#and drew new things for a handful of them

[chlix]

treatment resistant

bf! chan x fem! reader: he comforts you during a mental health episode

pairing: chan x reader

genre: ANGST like seriously, turns into comfort at the end tho 🙏🏾

word count: 4.7k

warnings: graphic depictions of depression, anxiety/anxiety attacks, and psychosis (paranoia); self worth issues; general self-loathing

a/n: i wrote this in one sitting about six months ago and deliberated posting it, but it's almost the end of the year so i feel like i should release it. i used to feel so validated by fics where reader is depressed and gets comforted, but she was never as depressed as i sometimes was, so i drew a bit from life for this one. everyone please be safe and read the warnings <3

It doesn't start with the dishes. In fact, you think your therapist might tell you that it's not about the dishes at all, but about your own poor self-image, or lack of emotional regulation, or about a thousand other things that are wrong with the way you perceive yourself and the world.

The truth is that lately you've been sleeping way too late and waking up too early, and you're so tired that you can't eat, which makes you so hungry that you can't take naps. You're between jobs and the outlook hasn't been great, your best friend keeps blowing you off in favor of her new boyfriend, and just this week you found out that your favorite bakery is no longer making the souffles that you've been using as a pick me up since you moved into this building.

You don't do well with change, or rejection, or honestly anything, lately. You wake up stressed and you go to sleep stressed. You keep your phone on Do Not Disturb because you can't bear receiving notifications. Just today you've talked yourself out of taking showers twice, only to have a meltdown when you tried to sit on your bed because you felt too dirty to touch your own sheets. You sit on the floor instead. You eat a singular banana for lunch, just to make your headache go away. Your headache does not go away. You feel both unreal and painfully solid, sinking into the ground and on the verge of floating away.

Your boyfriend, Chan, keeps texting you updates about his day, and answering them feels like an exercise in performance art. You scroll through your previous texts to make sure you're adding the right amount of exclamation points, that you're using the same recent emojis. It's like cosplaying a happier version of yourself. A better version, a version that he could love, as opposed to how you are now: greasy and gross and plastered to the floor in your hallway. The idea of him seeing you like this fills you terror, or at least it would if you hadn't burned out your capacity for feeling things already.

A new message pops up.

Chan: Hey baby ❤️ Was thinking of swinging by tonight after work? I can bring dinner with me

Just the thought of eating threatens to make you vomit. You suck in a breath and hold it as you type,

You: If you want something specific go for it! I already started cooking but we could have it another time

Chan: I don't want to waste all your hard work. We can have what you're making. I'm sure it'll be delicious :)

You: I can promise edible. Delicious is up in the air rn 😭

Chan: I have faith in you even if you don't ❤️. I'll be there around seven today

You: Okay! I love you sm, see you then! ❤️❤️❤️

You lock your phone and throw it across the room. Why do you do this to yourself? "Already started cooking?" You haven't showered today.  Normally you try to deter Chan from coming over when you're having a freakazoid episode, but now you've basically invited him in? You have to be normal for an entire evening?

You fall on your back on the ground and put your hands over your face, blocking out the sunshine that insists on steaming through the cracks in the drapes. Your heart is beating so hard you worry you're going into cardiac arrest.

Get off the fucking ground, y/n, you tell yourself. You have to go cook dinner for your boyfriend.

"There is something very wrong with me," you say out loud, very quietly. The silence of your apartment swallows the words. They vanish, as if never said.

You get up.

It takes you two tries to make something even passing as edible. Your head is all over the place, and you burn batches of oil and veggies before you manage to stay in your body long enough to finish making anything. It takes an embarrassing amount of pans and spoons and bowls to make something that should be simple, and as dishes pile up in the sink you feel stupider and stupider. Why are you acting like you don't know how to cook? It's not hard to make some vegetables in stew. You don't know why it's taking every appliance in your kitchen and all of your concentration to execute such a simple task.

By the time you're done cooking, you've stressed yourself out enough that you're getting a tension headache. You close your eyes and brace yourself against the sink, rallying yourself.

Just do these dishes and then you can sit down, you think. Just one more thing.

You pick up a sponge.

You put the sponge down.

There is no way you can do these dishes.

It doesn't so much hit you like a train as the realization slowly creeps up on you. It's not that many dishes, really. It looks like a lot, because the pots and bowls are so large, but numerically there's very few items in your sink. It wouldn't even take 30 minutes to clean everything and leave it in the rack for later.

But that's not happening. The idea fills you with a cold and genuine dread, just as strong and perverse as when you'd tried to shower earlier, or sit on your bed. You can't turn on the tap because then the water will touch you, and it will feel Wrong, and then your whole body will feel Wrong, and then you'll die of Sudden Onset Wrongness. And now that you think about it, a lot of your anxiety today has revolved around water, and isn't that a symptom of rabies? Hydrophobia? Did you get rabies somehow? Would you know if you had rabies? Maybe that's the thing that's wrong with you- you're not depressed or insane or just a terrible person living a terrible life. You're just rabid. There's something eating your brain, and that's what's making you into such a fucking failure of a person.

While you're debating the possibility of brain-eating viruses, Chan comes home from work. You automatically turn towards him, a bright smile on your face, and rush to greet him.

"Hey, Channie!" you say, bouncing over to him with a pep you do not feel. "I'm so happy you're here!"

And you are, mostly. You love your boyfriend, really you do. He's loving and attentive, and he's never made you feel like anything less than the number one priority in his life. You have similar values and work ethics, which keeps you on the same page through most difficult periods in either of your lives and careers. You haven't been together long, but your bond is solid, and you really believe you're going to make it far together.

You also really believe you won't if he ever finds out what a complete nutcase you are. So you hide it. You grin at him and you appear light and joyful and easygoing and you brush off his concerns with adages and placations, and you redirect the conversation back to him, because you're a good listener and you love the sound of his voice and you much prefer that activity to any activity that involves you explaining how you laid on the floor for five hours and had an emotional breakdown while slicing cabbage. He has other things to worry about, other problems to solve without adding yourself to the list. You're supposed to be his respite, not another draining task. He doesn't need to know how hard it's been lately. You shouldn't have to say it.

So he doesn't. And you don't.

"Hey baby," he says. He sets his stuff down and kisses you in greeting. "How was your day?"

"Okay," you say. The answer feels curt, but you don't want to ruminate any more on your absolutely fruitless afternoon.

Chan doesn't comment on your strange answer. He takes his shoes off and hangs up his coat, and as he's about to walk past you he spots the mountain of dishes in the kitchen.

"Oh, were you about to do the dishes? I can do them if you'd like."

"You just got home," you protest. "You should go sit down."

"But you've been standing just as long cooking dinner, right? I should do my part."

His insistence is making something terrible expand in your gut. Instead of being flattered at his offer to help, his words feel like a violent condemnation. You should've done the dishes before he got home. You should've finished cleaning the kitchen altogether, so that he can relax in a clean environment. What kind of stupid fucking girlfriend are you, where you can't even do basic chores around the house?

"No, it's okay. I already psyched myself up to do them, so I'll do them."

Chan hums in a tone that's either playful or mocking, you genuinely can't tell which. "Okay, if you say so. Don't be afraid to tap out if the dishes get the better of you."

Great. He thinks you're so stupid you couldn't do the dishes if you tried.

You subtly regulate your breathing as you turn towards the sink. Chan disappears into the apartment out of view, and you give yourself thirty seconds to push your freak-out as far down inside you as you can.

"You're not an idiot, y/n," you tell yourself. "You can do some fucking dishes."

You reach under the sink and pull out some disposable plastic gloves. They make your hands look weirdly swollen and unfamiliar, as if they aren't your hands anymore. For a bizarre moment, you're convinced that they're genuinely not, that someone else's hands have been put on your body. You close your eyes so hard sparks fly in front of you.

Stop being crazy. Do the fucking dishes.

You turn on the water and pick up a bowl.

Chan reappears. You flash him a smile, but say nothing. Chan grins back, all dimples and crescent eyes. He's so handsome it makes you want to rip your own skin off. You thank God every day that you were born beautiful, because you could never have caught his attention with your personality alone. He'd be completely out of your league, and honestly, maybe he still is.

That thought gets shut down and pushed away. One crisis at a time. You don't have hands and you might have rabies, but you definitely have a boyfriend who loves you. There's no point in kicking yourself while you're down.

You turn back to the sink.

You cannot do these fucking dishes.

"Work was funny today," Chan says as he moves over to the stove and opens the pot.

"Mm?"

"Just some technical issues in the studio. Nothing serious, but it gave us some good bloopers."

You pick up a glass cup. You can see your reflection mirrored back at you in the curve, and your eyes are so wide. Have they always been that wide? Are your eyes drier these days than they normally are? You can't tell, because every part of you feels both dehydrated and submerged under water.

"This is really good, babe," Chan says.

You blink. "What?"

Chan holds up his bowl. "The stew. It's great. I told you it would be delicious."

You let out a pleased sound. "Thank you baby. Your encouragement really motivated me."

It was the wrong thing to say. You have no idea how, but from the way Chan's expression changes slightly as he looks at you, you know he's caught on to you acting weird.

"Is everything alright?"

Shit.

"With me? Yeah, I guess so. I've just been really tired lately."

"On the job hunt?" he asks sympathetically. It's like a stake in your heart.

"As always."

He wraps an arm around you and presses a kiss to your hair. "Don't worry, baby. You're super qualified in your field. You'll find something soon."

You need him to stop touching you or you'll start throwing pans at the wall.

"I hope so," is all you say.

"I know so. Just keep faith."

You hum again, noncommittal. It's like you're slowly losing the ability to speak. And the gloves are too tight and the water is so loud and you're nauseous and your head still hurts and it's probably not even the stress, it's probably the rabies, it's turning your brain into swiss cheese as you speak.

After another tight squeeze, Chan lets you go and retrieves his bowl from where he'd set it down. You hope he might leave you to go eat in the living room, but instead he hovers on the opposite side of the island, and continues telling you about his day. Normally, you'd love to hear the play by play of every crazy thing that happened with his group members and managers. Today, it's like nails on a chalkboard. The story is endless, keeps weaving around other anecdotes and tangents and you wish he would just shut up for one second so you can pull yourself together but you can't say that, because he isn't doing anything wrong, you're just being crazy, you're a bad and lazy girlfriend and you can't even put your own issues on hold long enough to listen to your boyfriend talk about his day. Everything is wrong wrong wrong, and you're Wrong and something is Wrong With You and it just keeps going it never stopswhy can't it all just stop-

"Y/N?"

Your name sounds like it's coming from a thousand miles away.

"Y/N? Are you okay?"

You turn to look at Chan, see his eyebrows pinched together in concern. You have no idea how long he's been saying your name.

Very calmly, you strip your gloves off and lay them to the side. You turn off the water.

"Sorry," you say. "Give me one moment, please."

You walk past him and down the hall to your bedroom, where you very calmly and gently close the door behind yourself. You climb on to your bed, filthy clothes and all, and pull two of the pillows from the end to rest on top of each other. You tie your hair back with a hair tie, press your face into the stack of pillows below you so that your whole face is covered.

And you just start screaming.

Screaming is therapeutic, apparently. Or at least, it's on the approved list of emotional regulation activities your therapist had given you. As long as you aren't screaming at anyone, it can be an effective form of release. It helps you release the tension from your core and focus that nervous energy into sound and action.

You scream into the pillow as loud as you can. You aren't sure how much it's doing to muffle your sound, but the belief that it's helping allows you to let go. It's tearing at your throat, the intensity of it. Once you start it's hard to stop, you just keep going and going and going, as if you're expelling demons.

