#again there’s probably more i don’t remember

[theglamorousferal]

Casper High Youtube Consortium

Team Phantom - Extended Edition

AmityUnsolved - Hey Tucker, how is the list of ecto-rich cities coming? I don’t want to have to wait another whole year to apply for college.

AmityUnsolved - Not that i’m not enjoying researching with the ghosts, I’d just like to get something on paper so I can get, like, a real job?

PharaohTuck - I’m working on it, I only have access to the one satellite so far dude

AmityUnsolved - Hey, was just asking

PharaohTuck - it’s fine dude, I should have it done for the end of the week tho

DashingDash - really? sweet

PollyPocket - fabulous!

AStarIsBorn - about time dweeb

IShotFirst - finally

TaeKwanDo - hell yeah dude

IToldYouSo - please let Metropolis be on the list, pleasepleaseplease

PharaohTuck - ancients dude calm down, other places have good journalism programs too

IToldYouSo - yeas but I want to inter at The Daily Planet

DashingDash - yeas

TaeKwonDo - yeas

IShotFirst - yeas

PharaohTuck - yeas

PollyPocket - yeas

AStarIsBorn - yeas

AmityUnsolved - yeas

EbonyDarkness - yeas

SpaceCase - yeas

PharaohTuck - oh hey @SpaceCase @EbonyDarkness glad to see you back in the land of the living

EbonyDarkness - really?

SpaceCase - har har tuck

PharaohTuck - I do my best work for you, you know that

DashingDash - ew keep your flirting outta the main chat you three

PharaohTuck - no but seriously, how’s things in the gz? run into anybody you didn’t mean to?

SpaceCase - nah, just the usual ghost shit

EbonyDarkness - translation: he somehow earned himself a new title again

SpaceCase - SAM!

IShotFirst - really not surprised at this point

DashingDash - what the fuck fentonio

TaeKwonDo - what is your life man…

IToldYouSo - goddamnit Fenton

PollyPocket - is it at least cool this time? what was the last one again?

AStarIsBorn - Lord of Lougies

PollyPocket - eugh right that

AmityUnsolved - So, what is it this time?

SpaceCase - well, the username is a bit more fitting now I guess

SpaceCase - you’re talking to the new Ancient of Space™

DashingDash - again I say: WHAT THE FUCK FENTON!

IToldYouSo - wait like space as in outer space or space as in the concept of space

SpaceCase - yes

PharaohTuck - I’m with dash on this one dude, what the actual fuck

SpaceCase - on the bright side, I can now make portals and teleport

TaeKwanDo - dude you should totally do doordash

SpaceCase - if my powers were public then I totally would, I’d make bank

PharaohTuck - you could always pretend it’s an invention your parents made, they did make that portal bazooka that one time

SpaceCase - ooh good idea

EbonyDarkness - the boy finds out he can alter space and can access all knowledge of it and everything contained within and he uses the powers to work at doordash

EbonyDarkness - you know, sometimes I see all the shit we do on paper and I think we’re responsible adults and then shit like this happens and I remember we’re still kids

IShotFirst - eh at least we know he won’t use the powers for evil?

EbonyDarkness - rich coming from you

IShotFirst - hey, I apologized for all that shit and you know it

EbonyDarkness - I know, you didn’t really know any better, it’s just fun to rile you up sometimes

IShotFirst - oh well fuck you too then

IToldYouSo - waitwaitwait Fenton, can you feel all of the Earth if you concentrate on it?

SpaceCase - yeah, probably, why?

IToldYouSo - do you think you could feel where the highest concentrations of ectoplasm are on the world? It would save Tucker some time and probably a headache

SpaceCase - you  know what? It’s worth a shot

SpaceCase - whoa

IToldYouSo - what???

EbonyDarkness - hold up I’ll get a picture

EbonyDarkness - (photo of Danny in Phantom Form with a cloak of stars and holding an icy globe in his hands. There were bright ecto-green dots all over the miniature of the Earth.)

PharaohTuck - hey, if you bring that over I can cross-reference it with a world map and get this done tonight

IToldYouSo - come on Metropolis

PharaohTuck - so bad news, Metropolis isn’t one of the ecto-rich places

IToldYouSo - goddamnit

PharaohTuck - however, Gotham, an hour’s train ride away, is

PharaohTuck - and it happens to be the place that has all of our majors in or nearby

SpaceCase - Jazz will be excited, she wanted to eventually work at Arkham and we can’t just keep sending her ecto all the time. Luckily London was ecto-rich

PollyPocket - omg yesyesyes they have SUCH a good fashion program

AStarIsBorn - and their business program too!

DashingDash - hell yeah, they have a great phys ed course

TaeKwanDo - I’d have to hop on the train with you to Metropolis for Vet Tech stuff Wes

IToldYouSo - THANK THE ANCIENTS

SpaceCase - you’re welcome

PharaohTuck - snrk nice one

AmityUnsolved - oh cool! They have a pretty good forensics school in Gotham!

EbonyDarkness - oh hell yes, do you think I could get Dr Isley’s autograph on my botanical science textbook?

PharaohTuck - oh no, you aren’t allowed anywhere near that woman

EbonyDarkness - and why is that Tucker?

PharaohTuck - Sam, you’re on your way to beating Jane Fonda’s record for being pap‘d while being arrested at protests

PharaohTuck - do you know how hard it is to keep your name off watch lists as it is?

EbonyDarkness - and I thank you for that every time. What’s your point?

PharaohTuck - Sam, you and Ivy would take over the world together

EbonyDarkness - hey, she’s mostly reformed at this point, I was just gonna suggest she request to be in charge of the green spaces of Gotham and maybe introduce fruiting trees to sidewalks all over the city so the homeless can eat

PharaohTuck - fine, but so help me if I have to hack into the Pentagon from the back of a taxi following a police car with you in it again, I’m gonna be pissed

EbonyDarkness - hey, that asshole deserved it

IShotFirst - as enlightening as this conversation is, and I would like the full story the next time I see you, back to the topic at hand. Are we all gonna try and find a place together for college?

PollyPocket - I have a whole account set aside for housing that’s been waiting until we found out where I was going. It should be able to at least put a down payment on a place that can fit us all

EbonyDarkness - same here, Grandma Ida has been excited for us all and set aside some too

EbonyDarkness - want to meet up and we can start looking at places? 

PollyPocket - sounds good to me, are you all okay with us figuring out the housing situation for all of us?

SpaceCase - less thinking for me is always a happy thing

PharaohTuck - yeah, I trust you guys to figure it out

IShotFirst - just make sure the place has a gym for me or at least a place where I can have one

AStarIsBorn - if you need help looking over anything, just message me, I have work at the library tomorrow, but I can answer texts

IToldYouSo - yeah, I’ll look into the commuter train between Gotham and Metropolis

TaeKwanDo - oh can you send me that info too? I’m at the shelter tomorrow otherwise I’d join you

AmityUnsolved - I’ll look up the requirements for admission for all of us and drop it in the Drive

SpaceCase - sick. now if you need me, no you don’t. at least not for the next 14 hours as I’m going to be asleep. @IShotFirst you’re primary defenses until I am conscious, showered and fed again

IShowFirst - you are so lucky it’s my day off from training tomorrow danny

SpaceCase - thanks val <3

IShotFirst - fuck you ghost boy <3

AStarIsBorn - your friendship confuses me sometimes

PollyPocket - for real tho 

SpaceCase - it’s all in good fun don’t worry. now I’m going to bed, we probably all should tbh

EbonyDarkness - night

PharaohTuck - night

PollyPocket - night

IShotFirst - night

AStarIsBorn - night

TaeKwanDo - night

DashingDash - night

IToldYouSo - night

AmityUnsolved - Goodnight!

Amity Parkers moving to Gotham for college. Sam and Paulina pooling their trust funds together to buy an abandoned hotel and fitting it as apartments for everybody. They all train together in the courtyard to keep their skills up and just because it's fun. Suddenly an influx of super competent self-trained (or maybe ghost-trained) young adults.

Everybody having their little niches and suddenly they all have more free time that's not being taken up by ghost attacks so many of them started different YouTube channels with info they found out from the ghostly residents of Amity. Star and Paulina running a history of beauty channel going over makeup, hair styles and fashion, special guest Sam when going over alt fashions. Dash and Kwan running one on the history of sports. Wes and Mikey running a conspiracy theory podcast. Valerie running a martial arts channel. Danny just info-dumping about space and spacecraft in videos that range from 45 minutes to four hours. Tucker running a how-to channel for fixing tech and coding. Sam running a combination true crime and witchy channel. The Trio running a Let's Play channel.

Ghostly things happening in all of the videos and everybody guesting on everybody else's channels leads to everybody thinking it's all an elaborate ARG. Danny just floating through the walls half-asleep with a glowing shaker bottle in the background. Some of them when they're in the middle of a rant seem to forget to take a breath or their eyes or freckles start glowing. On a livestream Paulina snaps at somebody off screen and her eyes are suddenly glowing green. Danielle pops in during a charity livestream that the Trio are running and calls Danny-Daddy, Sam-Mom, and Tucker-Dad and is just floating on the back of the couch. Danny doing a stream to watch a rocket take off and suddenly a robe and crown flash and he disappears in a flash of green and the stream is just dead space until the rocket's about to take off and Danny comes running in and jumps over the back of his chair to watch it and cheer.

[fluentmoviequoter]

I'm Closer

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!wife!reader

Summary: During a string of break-ins in your neighborhood, you have to stay home alone while Tim works a night shift. When the intruder gets close to you, you remember Tim is always closer.

Warnings: depictions of breaking and entering, anxiety/fear, vague threat, fluff and comfort

Word Count: 1.8k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Rules

When Tim returns home, you’re sitting in the corner of the couch with your knees pulled up towards your chest as you type on your phone. He sighs and locks the door behind him.

“Where?” he asks, moving to stand behind you before he lays his hands on your shoulders.

“Two streets over,” you answer. “The Clarksons.”

You click the power button and toss your phone aside before you stand on the couch. Tim’s hands fall to your hips as he tilts his head back to look at you.

“How many is that?” you ask softly.

“Fifteen,” he replies. “There was one yesterday afternoon, we were investigating it all morning. Seven detectives and not a single lead between them.”

Leaning forward, you place your hands on Tim’s shoulders. He lifts your hips and pulls you carefully over the back of the couch. Before your feet touch the ground, you move your arms around Tim’s shoulders and hug him tightly.

“What if we’re next?” you ask against his neck.

