”

After I catch my breath.

Kristoff, for his part, much more gracefully lowered his older niece to the floor and offered her a hand up, not immediately releasing it when she was standing, which made her heart do a little flip in her chest. 

“Thank you,” she said, and he just smiled in response.

She could hardly move her eyes away from his chocolate brown ones until he offered her hand a little knowing squeeze and walked with her to the girls room for a story. 

***

Kristoff nearly laughed himself as he dramatically “slayed” the girls stuffed dragon and climbed to the top bunk of their bed where Anna, the “princess” was clearly awaiting his valourous return from battle.

“Princess, I have rescued you, and now we shall marry.”

She made a face, and he wondered for a moment if he had overstepped, even in their game of pretend. It was of course, all show for the girls, but he thought back to all the earlier uncomfortable talk of true love and hoped that he hadn’t upset Anna, particularly because he was really beginning to like her. 

It was impossible not to of course. She was funny, smart, and gorgeous. If he never saw her again her fiery red hair and beautiful smile would haunt him until the day he died. To make matters worse, it was clear to him that she loved his nieces, and probably kids in general. He’d never really dated much or had given much thought to who his perfect person would be, but now she was sitting in front of him, wearing a princess crown, and turning her head away.

“And then the princess said, ‘no thanks!’”

Her smirk and wink did things to him that he would not be allowing himself to think about until he was at least a week out from babysitting. It was that indecent. 

“What?”

His response was honest as the girls giggled to themselves from below. 

“She just didn’t like the look of him.”

The girls exploded into greater laughter, and it was all he could do to not laugh himself. He mocked taking it personally, but couldn’t help but wonder if maybe a small part of her was being serious.  

“Why not?”

 “Well his hair was messy and he was a bit too muscly. You know what I mean kids?”

The girls, on queue, laughed with glee, happy to be included. 

“Well wait a minute,” he replied, noticing the way that her eyes hung a bit appreciatively on the arm he was hanging onto the bunk bed ladder by. 

Too muscly my ass. 

“I defeat the dragon, take it back to my castle, and we get married. I’ve read the stories. That’s just business.”

“Well,” Anna replied with a dramatic wave of her hand, “I didn’t ask to be rescued.”

“So you just want to stay here? With the stinky dragon?”

He could imagine all the fun they could get into together. She was funny, she was trouble, and while he normally avoided trouble, he could imagine just how good trouble could be with her. 

“I’m getting used to him.”

Kristoff grinned, letting go of the ladder and walking back down to the stuffed dragon. He raised his eyebrow to Anna in challenge, “Well then, I’ll just wake him up for you and-”

He didn’t even reach his hand all that close to the stuffed creature before Anna responded to his challenge. “No, wait!”

“I thought so.”

The girls were in hysterics now, clearly enjoying their bit of pantomime, and Kristoff had to give it to Anna, she was certainly making things more interesting. 

She did look almost sad for a moment when she glanced down at the “slain” stuffy.

“She knew it, princes are all the same.”

Kristoff wondered, for a moment, if all the “princes” she knew had taken away her choices. He wanted to ask, but now was not the time.

“No we’re not,” he replied, “There are good princes and bad princes.”

“Which one was he?” 

One of the girls asked the question, the other waiting with bated breath, the apparent drama of it all being enough to stop the giggles from allowing them to speak for the time being. 

“He’s a good one, he rescued the princess.”

“Only because he likes slaying dragons,” Anna replied, “Tomorrow he’ll be off in search of another princess.”

The girls looked to him again, in rapt attention to hear his response, but all he had was, “This is a tough princess to rescue, he’ll probably be at it a long time and then he’ll be happy to never rescue one again.”

He kept his tone light, the girls giggled again, but Anna got the message and her small smile was more than he could have ever dreamed of seeing leveled at him.

“Well while the prince figures it out, the Princess is going to read a good book and live happily ever after. The end!”

The girls disapproval was immediate, and Kristoff was taken as off guard as Anna clearly was. She was looking down at the girls in surprise as they called up to her.

“That can’t be the end. In mom and dad’s stories, they always get married in the end.”

Kristoff, looking to Anna again, shrugged. 

“Princess?”

Anna’s lip quirked into a smirk for a moment before she put back on her “too cool for this” princess expression and announced, “Okay fine.”

She jumped from the top bunk of the bed, gave the girls a fleeting “don’t jump on or off of your beds” look and continued her story. 

“For the sake of the children, they both get married,” she crossed the space between them and linked her arm through his, smiling as she added with finality, “the end.”

The girls cheered and were, somewhat easily, guided to bed after the story’s conclusion. 

***

Anna tucked in her goddaughter and smoothed the hair from the little girl’s eyes with the side of her hand. 

“Goodnight sweetie,” she said, and was about to walk away and turn off the lights when the little girl caught her attention again. 

She looked a little bit stressed, which worried Anna. The last thing she wanted was for either of the girls to be uncomfortable or upset. 

“Anna, can you not watch tv after you put us to bed?”

Anna was confused for a moment.

“Sure sweetie, I won’t if you don’t want me to.”

“Wait a minute,” Kristoff said, crossing the room where his youngest niece was already out snoring.

“Was your last babysitter Grandma?”

“Yeah,” the little girl admitted, “She had the TV on really loud and I had a hard time sleeping and she was watching something scary.”

“Oh, sorry bug,” Kristoff said, squeezing the little girl’s hand where it laid on top of the comforter. 

Anna couldn’t help but smile at the way Kristoff was comforting the little girl.

“Mom doesn’t hear as well as she used to these days,” he said, letting Anna in on what he clearly knew but was news to her, “She has the tv and radio on too loud if she doesn’t have her hearing aids in.”

He turned back to the little girl.