When you finally peter out, you pause for a moment, then push yourself onto your knees. You're dizzy. Blood is rushing in your ears. It's oddly hard to breathe, as if you can't get enough air in your lungs. Even the fact of your own body is too much for you. You wish you could abandon it, just for a moment. You wish you could observe this from the outside so that you would better know how to fix it.

Eventually, your breaths calm. The buzzing recedes, leaving room for rational thought. And your chest feels....lighter. No longer is there a bomb sitting in your sternum, waiting to explode. The pressure has equalized. You look down at your hands, fisted in your bedsheets, and they look like your hands.

Cool. Cool cool cool cool cool.

You think you can probably do the dishes now.

Gingerly, you climb out of bed and make your way to the door. You open it, prepared to put your smile back on and apologize for your rude exit.

Chan is outside your door.

His eyes are wide with alarm. He looks stiff, hesitant. One of his hands is outstretched towards the door, as if about to knock.

Your face goes blank, wiring short-circuiting as you try to figure out what to say.

"Hey, y/n," Chan says, slow, testing. "Are you okay?"

Your script restarts, and a big smile automatically draws itself on your face. "Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Sorry about that. I just got a little overwhelmed."

"Overwhelmed?"

"Yeah. It's fine, though. Come on, you can finish telling me your story."

You grab his hand and try to pull him away from the bedroom. He doesn't budge.

"Will you tell me what's going on?"

You turn back to look at him. "Nothing's going on."

"Baby, I understand if you don't want to talk to me about it yet. But you don't need to pretend there's nothing wrong. You don't need to lie to me."

"I'm not lying."

"I heard you screaming in there."

Ice flushes through your body.

"Ah. Well, it's like I said. I got a little overwhelmed. I'm not hurt or anything. Sorry if I worried you."

"A little overwhelmed?" He's getting frustrated now, put off by your blase tone. "You look like you're on the verge of a nervous breakdown."

"No, I don't," you say, because you don't. You know what you look like when you get like this. You've trained your expressions so well that your face doesn't flush. Your eyes don't tear up. You have to look put together, because if you don't look put together then you can't convince yourself that you are put together.

"Y/n. I know you. I can tell when something's up." He sighs. "I've thought you were a bit distant for the past couple of weeks but I figured you would come to me eventually. But here we are, and you're having an anxiety attack right in front of me and you won't even admit it."

"I'm not having an anxiety attack."

"Love, I know what anxiety looks like. If you'd just let me help-"

"I'm not having an anxiety attack. I don't have anxiety. I would know if I did."

"Everyone has bad days and hard times, baby. You don't have to be defensive. I'm not accusing you of anything."

"You say you're not accusing me of anything after unilaterally diagnosing me with anxiety?"

Chan lets out a long breath. "That wasn't what I meant. I just mean-"

"You can't just assign me disorders when you decide I'm acting irrationally. You don't know my medical history. You don't even know me that well. You don't know if my behavior is normal or not."

"You can't be getting upset at me for 'not knowing you' when it's clear you're actively hiding things from me," Chan says, patience thinning. "I see you're in distress and you're picking apart my wording? I'm trying to help you."

"I didn't say I wanted your help."

"You're my partner! Of course I'm going to help you!"

"You can't!"

"Why not?"

"Because-" You choke on it and slam your lips shut.

Chan's face is drawn in irritation. He makes a go on gesture. But you can't go on. It's like the words are trapped in bubbling tar.

Your silence stretches. Chan sighs and drags a hand down his face in exhaustion. He'd gone out of his way to come visit you and now he regrets it. You've wasted his evening and ruined his mood. It's only a matter of time before he realizes you ruin everything. Hell realize he's drowning in all your mess and decide to save himself, and then you'll be alone again.

You draw in a breath of your own, but you're still lightheaded.

"Why did you invite me over if you didn't want me to see you like this?" he asks finally. "You don't have to see me every day if that's not what you want."

All the anger is gone from his voice. He's being so patient that your own stubbornness is acrid in comparison. You swallow, hard. Every muscle in your body is tense. You have the pull the words out of your throat with hooks, one syllable at a time.

"I wanted to see you," you explain, stilted and pathetic. "I thought I could pretend for long enough."

"Pretend what?"

That I'm not crazy. That I'm not falling apart. That I'm normal and easygoing and a joy to be around and definitely not rabid.

It's impossible to say. You don't know what's wrong with you, but you know that something is. You can't do the dishes. And you can't do this.

Your knees buckle and you sink to the floor of the hallway.

"Y/n?"

You don't respond. You're just staring straight ahead, all your thoughts whirring so fast that you're having trouble parsing any of them.

"Y/n? Hey, baby, sweetheart, can you look at me?"

You blink, and he's in front of you, on your level. He's trying to look calm but you can see the panic in his eyes. It only makes your chest tighter. You're dragging him down, you're cursing him. He needs to get out or you'll have his blood on your hands.

"We need to break up," you whisper.

Chan reels back like he's been slapped. "What?"

"We can't- we need to break up. I shouldn't have invited you over. I'm sorry."

"I..." Chan is at a loss for words. "You don't mean that."

But you do mean it. With everything in your body. "We can't be together."

"Baby, I don't know what you're thinking, but we don't have to break up if you don't want to. I don't want to break up."

You feel sick with his sureness. How can he claim to know you better than you know yourself?

"You don't get it," you say. Your tone is unnatural, words strange on your tongue. "We just can't be together."

"Can you tell me why you feel that way?"

"Just look at me."

"I am looking at you. And all I see is my beautiful, wonderful, perfect girlfriend who is having a very bad day and might be making some hasty decisions."

"Not a bad day. A bad life. I'm fucked up, Chan." The words come out with such a quiet malice that it shocks even yourself. "I can't even do the fucking dishes."

"I can do the dishes, love. I said it wasn't a big deal."

"No no no. It's not about the dishes." You're struggling to explain- the words are getting twisted, the thoughts all merge together- "I can't do anything. It's not about the fucking dishes. It's about- I can't-"

And you burst into tears

"I'm sorry," you say. "I'm really sorry. I just-"

"It's okay," he soothes. "It's okay. I understand now."

He doesn't. He can't, and you know that full well. You shake your head, vision blurring from your tears. You're so embarassed and it's making you cry worse. You think you must look so ugly right now. He must be repulsed by you. You're repulsed by yourself, your own misery making your skin crawl.

"Can I touch you, baby? I want to hold you."

You shouldn't. You'll infect him. You'll ruin him and take away everything that makes him good. Why is he even still talking to you? Why doesn't he leave?

"You don't have to-to feel obligated. I can just- if you give me a second-"

"I don't feel obligated," he says, patient but firm. "I love you. I want to hold you all the time."

Something in your chest cracks. You're so weak. It's pathetic. But you can't hold yourself back anymore.

"Please," you whisper, defeated.

Chan reaches out and pulls you into his arm. You're both still on the ground, but he rearranges you so you can hide your face in his shoulder, and you do, too humiliated by your tears to be able to look at his face. He presses a kiss to the top of your head and your traitorous body relaxes without your permission.

"You've been struggling for a long time haven't you?" he asks. "You didn't want me to pity you."

You don't say anything. You can't bear to.

"Well, I don't pity you. I think you're very strong, trying to deal with this on your own. You made me dinner today even though you didn't really want to, right? That was very kind of you to do. You take such good care of me, baby. You light up my life. Isn't it fair that I should get to take care of you too? Can't I return the favor by helping you now?"

"It's not the same," you mumble into his shirt, because the magnitude of the two asks isn't comparable. You chopped up some vegetables and threw them in a pot. He is witnessing you have a mental breakdown in your hallway. You're not equally yoked. It's too much to ask of anyone.

"Whether it's the same or not doesn't matter. Love isn't transactional. It doesn't have to be equal effort every single time. This isn't a favor I'm returning. I'm comforting you because you're upset, and I hate to see you cry. Do you believe me when I say I want to see you happy and smiling? That I would do anything to ensure it?"

You finally pull away from him, wiping away your tears on your sleeve. "You might have to go find a new girlfriend then," you say, voice cracking from the tears and the weight of your despair.

"I don't want a new girlfriend. I want you." He's hesitant, but he continues. "There are ways of getting help, you know. We can try some things, like therapy, or medication. I can help you. You don't have to feel this way all the time."

You shake your head. "I'm in therapy and on meds already. None of it really....works on me. I have fewer bad days than I used to but they still leave me like...like this. And they just drag on....it turns to weeks and months, and I can't....I can't do anything." You let out a shaky breath and make yourself stop talking. Even after all this, the urge to hold back is engrained in you. "You deserve better."

"I think I decide what I deserve," Chan says. "I know it's hard to open up about things like this, but what's worse than you being depressed is you hiding it from me. How can we work on this if you're pretending it's not real?"

"I wanted to be good for you. I wanted to be...to be easy."

Chan leans forward and cups your face in his hands. He looks you right in the eyes, and you see that they're glossy with their own unshed tears. "I don't need you to be easy. No one is. I just want you to be you. And I want you to let me be there for you. In everything. Including this. I want all of you. Do you think you can do that? Can you try?" He wipes away your tears with his thumb.

You swallow harshly. It goes against everything in you, everything you've taught yourself. Chan loves you. He wants to stay. Even though it may all crash and burn later, even though he might still turn on you or reject you or give up on you and declare this all a lost cause, right now he wants to stay. He believes in you. And you want to hold on to that belief as long as it lasts.

"Okay. I'll try."

A relieved smile stretches across his face.

"That's my girl," he says, and presses a kiss to your forehead. It makes something like pride settle in your chest, as if the part of you that cracked earlier might not stay jagged forever.

"Let's get off the floor, hmm? I feel like you might've spent enough time down here today."

You definitely hadn't mentioned that. Maybe he really does understand more than you'd thought possible. You don't know exactly how to feel about that, but you allow a bit of gratefulness to come through as he stands up on his own and reaches a hand down to pull you up. You wipe your eyes one last time, let out a breath, and take his hand.

[ninzied]

the gift of the magi/childhood friends to lovers au

they'd always gifted each other small things.

wedgies in pre-k for example, when alex thought the boy with blue eyes didn't like him. this made alex not like him back.

until alex ran out of lunch money one week, and henry refused to eat his own meal unless alex agreed to eat half with him.

after that, alex was determined to outdo him.

alex drew him a picture about all the times he beat henry at tag.

henry wrote a poem about how he much he'd loved christmas with the claremonts and the diazes. he read it to alex in front of their entire class.

it rhymed perfectly and everything.

alex made him a sand castle that was fit for a prince. henry made him a miniature replica of the treehouse in alex's backyard.

alex made him flower crowns. he liked how they made henry turn pink, matching the petals in his soft golden hair.

henry made alex feel so so warm, always.

as alex got older he realized how much he wanted to give henry things that he couldn't afford. a nice leather-bound journal. fancy pens for henry to write with. first editions of all his favorite books.

things, alex understood, that henry mostly already had. things henry didn't need alex for.

away for summer camp one year, alex had an idea.

he'd recently lost the key to his childhood home, the one from before his parents had split. so he took the chain he didn't need anymore and had it melted down: reshaped, into a small ring engraved with a cursive 'a' to match henry's 'h' on his.

that way, the next time they were apart, they could still have something of each other. something that belonged to them.

alex was so fucking nervous when he went over to henry's with his gift. what if henry didn't want to exchange rings with him?

what if henry didn't feel the same way he did?

when alex took a deep breath and handed it over, henry got a look on his face that made alex's heart sink.

and then henry took alex's hand. he pressed a small gold key into his palm.

henry, alex realized, was no longer wearing his ring.

"it's no replacement for the one you lost," said henry. "but i wanted you to know that you've a home in me too. only," henry looked sad again, "now you've no chain to wear it on."

"it's okay." alex squeezed henry's hand. "i already have everything i want."

watery-eyed, smiling, henry put on his new ring engraved with an 'a' and said, "so do i."