Tim doesn’t answer right away, opting to tighten his grip on you as he moves one hand to smooth over the back of your head. He understands your concern. You have both been on edge since the second reported robbery. Fifteen break-ins in your neighborhood in less than three weeks is more than enough cause for concern. Each report makes Tim more eager to get the thief in cuffs but simultaneously discourages him from leaving you home alone. You’ve been triple-checking locks even when he is home, so he can’t imagine the weight you’re carrying when he’s gone.

“I’ve been driving by every few hours,” Tim tells you. “And Wade has patrol officers all over this area. We’re going to catch him.”

You nod against Tim. You desperately want to believe him but refuse to let your guard down. Tim mumbles something against your hair, and you pull back just enough to tilt your chin up.

He sighs, then says, “I have to work the night shift tomorrow. If you want to go stay somewhere else, I get it.”

You shake your head and take Tim’s hand, leading him toward your bedroom. “There really haven’t been any leads? Not even what kind of house they’re targeting or anything?”

“Nothing,” Tim laments. “Whoever this is, they don’t seem to be picky.”

“Comforting.”

Tim chuckles at your tone, then wraps his arms around you again. You never feel safer than when you’re in Tim’s arms. Neither of you are the kind of person to run from a fight, so you will stay in your home tomorrow, alone, and trust Tim and his fellow officers to find the bad guy before anything else happens.

“I could ask Smitty to park his car in the driveway for his hourly naps, try to scare anyone off with the sight of a police car coming and going,” Tim suggests.

“That would work great until they see the donut-hungover cop in it,” you joke.

“Call me tomorrow night, okay? For anything.”

“I will,” you promise. “I love you, Tim.”

The following night, after you kiss Tim goodbye and promise again to call him if you need something and to check in often, you walk into the kitchen and begin cooking yourself dinner. You aren’t hungry, you're too concerned with checking each car that drives by the window and ensuring no one can see inside the house. You walk through the house and check the locks as your food cooks. Everything is fine, you remind yourself as you carry your food to the couch. You turn on the television, hoping it will serve as a welcome distraction until you’re ready for bed.

Tim looks away from the computer monitor before him to check his watch. You’re probably getting ready for bed, and your last update was only a few minutes ago when you said everything was fine and the closest neighbors were home from work.

“Grey,” he calls.

“Two patrol cars are circling now,” Wade answers without looking up from his folder. “Everything’s quiet.”

Tim nods to himself, then clicks his keyboard to resume the security camera footage. Lucy yawns beside him, and Tim resists asking Wade which officers are in your neighborhood. If something were to happen, you’d be more likely to call Tim than dispatch, and he’d like to know who is close.

“She’ll be fine,” Lucy assures him softly.

“She better be,” he responds before watching a man in a bright red tracksuit enter a gas station with a gun in his hand.

You enter the guest room across the hall from your master suite with your phone in your hand to ensure the windows are locked. The windows on this side of your house aren’t very easily accessible, but you check them regardless. In your pajamas and ready for bed, you tug on the window latch and nod when it doesn’t move. Raising your phone, you open your text thread with Tim and begin typing a message. You pause when something makes a scraping noise outside. It goes silent, and several seconds later, you resume typing.

Just before you hit send, a loud pop echoes through the hallway before the undeniable noise of a window sliding open reaches your ears. Two soft footsteps follow soon after, and you begin to panic. You look around for something to defend yourself with, then suddenly remember that Tim told you to take cover first and then defend yourself only if necessary in a situation like this.

The closet door is open, so you grab the nearest object before sliding onto the floor beneath the extra clothes. Carefully, quietly, you pull the door closer to the jamb, then sit back in the dark corner and call Tim.

Tim pauses the surveillance video, zooms in, and gets a clear image of the suspect’s driver’s license as he removes his wallet to pay for a Red Bull. He rolls his eyes at the criminal’s stupidity but mentally thanks him for saving Tim some time finding him. Tim’s phone rings, and Lucy jerks as if she had been asleep.

“Hello?” Tim asks, pushing away from the desk as he waits to hear your voice.

“Tim,” you whisper, clearly panicked.

He stands immediately and lowers his voice to ask, “What’s wrong?”

You take a shaky, shallow breath that tightens Tim’s chest before you say, “Someone’s in the house. I was checking the windows, and then there was a pop in out bedroom I think… Tim, I can hear their footsteps, please come home.”

Tim jumps over the desk he’d been seated at, ignores the calls of his coworkers, and runs through the station to get to his truck. He knows he should alert Grey, dispatch, or anybody, but his thoughts are on getting home and ensuring you’re safe.

“Talk to me,” Tim requests as he slams the door of his truck closed and starts the engine.

“Tim,” you whimper, clutching your phone as your hands shake. “I think they’re going down the hall.”

“I’m on my way,” he promises. The radio in his truck lights up, and he hopes someone saw something and the officers in your neighborhood are on their way.

You murmur something that Tim can’t decipher but remain silent when he asks you to repeat yourself. The truck’s transmission revs as he presses the accelerator to the floor, fighting to keep his mind away from the worst-case scenario. As he turns onto your street, setting a new record for how fast the commute has ever been driven, Tim slams the gearshift into park several houses down. He leaves the truck running with the door open as he runs down the street and unlocks a side entrance to enter.

“I’m here,” he whispers to you before entering the house. He puts his phone in his pocket and raises his gun as he moves carefully through the house. You’re hiding somewhere but thought the unwelcomed visitor was coming toward the main part of the house. A door clicks somewhere down the hall, and Tim abandons his goal of clearing the kitchen to find you.

In the guestroom closet, you hold your phone to your ear with one hand while pressing the other to your mouth to muffle your breathing. The door into the bedroom clicks as it is pushed open farther, and you push yourself against the wall behind you. Tim is in the house somewhere, but your mind is racing with panic and fear. You peek through the gap in the door and see a masked intruder moving carefully through the room. Suddenly, he turns toward the closet, and you close your eyes.

Tim looks into your bedroom, where the window latch has been blown off by a small explosive device, but sees no evidence of anyone currently inside. The door across the hall, however, stands wide open. With his gun ready, Tim crosses the hall and presses his back to the wall before stepping inside.

“LAPD, stop where you are,” he demands.

The masked man stops, halfway between Tim and the closet. Tim sees the closet door isn’t completely closed and wonders if that’s where you are. Sirens sound outside, and Tim takes another step into the room.

“Hands up,” he instructs. “Interlace your fingers and place them behind your head.”

“You’re too late,” the man taunts.

Tim ignores him, and how his stomach rolls at the idea that anything could have happened to you while his phone was in his pocket. “Kneel.” Once the man is on the ground, an officer announces his presence downstairs, and Tim shoves the man unceremoniously toward the hallway and yells his location and that there is one in custody.

Then, Tim abandons his duty to keep the suspect secure as he turns toward you. He opens the closet door carefully, then drops to his knees. When you see him, you lower your phone and reach for Tim. He takes your hands and pulls you closer, whispering promises that you’re safe and he will never put you in this position again.

“When I said to always have something to protect yourself, I meant something a bit more substantial than a bowl,” Tim says, reaching for the jewelry tray you grabbed before hiding.

“It’s heavy,” you defend weakly.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”

“You’re here now.”

Tim pulls you closer, blocking out the noise of the officers apprehending the intruder, and your adrenaline wears off as you realize you can feel safe at home again.

“How did you get here so fast?” you ask as Tim helps you stand.

“Don’t tell Wade but I broke a few laws.”

You laugh and then furrow your brows. “How did he get in?”

“Right,” Tim remembers. “We need a new window.”

“He was really close,” you murmur.

Tim gently holds your chin as he kisses your forehead. “I’m closer,” he vows before cupping your cheeks and kissing you.

[grapejuicestyless]

Stupid F-ing Tattoo

JJ Maybank x Fem!reader

Summery: Y/n and JJ both had a few things in common. One, love didn’t exist. And two, they both wanted her dead.

She wasn’t dead, but sometimes, he wished she was.

It was honestly fucked up, there was no silver lining. She hadn’t wronged him, or cheated, or lied. She was as guilty as a fish, and he was the shark. But he still wished she was dead.

Sometimes, JJ wondered if she wished the same thing. If some nights, if she ever were to by chance hear his laughter in a passing moment, maybe with his head hung out the back window of the Twinkie like she used to do, or in a lazy jog away from the cops, he wondered if she wished he would also, drop off the face of the earth to give her some peace.

Then he would remember that even though it didn’t feel like it, he had won. Because she had no peace, and he was certain she never would. While he was up all night wishing her to be gone, she was up all night praying for the same thing.

She often told him that the only things keeping her going were him and her dog, but mostly her dog. An old white dog, a stray she’d taken in when she was merely seven. He was as crusty as they get, and while he and his friends often joked about how gross the old thing was, she happily scratched behind his ears and reminded him of how good he was always.

But the dog was getting old, and JJ had long been extracted from her life. Sometimes he wondered if his prayers meant something, and then he would get on his knees and take them all back in a guilty sob. Because JJ didn’t want her to die, he just hated the fact that he had fallen in love with someone who couldn’t fathom love more than he ever doubted it.

JJ felt like an asshole. What kind of person prays for another persons death? Especially someone like her?

He figured he liked her so much because they were so alike. Like the seasons, they were the coolest winters and the sweltering summer all at once. They were so close, yet so far. Like January and December. Born with the same love and loyalty, but destined to fall apart, prophets forced to be divided.

His finger hovered over her contact every night, but every time he thought of how she would answer, and his tongue would go dry. She would probably only say hello, and he would say it back, and the line would go quiet for a few minutes, just breathing in each others inhales, aligning his breath to hers, and then she would ask him why he was calling. He would say he didn’t know, but he hoped she was well, and she would wish the same for him because she always did, and she always meant it more because she never wished that he was dead. Then, she would ask if it was okay to let him go, and he would ramble about something and how it was all dumb to begin with. She would listen and then the line would go dead. Dead like how he sometimes wanted her.

He couldn’t bear the idea of letting her go again, even if he didn’t realize he had the first time.

They had just gotten matching tattoos. “P4L” poked into their ankles until the skin swelled red and even air burned. They were fucked, and it was a dumb idea.

JJ said it was the stupidest fucking tattoo he’d ever gotten. She had laughed, playfully pushing his arm away and setting the needle down.

“You don’t have any other tattoos.” She reminded him softly, eyes shining in the moonlight. The twinkles reminded him of the north star, and he felt that he too found home in the same way.

“Not yet.” He promised her, his fingers slotting between hers. “I’m gonna get your name tattooed right across my palm so I can hold you eternity.” JJ smiled, proud at his use of larger words. He’d felt like a poet then, smiling from ear to ear at himself, a dork by textbook definition.