“Don’t worry, this won’t be anything like that, it was just the one time.”

The little girl still looked upset and Anna covered Kristoff’s hand with her own for extra support.

“How can I know that it won’t ever be like that again?”

Anna took this one, knowing full well from her own childhood that living in fear of things going wrong was a surefire way for a childhood to be spent alone and sad. 

“You don’t, but you have to give it a try. Otherwise you end up in a tower with a stinky dragon forever.”

She thought that Kristoff was smiling, even though she couldn’t see his face. 

“Okay,” she said, snuggling into her blankets seeming a bit apprehensive, but willing to make an attempt, “I’ll try.”

“That’s my girl.”

***

When the girls were asleep, Kristoff invited Anna out onto the balcony outside their room. He figured that it would be far enough away that if they whispered, they wouldn’t wake them, but it was also close enough where if the girls woke up and needed them, they would be right there. 

They were sitting on the ground together, and Kristoff wished that he could take the risk to wake the girls to at least get her a chair. It would be the good princely thing to do after all, but Anna seemed perfectly content to sit next to him.

“I don’t care for the conditioner,” she said, and Kristoff thought that despite the fact that he would describe himself as being not all that much of a people person, he would happily talk with Anna about her ever opinion or thought, even as mundane as haircare, for the rest of his life. 

“I agree, it’s not nearly as good as the shampoo. They also put out that body wash for a bit and it was awful.”

Anna nodded sagely as if he’d just offered her an extremely important opinion about an earth shattering concept for which she was fully in agreement. He’d decided from the start that he liked the way her face showed her thoughts honestly. He’d never been amazing at communicating with others, but she wore her feelings on her sleeve and he could appreciate the way it made her easy to talk with. 

“I know, it was horrible. I tried using it after the gym once and I just smelled like sweat and cherries. I hate wasting things because some people would be so happy to have something that I don’t need, but gosh I just threw the whole bottle out because no one should use a body wash that bad.”

Kristoff almost laughed, but managed for the sake of the sleeping girls in the next room over, to turn it into a low chuff.

“They shouldn’t have been able to call it a body wash at all. Maybe a body smell or something?”

“In shower terrible perfume?” she asked, clearly of the same opinion and happy to run with the joke, “Really they needed to stay in their lane and just focus on improving their conditioner.”

He smiled at her, and did his best not to let his hand catch hers when she stretched her back and her hand slid toward him, brushing against him for a moment. 

“Have you found a good one yet?”

“What bodywash? Yeah, but I don’t think you’d want to use it, it’s sugar cookie scented.”

 He responded before thinking, “No, I figured, you smell like warm vanilla, it’s nice.”

He flushed and hoped that the dark of the night was stronger than the girls nightlights so she couldn’t see him blushing. 

“I, uh, meant conditioner.”

She smiled, and he knew that she could see him blushing.

“No, not yet. Maybe we could find something together?”

He turned his head to look at her and thought, in the darkness of the space, that he saw her blushing too.

“Like… do you mean like a date?”

She shrugged, and he realized the her hair and her face, in the darkness, were approaching the same shade. She was certainly blushing. 

“I guess, yeah?”

He did laugh then, and was grateful in the silence that followed that neither of the girls had appeared to have awoken from his over loud expression of amusement.  

“Well, sure. But maybe I can take you out to coffee first? Maybe in the morning after my brother gets home? I think it might make for a better first date than grocery shopping.”

Anna grinned at him and he couldn’t help but return the look, grateful for his brother and sister in law’s accidentally requesting two babysitters at once. 

“It’s a date.”

When he let his hand catch hers, she gladly held it.  

[irondad-defensesquad]

You get to exhale now

Also posted on AO3!

This was originally sillier, but it grew deeper. There's nothing too heavy about it, it ends well! However:

TRIGGER WARNING - discussions of acephobia and biphobia.

DO NOT SHIP PETER AND TONY. P/ROSHIP DNI.

--

Peter has been planning this in his head for quite a while. The right time comes when he aces his last test, and a cartoon light bulb pops above his head.

He’s holding the paper in his hands and wearing clothes colored for the occasion. His stomach reacts with anxiety, which is not necessarily dread. He’s more than sure that Tony will be fine with Peter not being straight. The teen just wonders if his mentor even knows what asexuality is.

Peter has only come out to Aunt May and Ned for now, and obviously, they’re both okay with it. Ned already knew about asexuality, but even if May didn’t, she didn’t see anything “unnatural” or “odd” about it. Peter sometimes finds his aunt reading articles about asexuality probably to learn more. Seeing this, he thought Tony could know, too. In fact, Peter told May and Ned that he wanted to tell Tony as well. They encouraged him, but they also reassured Peter that he doesn’t need to come out to him or anyone if he doesn’t feel safe. But Peter does feel safe around Tony. He can be himself when they spend time together.

Even then, his mind already catastrophizes everything, no matter how unrealistic it is. Peter doesn’t expect to be kicked out or anything, but the last thing he wants is for his identity to be dismissed. Peter also has this in mind considering how Tony is, well, a playboy. Or used to be. It’s strange knowing this while Peter is sex-repulsed. What is Tony going to think about that?

The trip upstate feels too long and too short at the same time. Peter is bouncing his legs, trying his hardest not to crush the test with his hand. And now that he’s finally here, the anxiety increases. Happy even asks him if he’s okay, when the driver usually stays silent. Peter just says he’s excited to see Tony, which is half true. Fortunately, Happy doesn’t question him anymore.

Peter finds Tony in the kitchen this time. He’s kind of relieved about that, because he doesn’t want to get in the way of Tony’s work.

“Hey, kid!” The man greets. He hums. “I like the palette you’re going for today.”