"i know it's no replacement either," said alex.

"no," said henry. "it's infinitely better."

it was in fact the second-best gift henry ever received, he told alex later.

because the best came immediately after, when alex took henry's face into his hands and kissed him for the very first time.

[lanterns-and-daydreams]

SOME TIG CHB HEADCANONS!!

-Xander is a Hephaestus kid.

-Grayson and Avery are Athena kids.

-Jameson and Rohan are Hermes kids.

-They hate that they're related and keep hiding each other's things and then fighting about it.

-Libby is Hecate's daughter.

-she sometimes uses potions in her baked goods.

-Thea is Aphrodite and Rebecca is from the Demeter cabin.

-Gigi and Savannah are Apollo's kids.

-Nash is Ares. Not all Ares kids are bad give em a break.

-Max is Apollo's kid.

-Jameson LOVES the climbing wall.

-Grayson loves the lake.

-He's friends with Percy and sometimes they both just sit down near the lake in silence and in comfort of each other's presence.

-Annabeth and Avery hang out and give each other riddles to solve.

-Xander is best friends with Leo and you'd think they're attached at the hip with how much mischief they get up to together and how they're always sitting around building things.

-TIRAMISU RIDING FESTUS'S HEAD WEARING A TINY PUPPY PAWTHORNE SIZED PARTY HAT!!!

-Xander knows about Bunker 9.

-Him and Leo call it their 'Super Secret Hawthorne-Valdez Hangout Forge"

-Drew and Thea do each other's makeup and help each other dress up.

-Wherever you find the Stolls, you will find Max.

-They're always giggling with each other, and when you look over at them, they will pretend they were doing nothing.

-Avery and Max love having sleepovers in each other's cabins.

-Max is amazing at Archery and playing the piano.

-Gigi, however, sucks at Archery, while Savannah is great at it.

-Clarisse looks up to Nash and actually acknowledges him as her older brother.

-They often train together.

-Everytime Libby learns a new spell, she always runs over to either Avery it Nash to show them.

-She has the greatest witch cackle in all of camp.

-Grayson’s weapon is a longsword.

-Max uses a bow.

-Savannah uses a gun, despite how limited it is.

-Jameson uses a javelin.

-Nash just fights with his bare hands (you go bro. Heizou would love you).

-He has a thing where he whispers a very low "yeehaw" under his breath before he beats the shit out of you.

-Avery uses a sword

-Thea has a dagger. It's decorated with roses and coated in poison.

-Rebecca uses her ability.

-Gigi has an axe.

-Rohan has an electric spear.

-Xander uses his machinery and things he's built.

-Xander and Leo often joke about their height difference.

-Rohan has beef with the Aphrodite kids.

-He was also constantly throwing jabs at Apollo as Lester.

-Lester wrote a poem about him where he's a slimy slug.

-Nobody knows why Rohan is like that but everyone knows he's a hater who only likes Savannah.

-The one time Jameson had to go to the Oracle for a prophecy in the attic (before Rachel became one), he was comically under prepared and when the Oracle started speaking, he screamed like a little girl and threw a shoe at it.

-He hates the attic now, even though the Oracle isn't there anymore he never even walks by the staircase.

-Grayson plays games (pinocle, cards, etc.) with Mr. D.

-He's very salty about being forced to wear a bright orange t-shirt.

-He accepted his fate and decided to wear a full sleeved baggy one with the sleeves rolled up.

-Jameson makes fun of him.

-Everytime Grayson sees Nico he asks him if he's eaten, he doesn't even know when he basically adopted this emo kid, he just remembers Nico being around when Gigi hung out with Will.

-Will is a sucker for Libby's cookies.

-He gives her stickers in exchange for cookies. Stickers are basically their currency now.

-Jameson thinks Hazel is very cool. Like damn, you can control rocks and gems? That's awesome!

-Nash is very protective of Frank. Like, no, the rest of the cabin can't be mean to him for being soft. no.

-Rebecca and Piper get along so well.

-The brothers get VERY competitive during Capture the Flag, and it's a show to watch when they're on opposite teams.

-Lyra is a Hunter of Artemis. (I'm not so sure about her I haven't read tgg yet. IM SORRY 👹 👹)

-Slate is Nemesis's kid. He's emo.

[afreakingdork]

Soft Spot - Chapter 22

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

Looks like we're in for quite the surprise with this week's chapter art by @garbagemilkshake

Rated: Explicit

Warnings/Tags: Romance, Established Relationship, Married Couple, Married Life, Aged-Up Mutant Ninja Turtles, Villain Donatello (TMNT), Love, POV Second Person, Babies, Pregnancy, AFAB reader, Vaginal Sex, Rough Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Fertility Issues, Pregnant Sex, Pregnancy Kink, Reader-Insert, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Cum Eating, Turtle Noises (TMNT), I have a Biology Degree and I’m Using it, Menstruation, There WILL NOT be any Miscarriages

Synopsis: First comes love. Then comes marriage. Then comes the next step about as smooth as the others arrived. The baby-oriented sequel to Weak Spot.

Also available on Ao3

First 💜 Previous

“I have to pee.” You scurried away from the couch.

“Y/N!” Donnie’s voice chased you.

“Not my fault!” You reminded him as you rounded the corner in your bedroom.

“He’s in the building!” Donnie tried.

“I can’t help it!” You hissed as you got the bathroom door shut.

His concerns were the same.

His anxiety leaked through your wedding band and you waited until relief washed over you before you reached to give him some of his own.

He didn’t settle in the slightest, as he hadn’t in the past few hours, and there was a knock at the door.

You heard clips of Raph’s voice as you washed your hands. “-personalized door thing!”

“Right.” Donnie remarked.

“That was… you, wasn’t it?” Raph asked, clearly wary.

“There’s business at hand…!” Donnie’s voice peaked and you could tell he was trying to summon you.

“Sure…” Raph drew out his own concerns as they were bypassed. “You said you needed to talk.”

“We require your introduction.”

“Ya mentioned that over text, but I don’t really get why…”

You dried your hands and were especially careful in opening the bathroom door as silently as possible.

“I mean, who can Raph introduce you to?”

You crept forward.

“I don’t really know people that require introductions. You probably know more people than me!”

“True, however…” Donnie led again.

Your ring begged you to appear.

You were slow as you approached the partition.

You took a breath.

“Well, Raph…” You spoke just before you walked out. “You see we have some news…”

“What’s tha-?” Raph was genial right up until he froze in place.

You couldn’t really squirm at six months pregnant.

Your belly was a little too large for that. These days you were getting closer to the quintessential waddle and you did what you could to support the growing weight bulging from your front. You tucked your hands under your baby for support and to make yourself the picture of pregnant so Raph had no room to be mistaken.

Raph blinked once and slowly rotated his head to Donnie.

Your husband gave a single skittish nod.

“Y/N…” Raph checked with Donnie again and got another go ahead before he approached.

You looked up at him as cheerily as you could. “How’ve you been?”

“Good… Pretty good…” He knelt down in front of you and was the picture of gentleness. “And you?”

“You know…” You smiled warmly at him. “I’ve really been getting that glow lately. It’s been a tense time, but I’m finally starting to enjoy it.”

Raph’s smile shook and he licked his lips to curtail it. “Izzat’so?”

“If you want…” You removed your hands and put them in another stasis position tucked into your lower back for the pressure. “... you can feel them.” 

His eyes danced as he glanced up at you and he held up a readied hand. “You’re sure?”

“Yep.”

Raph puffed with one watery chuckle that he swallowed before he put great care in laying his enormous hand on your belly.

“Not sure you’ll feel a kick.”

“Did you guys have any trouble with a surrogate?” Raph did the faintest chaste stroke before he released and sent joy in your direction.

“Surrogate…?”

“For the sperm.” Raph moved to stand. “Congratulations don’t even start to cover it. Don…” He turned to address your mate. “This is amazing. I can’t believe it. I’m so happy for-!”

“Raphael…” Donnie tested as he took a cautious step forward.

Raph was clearly hesitant. “Sorry. I meant Donatello. I didn’t mean to-”

“That’s fine.” Donnie told him.

“It… is…?” Raph was hit with concurrent waves of happiness. 

Your spouse nodded.

“O-Oh…” Raph almost blushed as he turned his elation to you. “He’s already getting soft at the prospect of being a dad, huh?”

“Raph…” You took your turn.

“Hm?” The bigger turtle was caught in glee.

“There’s no surrogate.” Donnie finished for you.

“Huh?” Raph’s mood didn’t diminish. “Was that a bad assumption? Did you get a fertilized egg implanted or something?”

“Raph.” Donnie put a hand on the other turtle’s shoulder.

Raph blinked once at Donnie’s hand, once at the arm it was connected to, and finally once at your husband’s face. “What other way is there?”

“They’re mine.”

Raph was silent and stared openly.

“My child.” Donnie pressed. “Y/N’s egg. Without aided fertility.”

“Mutants are sterile.” Raph spoke like a tape recorder.

“Not necessarily.”

“That doesn’t… That doesn’t make any sense…”

“We calculated a 1.73% chance of successful conception of which…” Donnie looked pointedly at you.

You finished pressing your spine before taking up your belly again in demonstration.

Raph was slow in gaping at you.

He raised a finger to point and his neck creaked as he moved it, rusty, back to Donnie.

Donnie nodded several times.

Raph’s hand shot up to cover his mouth.

He leaked excitement and traded it for a form of concern.

“Getting pregnant was one of the toughest parts of the process…” You offered to the awkward air.

“I’m glad!” Raph squeaked out. “Don’t get me wrong! This is just-!”

Donnie released him to go stand by you.

“You two-!” Raph’s hand waved a few times before gluing back to his chin.

“The introduction.” Donnie spoke cautiously. “We need to know about how ninpo affects children. I want to commune with the ancestors.” 

“The ancestors?! Our ancestors?!” 

Donnie clearly didn’t agree with the specification, but he also didn’t correct him. 

“A baby and then-!?” Raph did a nervous dance in place. 

He then took a long breath to calm himself before he addressed you both. 

“Okay… This is… a lot…” 

“Wanna sit?” You offered. 

“Can I?” Raph looked like he might keel over. 

You lead around the couch in demonstration. “Of course you can.” 

He mirrored you on the opposite side before he plopped down on the couch. “It’s not you guys, ya know?” 

“Sure.” 

Donnie inched up to the sofa’s back. 

“Like, let’s start with the mutant thing. That’s crazy! Does that mean I have same chance of having a kid or is it just you?” Raph looked back at Donnie. 

“That was a calculation between Y/N and I. Yours would differ.” 

“How much…?” 

Donnie looked on with a neutral expression. 

“Yeah, I know there’s science, but ballpark it! Please?” Raph begged with a toss of his head. 

“It depends, but it’s likely yours is not nil either.” 

Raph’s hands shot up to his face to stifle a scream. 

“Do you need to make a call?” Donnie droned on. 

“What?!” Raph squawked with embarrassment. “No!” 

“Your concern. You may need to contact a partner.” 

Raph’s hands blurred as he waved them. “No! No, no! That’s not the problem! Don’t-! AH!” 

You waited until you could see his arms again before reaching out to put a hand on his limb. 

He sent you a weak look that begged you to understand. 

You did a similar chaste rub as he had. “Is it knowing you can?” 

His lips curled a few times before he nodded. 

“Sorry for springing this on you.” 

“No, no, that’s not-” Raph sighed. “I just don’t know what to do. Like Dad always joked about us giving him grandkids, but it’s not like we could. We were told from all sides it wasn’t a thing. Mutants getting rights was because we’re a dying breed. Knowing that’s not true is… I don’t even know…”

You nodded and kept petting him. 

Donnie caught the couch and leaned over some. 

“Then you guys! You’re having a baby! Seriously! I’m so happy for you guys.” Raph continued. 