“Well, then I’m going to get your name tattooed on my lips, so I have every reason to talk about you.” She promised him, and JJ remembered the look in her eyes, he knew it from the way John B looked at Sarah and the way Pope’s dad looked at his mom. He knew it was love.

He should never have confessed it.

He knew better than anyone that her mothers neglect had beaten her heart black and blue, and her cousins hatred towards her and her friends who had bullied her, he knew that much like him, love was a construct of some sort of fantasy, a promise of forever that could never be fulfilled, because eventually, someone has to leave.

She laughed, and then she cried. She promised JJ that she also loved him, loved him like a dog loved its owner, unwavering and loyal. But there was no way in hell she could ever love him the ways he wanted, and that hurt JJ because he had spent weeks working up the courage to even come to terms with his very real feelings.

“I can’t love you, JJ. I do, but I can’t because I can’t even promise myself that forever. I’ll break my own heart and I’ll blame you.” She had explained with tears streaming down her face. He regretted the way he yelled at her.

They never spoke again. His best friend, and the love of his life, her voice became a concept in his mind, and he swore that he had forgotten the sweetness of her smell. He hated that because that meant he was just like everyone else. Just another person who would miss her when she went.

So, he started wishing death on her. More for himself, until it became a prayer for her. She never laughed anymore, never smiled. When he saw her from afar, he’d noticed that she’d gone back to her friends she hated because suffering is better than loneliness when all you can think about is the quickest way to go.

He saw a girl floating in the ocean the a few days into the summer, her hair resembled Y/n’s and her eyes did too. It was only when he saw the way she seemed to fold herself into the water he knew it was her because only she would have the drive to try and let the ocean swallow her whole.

JJ ran as fast as he could out, wading through the crashing waves until he could wrap his arms around her. She was wet, cold, and limp. A hollow version of the woman she once was. It reminded JJ that she was just a girl, the same age as him, and he once again, felt guilty for ever wishing death on her.

When he laid her in the sand, he knew two things.

One, on her skin, she had another small tattoo scribbled down to memorize her love forever. His name, just two little letters, the same one, poked into her shoulder in the same font as their matching tattoo.

“Stupid fucking tattoo.” He cried, gritting his teeth together, his hands searching her body for any warmth he could cling to, a sign that maybe he hadn’t seen her too late.

The second thing he knew, through his salty tears and guilty heart, was something he prayed he would never have to witness, but something he had always wished for.

His prayers had been answered.

[revelboo]

Stop, we're too full of your delicious meals. We can't take anymore of it. 😫 (still have room for anything masterpiece of a fanfiction you have blessed us for today and more. 🤭) I don't think I've seen you done rodimus or not. Think you can whip him up one? 😗

I did, but also haven’t updated the Masterlist since it’s a pain on my phone. Here’s part two, though

Attractive Today Pt 2

MTMTE Rodimus x Reader

• “Nothing broken, but probably a concussion,” Ratchet grumbles, drawing back from the limp form sprawled on a Cybertronian sized exam table to lightly smack the scanner against his other palm. Like he’s thinking about hitting him with it, even though this isn’t his fault. How can he possibly know what everyone on the ship is doing all the time? Co-captain doesn’t mean watching the crew all the time to make sure no one’s doing something stupid. It shouldn’t anyway. “How many of them are there?”

• Spreading his hands in a shrug makes Ratchet’s servos tighten on the scanner. “Brainstorm was a bit vague on that part,” Rodimus says, attention dropping to the human. They’re tiny, but surely if there were more, they’d have been noticed already. He hadn’t brought up Brainstorm’s vague and oddly threatening ‘not on the ship,’ either. Because he’s not at all happy with the implications of that. “I don’t suppose you might-“

• “Absolutely not,” Ratchet cuts him off, now brandishing the scanner like a weapon. “That isn’t my problem, captain.”

“Co-captain,” he mutters, gingerly picking the human up and trying to not shudder at how disconcertingly limp it is in his hand. Megatron was supposed to be the one handling the boring, responsible stuff. Like reports and making sure stuff like this isn’t happening.

• Whirl had wanted it, but actually handing over a very small, very helpless thing to that lunatic? Almost as bad as the idea of more humans left behind on planets or ships they’d interacted with or passed too near. Or just floating out in space like horrifying, frozen markers behind the ship. That he refuses to think about. Maybe Mags will take it? He likes humans. Possibly. Striding out of the Medbay in search of Magnus, he starts running through possible alternate human sitters. Swerve?

• Head pounding, you squint your eyes open with a groan and lift a hand to touch your temple. Or try to. Your arms are pinned at your sides and whatever’s restraining you is warm, shifting slightly against you. And with dawning horror you remember that awful metal chicken-legged abomination snatching at you with those claws while the other one egged him on. Chasing you. There’s been a third one, right? Right, turning your head you stare up at the red and yellow nightmare staring down at you in surprise. “Hey,” it says, flashing a lot of big teeth in a big mouth.

• And you’re screaming again, and Primus, you have some volume. “Don’t eat me!” You wail, thumping your tiny fists against his servos like you think you can fend him off from… eating you? Well, that explains a lot of the panicked run straight into a wall. But where had you gotten the ideal that Cybertronians eat humans from? Growling under his breath, he tightens his grip as you try to squirm right out of his hand, completely oblivious to the possible fall. Fragging Whirl.

Previous

[no-144444]

hi! i love your blog and i know this is kind of weird but just hear me out. do you remmeber the 'anything but f1' thing they did this year? what if oscar's topic was his girlfriends career and she was like a huge superstar on broadway and on the screen? and he like knew EVERYTHING and answered every question perfectly?

i hope you like this idea, if not, that's totally fine.

thank you ml xxx

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knowing me, knowing you- o.piastri

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

a/n: thank you for requesting! sorry it took so long :)

summary: i suggest you look at the ask...

pairing: oscar piastri x reader

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Oscar was too warm and tired for this. He stood in front of a camera, smelling like hairspray and some sort of spray the makeup artist had put on his face, while he was asked all of the ‘Grill the Grid’ questions. 

“That’s it for ‘Grill the Grid’,” she explained. “But this year we have a new segment.”

“Oh yeah?” he questioned, his interest piqued. 

“Yeah, it’s called ‘Anything but F1’,” she smiled. “Your topic is Y/n Y/l/n’s career,” she chuckled. 

Oscar smiled. “This is going to be easy.”

“Will she kill you if you don’t get full marks?” she laughed. 

Oscar pondered. “Probably not?” 

“Alright then. Ready? Pressure is on.”

He nodded. 

“What was Y/l/n’s first role on Broadway?” 

“Matilda,” he nodded. Y/n Y/l/n, his girlfriend, you, also an EGOT winning actor, the youngest there’s ever been. 

“Correct! How old was Y/l/n when she made her Broadway debut?”

“Well, she was 8 in Matilda on the West End and did 2 years of that, so 10?” he answered. 

“Correct! How old was she when she played Sally Bowles, making her the youngest to have ever played her on a Broadway stage?” 

“She was 17.”

“Correct! How old was she when she got her first Tony?” 

“11 years old.”

“Correct!” she smiled. “What Disney princess did she play?” 

“Huh?” he questioned, not knowing that you’d voiced a disney princess. “She’s voiced a Disney princess?” 

She nodded. 

“In a Disney film?”

She nodded again. “Think about it.”

“Does she sing in it?”

“The princess does sing,” she explained. “But Y/l/n did also write a song for it.”

Oscar was stumped. “Can I come back to it?” 

“Sure,” she shrugged, moving on to the next one. “What was her first feature film?”

“Lés Mis,” he answered. “She played Cosette.”

“Correct! What happened at the 2013 oscars?”

Oscar chuckled. “I think Jennifer Lawrence fell over and took Y/n with her?”

“Correct! What is her most streamed song?”

“Does this include recordings she was a part of or just her solo career or the band too?”

“One of those is fine, but if you can give me an answer for all though, we’ll give you an extra point.”

“So,” he started explaining. “Y/n’s most streamed solo single is probably American Teenager, her most streamed band single is probably BABY SAID, and her most streamed cast recording was probably Wicked, or Hadestown.”

“Correct, and it is Wicked.”

As he explained his answers, his trainer and others in the room started to laugh. He knew everything about you. He was so down-bad it was almost embarrassing, but they understood it anyway. You’d been together since you were 14, you were 23 now. You get to know a lot about a person in 9 years, especially from teenage years to being a young adult. 

“What record did she break by winning an Oscar in 2018?” 

Oscar smirked and winked at the camera. “She’s the youngest person ever to gain an EGOT.”

“What school did she teach at in her early years?”

Oscar raised an eyebrow. “How old was she?”

“Ages 8-12, she taught here on and off, and not many people know about it since she didn’t go into that field of the arts.”

He groaned, trying desperately to think. “The Royal Ballet in London!” He exclaimed, finally remembering. 

“Correct! Next question, how many Tony awards does she have?”

“Oh shit they’re on the mantel at home…” he muttered to himself, trying to count them in his head. “5?”

“Correct. Who has more trophies?”

Oscar chuckled. “I have more trophies, but she has more awards.”

“Alright, how many Emmys does she have?”

“1, which she won this year for her role in the Bear.” 

“Correct, how many Broadway or West End shows has she been a part of? You get a bonus point for naming them all.”

“Oh alright, so Matilda, Annie, Into the Woods, Hamilton, Heathers, Spring Awakening, Mamma Mia!, Moulin Rouge!, Cabaret, Six, Parade, Hadestown, Chicago, Wicked, and right now she’s doing Lés Miserables for the first time on a stage,” he explained. “So that was… 15?”

“Just one more?” she hinted. 

Oscar’s face fell. “What? What else has she done?” he asked out loud. “I said Wicked?”

She nodded. 

“Did I say Mamma Mia!?” 

She nodded. 

“Did I say Phantom of the Opera?”

“No, you didn't! Congratulations, bonus point awarded. What has she said is her dream role?”

He took a deep breath. “It’s going to be really bad if I get this wrong, isn’t it? Alright, so, she has always wanted to play Ms. Honey in Matilda,” he watched as the interviewer shook her head. “Shit, alright. Any hints?”

“She said it would be the only way to get her back into a specific show,” she hinted. 

“Oh! Emcee!” he cheered. “God, how could I forget that?”

“Well done! Alright, one final question, what song did she sing at the 2023 grammy awards, where she debuted her first single after ‘LISTEN’, her band, went on hiatus?”

He smirked. He was there for that performance. He was sitting in the crowd as you sang. He got to take you home and congratulate you. He got to be the proud boyfriend all night. He loved it. It was one of his most fond memories. “She sang ‘That’s So True’. I was there.”