He really just notices everything. “Y-Yeah, hey, Mr. Stark,” Peter chuckles. He hates that his hands are trembling.

“What’s up?”

“Ah, um…”

Peter mostly stares down at his paper, the A+ facing him, telling him to go for it. Tony waits.

“I… aced my Spanish test.”

“Oh, that’s great, kid!” Tony sounds happy for him, even though he probably wonders why Peter is so nervous to give this kind of news. “We’re definitely gonna celebrate, your pick.”

“A-Awesome, thanks.”

Why can’t he just say it?

“Is… there anything else you wanna tell me, Pete?”

To Peter, it’s obvious. He’s wearing black, gray, white, and purple clothes. He has the black ring on his middle finger. He aced his test. He’s basically a walking pride flag, but of course, Tony might know anything and Peter is just looking too pathetic. He’s probably not real to him.

He gulps and opens his mouth.

“I’m… I-I’m asexual, okay?” Peter sounds defeated.

Maybe Tony doesn’t know the term either.

But his mentor gasps.

“Oooooh! That’s why I was recognizing the colors. And the black ring, too. Sorry I didn’t catch the hints at first, kid.”

Peter blinks, perplexed. “What? You- You actually know what asexuality is?”

“Yes, of course.”

Of course? “Seriously?”

“You think I live under a rock?” Tony teases, not sounding annoyed.

Whoa, okay. That’s so weird. Of all people, he never imagined Tony Stark to know what asexual is.

“And… you’re okay with… me being asexual?” Peter asks like he’s a toddler wanting approval.

Tony’s smirk fades. “Why wouldn’t I be?” His voice softens a lot.

There are a lot of reasons Peter could list, but he just shrugs. He already knew Tony would be okay, and considering Peter doesn’t have to pull the slide presentation he made, he should be happy, right? Why isn’t he, then?

Why does he feel stupid?

Tony sighs. “Alright, come here, kiddo.” He stretches out an arm, inviting Peter.

The boy complies, so Tony wraps an arm around him and he guides them both to the couch. The man still respects Peter’s space while letting him know it’s okay.

“First off, I’m glad you told me. I’m relieved that you feel safe around me to come out,” Tony smiles at him.

Peter is unable to return it. His eyes are watering.

“I-I’m sorry, Mr. Stark,” he apologizes. Why does he want to cry?

“For what?”

“I dunno, it’s just… I-I knew you would be fine with it, but… I didn’t think you’d know what asexuality is or if you’d think it’s real at all.” Peter sniffs. “A-And I should be happy that you know, but…”

He’s met with silence, the kind that gives him time, that allows him to cry.

“You know, Mr. Stark… being asexual can be so… lonely sometimes. All the other kids my age talk about sex. All the adults I know also tell us we’re gonna find the right person one day. I see it all the time in movies, series, everywhere I go. I never liked it. But since I’m just a kid, everyone tries to convince me I’m gonna change my mind one day. I don’t get the appeal, I don’t get why it matters. I never felt like this for anyone, and I wonder if there’s something wrong with me,” Peter admits. “And as if that isn’t alienating enough, I have these super powers that make me less of a human being. I’ve never been normal, but that feeling just gets worse. Sometimes I wish I could be a normal kid who likes sex and who doesn’t have mutant powers. Maybe things would be easier, then.”

A few quiet tears roll down his face. Peter doesn’t think he has ever opened up about this facet of his sexuality. He never even told May or Ned. He never knew how to verbalize these feelings of inadequacy.

Peter almost forgets Tony has been listening this entire time, when the latter breathes in, probably due to the weight of the former’s words. He might be close to crying, too.

“Look, Peter,” Tony starts, “I’m not asexual, but as you probably know, I’m bisexual. I only came out when I was older, otherwise my dad would disown me if he found out. But what I want to say is that, to some level, I understand what you mean. Everyone sees bisexuality as a ‘phase’ or ‘confusion’. In a way, it’s not ‘real’, either. Like, pick a side, you’re either gay or straight.” Tony exhales. “Again, our experiences are not the same. From what you told me, yeah, asexuality sounds invisible. I just hope you know that you’re not invisible to me. You’re real and there’s nothing wrong with you. Like you said, society can be alienating, so many of us have to hide to be safe. It’s heartbreaking.” He’s then rubbing Peter’s back. “You’re safe here, Peter. You’re not any less of a person for having powers or for being asexual.”

The boy suddenly feels lighter. Thus, he leans against Tony, who gladly wraps his arms around him.

“It’s so tiring having to justify your existence,” Peter vents.

Tony doesn’t answer, but he silently agrees.

“Thanks for listening, Mr. Stark.”

“Sure, kid. I like the hints you showed me. They were very creative.”

Peter chuckles. “Yeah.”

“I think purple fits you.”

“I might wear it more often.”

Tony spends a while rubbing Peter’s back, until he hums.

“Asexuals like cake, right?” He wonders.

Peter grins. “I love cake.”

“Alright. We can order one for you, any flavor you like. I would bake it, but I haven’t baked since… a while,” Tony clears his throat, probably not wanting to say “decades” or else Peter would just make fun of him. “I don’t wanna ruin it for you.”

“It’s okay. Thanks, Mr. Stark.”

“You deserve it, kiddo.”

Peter just chooses a regular chocolate cake. It takes a while to arrive, of course. Until then, Tony shows him the bisexual flag he bought a long time ago, as well as pictures of him attending pride events over the years.

“Hey, what if we went to the next pride as Iron Man and Spider-Man? That would be so cool, right?”

Tony’s smile grows bigger. “That would be great, kid.”

As they eat the cake together – mostly because Peter urges him to eat with him –, Peter thinks of several ideas for the next pride month. Tony listens all the way, still grinning and looking at him with admiration.