“Thanks.” 

Donnie gave a courtesy bob of his head. 

“And you telling me and nickname privileges? It’s big deals all around. I’m shocked and I’m happy and my world’s kinda flipped upside down!” 

You looked at your mate. 

He returned a warm gaze. 

“Oh, and the ancestors! What’s up with that?!” Raph bobbed to better attention. “You want to tell them next or something?” 

“We’re… concerned.” Donnie began before he knelt down so he could fold his arms along the couch’s back. 

“Uh…?” Raph’s eye darted between you and Donnie. “Wait! I was paying attention. You said something about ninpo!” 

“Right. Have any…” Donnie had to swallow bile. “... Hamato clan members been bonded?” 

“Bonded.” Raph repeated as if he might not have heard right. 

“In the yokai sense.” 

“I’m pretty sure the Hamato were all human…” 

Donnie barely contained his bitterness. “Their use of mystic arts? How Saki gained the Kuroi Yoroi? It’s unmistakable.” 

Raph shrugged. 

Donnie stewed with closed eyes for a moment. “If we return to unlocking ninpo.” 

Raph’s head lolled. “Again, Donnie? How many times are we going to go over the same thing?” 

“It doesn’t make sense!” 

“I don’t know what else to tell ya! It’s a family thing! A bond-” 

You perked up a little. 

“Oh.” Raph spoke once. 

One of Donnie’s brows rose. 

“Oh.” Raph spoke again. 

You encouraged him with a little bob of your chin. 

“Does your ring bond reach the baby!?” The gravity caught Raph’s throat. 

“I can sense them.” Donnie told him. 

“I can’t.” You added. 

Raph looked between you two. “Okay, okay. Let me…” 

He took a deep breath and squared his elbows. With them at his sides, he brought curled hands inward to access his core. It was similar to what you expected meditation to look like and remembered Mikey’s teachings. This was Raph’s case and you watched him dig deep before his eyes snapped open with a flick of red. He then turned and looked squarely at your stomach. You had to fight off the urge to shield your baby even though you had seen Raph do this before.  

Donnie clearly felt similar off put because he stood and menace began to ooze off him. 

Raph blinked out of his power and looked at Donnie with bare interest. 

“What did you do?” Donnie spat. 

“I’m the best at visualizing ninpo. I was seeing if there was any.” 

“Preemptive!” Donnie seethed. “There’ve been no signs.” 

“I’m making sure!” 

“There was no need!” 

“It’s not like a microwave! Y/N is fine!” 

“You examined them with an unstable and illogical power-!” 

“Donnie!” Raph interrupted and set his jaw in a hard line. 

Donnie bounced on irritation before he took to a short pace. 

You watched your mate and shot Raph wide eyes. 

“We’ve talked a lot about boundary stuff.” Raph announced proudly. 

“Leashed.” Donnie hissed. 

“And how I know he doesn’t mean it when he lashes out when he’s upset.” 

Donnie’s aura flared rage. 

Raph sent him a dry look. 

Donnie stormed around with heavier steps. 

“You two really do have a good friendship.” You remarked. 

“I prefer Kaleb.” Donnie clicked his tongue. 

“Captain K is pretty great.” Raph said fondly. “I’ll take a loss to him.” 

There was a beat of silence before you tapped Raph’s leg. 

He got the hint to be quiet and lowered his head to listen. 

“What does everyone else look like? The one’s without ninpo?” 

“Little flames of life force right in the middle of the chest.” Raph gestured with a hand to his plastron. “They aren’t colored. It’s like looking for a bright pop in a world of black and white. The ninpo shows up neon and is shaped to the user.” 

“Shaped?” 

“Like… Donnie’s is blocky like an old pixel video game. Mikey’s is loose like liquid. but it sort of burns so I guess like magma…? Or lava…? Whichever one does that and Leo’s is classic blue flame.” 

“And yours?” 

“Uh… Huh!” Raph paused to think. “I don’t see mine. I guess I could look. I think they once told me it was solid, kinda like a red saturn ring.” 

“That sounds right…” 

“Ya think?” He grinned. 

Donnie crept over with a lowered head. 

Raph didn’t tease him and opened up his posture. 

Donnie didn’t apologize, but his body language indicated he was. “Your findings?” 

“All clear, but the more I keep thinking about it, it’s a problem. When can babies… I don’t know… think? Feel…?” 

“Discussing consciousness. Might as well discuss asinine morality.” Donnie grouched. 

Raph tipped his head to agree. 

“So can we?” You asked. 

“What?” Raph seemed ready for whatever. 

“Talk to the Hamato ancestors.” 

Raph’s face shifted to a grimace. “The scrolls were destroyed.” 

Donnie rolled his entire head with his eyes. 

You glanced at Donnie. 

He caught the twitch of movement and righted his person. “You have other techniques.” 

“I mean… We do. There’s training. We all got our strengths.” Raph tipped side to side as he spoke. 

“You can meld minds.” 

Raph gave a slow nod. “Sure.” 

“The ninpo is a shared power.” Donnie continued on. “Meld with the ancestors.” 

“It doesn’t work like that. Not exactly.” 

“Don’t pull semantics on something so obviously ambiguous.” Donnie swept out a hand. 

“Okay…” Raph chuffed. “Let me ask something then.” 

“Go ahead.” Donnie led with that hand. 

“You asked me here, but you wanted an introduction. S’that mean you really wanted to ask me about this?” 

Donnie chuffed as he turned away. 

You put it together. “It’s not something you can do alone.” 

“Bingo.” Raph pointed at you. “If it’s just me I already did what I can do. The ninpo belongs to everyone, but you need to access it together. We’ll need combined forces and Dad to get at what you’re wanting.” 

“Exhausting onus rhetoric.” Donnie hissed. 

Raph shrugged. 

“We need to.” You said. 

No one else moved. 

“We need to.” You checked with Donnie. 

He looked away. 

“We need to.” You tried Raph. 

He openly agreed. 

You tried Donnie again, but he didn’t budge. 

“I think…” Raph started and quieted. 

Donnie didn’t look, but his head turned a few millimeters. 

“We need you too.” Raph spoke with the quality of not trying to spook a wild animal. 

Donnie snapped to his attention. 

“We’ve tried to ask questions before, but… something’s off. It’s hard to explain, but it always depletes someone. I think that’s why the scrolls existed. It’s a huge amount of power to tap into. Dad used to take the brunt and he’d sleep for days after. Then Mikey figured something out and he did it. One of those times is when he got that grey streak. I swear it keeps growing each time he over uses his power. I mean dad is all grey! We’ve only ever done it a handful of times, for emergencies, but…” Raph sighed. 

“You believe I’ll bring balance to your pathetic crest.” Donnie didn’t do his usual lording. 

“You’rer part of this.” Raph said simply. 

Donnie breathed and in doing so puffed his plastron out. 

You could feel his pride was wounded and made yourself a net through his bond if he needed to fall back on it. 

He stood tall. “I dislike the obvious and otherwise.” 

“What else besides us?” Raph’s brow ridge cocked through his mask. 

“I’ve had my lifetime fill of ferrying.” Donnie glared daggers. “I despise calling upon the blue one.” 

Raph smirked. “Yeah, Leo’s sick of portalling us too.” 

Your lips rounded in interest at Raph’s amusement. 

Raph gave you a quick flick of his eyes that you read as agreement. 

He also thought Donnie and Leo were far too alike. 

You tried not to giggle. 

“So sick in fact…” Raph pushed to get up from the couch without shoving it away. “He stopped doing it for any of us after Y/N’s recovery. He looked into new ways to train and use his power.” 

Raph was clearly prepared to show you something and you spun in your seat to watch. Donnie approached your side in a protective stalk and Raph reached up to his shirt. Pinned like an accessory to his jacket was a series of metal studs. You thought they were part of the garment until a snap unhooked it. Raph held the tiny piece up in a comical pinch of his huge fingers and you swore you saw a small zip of blue electricity flick around it at the ready. 

“We going?” Raph checked. “To the lair?” 

You looked at Donnie. 

Donnie’s eyes were trained on the thing Raph was holding. 

“Let me just pee first.” You bumped the couch as you stood. 

You felt Raph smile as you passed him. “How far along are you?” 

“Six months!” 

“What?!” You left Raph gaping. 

You heard your husband tell him something and Raph continued on with astonished questions. 

You emptied your bladder fast, cleaned up, and all but jogged back over. “Ready!” 

“You good?” Raph asked Donnie. 

“Let’s get this over with.” Donnie relented. 

Raph dropped the pin and a blue portal exploded up from it the moment it hit the floor. 

It looked very much like Leo’s. Only said turtle man was not impatiently waiting on the other side. That was the lair and you felt a foreboding in going. You had never really had much of a positive experience with the place, but this would be one of the first times you would be going there on some semblance of your own terms. There was the pressing need to go to keep your baby safe, but you bet if you changed your mind, you and Donnie could navigate some alternative solution.

Though that might involve the Hidden City. 

More fear cropped up.  

Your hesitancy pulled your partner. 

He dipped his beak into the side of your head. “Problem? I have doubts regarding this new portal method.” 

“Not really…” You told him and felt some truth there. “Not the portal. We’ve done a ton of those and I doubt this is different. It’s just… going there. I was preparing mentally.”

“Same.” Raph flanked you with an exhausted expression pulling his cheeks. 

“Any warnings?” You asked. 

“None that you don’t already know.” Raph shook himself out. “Dad might be intense. Like I said, he’s been talking about grandchildren since we were kids.” 

“They wouldn’t be his.” Donnie spoke testily. 

“You know how he sees it.” Raph shot him a look before he dipped down through the portal. 

Donnie frowned deeply and followed after. He sent you one last look before he disappeared through the ring. His head then immediately re-appeared to give you the safe go ahead. He led you through and tucked you in close to his side as soon as you made it. Affirmations were cuddled close as your husband reviewed yours and the baby’s well beings. Raph reached back through the disc and grabbed the stud. There must have been some kind of time limit because he yanked fast through the other side as if burned and waved his hand off the supposed heat before the portal disappeared. 

You tilted your head. 

“Portal chopping is real.” He spoke to you in a haunt and reclipped the stud to his jacket. “Let’s find everyone. Roll call! Who’s home!?!” 

Donnie went to straightened attention, but kept his arms protectively around you. 

You observed the room you were in. It was the one you had long dubbed the portal room. It still had some white board slapped onto one wall, but it was curiously clean. The space itself was usually sparse and Raph wandered to one side as he listened. 

You heard Mikey stutter something unintelligible out from down below. 

“This way.” Raph scooped his arm for you to follow. 

You moved after him with Donnie glued to your hip. 

You descended the stairwells to where the train cars were and you watched Mikey stumble sideways with several enormous white cardboard boxes stacked up in his arms. 

“What.” Raph stared out. “Mikey!” 

“Help me so I don’t drop ‘em!” Said man quaked. 

Raph shot forward and hoisted a few of the boxes up like they weren’t unwieldy. “What are you doing with Leo’s comics?!” 

“Nothing!” Mikey shouted immediately and with a staunch expression. 

“Nothing? Yeah, right!” Raph snorted hot air straight into Mikey’s face. 

“I wasn’t doing anything, right-?!” The younger turned to garner support from you and stopped. “Donnie… Y/N…” 

“What did you call me?” Donnie seethed. 

“You’re…” Mikey’s eyes were glued on your stomach. 

“Did you put him up to that?!” Donnie demanded from Raph. “Sharing hypocorism as if your familiarity is shared amongst you as well!?” 

“Obviously not! I don’t even know what hyno-crism is! I didn’t do anything! How could I!? It’s Mikey!” Raph squared his stance. 

“You’re…” Mikey didn’t look away as he set the long box down. 