“The infamous kiss picture,” she winked at him. He nodded, a smug smile on his face. “So, going back to the other question, what Disney princess did Y/l/n play?” 

“Oh shit yeah, it was animated, yeah?”  

“Not necessarily,” she hinted. 

“Ariel!” he exclaimed. “Ariel, of course!”

She chuckled. “Congratulations, you know the most about Y/n Y/l/n’s career out of anyone I’ve ever met.”

“One would hope,” he chuckled.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

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[stormz369]

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 24

Jason Todd x (f)Chubby!Reader

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, will probably get NSFW later, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

warnings/labels: little bit of trauma talk, but otherwise a light chapter!

wc: 2.1k

Chapter Selection

Damian handed me a large manilla envelope as he came through my door. “Father said to give this to you.”

I frowned, opening it. The first page was an employment agreement. For ‘services to the Wayne family' I was being offered a salary of $120,000 a year for the duration of my education, and a signing bonus of an additional $10,000 up front. Under that was a paper with the name and number of a friend of Bruce's on the board at Gotham University's medical program, and a scribbled note that he was expecting my call. And under that was a pile of pamphlets and booklets on the medical program at GU, with specific details and classes highlighted.

“... Well, he's nothing if not thorough.” I shrugged, setting everything aside and pulling out the ingredients to start on dinner.

“What is all that?” Damian grabbed a snack from the fridge. 

“Just some paperwork; I’m thinking about going back to school.”

He nodded, getting set up at the table to work on his homework. “... Father also mentioned you're going to be the primary contact at my school?”

I nodded; “is that ok with you?”

Damian looked over at me. “... Yes, that’s fine. … Do I bring you the papers they send home then?”

“Yeah, I can take anything they send home.”

He nodded, pulled out a flier for spring semester PTA sign-ups. I took it, reading it over. “Looks like PTA meets on the first Monday of every month during last period. Maybe we can make a day of it!”

“... Do what?” He frowned.

“I'll come for the PTA meeting, and then Jason could pick the both of us up, and we'll get dinner before we take you home.”

“... You're joining the PTA?”

“Yes, I am.” I smiled brightly.

Damian frowned, eying me suspiciously. “... Why?”

I shrugged. “Why not?”

He watched me for a minute; “... You just … want to spend an hour a month with the parents and teachers at my school?”

“Let’s just say I’ve learned not to trust those people to treat their students right. I want to make sure they remember who they’re dealing with.”

“... Alright.” He nodded once, going back to his work.

I prepared dinner, humming softly to myself. Eventually, Jason knocked on the door, and I went to let him in. He smiled softly, kissing my forehead, and took a seat at the table. “... Babe, what's this?”

I looked over, he was looking through the paperwork Damian had brought. “Ah, I was gonna talk to you about that tonight. … I'm thinking about going back to school.”

“... Medical school? … And what's this about ‘services rendered to the Wayne family'? What services?” He frowned, looking up at me. I popped dinner in the oven and went to the table.

“... Should we go into my room to talk?” I looked over at Damian, who was staring at us.

“... Ok?...” He frowned a bit and I offered Jason my hand. He took it, following me to my room.

We sat on my bed, Jason still holding the paperwork. He looked through them, a confused frown on his face; “... What's going on?”

“... You said you were more comfortable than usual when I took the blood sample. Right?” He nodded slowly; “well, that night I was thinking about it … about your scars. … Bruce said you don't let anyone treat you unless you’re brought in unconscious?”

Jason nodded again, frowning deeply. “... I … I have a hard time trusting strangers with medical equipment … and I don’t like going to the Batcave for treatment either … they’re … they know what they’re doing, but … I don’t like the look on their faces when they have to treat me … makes me feel … ill.”

I nodded. “Well, I know some of your scars bother you, … and they wouldn't be so prominent if you were able to get proper treatment when you get wounded. So, I was thinking I could get the training to be able to do that for you, if you think you’d be comfortable enough for that?”

He blinked a bit, frowning. “... You … you want to get trained to- … why?”

I gently squeezed his hand, stroking his knuckles with my thumb. “Because you need someone you feel safe getting medical treatment from. You deserve to feel safe. And if I can help you with that, I will. … I don’t want you bleeding out in an alley somewhere, or trying to dig a bullet out of your own shoulder, or who knows what else, you know? … I love you, Jason, I want to help you.”

He frowned, squeezing my hand tightly. “... I … I don't know what to say…”

“You don't have to say anything right now. We don't have to decide this today, it's just something to think about.”

“... What about the ‘services rendered' part?”

“Well, if I get this training, I'll be able to act as an emergency clinic for the others too.”

“Oh. So, Bruce is going to pay you to be our medic?”

“Basically. That way I'll never be at the diner when you guys need care. I'm also joining the family's Thursday afternoon training sessions.”

Jason nodded slowly, pulling me into a tight hug. He sniffled softly, mumbling; “... I … I didn't want to pull you into this world…”

“If you’re in this world, I’m in this world.” I cupped his cheek gently, kissing his forehead. “I want to be able to protect myself, and I want to be able to help you, and Damian, and the others. I will not be dead weight, and I will not watch you suffer needlessly.”

“You wouldn't need to be able to defend yourself if it weren't for me…”

“It's Gotham, my love. Self-defense classes are probably the most popular type of extra-curricular activity in the entire city for every age group.” I stroked his hair, holding him close.

“... I guess … but I hate that you're in extra danger because of me…”

“I think it balances out; I'm also extra secure because of you. Who'd be stupid enough to knowingly fuck with Red Hood's girl?” I smirked a bit, running my hands through his hair.

He frowned, holding me closer. “... Only the worst of them.”

“And they'd fuck with anyone for any reason anyway. So it doesn't matter.” I cupped his cheek, rubbing the tips of our noses together. “I'm happiest and safest with you, and we'll deal with the consequences together.”

“... I wish things were different. … I wish loving me didn't come with consequences…” 

I sighed softly; “well, we could always leave Gotham. Start over somewhere else…”

“... Can't do that…”

“I know you can't. So, we'll just have to play the cards we've been dealt, right?”

He sighed softly and nodded, kissing my shoulder. “... Not gonna let anyone hurt you, baby. Promise.”

“I know you won't.” I hugged him tightly. “I know you wanna take care of me. And I wanna take care of you too.”

He nodded slowly, wrapping his arms tighter around my waist. “... Ok. … Th- thank you, baby… thank you…” I nodded, hugging him tightly. He sighed softly, kissing my jaw softly. “... Wait a minute, how much is Bruce offering you? …”

He picked up the paperwork, frowning deeply. “Oh hell no. Don't sign anything yet, I’m gonna renegotiate this for you.”

I giggled, kissing his neck. “It’s more than I make now.”

“It’s insulting. $120,000 for an on-call doctor? Is he trying to piss me off? No, if he’s gonna pay for this, he’s gonna  pay you a fair fucking wage!”

“Well, I’m probably not going to get a full doctorate; I only need to know enough to take care of your day-to-day medical care. More like … a field medic. He's also funding my education, is going to pay for any supplies I need, and has the connections to get me into the medical program with no questions asked. I think it's fair.”

Jason groaned, pulling me closer. “... I get to renegotiate after you're done with school.”

“Deal.”

Mrs. Webster frowned deeply as I took a seat in the auditorium at Damian's school. She slowly approached, holding a clipboard. “... What are you doing here?”

I smiled brightly; “this is where PTA sign ups are happening, isn't it?”

“You're not a parent.”

“Ah, no. But I am one of Damian's adults, and Bruce has made me the primary contact for school related concerns, so I thought I might as well get involved. I'm very … passionate about Damian's education, after all. As I'm sure you remember.” I smirked, watching her nose wrinkle. Eventually, she thrust the clipboard into my hands, and I signed up, providing an email address and phone number.

“... You won't be able to bully the PTA into doing things your way. I hope you know that.” She frowned.

“Fortunately I have no intentions to bully anyone. I do have a habit of calling out any bigotry I run across, but that shouldn't be a problem anymore. Right, Mrs. Webster?”

She very nearly growled as she stormed away. A few of the moms that were mulling around stared at me, but that quickly stopped when I waved to them. I thought I’d be left to my own devices, but soon enough, an older couple made their way over, sitting near me.

They introduced themselves, shaking my hand; “Which one is yours, dear?”

“Damian Wayne.” I smiled softly.

The woman blinked a bit. “You're Damian Wayne's mother? … Oh, forgive me, but I thought …”

“No, no! I'm a big sister.” I chuckled softly. “I don't even know who or where his mother is, I'm kind of a new addition to the family.”

“I see. Well, it will be nice for him to have someone getting involved. Our Sarah is in many of the same art classes as Damian, and it's always so sad to see him on his own at the after school events.”

I nodded. “That's exactly why I'm here. He was so pleased when I offered to come to the art show last semester, I want to see him happy like that more often.”

“Oh, that was quite the event! Did you hear? We didn't see it, but apparently someone threatened Mrs. Webster!” The woman cackled softly. “Such an unpleasant woman…”

“I wouldn't say I threatened her, just made her aware of certain facts. Including the fact that I am one of Damian's adults now, and she isn't going to get away with spewing passive aggressive microaggressions towards him while I'm around.”

The man chuckled; “that was you? She's been in a tizzy ever since!”

I smirked a bit; “What kind of tizzy?”

“Just insufferable. Our Sarah says she's been more harsh than ever in class.”

“I'm so sorry. I wasn't trying to make things worse for anyone…” I frowned deeply.

“Oh, you aren't responsible for her behavior, dearie. She's always been a rude one…” the woman gently patted my hand.

“Sarah has her troubles. You know, mental health stuff. All the kids seem to nowadays…”

“And Mrs. Webster, well �� she doesn't ‘abide by that nonsense’.” She scoffed.

“And of course there was the instance with the lesbians.” Her husband frowned slightly.

“The lesbians?” I frowned deeply.

“This sweet little girl with lesbian parents last year. Mrs. Webster met her mothers at a parent-teacher conference and apparently started treating the girl … well, different. … They moved over the summer, I do hope they're doing better now…”

I frowned deeply, watching Mrs. Webster on the other side of the room. “Hm… so she's not just racist, she's ableist and homophobic too. Gross….”

“She's never said anything overt about anything, nothing worth bringing up with the administration. But she's a … vexing woman.” the woman sighed.

“Well, … maybe individually they're not big things worth mentioning, but together they make up a big pile of nasty. … Do you know anyone else who has ‘small’ problems with Mrs. Webster?”

“Oh, maybe a few people… it's really not worth bringing up though.” She waved her hand dismissively.