Indeed, Peter Parker is real. And Tony loves him.

[trashmouth-richie]

RUN (one shot)

summary: just a little one shot taking place in 1995 a/u where Eddie and reader graduated in 1988

w.c <1k

Pairing: Eddie Munson x female!reader

A/n this is something that happened to me in real life and @b-irock and i laughed very hard about the other day so here ya go

———————————————————————————

“Look mommy! A firefuck!”

“Yes angel, a fire TRUCK TRRR-UCK” you repeat to the small curly haired boy who looks like a small carbon copy of his dad.

Snickering is heard from behind you as a red faced Eddie is holding his breath, “don’t you dare laugh Eddie!” you utter through tight lips, a small smile spreading against your lips.

It’s Sunday, and Munson party of 4 is at the local grocery store stocking up on the weekly essentials. Diapers, formula, milk, bread, spaghetti-o’s and bananas— who knew a twenty-five year old metalhead could eat almost a dozen bananas in a week?

Even though he was scared shitless when you told him you were pregnant all those years ago, Eddie is the best dad. He always insisted on carrying the diaper bag and never wanted to put the baby down. “What? I just want them to know that I love them,” he would say with a shrug.

Normally a shopping trip with a baby and a toddler would scare away a normal family, but Eddie always made it fun. Down the aisles he would sing and dance swaying the baby along with him, her little piggy tails bobbing along with Eddie’s every move. Her giggle is infectious just like his.

You smile along putting back some of the things Eddie thinks are essentials: cinnamon bread, 8 separate cans of spaghetti o’s, and always the “oh, babe remember this!?”

After meeting Eddie at the Hideout after a bad breakup, you were hooked, he was so charismatic, so uniquely and unapologetically himself, and the sex? Wow.

Mind blowing. It wasn’t long before you found out you were pregnant and were terrified to tell him. His dream of singing and playing with his band would be over. You suggested that he could leave, take the easy way out. But he wouldn’t have it.

And now five years later, two kids and a ring on your finger, here you are grocery shopping with your little family. It was everything you imagined and more.

Eddie is humming to the baby and blowing raspberries on her cheeks as you push the cart with the little foul mouthed four year old. Holding your grocery list in one hand and a pen in your mouth, you strain your eyes to look down the aisle for the spaghetti sauce that Eddie loves so much. A familiar face is walking with a cart, holding the hand of a very pregnant woman. You can’t place where you’ve seen this man before, but working mornings at the local diner always made you think you knew someone when in reality they were at the diner months ago. You’re furrowing your brows when it clicks.

Justin.

Your boyfriend, from sophomore year. The relationship was short lived and ended after he had switched schools.

He seemed to recognize who you were too, because he screeched to a halt, grabbed his wife’s hand, and did a 180 degree turn and ran the opposite way.

You blink your eyes rapidly trying to figure out if you saw that correctly. Did he just? What the hell?

Eddie must have also seen the theatrics, “babe, who was that?” He says with a chuckle and a look of amusement on his face.

“One of my high school boyfriends” you reply, still stunned that a grown ass man would run away from you like you were a leper.

“Dave? No way, I thought Mike said he was in prison for another 10 years.” Eddie asks, eyes wide still swaying the baby back and forth gently.

“Yeah he is, that was Justin, my boyfriend from sophomore year he switched schools during the summer.”

“Wait wait, so that was 10 years ago?! Jesus sweetheart, what did you do to that poor guy?” Eddie says, chuckling loudly as he throws a box of cartoon Mac n Cheese into the cart.

You lightly slap his arm, “I didn’t do anything! We didn’t even have sex!” You say laughing along with Eddie, “and he dumped me!”

“What the hell?!” Eddie is all but doubled over laughing at the situation. It is pretty funny. Why would he run? There is zero explanation as to why. He had broken up with you because you weren’t ready to have sex and he was switching schools. No biggie, life clearly moved on for the two of you. It’s a mystery only Sherlock Holmes could solve.

Eddie, you, and the kids keep grocery shopping and have a cart full heading towards the check out. The baby fell asleep in Eddie’s arms and he is whispering lullabies to her, as he hands her off to you. He starts to unpack the groceries onto the conveyor belt when his eyes go wide. Justin and his wife are ahead of you and haven’t seen you yet.

Waltzing over to them in the typical Eddie Munson fashion, he leans over and asks, “hey uh do you get royalties?”

Justin looks from his wife to the cashier and back to Eddie, “what?” He asks, a hardened expression on your face.

”royalties, you know… for your starring role as Tom Hanks’ running double in Forrest Gump.”

Justin’s face and ears turn bright red, his wife is every bit confused and highly annoyed by Eddie. Justin peeks around Eddie and sees you, he drops his cash into the cashier's hands and bolts out the door.

“RUN FORREST RUUUUUUN!” Eddie laughs, shouting after them. The cashier glares at him and Eddie looks at her with a blank expression, “what? Not a Tom Hanks fan?”

—————————————————————————-

[sparkiekong]

Day 31 - 200 Word Challenge

She looked at it and her ears twitched, “Toss for me?” Her voice had changed with her body. It was lower, raspy and a little growly. She hadn’t changed fully, she was a human looking child, but with wolf like aspects. It was cute, actually, but she was still dangerous to him.

He blinked, “You want to play catch?”

She nodded and her tail started to absently wag. He smiled and felt relieved, “We can do that!”

So, he tossed the ball, and she leapt off the couch faster than any toddler he’d ever seen before and ran over and bit down on the tennis ball and ran back to him.

“Again” she said.

“Alright, what about cartoons?” He asked.

“No. Ball. Again.” She growled.