“Two slipped tongues in one day!? Unlikely coincidence!” Donnie hissed. 

“You think I can control him!? Mikey!?” Raph waved his boxes around to point. 

Mikey hobbled forward a few steps. 

Donnie sensed the movement and darted away toward you on instinct.

Mikey slipped out of existence and Donnie outright snarled. 

He rounded you as best he could, but there wasn’t enough of him to conceal you. 

Mikey appeared in a blind spot and whisked you, squeaking, straight off your feet. “You’re pregnant!!!” 

Before your stomach could settle, Donnie plucked you from Mikey and sent the smaller turtle flying in one fluid jump and kick. 

Raph dropped his boxes and caught his brother like a pop fly and you were set on the ground with Donnie’s arms around you like a cape. 

Your husband spat like a cat. “Don’t. Touch. Don’t. Think. Stay. Away.” 

Mikey flailed happily in Raph’s arms. “Pregnant! Raph! Did you see!? A little baby! They’re going to have a baby!” 

“We definitely dropped you on your head too much when you were little.” Raph turned Mikey over to look at him. 

Mikey was giggling and stopped only to pop out a, “What?” 

“Nothing.” Raph set him down. “You’ll never have any self awareness.” 

“What’s that?” Mikey teased with a wink. 

Raph rolled his eyes. “They’re here for a reason.” 

“To tell us about the baby!” Mikey mooned. “Tell me everything except how! When are they due!? How far along are you!? Are you happy?! You look amazing!” 

You chuckled and patted your mate’s arm. “That’s not exactly why.” 

“A reason!” Raph made a fist and softly conked the top of Mikey’s head. 

“This is a reason! We’re planning a baby shower, right?! You’re going to ask us to be godparents?! Pick me over Raph, I’m the obvious and not spiky choice!” Mikey flew through moods. 

“H-hey!” Raph looked insulted. “I’m not that… I could do it… I’m gentle. I’m the gentle giant! That’s Raph in the dictionary definition!” 

“He only knocks over displays with his tail because he wants to!” Mikey cackled. 

“Neither of you-” Donnie panted out rage.

“Okay.” You squeezed his face beside yours. “Mikey.” 

Said man perked up. 

“I’m due in maybe 2 months. Mutant baby mixes don’t exactly have known gestation times. I’m 25 weeks and Coral and Hypno are currently in the top running for those positions.” 

“Hypno!?” Mikey squawked. 

“Hypno-Potamus!?” Raph bellowed. “He knows?!” 

“Uh…” Your hands loosened on Donnie. 

“You told Hypno before me!?” Raph looked right at Donnie. 

“You did… tell him…” You squeaked out as you turned to look at your husband. 

Some of his anger had abated and he returned Raph’s criticism with a wary gaze. “I would have preferred to not tell any of you.” 

Raph twitched. 

The silence suffocated the space until Mikey broke it to say, “Not cool.” 

“What do you expect…?” Donnie turned away.

“You to be nice to him when he’s been nothing but good to you!” Mikey huffed. 

“You expect-!” Donnie finally lifted to his true height, but stayed pressed to you. “Do you see to whom you speak!?” 

Mikey growled to himself before he slapped his hands to his eyes. “I don’t want to do this!” 

Everyone else stood firm. 

“There’s a baby!” Mikey threw his limbs out in demonstration. “This is a time for celebration. No stupid fighting.” 

Donnie’s throat choked on irritation. 

Raph rubbed the back of his neck. 

“Baby!” Mikey snapped at his brother before being far more careful in a second approach. 

Donnie stiffened. 

“I’m taking their hands.” Mikey told him before holding out his in offer. 

You placed your fingers into his palms. 

He squeezed gently. “I’m so, so happy for you.” 

“Thank you.” You told him for several things at this point. 

“How about the baby shower? Is there space there?” Mikey tried. 

“Coral has been looking for a caterer…” You offered. 

“I’m your turtle!” Mikey lit up. “Give me her number! I meant to get it before!” 

“I’ll ask her first, no offense.” 

“Yeah, whatever. Boundaries!” He chuckled. “Let’s go to the kitchen! I don’t have samples, but I can show you some cake molds I have! How on the nose would turtle cupcakes be…!?” 

Mikey rounded you and pulled gently with flicking eyes to Donnie for permission. 

You could tell Donnie was holding back for Raph this time, but signaled Mikey to go ahead. 

Your partner didn’t leave you and walked on your other side to avoid a certain larger turtle who trailed in the background. 

“Do you have colors picked out yet?” Mikey told you on the stairs. 

“We’re thinking purple.” 

“What shade?” Mikey held no judgement. 

“That, we’re not sure. There’s so many.” 

“Such is art, baby!” Mikey chirped and paused. “Baby! So cute! You know what? I’ve decided I dodged a bullet on godparent duties. Uncle duties are way better. That’s my nibling when they’re cute, but not when they’re gross. I will not change a diaper; don’t ask me to babysit!” 

“Fair enough.” You laughed. 

The air that followed you was stagnant. 

You knew you needed to push the ninpo question, but it felt impossible with Raph and Donnie no longer on speaking terms. Their intensity followed you into the kitchen where both men stood as far apart as possible. Mikey was predictably immune to the bad aura and went on his merry path in showing you all manner of cookware. He had his phone out to illustrate projects he had done in the past from what looked like a cooking website. It had a posh design and you could only gawk at as he sped along. 

“Oh good, you’re in here.” Splinter’s voice drifted in from the doorway. “Orange, I am ready to try that Pouchong tea you have been nagging me about.” 

Donnie stumbled forward to catch up to you. 

You barely looked at him when Splinter emerged and was perfectly positioned so he had a clear view of you. 

His eyes widened out from beneath his brows and he blinked a few times. 

He then shot his head to the side and waved a dismissive hand in front of his face. “Never ask such a question.” 

He was the first. 

He was the first person to give you even an ounce of decency. 

He was the first to not stare. 

He was the first to not assume. 

It tugged your heart to have that amongst everything else that was happening and you blurted out, “I’m pregnant!” 

Splinter’s shoulders pinched. 

He swallowed thickly. 

He was slow, creaky, as he turned to look at you with eyes shined up to a sparkle. 

“We’re here to ask you something!” You shouted again as you were further compelled. 

“Me…?” Splinter’s voice was small and his hand found the side of a cabinet for stability. 

“Yeah…” You deflated and felt Donnie press into your side. “You.” 

“I-!” Splinter caught his excitement by the throat. “Pardon me! Congratulations are in order!” 

He hopped up onto the counter to be at your eye level. 

“I am so happy for you! This is a momentous occasion! I-I have tea! Birthing tea, yes! You must have come for that! Orange, you told them of the family tea, yes?!” 

“The wha…?” Mikey slurred. 

“Are those cake pans?!” Splinter seethed at his dumbfounded son. “No sweets! It’s too cold! The baby must be warm! You are keeping him warm, aren’t you?” 

“Cold…?” It was your turn to wonder as he looked over you. 

“Yes, cold! You should have a sweater! I can get you one! I have a very flurry one that my sons gave me!” 

“A robe, dad.” Mikey tried to interject. 

“It is too big! Too soft! Perfect for you! Let me-!” 

You reached out and touched his arm before he could leave. 

“Y/N…?” He looked up to you. 

“Did… you say… ‘him?’” 

Splinter’s ears flicked. “Yes. You’re having a boy.” 

You felt Donnie startle as much as you. 

“You can tell by roundness…” Splinter went on. “Or… that is what I was told once. You are very round. Must be a boy.” 

You laughed out something wet. 

Splinter bobbed to take your hand. “Should I not have…?” 

“No… No…” You wiped your eyes. “I thought maybe you knew for sure. We don’t know yet. Um, there’s a shell or… some shell. That’s probably why I’m so round…” 

“It has a shell…?” Splinter unmistakably looked to Donnie with hope. 

“Y/N refers to an egg shell. Part of which has developed.” Donnie clarified. 

Every head minus your husband’s shot to you. 

Your eyelids fluttered. “It’s weird. Just… don’t…” 

A unanimous agreement was made to let it go. 

 “In addition… to a carapace…” Donnie suddenly continued. 

You leaned into him. 

“That is very good. Congratulations… to you… both.” Splinter tried. 

Donnie gave a curt nod. 

“This tea… Um… All these traditions or… whatever you’re talking about. I want to hear them, but there’s actually something else we need.” 

“Yes?” Splinter looked ready. 

“About… Hamato ninpo…” 

Raph made a small noise as if he remembered that was the point. 

“Our family’s power?” Splinter pressed. 

“So… Um… Donnie and I are…” You squirmed a little before showing Splinter your ring. “We’re bonded and we don’t know…” 

Splinter took your hand. “Mystic rings.” 

“Yeah…” 

“They bind essence…” Splinter seemed to be recalling something before he stopped. “Oh…” 

“What?!” Donnie curled around you. 

“That is…” Splinter looked troubled. 

“Hey!” Donnie snarled. 

Splinter looked straight at him and your husband was immediately disarmed by the severity. “We need to commune with the ancestors.” 

Mikey popped to attention. “We’re gonna talk to gram-gram!?” 

“Just like that?!” Raph complained and shot forward. “We don’t have the scrolls! The last time we did it-!” 

“It’s fine!” Mikey waved and followed as Splinter jumped off the counter and started to head somewhere with purpose. “I got it!” 

You fell in line with Donnie in tow. 

“No, one of you always ends up bedridden!” Raph chased after. 

“It is one question.” Splinter was determined. 

You were led back to the portal room. 

Splinter grabbed a marker from the board and used it to draw some kind of circular pattern on the floor. 

Once one quadrant was completed, Mikey plopped down into it with crossed legs. 

Raph expertly danced around the lines as he chased his father. “Dad, listen! How does this work?” 

“We have five.” Splinter said simply. 

“Donnie’s not totally connected! You know that!” 

“It will work.” 

“Dad!” 

“It will work!” Splinter stopped long enough to look Raph in the eye. 

Raph shook with a protest that he didn’t voice. 

Mikey pulled out his phone and started tapping on it. 

Donnie eyed the growing patterns on the ground with equally growing concern. 

“You should step away…” Donnie spoke to you. 

Splinter responded. “No, Y/N stays.” 

“You do not-” Donnie hissed. 

“Y/N is your tether.” Splinter finished off a pattern that held four outer circles connected to one in the middle and switched over to scrawling out some sort of language in between the lines. 

He wrote faster and faster. 

“Your reason for unlocking your power.” 

He dotted off mark after mark. 

“Your family.” 

He finished and stood amongst an intricate design. 

Donnie both held you for strength and as a shield. 

You could only return the support through your bond. 

“Your place…” Splinter offered Donnie one of the outer circles. 

Donnie refused. 

“It’s here.” Splinter told him again before walking to the center. “Raphael.” 

Raph took his corner with obvious reluctance. 

“We do this for the baby.” Splinter told him. 

Raph still didn’t agree, but sat in his spot for obvious greater good. 

Splinter took on a meditative pose. 

Nothing had changed, but it felt like there was a growing energy to the room. 

“Are these my comics!?” Leo’s voice boomed. 

Splinter was unfazed. 

Raph shot Mikey a look. 

Mikey scrambled to match Splinter’s pose. 

There was obvious stomping up the stairs. “My comics! My rare, protected, bagged and boarded, Jupiter Jim legacy collection, meticulously kept and, for some reason, sitting out in the middle of a walkway!!” 

Leo appeared in a storm cloud. 

“One of them was on its side, have you no shame!?!” 

His arms were up in clawing horror and they fell at the sight of the room. 

“What… are you doing…?” 

“Take your spot, blue.” Splinter demanded. 

“Take my…?” Leo’s eye wandered the scrawled curves to you. “Y/N.” 

Donnie covered up your bump. 