“Yes, it is. We should bring the numerous ‘little things' to the administration. Establishing the pattern of behavior will be important to getting justice if they know about anything bigger. And no matter what comes of it, it's important that the kids see that their adults will stand up for them.” I frowned.

“Well … I supposed it wouldn’t hurt to talk to the other parents at least …” The husband frowned, looking to his wife. She nodded slowly.

“We’ll talk to the other parents.”

I nodded; “here, let me give you my phone number. Feel free to share that with any parents who have a problem with Mrs. Webster; I have no problem being the squeaky wheel with the admin.”

They nodded, putting my number in their phones. Mrs. Webster and a few other teachers started the meeting a few minutes later, and I sat back to observe.

Divider by: @saradika-graphics

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[bellesdreamyprofile]

a baby miracle: part 6

“Where are my little honeybees?”, you smiled at the familiar sound of Benny’s voice. You looked over your shoulder and noticed a giddy smile forming on your baby’s face. A lil´ daddy’s girl. You couldn’t really blame her though, because, in a way, you were too.

Matilda made animalistic noises as she tore the pancakes you had made earlier in big chunks - probably too overwhelmed with the excitement she was feeling upon her daddy’s arrival. You sighed at the mess before you and picked up her little plastic fork from the floor. You wiped it up and set it in front of her again. “Alrighty, Tilly, no more messy hands please.”, you looked at her and poked her chubby cheek. The baby just laughed, almost mocking you.

Warm hands on your waist made you jump a little, the reaction earning a snicker from Benny. “Honeybee being a lil´ troublemaker again?”. A breathy laugh left your lips as you leaned your head back on his shoulder, his lips leaving kisses on your cheek.

“I don’t think she’s a huge fan of pancakes, quite honestly.”, you said truthfully and pointed with a finger at the mess that had yet to be cleaned up. All while Matilda was staring at the two of you with big, curious eyes.

Benny shook his head and unwrapped his arms from around you and silently approached his daughter. Matilda’s little eyes followed her daddy’s movements, even as he squatted down in front of the highchair. Benny picked up a chunk of pancake and put it in his mouth, humming at the sweet taste.

“See, babygirl? Mama made them and they’re so good, yes?”, Matilda instinctively picked up a torn chunk of the sweet and pecked it with her lips. Benny laughed and moved his eyes on you, wanting to make sure you hadn’t missed the moment. You shook your head with a small smile and leaned against the doorframe.

“No, bee, no kissing the pancake. You eat it. Like this, look.”, and he went on to put another half chewed pancake in his mouth.

You crossed your arms on your chest and smiled at the interaction. “You know, honey… I can fix you a quick lunch if you’re hungry.”, your tone was laced with tease, but it made him chuckle.

He glanced your way and smiled. “I’m good eating bee’s food, thank you very much.”, you rolled your eyes as you bit back a smile. You moved on in front of the sink, starting to clean up your daughter’s mess, stealing glances at the two of them every now and then. An inevitable smile made its way on your face, thinking about how far you’ve all come along.

The day you found out you were pregnant was the day you thought you lost Benny to his past and insecurities. The day your daughter was born was the day you thought you lost Benny to the club. The day you brought your little bee home from the hospital was the day you thought you lost Benny to your own mistrusting feelings. 

No, he wasn’t right for missing the birth of your daughter and it wasn’t exactly fair to you either, but what was the point of life if we all held resentment to one another? You couldn’t. Especially because you knew that beneath Benny’s rough exterior was a heart of gold. The man worshipped the ground you walked on - also he worshipped every pancake chunk Matilda threw at him.

Life is no easy ride, but that’s why rollercoasters are so fun. Each bump with its ups and downs makes it incredibly unique. And why not experience that rollercoaster with a man like Benny?

“Baby, today is that picture thing at the club, remember?”, you blinked as you were rushed back to reality. You dried your hands with a small towel and hummed, turning around.

“Yes, of course I remember, honey. That's the whole reason why we bought that little denim jacket before Matilda was even born.”, you commented with a smile at the sweet memory.

Benny picked up your daughter and set her on his hip. “And the little pink booties. Let’s not forget those.”, he said in a softer voice and smooched Matilda’s cheek.

Without even being able to step foot in the club, you heard Johnny’s booming voice coming closer.

“Alright, where’s my little niblet?”, little Matilda’s feet kicked in Benny’s hold as Johnny reached his hands out for her. You laughed with your husband at your bee’s silly reaction.

“Oh, Johnny, your hair is looking real nice.”, you complimented. Johnny tickled Matilda and finally took her in his arms.

He did a little jump with her in his arms, making your baby squeal in delight. “Thanks, kid. Betty made sure I looked nice and proper.”, he rolled his eyes. “But look at this little princess with the little jacket.”

You wrapped an arm around Benny’s waist and smiled. “And the pink boots.”, your husband chimed in. Matilda wiggled her little feet as if to show uncle Johnny what her daddy was fussing over.

“Alright, let’s go. Everyone’s waitin´. You’re the last ones to arrive.”

“Benny didn’t know how to style his hair.”, you said teasingly, making Johnny snicker. Benny rolled his eyes and bumped his shoulder with yours.

“Lady Benjamin and her hair. Of course.”

After some swear words were thrown around, at which you scolded them both for, you finally made your way in the club. The guys, their wives and kids all ran over to finally meet and get to know the club’s newest member. Your heart soared at the love everybody already seemed to have for your little bee.

“Okay, now let’s try one more picture. A serious one this time.”, you quickly turned around and fixed Benny’s collar. He smiled and winked at you.

“Well, if you’re fixin´ mine, I gotta fix yours too, no?”, the teasing tone withheld hints of seduction, making your cheeks burn. You shifted Matilda to your right hip as Benny’s fingers pulled at your collar.

“Doesn't seem like you're fixin´ nothing, Benny.”, you said in a small tone.

“Oh yeah?”, the tone in his voice dropped lower, making it incredibly hard for you to keep your composure. Your brows shot to your forehead, wondering what this crazy man had in plan next.

“I’ll show you fixing´ honey.”, and right as the click on the camera went off, his lips were pressed on yours. 

Your little girl squealed in your arms, though nobody seemed to notice that the picture wasn’t as perfect as it had to be. You fought to urge not to sigh into the familiarity of that kiss. The kind of familiarity you could never get enough of, because it was all yours.

“I love you, baby.”, you were the one who leaned in for another kiss, but this time it was crystal clear for everybody.

“Lord have mercy. There goes baby number two.”

THE END

A/N: what a ride! I love these two so much 🥺 let me know what your thoughts are on the series & this chapter xx wishing all of you peace and love xx

MASTERLIST

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[herejusttosufferalong]

People have to remember the general public really didn’t get hyped for S3 until close to the release, so as much as I wanna claim S3 will reign supreme, we can’t really predict yet.

I will say the fact they don’t have something to slide into the franchise next year like they did Queen Charlotte in 2023 is possibly going to be a problem for them and probably why we are getting a little bit of promo now and most likely they will churn out more content over the coming months in order to not fully lose the attention of folks.

If s4 breaks 90 mil views I will be happy, but also QUITE shocked.

I don't believe it will fare well and for MANY REASONS.

I also think the writers will drop the ball again this time around for our faves, but I'm praying I'm wrong.

[tinfoil-jones]

Gravity Falls: For Your Own Good, Ch. 5

Summary: A few years after moving to Gravity Falls and having his lab built, Stanford Pines happens upon his estranged twin brother, Stanley. He mentally prepared himself to be suffocated by his brothers neediness all over again - what he wasn't prepared for was Stanley walking right past him like he didn't even notice him.

Rating: M for language, violence, and adult implications

Preface: Dialogue only, but some actions will be annotated for clarity. Cross-Posted on AO3 Here

First - Prev - Next

CH.5

“Hey, stretch. You here to play doctor?”

“I’d just like to interview you. I’m not going to touch you if that's what you’re concerned about.”

“Why not?”

“...ANYhow, I have a few questions for you.”

“Yes, I'm single.”

“Not those kinds of questions. Can you tell me your full first name?”

“Can you give me yours first?”

“Fiddleford.”

“Stan.”

“Okay, Stan. Where are you from? And don’t you dare say from my dreams.”

“Well yeah, I’d say ‘from your dreams’, not mine. Other than that, probably some gutters or a ditch somewhere.”

“What do you mean?”

“As far as I remember, I’ve been out on the streets, or in prison. I think I had a car at some point? But I dunno what happened with that, it makes my head burn trying to think about it.”

“Do you have any family?”

“No.”

“Do you remember ever having a family?”

“I don’t remember having one, but I feel like I had one before.”

“What do you feel like happened to them?”

“They probably got tired of my BS and told me to take a hike. It’s how it always goes with me.”

“That’s a theory you’ve put together. I’m asking what you feel like happened.”

“Feel like I had a dad who was waiting for an excuse to get rid of me. I feel like I had a mom who was a liar - I probably got it from her. Maybe a sibling or two? But they don’t want me around.”

“And what do you think about Stanford?”

“You mean the guy who drugged me, kidnapped me, and is keeping me prisoner in his evil basement sub-lab in the middle of the woods? I gotta say, he makes an impression.”

“But does he seem familiar to you?”

“I don’t think I could forget someone like him” 

“Is it because of his six fingers?”

“It’s twelve , and no, that's pretty normal compared to all of his other weird crap. It’s because he’s fucking crazy , and convinced I’m some mystery twin of his. But let’s stop talking about him, and talk about you instead. Are you single? You doing anything later?”

“Stay on track, Stan. Let’s take a step back and go back to talking about you. Have you recently gotten into any accidents or sustained major injuries?”

“Define ‘major’.”

“Beg your pardon?”

“Judging by your friend's reaction to the stab wounds when we met, I don’t think your definition of major injury is the same as mine.”

---

"What did you determine, Fiddleford?"

"It wasn't easy to glean things because he would not stop flirting with me - was he always this way?"

"He was a little girl-crazy when we were younger, I didn't know he liked men. But that doesn’t matter right now, what were your findings?"

"He has full cognitive function. And based on your scans he has no signs of brain damage - comparing images of his brain to yours, his genetically identical twin, there isn't any morphological difference. Based on my interview, it sounds like he's never sustained significant head trauma neither.”

"But..?"

"If he really does have amnesia, it wasn't caused by a head injury."

"What else could it be?"

"A few things - perhaps he took a drug or substance that warped his brain chemistry. Or- more likely in my opinion, based on his lifestyle and what little history he tells me, he might have undergone extreme distress that caused a mental breakdown."

"Mental trauma can cause someone to lose their memories?"