“Ok, let’s play ball then…” He tossed the ball, and she retrieved it. He wondered how long she would be like this and how the little girl’s mother had figured out how to control a tiny lycanthrope during a full moon. He was nervous, but he knew that he couldn’t show it, or she could potentially snap at him. He treated her as he would any wild animal, with calm and gentle movements and a soothing voice.

Several hours later, the little girl's mother returned to find the two of them asleep on the couch. Her daughter was normal looking again but had the tennis ball in her mouth and she was nestled in the crook of his arm. She smiled and felt relieved; He had handled the little girl perfectly. She gently laid a blanket over the two of them and let them sleep.

[lovelyrocker]

Like Me Part Three

Bones & All (AU)

Warnings: Talk of Blood, Talk of Murder, Angst, Language

Characters: Lee, Liam (OMC), Reader

Pairings: None

Word Count: 2,549

Part Two

They’d been driving for hours in silence. She wanted to ask but didn’t want to know the answer. Lee didn’t offer any explanation either. He knew she would eventually ask though. But until then he kept his mouth shut and focused on the road ahead that was lit by the beams of the truck lights.

Liam was in a fitful sleep, nudging awake and moving a lot as the drive went on and on. Lee would look over at the toddler when he would start squirming but only a glance. 

“We should pull over and get a room.” She said looking at Liam, adjusting his little head again.

“We should keep driving.” Lee said in a monotone. “Get as far away as possible.”

“Lee,” She looks down at her watch. “It’s two in the morning.”

“Y/N,”

“He is a child. He needs a bed to sleep in.” She exhales. “Besides, they’d look for my car not your truck.”

“Just,”

“No,” She cuts him off sternly. “He needs to get out of this carseat seat. If not, he will be hell in the morning.”

Lee purses his lips together and huffs in annoyance. “Fine.” Another few miles down the road, Lee pulls into the parking lot of an old motel. “Stay in the truck. The fewer people that see you the better.” He doesn’t look at her as he climbs out of the truck and pulls a few folded bills of cash out of his boot. She looks over at the sleeping child then back to Lee. He pays for a room then walks out to the truck climbing it. He pulls around to the back of the building and parks in front of a room. “I’ll get the bags.” He said, climbing back out of the truck.

After Lee opens the door to the room she pulls the toddler from his seat and walks him into the room. “Can you pull those sheets back, please?” 

Lee looks back and sees her standing next to one of the queen beds. He hurries over and pulls the sheets back, grabbing the pillows. He watches as she carefully lays the sleeping boy down and pulls off his jacket. She gently covers him and presses a kiss to his head. The boy wraps his arms around his teddy and snuggles close to the stuffed toy. 

“I can’t believe he is still so sound asleep.” She sits on the opposite bed and just watches her son sleep.

“I get really sleepy when I- when it’s been a while.” Lee says, standing on the other end of the bed  behind her, digging through the bag on the little table in the room. 

After several long moments of silence, thick, heavy silence, she speaks. “What did you do?”

Lee doesn’t look up at her. “What had to be done.” He said plainly.

She turns around, looking at him. She watches as he pulls clothes out of his bag, no real emotion in his features. “What does that even mean?”

“It means,” He grabbed a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, finally looking at her. “Don’t worry about it.”

When Lee walked out of the bathroom she was laying in the bed with Liam, curled in a ball, her arm protectively around him asleep. Lee stood there for a bit, just looking at the two of them. His chest felt heavy, his stomach twisted. Seeing the child so close and watching her interact with him, so protectively. He swallowed hard before shaking his head. He tossed his clothes in the corner of the room and climbed into the opposite queen bed in the room, switching off the light.

--------

She woke up the next morning and was thrown off, feeling herself not in her own bed. She could hear a TV as she blinked her eyes open. Like a flash of heat to her chest the memory and realization from the night before crashed into her. She immediately felt the bed next to her, feeling for her son. Not feeling him, she bolted upright in the bed. Lee looked over at her, hearing the shuffling sheets. 

At the small table in the corner of the room she saw Liam sitting with Lee each with a bowl cereal in front of them, cartoons on the TV.

“Hi mommy!” Liam greeted with a mouthful of cereal.

“Hey baby.” She greeted sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Want some Cheerios?!” He asked sweetly.

“No, thank you, baby.”She smiled, running a relieved hand through her son’s hair. She pressed a kiss to his hair. “Where did you get cereal and milk from?”

“Me and Lee went to the store. He got me a lollipop!”

“He did?!” She looked over at Lee. “You took him out?”

“You were asleep.” He shrugged looking back at his cereal, taking another bit. “That fucking carseat is like, designed by NASA. Took me forever to click it in place.”

She laughed. “Language, please.” She tells him. “It’s not that hard to buckle.”

“Lee said we are gonna take a road trip.” Liam pips up excitedly.

“Yeah for a little while. We're gonna see some places.” She pushed his dark curls away. “Did you sleep good?”

“Mhm.” He nodded, taking another bite of cereal. 

As he brings the spoon to his mouth she sees the dried blood beneath his fingernails. Lee watched as she swallowed hard. “Hey, bud,” Lee speaks up. “How about after you eat we go get in the bath? Get all cleaned up before we get back on the road.”

“Okay.” Liam answers over his cereal.

She doesn’t stay much to Lee aside from a word here and there, giving her attention to the boy. Lee watched her and the toddler as they moved about, getting cleaned up and ready to head back on the road. He could see they were quite close. He couldn’t help giving a soft smile here and there during their playful interactions. His chest gave a slight pull.

Lee sat on the bed, leaning back against the headboard, picking his nails with a pocket knife. He glanced up at the boy every so often while Y/N was in the shower. Liam watched him from the floor next to the bed. He can feel the little boy's eyes on him. 