“Donatello.” Leo’s words dripped characteristic venom. 

“Leonardo.” Donnie matched the candor. 

“I’m gonna assume comic theft is beneath you somehow?” Leo popped a hip out. 

You felt Donnie flick his eyes to Mikey. 

“Hey!” Mikey shouted before slamming his eyes shut to continue his meditative ruse. 

“Your ass is grass, amigo.” Leo pointed to his little brother before walking straight across the lines to his father. “Dad.” 

“We will ask the ancestors a question.” 

“Dad!” 

“One question.” Splinter finally looked at someone and it was Leo. 

“Dad… You know what that does. What could be so important, with him, that this is necessary? So his power’s busted, so what?!” Leo chuffed. 

“Leo…” Splinter pressed before gesturing to you. 

“What? Is there something I’m supposed to-?” Leo started by lazily looking toward you. 

Donnie tried to cover up more of you. 

Leo finally saw you. 

He moved forward a few steps. 

Without care for the lines. 

Donnie rumbled with a tea kettle’s warning and the first of stovetop clicks. 

“Move your arms.” Leo said simply as he was trained on your midsection. 

“Stop!” Donnie barked. 

“Drop ‘em.” Leo stalked forward. 

“Donnie…” You tried. 

“I said move.” Leo blinked blue light. 

“Leo!” You yelled.

“Let me see.” Leo was glowing when he stopped just a few feet shy of you. 

You heard a single gun cock. 

Mikey and Raph shot to readied positions. 

Leo crossed his eyes to look at the purple gun floating in front of his face. “Cute.” 

“Boys!” Splinter’s voice boomed. 

“You’ll just look!?” You demanded. 

“Sure.” Leo spoke a little too dismissively. 

Donnie squeezed you tighter. 

“Leo.” You mustered as much authority as you could. 

“Yes.” He barely relented. “I’ll just look.” 

He showed his arms for good measure and his fingers weren’t crossed. 

“Donnie, let go.” You told your partner. 

He inhaled to complain. 

“Just for a second. I don’t want you to leave me. Just long enough to show him. Leave the gun.” 

Donnie’s nostrils rattled on the exhale. 

Leo cocked a brow through his mask. 

A tense moment ticked by. 

Donnie’s arms lowered in a sweep like parting curtains. 

He pulled your top in the process and revealed your pregnant belly. 

Leo only looked at it with lowered lids and a single nod before he turned heel. 

Donnie wrapped you back up. 

Leo sat in one of the circles and shut down in his spot. 

You didn’t know what to make of that, but you felt dismay. 

Donnie nuzzled the side of your head in spite of everything. 

“Donatello…?” Splinter asked with the softest voice. 

“Just long enough.” You reassured him. 

He couldn’t bear letting you go and trailed with you to the one empty circle. 

Raph and Mikey shared glances as they got back into position.  

Leo didn’t move again. 

“Y/N will be safe?” Donnie asked as he neared his line. 

“Perfectly.” Splinter spoke. “Outside the ritual they will only see us connect. I’m told there is light.” 

Donnie held you one last time before he removed himself like it was unanesthetized surgery. With torn ligaments he made it into his circle and stood stoic. Nothing came for him or his body, so he eventually moved to sit. He chose to kneel, a prayer for the knowledge he hoped to gain, and with it Splinter gave a loud exhale. 

That energy built back up in the room and you saw Splinter’s ninpo for the first time. 

It was faint wisps of white that drifted off his fur.  

Mikey connected next with a joyful zip of orange. 

Raph was third with a solid support of red. 

Leo’s energy flicked with agitation as the fourth. 

They stood charged up and your husband just sat there. 

He watched the others with those hues dancing in his eyes, but not his own shade. 

He looked abysmally over the process. 

You could feel him giving up. 

Closing yet another door to this strange power. 

Shutting himself off from the rest of them. 

Something he had long done out of necessity. 

You took a few steps toward him. 

He gave you pure fear in return.

You minded the circle with your feet, but reached over it to touch your husband’s shoulder. 

You sent him nothing but love and understanding. 

It washed over him through his bond. 

It took a few tepid minutes of him drowning in it before he almost smiled. 

You felt it then. 

A new current. 

That beating power in his chest that you had once avoided. 

It pulsed large and you felt yourself forced back. 

You saw, but didn’t see your mate blink confusion after you. 

The moment you were out of the circle’s bound you actually saw him. 

White light poured out of his eyes like he had his villain mask on. His teeth were clenched in apparent pain, but you felt none of the usual signs from your bond. You could barely sense him at all. 

He was gone to you. 

Lost in some other power and his head threw back in fighting resistance. 

Something flickered in front of him. 

You squinted at it through the high beams. 

It looked like some sort of sigil. 

It had five slices in it, all with their own dots. 

One of which was blinking in and out. 

Light sparked in the written runes. 

Your gaze stumbled as it seemingly read them off. 

Each connected phrase triggered a quadrant and in the same order they connected, they lit up. 

Splinter. 

Mikey.

Raph.

Leo. 

The leading lights headed straight for Donnie and he yelled out as if his flesh was torn. 

“Donnie!” You shouted, but held yourself back. 

The final sigil slice filled in and your husband went slack. 

They all did.

You fretted back and forth at their limp forms. 

You reminded yourself you were safe outside the circles. 

You approached them anyway. 

You toed the line. 

You sought your ring. 

It pushed back. 

Your shoe clipped the line and, in a blink, you saw dozens of greenish hooded figures. 

You stumbled away. 

Your baby leapt. 

When it landed you felt your organs kicked and you choked out a wheeze. 

Your knees wobble and you bumped into the wall while holding your belly. 

There was no further feeling outside the norm and you sat there for a few agonizing seconds before the energy sucked clean out of the room. 

Everyone awoke in different stages. 

Splinter’s eyes opened. 

Mikey blew out a held breath. 

Raph shivered. 

Leo’s head bowed. 

Donnie was their contrast and wheezed while tearing at his chest. 

He scuffed the circle lines out and you took that as cue that you could break them as well. 

You joined your mate and held him as he clawed at his plastron. 

You didn’t impede him and only draped safely over his back.

“We’re… okay… All of us…!” You heard Raph pat himself down. “Guys!” 

Mikey was checking his own limbs. “Weird… I don’t feel like passing out…” 

Splinter nodded to himself. 

A drip of drool hung out as Donnie’s maw gaped. “This is fine!? This!? You call this a success!?” 

“It worked.” Splinter confirmed. 

“That was working!? That was coercion! A trick!! You fiend! You knew!!! You had to have known!!” 

“Donnie, what-!?” You tried. 

“It supersedes!” Donnie turned on you. “Ninpo is a higher connection! It trumps the others! ‘You are not alone.’ I was always-!” 

You held him and he curled into you. 

You knew he couldn’t say more and looked out to the others. 

Leo stood in one fluid movement and left. 

You stared after him. 

“Your bond will not be a problem…” Splinter translated softly. “Your baby may continue our lineage if taught our ways. It is always there, but a choice. You choose… your family. Choose to be part of something greater. To believe in more than just your power. It is a mature choice.” 

You checked on Donnie. 

“Ghosts. Ghosts! Incorporeal beings…” He choked out. “Apologized… to me… Before anyone else…!” 

You saw Splinter move with regret in the corner of your eye. “I did not know…” 

“None of us did…” Raph added. 

“Donatello…” Mikey tried.

“No.” Donnie didn’t turn from you. “No more. Not today. We got what was necessary. We leave.” 

You nodded into him. 

He squeezed his eyes dry. 

A portal appeared near you. 

You glanced at where Leo had gone, but didn’t see him. 

“Take your leave, but…” One of Splinter’s hands reached out. 

“We’ll talk.” You told him. 

Donnie shook his head and together you rose. 

“We’ll talk.” You also glanced at Raph. 

Raph rubbed his arm.  Leaning on one another, you slipped through the portal and back home.

(Check out behind the scenes for this fic and more on my Patreon. You can follow me there, here, or the tag #softspotfic for updates)

As we enter the liminal space between Christmas and New Years, I still devote my time to my darling betas @tmntxthings and @unrestrainedhotsoup

[zaineviu]

❛𝘘𝘶𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘗𝘦𝘯 ❜ - Hyunjin (SKZ)

synopsis. The memories you said we would build, you just toss them aside and left. We used to laugh a lot together The breath of love and affection, blowing like a cool breeze. The sweetly intoxicated eyes seeming to be filled with eternity.

pairings. hyunjin x fem!reader.

content. hyunjin angst, unrequited love, no happy ending, a lonely, heartbroken hyunjin. Inspired by the recently released song ‘낙서장 (Quill Pen)’ by Hyunjin!

wc. 927

a/n. I deserved to write something about my other boyfriend, so a little angst for our hard hearts. ૮⸝⸝ᴗ͈ ‸ ᴗ͈⸝⸝ა

Don't forget to comment, so I know you like what I write and encourage me to keep writing.

The thing about Hyunjin is that he is quiet. He was quiet as a child, when children his age were full of stories to tell, Hyunjin was a beautiful silence in the corner of a room.

So when a new girl moved in next door, Hyunjin had absolutely no stories for her. Hyunjin didn't expect her to stay, just a strange look and silence was all she expected.

But then the girl with the most curious eyes, blinked up at him and smiled wide, her dimples evident and front teeth missing, Hyunjin sensed it, a promise to stay.

It was miraculously easy between them, Hyunjin tucked in a corner of his garden with a paper and pencils in hand, sometimes he also paints and Y/N with snacks and lots of stories and wide eyes, she was happy to be by his side.

— 🤍 —

Y/N never minded Hyunjin's silence, she enjoyed it. Hyunjin thinks he enjoyed it because no one really listened to him; behind that wild hair and deep smiles was an insecure girl, trying to be heard, struggling to be liked and to make people fall in love, but no one lasted long enough for him to complete his stories.

Hyunjin did. He listened and held on to every slow word that Y/N drew out in the form of warm and funny words, kept those words tucked in a corner of his heart and nodded at every point where Y/N needed reassurance, reassurance that Hyunjin was interested, that her stories were being heard, that he is a good boy and a good friend to the giggling girl who looked up at him with a smile.

Hyunjin would tell her a story or two, sometimes, when Y/N was quiet, Hyunjin would tell her stories and Y/N would laugh at them, in the right places, and Hyunjin would run his fingers through her hair until Y/N got tired and yawned.

Y/N liked Hyunjin's magic fingers running through her hair, they made her sleep and dream of funny things.

But there were times when Hyunjin wished he had said something.

Like when they were in fourth grade and Y/N came running up to Hyunjin, in the garden, Hyunjin automatically moved to make room for him, but Y/N shook his head and told him he was going to hang out with some Seungmin. And Hyunjin couldn't say a word, because his throat did this where it closed up and he felt a little pain. 

All Hyunjin could do was look at Y/N with pleading eyes, but Y/N was Y/N, she bowed her head towards Hyunjin in confusion.

Hyunjin nodded then, to let her go, he couldn't ask her to stay. And Y/N blinked at him again, but then hurried off with Seungmin.

Hyunjin was still watching Y/N's figure disappearing behind the fence of his garden, Hyunjin heard him then and found his hands clutching the now broken pencil, his knuckles white.

It was the first pencil he had unintentionally broken.

— 🤍 —

They were inseparable, Hyunjin and Y/N. They would be in the garden with Y/N reciting his stories to Hyunjin with his eyes wide open and hands in the air, or in Y/N's room reading comics that Hyunjin loved and read with big eyes and a big smile.

The other times, they would need their father to rescue them from the trees they climbed because they couldn't climb down without fear of falling.

— 🤍 —

They were seventeen when a boy asked Y/N out on a date for the first time. She was nervous, Hyunjin could tell how she kept biting her nails and pulling her hair.