"Our memories can be a shield and a sword, Stanford. Even good memories that can comfort you through a difficult time, can also cause pain and frustration when compared to a bad predicament.

He must have gone through something so traumatic that the only way his mind could cope with the stress was to... forget things. This is a phenomenon known as repression . Most of the time, a person would repress the traumatic event itself, but it looks like he’s defied the statistics and forgotten everything else instead.”

“He can’t be… that traumatized, right? This is Stanley we’re talking about.”

“I don’t know what he was like before, but he’s got a mullet, Stanford. There ain’t no way he's in a good place mentally.”

"And how would repressing memories about our family- about me , possibly help him cope with trauma?"

"If I'm going to be frank with you, this is the first time in the years that I've known you that you even mentioned having a twin brother . You've talked about other family members before, such as your older brother Sherman, but never him.

If his mind had to prioritize which memories to keep, why would it keep memories of someone he isn't close to?"

"We are- well, we were close."

"Were is a strong word, Stanford. Survival focuses on the present, not the past.”

“... What can we do to get his memories back?”

“I’m not a therapist. But perhaps if you can get him out of the survival mindset, he’d be open to some introspection.”

“So we must disable his fight-flight-freeze response…”

“Stanford Pines, I will throw that damn tranquilizer gun down the bottomless pit if you don’t put it down. Ya'll really need to stop using the slippery slope of science without consideration for morality like it's a damn seesaw. There are other ways to get him out of fight-flight.”

“Such as?”

“I would suggest you make him feel like he’s in a safe space, but that might not work.”

“Why not? He’s perfectly safe here.”

“But does he know that? From his perspective, you’re a stranger who shot him with a tranq dart and imprisoned in your basement for scientific exploitation. And I’ll remind you, this is all without his consent. He is here against his will.”

“It’s for his own good.”

“According to you, someone he thinks he doesn’t know. This may be your twin, Stanford, but he doesn’t know that. You need to gain his trust; maybe he would have trusted you by default in the past, but that isn’t the case now.”

“I… I’m not sure how to do that, Fiddleford. At one point, we knew everything about each other. And now I barely know him, and he thinks I’m a stranger. I’m still angry at him, and still bitter about what he did before he left home, and I’m disappointed in the conman and convict he turned into… but I’m sad, because he's convinced he’s not my brother.”

“You ain’t exactly the same person you were even when we first met all them years ago. People change. How about you try talking to him?”

“Just talking to him?”

“This may be difficult for you in particular, but you should try talking to him like he’s a person; and not a science experiment, anomaly, or an equation you’re trying to solve… Hey, hey don’t be looking like the last pea at pea-time now. I believe in you, you got this.”

“Thank you, Fiddleford.”

*Ford goes back downstairs to the lab. Fiddleford waits for him to be out of earshot before speaking*

“Bless his heart. This is going to be a disaster.”

To be continued…

[kitkat13001]

⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚜

>> tomura shigaraki x reader

>> comfort, this is entirely self indulgent, i have nothing to say. tomu calls reader “dollface” and “honey”, probably very out of character tomura but idgaf im going thru it and i needed him to comfort me (hope it comforts you too <3) // (dividers by @/anitalenia)

you’re mid-breakdown when tomura comes knocking at your window. 

you jump at the rap of his knuckles against the glass, your skin prickling and hair standing on end as you wipe your face. you pray your cheeks aren’t too blotchy, your eyes aren’t too red, thankful for the dimness of your apartment illuminated only by fairy lights and decorative lamp. 

“hey,” you say, opening the window and stepping back to let him clamber through. you try to keep your voice steady, but it’s futile. tomura’s nothing if not observant. 

“what’s wrong, dollface?” 

the way he’s frowning at you tugs at your heart and you feel the tears well up in your eyes again. he takes your face in gentle hands (sans pinky, of course) and it’s too much—you fully burst into tears. 

he shushes you softly, pulling you in close. his arms are tight, secure around your body. he may be a villain, but you’ve never felt more safe than when you’re wrapped up in his embrace. 

it takes a while for you to calm down. you’re gulping for air through the sobs, approaching hysteria, but the shame bubbling up in your stomach over the emotions is calmed by tomura’s quiet whispers in your ear. 

you don’t know how long you stay wrapped up in his arms, until you’ve cried yourself out. 

“sorry,” you sniffle as you pull away, wiping furiously at your face once you regain your bearings. “you don’t want to hear about my stupid problems.”

“actually, i kinda do,” he admits, taking your hands to pull you closer. “they’re a lot more digestible than my problems, probably. who knows, maybe i can even help you.”

“thanks, tomu. but i don’t think these are problems you can just dust and move on from.”

“hm. even if that is true, i’m sure talking about will help at least a little, huh?”

he tilts your chin up with his finger, unusually soft look in his eyes.

“so what’s the matter, honey?”

it all comes out. every little thing that’s been poking you between the ribs for as long as you can remember the last couple days, weeks, months. that one time you said that thing in middle school, last week when you tripped and dropped your favorite drink, how it’s been a minute since you called your mother, the way you’re hungry and nothing sounds good, how it seems like the world is going to shit.  

it’s kind of ridiculous to hear it all out loud, but tomura was right. it’s like a weight off your chest just to say it, to be able to breathe again. 

you’re flushed and breathless once it’s all out. you’re sitting on the couch now, your hands in tomura’s. you’re not quite sure when you got there. 

your shoulders sag with the relief of it all, body caving against his. 

“you feel better?” he asks, giving you a gentle nudge. 

“a little,” you admit, allowing yourself to lean back until you’re laying in his lap. your eyes flutter shut with the feeling of his fingers softly twirling a strand of your hair. 

“just…get some rest now, okay? ‘m not going anywhere.”

as promised, completely self indulgent coping fic :) it’s been a day. hiding under the covers from the horrors of the world. get up again tmr and do it all again bc life moves onnnn 🫶🤞 stay safe and don’t lose hope. you are loved!

- 𝚔𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚢 !

[honeyjars-sims]

3.35 Sticky Situation

It’s the second day of our camping trip and I’m realizing that even when she’s on vacation, Lucy is still in work mode. With the spotty cell service on the mountain, she’s not able to do any actual work so she’s channeling all of her energy into making sure things run smoothly on the trip.

She was up before the rest of us this morning cleaning up our mess from the night before and now that everyone’s awake, she’s been looking for things to do. “We should gather more firewood,” she says.

“We have all day to do that,” I tell her. “Just relax. This is a vacation, remember?”

“I know, but I can’t relax when there are things that need to be done. I always get like this when I’m…on vacation.” I have a feeling there’s more going on but before I can ask her about it, Paul jumps in.

“Well, if you can’t relax until things are done, then at least let someone else do it,” he insists. He turns to me. “John and I can gather up some firewood while you get in some relaxation.”

I start to protest the suggestion–I always hate it when I get roped into hard labor just because I’m a guy–but Lucy looks so relieved that I decide to let it go. “Yeah, we’ll take care of it,” I say instead, and Paul and I head off into the woods.

We barely make it a few feet before Paul starts droning on about how you want to make sure you get the right type of wood, and you have to make sure the pieces you pick aren’t too wet, and blah, blah, blah. “Yeah, yeah,” I cut in. “If I have to do this, then I’m gonna do it my way.”

“Oh? What’s your way? If you have any insights, I’m happy to hear them.”

“It’s pretty simple. Is this wood? If yes, then I pick it up.”

“Hmm, ok,” he says, sounding uncertain. “I suppose we’ll see how that goes tonight.” 

“I guess we will.”

“You’re kind of competitive aren’t you?” he asks.

I feel my face growing hot, remembering how I tried–and failed–to show him up on our last hiking trip. “Uh, not really,” I mutter.

“Oh, so, it’s just with me then?” His words would sound confrontational if not for the softness of his tone. He seems more curious than argumentative.

“Look, I’m sorry about all of that. I was just feeling a little insecure with all of the attention you were getting from the girls. I’m trying to be more mature about it, though.”

“Ahh, the girls,” he replies. “That’s what that was about. I don’t see what you’re so insecure about, though.”

“Well, I mean, you’re going to be a doctor, and you’re more athletic than I am.” Spelling out my insecurities isn’t exactly making me feel better about them. 

Paul shrugs. “I don’t even start med school until the fall,” he counters. “Besides, you had everyone laughing and that’s something I’ve never been good at. In fact, I’m famous in my family for telling the worst jokes.”

“Oh, really?” I ask, excited for an opportunity to pass on some advice about something I’m good at. “In my opinion, the main thing people get wrong about comedy is that they try too hard to be funny instead of just finding opportunities naturally.”

“You think so? Maybe that’s where I’m going wrong.”

“It could be. Go ahead, just say what comes to mind without thinking too much about whether or not it’s funny.”

“Uh, ok, what’s brown and sticky?” he asks.

“I don’t know, what is it?”

“A stick!”

This is not a good joke. Like objectively it’s not, but he has this huge grin on his face like he’s standing on stage at a sold out comedy show, and I can’t help but laugh with him. Not in a mean way; he’s so pleased with himself that it’s kind of endearing. “It was good?” he asks eagerly.

“Well…” I choose my words carefully. “Maybe the joke wasn’t the best, but I think you have the right attitude. I’m sure if you start looking out for the humor in different situations then it’ll start coming naturally to you.”

“Ok, well, thanks for the feedback.”

“No problem. We should probably start gathering up that wood. What did you say we should look for again?”

Previous | Beginning of story | Beginning of chapter | Next

[nezuscribe]

(i was the nonnie who asked about how america works) i don't really wanna keep going back and forth with this cause i dont wanna be annoying or anything, but i did a little bit of research and... that's not really what i've seen??

for all the economy stuff, Biden still had four (or is it five? idk how long your presidents stay in office) years to fix the economy he got from trump if it really was bad, and what ive seen from gas prices and grocery prices in america, he clearly hasn't done that

kamala also had four years to fix the issues she was talking about, so there's that

also, from what i know (pls correct me if im wrong) all of those sexual assault cases and other charges placed against him were proven wrong. i dont think hes actually been indicted or placed in jail for anything (which ig you could sum up to the unfair legal system over there, but wasn't there that hole issue with the Clinton guy?? maybe im getting things confused, idk)

from my research didn't he also provide a lot more jobs for people of color? ive never heard him say anything explicitly racist during his rally's (i havent watched all of them) or with his legislation. ik that whole thing with the border wall was going on, and i do think that was 100% rash way to deal with the border crisis, but the Biden guy also didn't do anything to help that situation

for reproductive rights, i remember tuning into the kamala v. trump debate and he explicitly said that he was pro-abortion in the cases of rape, incest, and life of the mother (if you think that abortion should be okay in any circumstance, the ig its just a different morality, where i live thats very not okay)

for the banning books thing, ive seen plenty of clips where in elementary school library's theyve been putting out books with porn and smut in them, which i think is not okay for little children to be leanring. from what i understand, that's probably what he was trying to do with banning books (again, pls correct me if im wrong)

and i've also never really seen him display any sort of homophobic tendencies.

pls keep in mind that this is all very basic level research, as i dont really have time to go that in depth, but im majoring in politcial science at my uni, so i think this is an interesting and important topic to discuss (sorry for making this so long)

so you seem pretty pro trump at this point but I’ll still humor you if you want to be so forgiving of him.