He tried to ignore the feeling till he felt the tap on his leg. Lee looks to his side and sees Liam with his hand on his knee. “Can I help you?”

“Watchaya doing’?”

“Cleaning my nails.” Lee tells him, peeling the dried blood from his nails.

Liam looks at his nails and inspects them. “Mommy cleaned mine with a brush.”

“Well, I don’t have a brush.” Lee tells him, not looking up from his nails.

Liam runs to the bag and pulls something out and goes back to Lee. Lee looks down and the toddler is holding a light blue nail brush in his outstretched hand. “You can borrow mine.”

Lee smiles softly at the boy. “Thanks, but I’m okay.”

“Ready?” Y/N asks as she steps out of the bathroom, towel drying her hair.

“About that,” Lee sat up, shoving his pocket knife in his pocket. “We should figure out where we are even going.”

“We can just start driving and see where we end up.” You sit on the edge of the bed near Lee.

“Since when do you do anything without a detailed plan?” Hee looks over at her as he pulls a map from his bag.

“I don;t exactly have a plan here, Lee.”

“Mommy,” Liam tugs her arm. “Can we go to the ocean?”

“That’s only a few hours away from here. I mean we are in North Carolina.”

Lee looks up at her. “You always did want to go to California.” He gives a soft smirk. “We’d just have to figure out the money situation.” He lays out the map.

“Actually,” She stands and goes to her bag, pulling out a can. “I have that covered.”, She handed it to Lee. 

He opens it and looks inside, his eyes growing large. “Where did you get all of this?”

“I worked a lot. I saved.”

“What were you saving for? A trip to China?” He say sarcastically, looking at the amount of money in the tin can.

She looks back at the toddler playing in front of the TV and then back to Lee. “Just in case I ever needed it.” Lee nodded in understanding as he placed the lid on the can. “He is so much like you that I-”

“You were preparing for it.” He handed the can back.

“I guess.”

He stood going for his bag. “You ready?”

They packed up the truck and she buckled Liam into his seat. They decided they were going to make the 38+  hour trip to California. Doing that with a toddler would be difficult and Y/N explained to Lee, who is very used to traveling solo, that they would need multiple stops and stays. Hesitantly he agrees.

They drive in silence for less than an hour before Liam is unable to keep quiet. If it were up to her and Lee the whole trip would be silent after last night. The shock of it all was still playing at her nerves and Lee could tell. But in true mama fashion, she ignored and pushed forward for her child. 

“Mommy radio!” Liam sings, looking up at his mom..

She looks up at Lee, silently asking if he would be okay with it. Lee reaches a hand, turning the knob and music starts playing through the small speakers. The boy smiles happily and starts singing along to the radio. As the drive goes Liam points out animals and trees and everything else you could think of. He seems to have neverending energy as he bounces in his seat.

Around lunch time they stop at a little store and Y/N buys stuff to make sandwiches and chips. Lee fills an ice chest with ice and loads up water and to his new reality juice boxes. Lee finds a clearing down a dirt path and decides it's a good enough place as any to eat lunch. 

Secluded, private, safe. 

They set up a picnic and Y/N makes sandwiches and pulls juice boxes out of a little ice chest in the back of the truck. “We can camp here tonight.” Lee speaks from where he is leaning back on an elbow on the grass. 

“Really?” She looks over at him. “No more driving? It’s only been like six hours on the road.”

“Kid seems to like running around out here.” He nudges his head towards Liam playing in the field. “Let him tire himself out. I have a tent and sleeping bags in the back.”

“Hear that, baby!?” She looks over to her son. “We are gonna camp here!”

“Yay!” Liam screams with a spin before chasing a squirrel. 

Lee lets out a laugh watching the toddler. She looks down at her hands, picking the grass. “When I went into the grocery store early, Sarah was on the news.” Lee’s smile faded. “Said she was attacked by a wild animal walking home.” She looked up at Lee. “Said she was found near the woods halfway home.” He cleared his throat, taking a sip from the juice box. “Lee,”

“I did what needed to be done.”

“What else did you do?” She looks at him, watching him stay silent. “Lee?”

“I took care of it.”

“How?”

“Why do you want to know?” He met her eyes.

“He’s my child. What if I have to do it next time.” She looks back down to the grass she is plucking.

Lee clears his throat. “I can maybe,” He swallows. “Whenever you settle somewhere, I can make sure he controls it. I can help him some.”

“You should have been there in the first place.” She looks up to him.

“I didn’t want him to be around this.” Lee tells her. “He didn’t need to know this part of who he is.”

“Lee this isn’t part of him, it is who he is!” She said matter of factly. “He did just like you! He killed his babysitter last night! He took a chunk out of her throat, just like you did when you were three!”

“I know!” He snapped. “I know, I'm the one who cleaned it up! I’m the one who bleached the fucking place!” He stood walking away.

She followed him to a distance that Liam wouldn’t hear. “You should have been there in the first place, Lee! You knew what signs to look for and knew what led up to it! I didn’t! I was doing this blind!”

“Why the fuck do you think I was there?!” He turned to her. She paused looking at him. “I knew he was at the same age! I stayed around watching and waiting to see if he would be like me! Since I’ve found out about him I’ve been watching and fucking waiting and praying.” His tone lowered. 

Her voice softened. “You’ve been around this whole year?”

Lee looks away. “I tried to make it before he hurt her but I couldn’t. I was a town over. On my way back.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She turned around for a moment then looked back at him. “So, you watched me- you watched me think I was going crazy missing you and you said nothing.” She pushed her long hair from her face. Lee couldn’t look at her. “Wow.” She walked away a few steps then turned back. “I can’t believe you.” She shook her head walking past Lee. “Keep an eye on your son. I need to clear my head.”