“What if I mess up, Hyunjin? What if he doesn't like me? What if I don't kiss him right?”

Hyunjin reached out and ran a hand through her hair, a bit of black polish scraped from his nails and Y/N stood silently with her head in Hyunjin's lap, her fingers no longer trembling with nerves.

After an hour, Y/N received a text message from the boy, Bangchan, and looked at Hyunjin before leaving, with the slight bow on his head, saying goodbye to Hyunjin silently. And Hyunjin nodded. Y/N looked at him, a few seconds that felt longer, nodded back and left.

Hyunjin broke a pencil that day.

— 🤍 —

They grew up together, they were together for so long that they could read each other. So when Y/N cried on Hyunjin's shoulder one night when they were nineteen, Hyunjin knew that Bangchan broke up with her. Hyunjin whispered a song to Y/N that night, and Y/N stopped shaking. He kissed her tear-stained cheek and Y/N smiled at him, a huge smile that released something in Hyunjin's gut.

But secretly, he could only watch her from afar as those eyes he so longed for looked away from him.

— 🤍 —

Hyunjin thought they could read each other, they didn't need words between them, but now it comes back to Hyunjin, in this church, standing behind Y/N, where Y/N whispers "I do" to Felix with a big smile and tears and Hyunjin wonders if he should have said something.

Y/N looks back at Hyunjin and Hyunjin nods, Y/N tilts her head and looks at him a beat longer and nods at Hyunjin.

It was a silent agreement.

— 🤍 —

Hyunjin breaks a pencil that day, under his sheets with blurry eyes and keeps whispering "Stay" to his pillows with muffled words.

[ravensuperr]

Gotham Baby Switch Mystery (DCXDP) - Part 3

Inside Amity Park Hospital, the waiting room was filled with tension. Jasmine, Sam, Cassandra, Damien, Tanya, Talia, and Bruce sat in silence, anxiously awaiting any news about Danielle’s condition. The flickering lights above were the only things that seemed to break the stillness, a stark contrast to the heavy weight that hung in the air. After what felt like an eternity, the door opened, and a figure emerged from the shadows of the hallway—Lady Tsunade, disguised as a hospital doctor. Her presence immediately drew the attention of everyone in the room.

"Danielle Fenton is going to live," Tsunade said, her voice calm yet firm, a stark contrast to the tension. "We’re keeping her here for a few days to make sure everything in her body is functioning properly. We want to ensure there’s no relapse from the electric shock that caused those Lichtenberg scars. But the good news is she’s stable."

A collective sigh of relief swept through the room. Even Bruce, the ever-composed billionaire, showed the faintest flicker of emotion on his face. Talia squeezed his hand, and Jasmine, who had been clutching her phone, looked as though a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

Tsunade continued, though her expression turned serious. "However, I need to speak with Jasmine Fenton, as she’s the closest relative we could reach. But I also need to speak with Mr. Wayne and Ms. Tate privately."

Sam spoke up. "I understand why you need to talk to Jazz—she’s Danny’s sister—but why Mr. Wayne and Ms. Tate?"

Tsunade’s gaze shifted toward Bruce and Talia, her tone softer now. "Jasmine is here as the only immediate family we could contact. As for Mr. Wayne and Ms. Tate, they’re the only adults in this room, and I need to ask them a few questions for clarification. Since there’s an ongoing blackout across multiple states, and the phone lines are down solely in Amity Park, I need to know what happened at the house. Were there any events or signs that could help me understand how this happened? Right now, I have a 14-year-old patient who was electrocuted to near death, and to add insult to injury, we’re running on backup generators at this hospital. I need to know everything that went down before Danielle was electrocuted. Once I understand what happened, we can figure out her treatment plan. As of right now, I can’t tell you when she’ll wake up, but it may be a few days."

She paused for a moment, assessing the room before continuing. "Since we haven’t been able to reach Mr. and Mrs. Fenton yet, we need another adult to help with the situation. I’m assuming Mr. Wayne will be in Amity Park for a few days, so by the time the Fentons arrive, we’ll have a clearer understanding of what’s going on."

Sam nodded, his usual sarcasm quieted by the gravity of the situation. "That makes sense. I’m sorry for questioning you."

Tsunade responded, "I know everyone’s going through a hard time, and we’re all just stressed by what’s happening. But Danielle is safe, and she’s going to make it. So, rejoice—you're going to have your friend back soon."

The group agreed, each of them processing the news in their own way. As Tsunade prepared to speak to the others, Tanya leaned back in her chair, her mind drifting back to the events that had led them here.

Flashback: Two Weeks Before Danielle’s Accident

It was a regular summer day in Amity Park. The heat of the season hung in the air as the friend group—Tanya, Sam, and Danny—spent their days doing what any normal teenagers would do: playing video games, watching movies, and enjoying their last bit of freedom before starting their first year at Casper High.

But lately, Danny seemed… different. Tanya noticed it first, as Danny had been growing increasingly distant. They would still play games and hang out, but there was an underlying tension in her actions, something that wasn’t there before.

One night, during a movie marathon, Tanya caught a glimpse of Danny’s face as she sat there, staring at the screen. Danny’s eyes were wide, and her usual energy seemed completely drained. It wasn’t from lack of sleep—though the marathon was stretching late into the night. It was something else, something Tanya couldn’t place.

When Sam asked if she was okay, Danny only mumbled something about needing a break, then retreated to the bathroom, locking the door behind her. It wasn’t unusual for Danny to be private, but this felt different. Sam and Tanya exchanged worried glances.

“Something’s not right,” Sam said quietly, his concern mirrored in Tanya’s eyes.

For the rest of the summer, they tried to figure out what was going on. They had seen the tension between Danny and Jazz, but they couldn’t know exactly what was causing it. Sam and Tanya didn’t understand sibling dynamics—they were both only children—but they couldn’t ignore the unease that had settled over Danny.

It wasn’t until one fateful movie night that everything clicked. They had been watching a cheesy, B-tier movie about a protagonist who finds out she was switched at birth. The moment the plot was revealed, Tanya noticed Danny’s reaction. Her eyes went wide, not from the movie, but from something deeper—something that seemed to shake her to the core.

“I… I need to go,” Danny whispered, slipping away before Sam or Tanya could stop her.

That was when the pieces began to fall into place. The DNA tests—Christmas gifts that Danny and Jazz had been given to uncover their ancestry—had obviously uncovered something unsettling. It was a puzzle, but one that felt dangerous.

After Danny locked herself away, Sam and Tanya sat down to talk. They decided that they would confront Danny, even if it meant pushing her boundaries. But they also realized that it wasn’t just about Danny—they had to help Jazz too. Both girls were struggling in their own ways, and Tanya knew they had to be there for her childhood friend, no matter what secrets were about to be uncovered.

So Tanya suggested that she and Danny have a girls-only sleepover. Danny was confused, asking if that meant Jazz was invited, but Tanya clarified that it would just be her and Danny, and they would be staying at Tanya's house. Danny seemed hesitant, but Sam convinced her.

“Hey, this summer’s we’ve been hanging out together. It’ll be nice if you two can spend some time together,” Sam said, trying to reassure her.

Danny still seemed reluctant, mentioning that they had plans. But Sam cut her off.

“Summer’s not over yet, and there will be plenty of time for more fun before school starts. We’ll be high school students soon, and now the time to relax .”

Danny finally agreed to the sleepover at Tanya's house.

Once the sleepover started, Danny seemed to be returning to her old self. But it wasn’t until they started watching movies that Danny began fidgeting and looking visibly stressed. Tanya paused the movie, noticing her best friend’s discomfort.

“Are you okay?” Tanya asked gently. “I know we've been friends since Pre-K. You can talk to me, no matter what. Even if it’s something difficult, know that me and Sam will always be here for you.”

At that moment, Danny broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. Tears streamed down her face as she cried her heart out. Tanya wrapped her arms around her, offering comfort and support, knowing this was much bigger than what she and Sam had anticipated.

When Danny calmed down, she finally spoke between sobs. "You are my best friend, Tanya, and I don’t know how to tell anyone. Jazz and I have been going through this alone. Jack and Maddie don’t know. I mean… my parents don’t know... I…"

Tanya gently soothed her. "Hey, take a deep breath. You don’t have to force yourself to tell me anything. Take your time. We’re here for you."

Danny took a shaky breath before speaking again. “The DNA test that Jazz and I took—it revealed some shocking truths about my family. The usual stuff people want to know about their ancestry, but… there was more.”

Tanya raised an eyebrow. “Like how you're great at chemistry and mechanics? Remember when you broke the toaster and then fixed it? I told you, you’re really good at that.”

Danny chuckled weakly and smiled. "No, not that… though maybe that's just me. But I found out that Jazz and I… we’re not biologically related. We’re not sisters. Apparently, one of my biological parents has Middle Eastern ancestry, and most likely, I got that DNA from my actual birth mother.”

Tanya’s face softened with sympathy. "Damn, Danny, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you and Jazz were dealing with all of this. But you know me and Sam—our families—we’re here for you. If you need a place to crash, or if things get too complicated, you’re always welcome at my house."

Just then, Mrs. Foley entered the room, overhearing the conversation.

“Tanya’s right,” Mrs. Foley said warmly. “You’re always welcome at our house.”

Both girls screamed in surprise, and Tanya quickly shouted, “Mom! I didn’t know you were listening! This is a private conversation!”

Mrs. Foley apologized, a smile tugging at her lips. “Sorry! I came in to ask if you wanted more snacks, but when I overheard you, I couldn’t help myself.”

Danny forgave Mrs. Foley, nodding. “It’s okay. Tanya, I understand she was just concerned. It’s not her fault.”

Danny’s voice grew quieter as she spoke again. “This is… strange. There’s this ongoing case about over 200 babies being swapped at birth, and I keep wondering if maybe I was one of those swapped babies.”

Tanya nodded solemnly. “Yeah, that’s been in the news a lot lately. Maybe it’s connected to your situation.”

Danny sighed, her face etched with confusion. “I don’t know how to feel about this at all.”

Mrs. Foley, trying to comfort Danny, added, “With the new DNA testing, there’s been an increase in the number of cases—police in Gotham and other places have been working with the families affected. This could be bigger than any of us realize." She paused, then added, "But I wanted to let you know something, Danielle: no matter what happens in the future, you always have people who care about you. Never forget that."

Note: OMG, this chapter was a lot of emotion! I’m really happy with how I ended it. I know I promised in Part 2 that I would lean into how the Infinite Realm felt the portal awakening on the other side, but it seems like that's most likely going to be in Part 4, maybe even Part 5. Considering where I'm going with the story, it might come up a little later than I would have liked, but hey, this is writing—things don’t always go as planned.

I also need to clarify why Tsunade referred to Talia as "Ms. Tate." In both canon and fan canon, Talia uses an alias when it comes to her business dealings. However, I don’t remember the exact name or last name she used, so I went with the last name she used in The Dark Knight Rises. That’s why she’s called Ms. Tate in this chapter and in future chapters—it's her civilian alias.

[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

ok looking at artfight is literally giving me a headache i think i should be done for today

[emily-mooon]

Jancy Weekend Day 4: AU

I’ve had the ocean on the brain due to it being summer, one of the teams for artfight this year is seafoam (which I love btw and hoping is the team that wins), and cause of my blogs theming, so I thought it fitting to draw them in a mermaid au! (that also takes place in the 19th century because I said so)

I’ve also just been itching to draw the ocean again. It was fun the last few times I did it and I haven’t had any ideas on what to draw in relation to it (until now)

[lulu2992]

Where are they? What are they drinking? What is she saying? Why is he smiling? Is this a “No Cult AU”? If it is, why did I bother drawing all of John’s tattoos anyway?

I don’t know... I visualized this scene, drew it almost immediately, and it made me happy.