Who told you those sexual assault cases weren’t true? Those victims still stand by their stories.

And I said I’m not saying that Biden is great. But he was still working with Trumps fuck up. Also idk how much you know about a vice president, but they can’t really do much when they’re not president. I’m not saying Harris did everything she coudlve done, but being a vp has a lot less power than you think.

And for reproductive rights, yeah right. Those fuckers don’t give a DAMN about any cases. Even if they say they do. They want it gone, point blank period.

And one of his first days of office he took away trans people from the military. He spews homophobia.

Do more research. This is embarrassing

[whateverisbeautiful]

Do you have any fav moments with Rick/Carl, Michonne/Carl and/or Michonne/Judith from the show? (I don't mention RJ since he didn't get a lot of screentime)

Yes! I wrote them out below. It was particularly hard to narrow down my favorite Michonne and Carl moments since I love so many of their exchanges but after some thought, I think I was able to solidify my fav Rick/Carl, Michonne/Carl, and Michonne/Judith moments. I wish RJ would have had more screen time and one-on-one moments with Michonne in TWD. If ever we see the Grimes family again, I’d love to see some Rick/RJ and Michonne/RJ moments to add to this list. 

Favorite Rick/Carl Moments

1) When Rick first gives Carl the sheriff hat after he’s been shot in season 2. That storyline with Rick quite literally trying to give everything he could of himself to keep Carl alive was always really moving. And I also love this season 2 scene when Rick has a very honest and transparent conversation with Carl.

2) When Rick and Carl are gunning down those walkers during that chaotic night at the prison in season 4. It showed how this father and son are cut from the same cloth and the layered look Rick gives Carl as he sees how much his son has adapted to this world is so memorable to me.

3) When Rick and Carl have that conversation toward the end of 4.09 and Rick tells Carl about how he’s a man now and Carl tells him about how he ate all that pudding. After all their tension and conflict in that episode, I love the way they started to repair their connection at that moment. 

Favorite Michonne/Judith Moments

1) When Michonne holds Judith for the first time at the prison. That is one of the most beautiful and touching scenes of TWD to me. It’s such a powerful moment watching Michonne go from barely wanting to hold the baby to fully embracing her and letting out a lot of the emotion she’s kept inside about Andre. Danai did an incredible job depicting the moment Michonne goes from distant to mother. And the way she and the baby look at each other before the embrace is so special, especially knowing those two will truly be mother and daughter.

2) When Michonne and Judith have that conversation in 9.14 and Judith says “You’re my mom. You chose to be. Because you love me and I love you.” I loved hearing that. I also always love the way Michonne uses her shirt to patch Judith up and just seeing them get to open up more as a mom and daughter. In 9.14, I also was really glad to hear the younger Judith call Michonne “mommy,” since I’d been wanting to hear that for a while. I don’t like the excessive brutality and trauma they put Michonne through in 9.14 and that they tried to land on the message that Michonne should actually take care of all these communities more, even when they don’t extend nearly the same care for her. But what I do like about the episode is Danai and Cailey’s great performances and that Michonne and Judith got multiple scenes to depict and strengthen their relationship.

3) I feel like I’m forgetting some other Michonne/Judith scenes that might’ve made the list, but from what I can remember, I always really love that quick scene in season 8 when Michonne says goodbye to Judith and says she’ll be back soon with her daddy. So so so cute and I love that the first time we hear Judith speak it’s with her mom Michonne. 

Favorite Michonne/Carl Moments

1) When Michonne gets the family photo for Carl in Clear. I love that their bond was cemented in that moment. And it’ll always be so meaningful that Michonne hands Carl a photo of his mom while also going on to become his mom herself. I also really appreciate when she reveals she went in to grab the rainbow cat as well. I think it was a great choice to have her grab the cat sculpture for her rather than it being like a toy for Carl or something, because she was also offering up a bit about herself through it. Beforehand she probably seemed more stoic and had more of this black cat energy but in grabbing this rainbow cat it showed Carl that there’s a playfulness and bright vibrancy to her too and it was sweet seeing the way that moment endeared her to him.

2) When Michonne and Carl go on that run in 4.11 and open up about Michonne’s past. (Also honorable mention to their soy milk conversation in this episode). I love how eager Carl was to get to know her more and how Michonne found such a good balance between treating Carl like an equal and a kid. It was great seeing Carl want Michonne to feel assured that everything she was sharing was safe with him and it never fails to move me when he tries to offer them both some comfort by saying maybe Andre and Judith are together somewhere.

3) When Michonne and Carl have that heart-to-heart in the woods after the Claimer situation. That scene really showed the way in which they trust each other and can confide in each other about even the deepest darkest things. Michonne fully became Carl’s parent in season 4 and that was evident in so many scenes, including when Carl rests in her lap. I always really love their talk in the woods because Carl clearly feels super safe with Michonne and Michonne feels safe with him to share the hardest details from the day she lost her family. It’s so meaningful to hear Michonne say that Carl and Rick brought her back and to assure Carl that he doesn’t have to be afraid of her or his dad. And the fact that Carl felt like he was just another monster too is so sad but it makes it extra important that he had someone like Michonne in his life to admit that to and feel less alone with.

4) When Carl and Michonne have that conversation on the porch in season 6, just before Rick and Michonne officially become Richonne. I love that in explaining why he didn’t just put Deanna down himself, Carl basically confirms that he views Michonne as a mom. And you can see in Michonne’s expression that she knows Carl saying “I’d do it for you’ is him saying that she’s a mother to him. I love that Judith is included in the scene too (and that it truly sounds like she says ‘Michonne’ when Michonne approaches.) It’s also sweet how the scene starts with Carl telling Judith about the North Star and then Michonne arrives, as she’s truly like the Grimes family’s North Star. I love that this scene between Michonne, Carl, and Judith was included just before Michonne and Rick had their romantic moment because it affirmed that these four were already family in every way that's important.

[sleepyparalysisdmon]

I saw this and thought of you

An Ah! Love one shot in which Jeonghan gets a little gift for Y/N. 

Requested? Yes!

Genre: just a massive amount of fluff. I am so soft for this couple.

Word count: 1.5k

A/N: You definitely don’t have to read Ah! Love to enjoy this, but if you would like the full context, you can find it here. Fair warning, the word count got away from me a bit...

Jeonghan is in the bathroom brushing his teeth when he hears Y/N huff. It’s loud enough to be heard over the scrubbing of the tooth brush in his mouth and he peeks his head out. He hasn’t live with Y/N officially for very long, but it also didn’t take long to do so once finally getting together. He’d kind of already lived a lifetime just trying to figure out how to get here and he felt a ton of relief in being able to say that he’s in a shared bathroom, next to a shared bedroom, in a shared apartment. He liked sharing things with Y/N. Loved it even. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” He says through the tooth paste, careful not to dribble any on his shirt since he’s already dressed for work. 

Y/N is digging through her side of the closet, tossing shoes around. “Can’t find any shoes to wear with this.” 

He dips into the bathroom to finish brushing his teeth before stepping out and giving Y/N a once over (or maybe a few times over) and finally says, “Boots? It’s getting kind of cold, after all.”

“Eh,” Y/N groans. “You're right, but I have to be on my feet a lot today. They won’t be very comfortable.”

“Oh. Well, then just wear your chucks. They’ll look fine with that,” he reassures. He thinks she could pull off a trash bag, much less sneakers and dress clothes.

“Can’t,” Y/N laments. “They ripped last week. Badly.” She pulls out another pair of sneakers, though far less loved than the aforementioned chucks that she's in mourning for. ��Will this look okay?”

He nods, because really, what’s the difference between one pair of black sneakers over another at the end of the day? Her expression tells him there is most certainly a difference. “That’s tragic,” he says genuinely. “We’ll need to get you another pair.”

“Oh, yeah. But maybe next month,” Y/N says. Money is not exactly free-flowing for two grad students working entry level jobs and trying to afford an apartment in a major city. They’ve made it work, but he knows she’s aggressively penny pinching and will probably continue to for the foreseeable future. “Anyway, they were like ten years old. An incredibly long life for a pair of shoes I wore nearly every day.”

“Chan will be devastated. He puked on those. They were special.”

Y/N bursts into giggles, pelting a pair of socks at him. “You have no idea how gross that was! Wonwoo and I both almost threw up ourselves as a result of trying to clean that up.” 

Jeonghan giggles too, returning the socks and kissing her. “Oh, I have no doubt. I had to take care of him that night, remember? I pretended he didn't exist for a week afterwards.” One more kiss to her lips and he finally sighs. “Don’t be late, I’ll see you later.”

“Love you!” 

His heart still races a little hearing her say that so freely like it's an old habit, but he really, genuinely doesn’t have time to run back and kiss her again, so he yells, “Love you too!” on the way out of the room. He'll make up for it by smothering her with affection when he gets home later.

~

A few weeks later, he meets Seungcheol for lunch. They both work around the block from each other and regularly meet like this, mostly as a way to avoid the awkward lunch conversation with coworkers in their respective break rooms. It's also becoming harder to coordinate time to hang out now that their worlds center around a pesky little thing called full-time employment. Thankful as he is for it, he misses his friends.

They’re walking back from lunch when they pass a store and something catches his eye in the window. Jeonghan stalls out and Seungcheol raises an eyebrow. 

“Are you shopping for you?” 

Jeonghan elbows him in the ribs. “No, dumbass. Who do you think it would be for?”

“I know, I’m just messing with you,” he admits with a smile. “Her birthday is coming up, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but… you know how she is about gifts,” Jeonghan trails off. Outside of a single gift exchange for Christmas last year, gifts are just not something that the two of them do. Some couples do all of the gifts - birthdays, major holidays, and just because. He doesn’t know if Y/N will ever be that kind of person, no matter how much he’d like to spoil her. It’s equally endearing and frustrating how non-materialistic she is.

Seungcheol’s shrugging. "You've mentioned it… but this one is functional. She’ll use the shit out of this.”