“Y/N,” He called after her but she didn’t turn back around. She just kept walking.

He watched her till she disappeared. “Where mommy going?” Lee looked down to see Liam looking up at him. 

“She is just going for a walk.”

“Oh.” The little boy answers. “Lee?”

“Yeah, buddy?”

“How do you know my mommy?”

Lee kneels in front of the boy. “Well,” He clears his throat. “We knew each other for a long time.” He squints a little from the sun as he looks at Liam. “Since before you came along.”

“Why Have I never met you?”

“I- uh-  I had to go away for a while and she wasn’t too happy about that.”

“Are you gonna stay around now?” Lee says nothing, he just looks at the boy who is filled with questions. He can see himself easily in the boy. It’s more than just eyes and hair. It’s his smirk and the way he flips his hair from his eyes the exact way Lee does. The way he scrunches his nose when his is tired and likes to sing along to the radio. “I like having you around.” Liam tells him.

“Oh yeah?” Lee ruffles his hair. “Why is that?”

“I don’t know.” The little boy shrugs and looks at Lee. “I just do.”

“I think I saw a stream a little off that way.” He points. “How about we go fishing for our dinner?” 

Lee can't help the smile that forms over his face as the boy’s face lights up.

Part Four

[thetreetopinn]

It’s a show for little kids you absolute fucking freak. Like you have got to seriously fucked in the head to sexualize a cartoon dog from a show for TODDLERS. You HAVE to realize how insane that is right? And how utterly creepy and disgusting? I hope you never get near any kids you fucking pedo.

*blinks*

Fellas... is being attracted to an adult character pedophilia?

[ladysunamireads]

After it All, We Sleep

after it all, we sleep by prodigalDaughter

As she blinked dust out of her eyes, it occurred to Camila that she hadn't slept in nearly forty-eight hours. ——— After the final battle, a motley crew of humans, witches, a demon, a Titan, and a star child have dinner and get some sleep. Camila observes the people around her, and most of all her daughter.

Words: 3727, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: The Owl House (Cartoon)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Gen

Characters: Camila Noceda, Luz Noceda, Amity Blight, Eda Clawthorne, The Collector, King Clawthorne, Raine Whispers, Lilith Clawthorne, Hooty

Relationships: Camila Noceda & Luz Noceda, Amity Blight/Luz Noceda, Eda Clawthorne/Raine Whispers, Lilith Clawthorne & Hooty, Eda Clawthorne & King Clawthorne

Additional Tags: Vignette, introspective oneshot, camila-centric, Good Parent Camila Noceda, mention of dadrius, Episode: s03e03 Watching and Dreaming, post-action but pre-timeskip, everyone kind of decompresses in the Owl House, Camila is coming down from adrenaline but honestly so is everyone else, toddler food, Lilith doesn't know what to say, realizing your daughter's growing up, Self-Doubt

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46841737

[dam-peace]

Hello, back again just to bring a rather lighthearted scenario for VV

Scenario: The MC dances to music (think cartoon or anime theme song *cough* DUCKTALES *cough) inside their office with the door locked and blinds closed. It’s a secret they do not share due to their rather intimidating reputation(and it’s embarrassing as shit)

So how would the RO’s and/or platonic peeps would react to the seeing the MC so in the zone that they hardly recognized being watched. And if it was brought up they dismiss it or would threaten them to keep it a secret (unless the person who saw them see it as blackmail lmao)

Tobias

"Well, well, well..." I trail off with a smirk, causing the Detective to whip their head around in my direction. Where they then quickly scramble to shut off the music emitting from their mobile phone.

"Didn't know you were a fan of the kiddy tunes." I point out in a mocking tone of voice, making my way into their office.

"What are you even doing here?!" They bark back.

Taking a seat on one of the plush office chairs, I wave a hand dismissively, replying back in boredom. "Babysitting you against my will", folding one leg comfortably over the other. I lean back into the chair with a smug look, "And look, the toddler's even putting on a show, how thoughtful." I tease, gesturing towards the horror stricken Detective.

Anger and embarrassment encapsulates their gaze as they march over to where I'm sat. Finger pointed in my direction, they proceed to make a poor attempt at threatening me.

"If you ever tell anyone about this I'll-"

I cut them off, "You'll what?" I scoff. "Jump me with your little duck buddies?"

"Shut up", They say through clenched teeth, fists shut tight by their sides.

I raise a brow, "Why should I? You're the one who thinks they can sing. Which you can't by the way, you sound more like a poorly made siren, if that." Peering down at their legs, I continue. "And if that wasn't bad enough, you also dance like a pensioner with two left feet, and a bad hip replacement."

Then, looking back up to meet their eyes, I watch as their top lip curls into a mean snarl. "Better quit while your ahead and keep that day job of yours Detective. Much less painful for the rest of us." I snark back incredulously, the horrors of whatever hell they were doing moments ago flitting through my mind.

"I mean duck tales, really?"

Nicholas

"Oh my God!" The Detective hollers out, practically barrelling themselves over the table to shut off the music emitting from their phone. Now here we both stand, frozen in complete silence, surprise on my part, whilst the Detective burns with red hot embarrassment.

Clearing their throat, the Detective speaks. "You saw nothing." They state matter of factly in a stern tone of voice.

I blink, "Of course Detective, I apologize for...." I trail off in uncertainty, causing the Detective to cringe slightly, as I do so.

What do I even apologize for? I certainly didn't barge in, I knocked, twice in fact.

Shaking my head slightly, I quickly compose myself. Smiling softly, I reply back without an ounce of awkwardness. "Anyway Detective, I just came back to inform you that the new batch of evidence has been sent over to your crime lab."

The Detective clears their throat again, turning away slightly whilst rubbing the back of their head. "Thank you..." They mutter back quietly.

My smile widens, "No problem, anyway I'll be taking my leave now, goodbye." I answer back smoothly, quickly announcing my departure without waiting for a reply. Closing the office door behind me, I start to walk down the hallway into the main office.

Ducktales.....who would've thought.

Kacey

"Oh my God! You're a duck tales fan too?!" I practically scream at the top of my lungs, causing the Detective to jump up in a fright.

"Jesus Christ!"

*Bang!*

"Ow!"

Slamming their leg against their solid oak desk, I cringe at the sound.

That's gotta hurt.

I rush over in an instant, "Are you okay?" I ask in concern, reaching out to rub their leg in an effort to ease the pain.

"Uh yeah" The Detective chokes out, inching away from my touch. I drop my hand, looking over their face. I take notice of their discomfort, raising a brow, I ask again. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm fine..." They trail off, looking off to the side.

I tilt my head in confusion, "Then why don't you look it?"

"Probably because you caught me doing something so f*cking embarrassing." They choke out, a pained expression etched onto their features as they utter every word.

Causing my brows to scrunch up in confusion, "Embarrassing? what did you do that was embarrassing?"

They look over at me with a deadpan expression, "You're kidding right?"

"No." I answer back, shaking my head from side to side. Before hopping on top of the Detective's desk. I look over at them with bright eyes.

"So who's your favourite character in duck tales?" I ask in excitement, practically bouncing on the desk top. "Wanna guess who mine is?!

Shuri/Shyam

"Ducktales again, really?" I ask with an all knowing smirk.

"AHH!" [Insert MC's Name] screams, jumping back in surprise at my sudden appearance.

"What the f*ck?!" They scream back at me, practically slamming on the touch button on their phone to shut the music off.

I raise a lone finger, "Uh! don't catch an attitude with me, I did knock, twice actually. Soooo pack it in, will you?" I ask in a mocking tone of voice.

They only huff back at my rebuttal, causing me to chuckle. I make my way over to their desk, sitting on top of it, I cross one leg on top of the other with a teasing smile.

"I'm surprised you're even doing this at work now..." I trail off, looking over pointedly at their phone. "Looks like your addiction has gotten worse."

They cross their arms, glaring back at me. Causing me to chuckle back, "Hey, what do you think about a duck tales theme party for your birthday this year? I'm sure the office would love it-" I try to finish, though my next words are cut off by a small rubber hitting me square in the face. Just before [Insert MC's Name] marches out of the door with a cute pout on full display.

"Is that a no?" I yell out to them, though my only reply is the bird they flip me back in response. I laugh, "Love you too!"

Leena/Luther

"AHH!" The Detective screams aloud, finally taking notice of my presence. Practically jumping on top of their office desk to shut off their ridiculous choice in music. "Have you ever heard of knocking?!" They yell back at me, more so in embarrassment than annoyance.

Though that doesn't make things any better, "I did" I answer back harshly. Marching over to their desk, I slam down two files on top of it, causing them to jump back in surprise. Turning on my heel, I make my way to the door without a second glance. Slamming it on my way out.

F*cking imbecile.

"Hey! Leena/Luther wait!" I turn at the sound of my name, watching as the Detective faces me with an uncertain expression. I cross my arms impatiently, waiting for them to speak.

"Umm" They start, rubbing their arm nervously. "I was wondering if we could keep what happened a minute ago, just between us....please?" They ask softly, looking up at me with earnest eyes.

I raise a brow, watching them in silence. I can't help but to scoff at this pathetic display, before turning sharply on my heel and walking away.

How disappointing.

Elias

"Jesus Christ!" The Detective cries out, nearly jumping out of their skin at the sight of me. Knocking their phone off their desk in the process. The Detective cringes at the sound of their phone plummeting to the ground. Causing the music to come to a complete stop, their eyes then travel back up to meet mine. Fixed on my face, as does mine to theirs with a raised brow.

Quickly they hold up a lone hand, "Don't" they plead. As if the embarrassment of this moment is painful enough as is. Now raising both brows, my eyes flit over to the sitting area. Where I had been moments ago, spotting the reason for my sudden return to the Detective's office, I make my way over.

Reaching just under one of the cushioned seats for my black velvet lighter, with a fiery wailing skull embedded onto the surface. Which had unknowingly fallen from my jacket pocket ,onto the Detective's office carpet earlier on. With the item now in hand, I turn towards the Detective once more, giving them one final look before pivoting on my heel and heading for the door.

Sliding a cigarette into my mouth, I can't help but to replay the scene of the Detective singing and dancing in their office from earlier on.

Ducktales, huh?

Mason/Marley

"Mother of God!" The Detective belts out in horror, causing me to flinch. As they catapult over to their phone, shutting the music off. They clutch their hand tightly to their chest, wrapping the soft fabric of their button down shirt into a tightly closed fist.

"Make a sound next time, would you?!"

"I'm sorry!" I holler back in surprise, quickly marching over to the Detective's desk. I practically slam the files I had in hand on their desk top, then swiftly making my way out of their office without a second glance. Accidently slamming the door on my way out in a panic, cringing at the sound it makes upon impact....

SLAM!

Fuck!

I scream at myself internally, now frozen in place in front of the Detective's office door.

Should I apologize....?

With that thought in mind, I take a few tentative steps towards the door, my hand hovering just hovering over the door knob.....Until the familiar sound of the duck tales theme song seeps out from the other side once again, causing me to jump back from the door as if it was on fire.

Nope!

Turning on my heel, I instead make my way back over to the lab. The scene of the Detective dancing around to duck tales of all things evading my mind. I smile at the all be it embarrassing memory, treasuring the scene.

Cute.