It’s like a lightbulb goes off above Jeonghan’s head. Seungcheol’s absolutely right and Jeonghan has no idea why he’s hesitated outside of this store for so long. “You won’t hear me say this often, but you’re right,” he tells his friend. “You can go on if you want, I’m going inside.”

Seungcheol waves him off, saying he needs to get back to the office anyway. 

~

Y/N’s birthday dinner is chaotic. Somehow, everyone managed to make themselves available. Seokmin even came into town to visit specifically for this. This dinner is at the tail end of a particularly hellish week for Y/N in grad school - one filled with a few all-nighters and presentations - in addition to working her normal hours at her full-time job. Jeonghan can see she’s burnt the candle at both ends and she doesn’t want to say anything to ruin the celebration, but Jeonghan will. He makes an excuse that it’s his turn with the birthday girl and lets them take it however they want as he guides her out of the restaurant. He expects the group to go bar hopping anyway, something that he knows Y/N would bail on in a split second.

In the car, he buckles her in, patting her thigh lovingly. “You did good, baby,” he praises, knowing how reluctant she was to show up to her own birthday dinner. She loves her friends and would never dream of disappointing them, but loathes that kind of attention being on her.

Y/N gives him a weak smile, “Thanks. And thanks for the escape route, even if it was kind of suggestive.” 

Jeonghan laughs. “It doesn’t have to be suggestive, but it could be. That’s up to the birthday girl.”

He helps her peel off her shoes at the door and they both change into pajamas, piling up on the couch. He knows this is how she really wanted to spend her birthday, so he puts on the show that they’ve been binging and lets her cuddle into his side. 

“Hey,” he pats her thigh eventually to get her attention, but he ends up waking her. She blinks up at him sleepily. “I got you something, but you can’t be mad, okay?”

Y/N frowns. “Hannie, no. You know I don’t need anything.” Despite the protest, he’s getting up to pull a box from a hiding place in the hall closet. 

“Open it. If you still think it’s unnecessary, I’ll return it,” he promises, placing the box in her lap. She sighs, resigned, and rips the wrapping paper, scoffing when she sees the logo on the box. 

“Hannie, you didn’t have to do this. I would have gotten another pair myself eventually,” Y/N scolds, hands brushing across the top of the box of chucks. 

“I know, but I beat you to it. Take a look,” Jeonghan gestures.

Y/N looks at him, perplexed. “Aren’t they just black?” She doesn’t really wait for an answer, curiosity getting the best of her. Her jaw drops and she pulls out a glittery pair of black chucks. “No way,” she starts in disbelief. “No way!” This one is a little choked and he watches as she tears up. 

“I couldn’t help it. I saw it and thought of you. You know I’ll always feed both your chuck habit and your glitter habit.”

Y/N puts the shoe back in the box, hands covering her face as her shoulders shake a little bit. He wraps her up in a tight hug. “Is this a good cry or a bad cry?” He asks, mostly because this happens so rarely that he’s not sure. He can count on one hand the times that he’s seen her cry, and she’s usually quick about wiping her eyes and moving past it. He likes that she's tough like that, admires it even, but also likes that she'll let her guard down like this in front of him. Like he's a safe place.

“Good,” Y/N answers, voice jagged. “It’s nice. Thank you, Hannie. I like that you see me. Really see me, you know?”

Jeonghan does. He’s always felt that way about her. When he met her nearly a year and a half ago, he was totally unnerved by how she saw right through him, but now he loves it. He wants her to know that he’s trying to get her the same way she gets him. 

“So, I don’t have to return them?” He asks with a hesitant smile, though he thinks he knows the answer already. 

Y/N gives a watery laugh, wiping her eyes. “No, you don’t. I’ll keep these. You’ll never be able to take it from me.”

“At least not for another decade,” Jeonghan muses. “I’ll find you another pair then.” He hopes her heart is even half as full as his is. 

[revelboo]

I love to check you blog every day when I get up and when I go to bed and it's funny that you posted the shockwave fic literally before I got into bed, just after I was thinking of whirl and shockwave while getting ready to sleep. 🥺 Can't wait to see more tfp shockwave around here

A bit of serendipity 😊

This one’s 18+ 💀 but not for fun reasons, rather dubious, horrific science on Shockwave’s part

Point of Extinction Pt 4

TFP Shockwave x Reader

• Even if you can’t see what’s going on in the lab from your opaque box, you can’t shut out the sound. A high pitched bleating that just gets sharper, more awful until you’re pressed into a corner of your box, knees drawn tight to your body and your palms pressed against your ears in an attempt to shut it out. When that soul wrenching sound abruptly ends after what feels like forever, you’re shaking uncontrollably and sick to your stomach.

• “Experiment fourteen. Failure,” Shockwave growls at the drone placidly hovering and recording. Every failure brings him closer, though. Step by step to creating a new home. A fail safe in case Cybertron can’t be revived, but progress is almost painfully slow. Terraforming organic life much more erratic than he’d like. Flicking the end of his cannon at the drone to end the recording and go charge, he turns back to his other experiment. “Come, Thirteen.” Leaning closer to find you huddled in a corner, trembling.

• Your head comes up at the sound of Shockwave’s voice, panic seizing you as he reaches into your cage, his servos wet with blood. “Don’t.” Shoving back tighter into your corner when he makes to pick you up. Terrified you’re next. That you’re about to suffer whatever it was he just did to some poor animal. Hoping it was an animal not a person making that sound. Freezing, Shockwave stares at you, that unreadable face dipping to look at his hand like he’d forgotten. Servos trembling slightly as he pulls away, disappearing from sight.

• Don’t. You can’t do this. Moving to cleanse his hand, for a moment his processor is tangled in the chaos of a memory that isn’t truly his. Hands on his arms, seizing him against his will. Dragging him… somewhere. The memory shreds when he tries to pull it close. Screaming. He remembers screaming when they took his optics. No, he only has one. He’s only ever had one. He’s not sure, though. Servos of his one hand shaking, he turns his attention to the cannon his other arm ends in. Sometimes he swears he can feel those nonexistent servos. They’re like the memories that aren’t his, but are. Wrong, hurtful things that snare him. Turning back to your cage, he leans closer bothered by the way you shake. “Thirteen.”

• He’s back and you shudder as he reaches for you again. His big hand is clean now, still wet, but you can’t make yourself go to him willingly. But you can’t make him angry either if your survival depends on being good. Being cooperative. “You’re not going to hurt me, right?” You ask, eyes burning as you stand and walk over to him. Putting yourself in his servos.

• Carefully curling his servos around you, he lifts you free. Something about how insubstantial and warm you feel in his grip skitters through him. Trusting him when you probably shouldn’t. He can’t even trust his own memories, how can you trust him? “No,” he says. Comforting your fear even though it’s illogical. It doesn’t, shouldn’t, matter, but it somehow does. You make a sharp sound, staring at fourteen and you start shaking harder.

• It was a deer. At least you think it was. Why he’d thought a deer should have that many, spidery legs or a skull that split open to house awkward looking mandibles is beyond you. It’s a half formed mess of flesh, fur, and metal. The bones partially warped with liquid metal and twisting out of its rib cage, viscera shiny and wet spilling out. Dry heaving, you press your face against his servos. Don’t want to see what he’s done. What he might do to you. “Why?” He hasn’t hurt you, so you’d convinced yourself that you were safe. But this? He’s not safe and definitely doesn’t actually care for you. He’s a monster.

• Rooted to the ground, he stares at the failed experiment. Something uneasy in the back of his processor whispering that he should have cleaned it up before retrieving you, but it hadn’t occurred to him that the sight would bother you. The way you’re shaking in his hand is clawing at him, twisting in his spark. A feeling he can almost remember, an emotion that he doesn’t have anything more than a dull echo of and can’t understand. Illogical even as he brings you closer to his chassis, turning so you can’t see the mess anymore and running a trembling servo along your arm. Needing to understand. To remember.

Previous

[demigod-shenanigans]

Jason, Piper and Leo trying to play one of these elementary school jump rope games on the Argo 2

I was trying to figure out how to write this as a snippet however it’s been ages since I myself have last done a jump rope game and it turns out I have no idea what I’m doing so I hope it’s okay in headcanon/summary form instead! The good news is that way it’s gonna be a bit longer which I hope will be nice :)

-This is most definitely happening on the way from Camp Half-Blood to New Rome. Everyone’s got a lot of nervous energy and there is so much riding on all this and also Leo and Piper are about to meet Jason’s first family/former friends for the first time and everyone is stressed about it!

-Piper initially suggests it as a way for them to distract themselves and get some excess energy out. Leo is immediately down. Jason is just confused because he’s never done jump rope games before and asks if it’s a training exercise. Piper and Leo just stare at him

-Alternatively, if Jason is just pacing/wanting to be alone for a bit pre getting to New Rome, maybe Leo and Piper are doing it on their own at first (potentially like a Buddy Jumping thing where they both hold one end of the rope and try to jump synchronized. They’re very bad at it) and Jason eventually walks in on this and just stands there being all ????

-I think they have children’s games in New Rome to be clear I just don’t think jump rope is that common (also even if it was, Jason probably wouldn’t remember it due to the whole wiped memories incident combined with him being a child soldier/terminal workaholic)

-Either way, Leo promptly declares it’s his and Piper’s Sacred Duty to teach Jason jump rope games until they get to New Rome to help distract him

-Also for the record they’re not using an actual jump rope. Someone would have had to pack that and no one did. They’re using whatever kind of workshop rope Leo’s tool belt gave them when prompted.

-Piper and Leo swing for a bit and at first they’re really baffled that Jason seems to be way too good at this for someone who’s never done it before, until one of them is like hang on and suddenly notices Jason is just. Floating slightly above the ground so that’s why he has no trouble avoiding the swinging rope

-Jason does not understand what he’s doing wrong since he thought the point was just to avoid the rope. They explain it again and Jason is like “oh okay so it’s like a leg exercise thing I get it now” Leo has his head in his hands going “it’s not a training exercise dude it’s just for fun!”

-Jason is way worse now and also comments at least once that actually this isn’t even fun but he does kind of enjoy it and also just appreciates the distraction (he does totally still think of it as a sort of training exercise but honestly that probably just means he enjoys it more for that reason. Not that he’ll admit that to Leo and Piper tho)

-When Piper and Jason swing the rope for Leo, Leo keeps insisting that Jason use the winds to make the rope go faster because he’s good at this and wants to show off. It does not end well. Piper actually does better than Leo and he is very grumpy about it

-By the end of this whole thing they’re all in a heap on the floor tangled in the rope but they’re also laughing so that was totally worth it