It still does :)

And I did it! One year later, I’m done posting all the “old” drawings I said I would post! :D

[bi-focal12]

for the last prompt:

“Don’t touch those books, sweetie. They have souls.”

Miranda hesitated with her fingers poised over a golden spine. 

“Excuse me?” she asked, wide-eyed and more than a little fearful. 

The librarian simply rolled her eyes, adjusting the hem of her coffee-colored sweater. “Did you not read the danger signs we passed?” 

Slowly, Miranda lowered her hands and laced them behind her back. “Thought that was another of Dougie’s pranks,” she murmured quietly. 

The librarian sighed.

“Miss Pickery-"

“I still don’t know why you hired my brother,” Miranda interrupted, eyes slipping back to the shiny, golden book she had been tempted to pull off the shelf. “He’s not exactly…bookish. Or terribly employable.”

“Well, he doesn’t attempt to touch the books with souls, for one,” the librarian replied. 

Miranda pressed her lips together firmly, attention slipping guiltily to the carpeted floor and catching on an oblong stain that the librarian gestured to with the toe of her heeled boot.

“And he doesn’t suffer the consequences of such misbehavior like my previous apprentice, Ronald.”

Miranda couldn’t help the startled gasp that left her as she drew her arms closer to the center of her body, head whipping back and forth in the narrow aisle to ensure no part of her was near any part of these…these murdering, soul-having books.  

Seriously, if Miranda had known about Ronald the Oblong Stain when she’d received her brother’s stupid email about checking out his “cool new job”, Miranda would have deleted it without a second thought. Unread, unreplied to, and un…un-in danger, Miranda thought sternly. 

The librarian frowned back at her, all sharp featured and unimpressed, like she was privy to Miranda’s imaginary word making.  

“U-um, so where is Dougie, anyway, Miss?”

“Late,” the librarian replied. She raised her right wrist to peer at a square watch wrapped over her sweater sleeve, the arms curved like octopus tentacles and spinning far faster than the plain, round one on Miranda’s own wrist. “Or perhaps early, depending.”

“Depending on what?”

“Oh, what I wouldn’t give to be conversing with Ronald, instead,” the librarian murmured to herself, causing a deep frown to appear over Miranda’s face. 

Oblong Stain-Man, one. Miranda, zero. 

“Well, he invited me here,” Miranda petulantly reminded the woman. “I’m still not sure why, but I doubt it was to kill me so is it possible for us to wait for him in a different section of the library? Maybe one without, you know, danger signs?”

The librarian gave Miranda a swift once-over, then peered up at the ceiling, expression unchanging. 

“No. Here will do.”

“Oh, okay,” Miranda whispered shakily. “I’ll just stay here and try not to turn into goo, then.”

“Oh, pish posh,” the librarian dismissed, waving her hand in the air. “That Evelyn has much more flare than that. She would have ignited you, most definitely.”

“E-Evelyn?” Miranda repeated, peering behind herself for other, potentially-murderous library patrons. Perhaps one carrying a blowtorch.

“The book you were going to touch,” the librarian explained. “She has quite a flair for the dramatic, that girl. Your death would have been very phoenix-like.”

Miranda eyed the golden-spined book with far more wariness than before. 

“Phoenix-like…” she echoed. “Like…as in I’d come back to life?”

The librarian’s nose scrunched. “As in you’d go up in a spark of flames and crumble to ash before you could say-”

“Mimi!” Dougie called out happily, appearing in a cart-like contraption over their heads. Dougie tugged gently on a hanging rope within his cart and the whole thing slowed to a squeaky stop.

Miranda eyed the small cylinder of metal attaching the cart to the track embedded in the ceiling with open skepticism. 

“Took ya long enough,” he said, smiling. 

“Took me-?!” Miranda began to sputter, only to be silenced by a hand from the librarian. 

“Douglas,” she greeted calmly. “Anything to report?”

Dougie’s smile turned slightly bashful, and he scratched the back of his head. “Not yes, Miss. But with Mimi here, things should be fixed in a snap!” 

“I fucking hate that name,” Miranda muttered darkly beneath her breath.

“Quit whining, girl,” the librarian said, not unkindly. “It’s time to go.” 

“Please,” Miranda agreed, quickly ascending the thin, metal stairs that had stretched out from Dougie’s cart like a particularly slow accordion. She would happily go anywhere to get away from Evelyn and Ronald and who knows who else. 

The librarian followed quickly after. 

“Where are we going?” Miranda asked, cringing at the grating noise emanating from the ceiling as the cart rocked jerkily back into motion. “To lunch?”

Dougie’s email had promised lunch. 

“Uhhh, not to lunch,” Dougie admitted, ignoring Miranda’s heavily disappointed sigh. “We need you to fix something, actually.”

“And it’s not a sandwich?” Miranda pressed hopefully. 

“Sorry, sis,” Dougie laughed. “It’s…uh, well it’s a little bit bigger than that.”

“These swinging death cages, then?” she tried next. Because they could use some serious oiling, but otherwise seemed mostly stable. Even if the eccentric design didn’t invite anything but distrust. 

Dougie pulled on the rope again as they entered a new room and Miranda brought her hands up to cover her ears while she peered curiously over the edge of the cart, still hoping in vain for a cafe or a bistro. 

What she saw instead was a massive, boiler-looking thing, with moving arms on just about every square inch of its rusting, bronze surface, rounded caps lifting periodically to release hissing trails of white steam. 

What really caught her attention, though, was the small door built into its base, boasting a massive dent and an odd array of talon-like scratches along its surface. And one scrawled out word. 

Miranda Pickery. 

“...well,” Miranda said slowly, hands falling to her hips as she quietly examined the structure. “Surely I’m not the only Miranda Pickery in the area. Total coincidence, really.”

The librarian’s wrinkly hand landed on Miranda’s shoulder, her other pointing towards the far end of the boiler room. 

Miranda followed her gaze to a large, hand-painted mural spanning the entire length of the flaking wall. The figures were all done in black, or perhaps a very deep blue, and nearly impossible to make out in the dim space. The orange light from the boiler only illuminated the lowest section, where there were rows and rows of what looked like people, carrying stacks of what looked like books, and a few, hanging, claw-like feet that suggested an array of birds above their heads. 

The librarian clapped and the space flooded with blue light. Hovering orbs lined the room like street lamps- above the boiler but below the cart- revealing a concerning amount of bookshelves lining this room, too. 

A concerning amount of bookshelves and Miranda’s likeness, that is, painted in the very center of the mural with such detail that any hopes of pawning off this mystery onto some other hapless sod immediately wilted and died within her heart. 

“Oh,” Miranda said dumbly. 

“Oh,” the librarian agreed. 

“So…” Dougie started, awkwardly clapping his hands together. “Lunch, anyone?”

WRITING PROMPTS - Library

A 24/7 library has no staff, but those who enter never think to steal.

"We can't make out! This is a library!"

A magical university has a library that changes its contents entirely whenever it hits midnight.

"Shh! Reading time."

A library is the only building unaffected by a massive earthquake.

"Where did you get that book?"

A group of academics decide they want to be buried alive in the cursed library that the government are burying.

"Don't touch those books, sweetie. They have souls."

[kerizaret]

Let's run to a new world together!

[sweet-beezus]

Character redesigns and misc. Thoughts™ of the neglected

[peachcitt]

normally i never make resolutions because im of the opinion that you can change your life whenever you want and technically speaking any day of the year can be the start of a new year. that being said. my past year was kind of garbage.

so! i have decided to be more keen on new years resolutions, especially making ones that will hopefully make me feel better if something i can't control affects me negatively. i actually made a huge list of resolutions, more than i put here, that all kind of boil down to trying out ways to make my life more comfortable and fulfilling for myself and the people around me.

happy new year everybody i hope this year treats us all kindly :)

[revvywevvy]

crawls in here like a little bug. i need to scream abt random scv things dont mind me im gonna just shove my face into the tags and shriek into the void

[moonsgemini]

nobody knows - rafe cameron

summary: a secret relationship between the kook king the sweet innocent kook & bathroom sex

warnings: 18+, cursing, reader being jealous, alcohol, SMUT, slight choking, semi public sex, pinv

an: hiiii hope y’all enjoy <3 this is a lil shorter than my usual stuff. I need drew starkey bad !! Might turn this into it’s own lil universe

-

This party was going to kill you. The scene in front of you calling for you to do something irrational. It was almost as if he wanted you to accidentally spill wine on Lindsey’s head.

The way her hand constantly found a place on his bicep has you gripping your glass a little tighter. The friendly smile on Rafe’s lips not helping ease your jealousy. Neither was the way he kept leaning down so he could hear her better, as if they were at a rave. It was a fairly small party for crying out loud there was no need for that.

If you had super powers the entire back yard would be lit up in flames with the way you were glaring at the pair. Of course he also wore that shirt you loved on him. The one you had mentioned on multiple occasions that it was your favorite.

You wished you could go over there and yank him down by the collar and smush your lips against his. Let everyone know that it’s your name he’s moaning at night and his lips and body that have your coming undone almost every night.

You wished everyone knew exactly what was going on between them. Then you wouldn’t have to disguise your jealousy as a head ache. You knew it was because of you that the two of you snuck around but you’re starting to want things to change. You couldn’t stand the sight of your man giving another woman attention.

“Garrett is such a dick I can’t believe I didn’t dump him sooner,” Her friend Nessa mumbled.

She hummed and nodded in agreement while finishing off the last of her wine. Not really paying attention to what her friend was saying.

“You’ve been quiet today. More than usual, all good?” Your friend Nessa asked.

You nodded, “Yeah just have a head ache again.”

“Then lets get you another glass, being drunk will help with that,” Nessa grabbed your hand. She led you back over to the small cocktail bar that was set up which was right past Rafe and Lindsey.

As the pair of you passed them you pretended not to see Rafe. Obviously Rafe’s eyes followed you, not really paying attention to whatever the girl in front of him had been yapping about.

He was trying this new thing where he wasn’t going to be an asshole to people. Unless they deserved it obviously, but it was really fucking hard when all he wanted to do was talk to you. The old him would have just ditched her mid sentence but that’s not who he wanted to be.

He watched as you poured yourself some more wine, your friend going on about something as you nodded along. His pretty girl always being the best listener.

After a minute you said something to your friend before walking into the house. After a few seconds Rafe said something about going to the bathroom and left the babbling blonde behind. He didn’t care he wanted to find you.

When he stepped inside he saw your half empty wine glass on the kitchen counter. He walked down the hall to the guest bathroom and knocked.

“I’ll be out in a minute Ness!” You shouted from behind the door.

“It’s Rafe,” he said.

The locked clicked and the door opened to reveal your pretty frame. You had chosen to wear that dress he loves in the color he loves on you. He wasn’t the only one who chose what they’re wearing for a specific reason. You poked your head out and looked both ways before tugging him inside by the collar of his shirt. He chuckled at your antics

“Don’t you think it looks more suspicious if we’re in here together?” He smirked with a raised brow. In all honesty he didn’t really give a fuck if people saw you two together but he knows you aren’t ready.

You rolled your eyes, “It’s not like you were flirting it up out there with Lindsey.”

His smirk widened at the realization that you were jealous. He liked how around everyone you were always sweet and polite, sometimes even a little timid. But with him it was a different story. He loved the way you talked back to him and rolled your eyes at him. He loved the dirty things that sweet innocent mouth said to him when he was relentlessly fucking you.

“You jealous baby?” He stepped forward so the small of your back hit the counter.

Your scowl deepened as you crossed your arms, “No.”

He reach up stroked your cheek gently. His eyes going down to your lips, “You being a tough girl now. Come on baby you know she doesn’t have anything on you.”

Your scowl softened, “Well it doesn’t matter because it’s not like she knows that.”

Rafe leaned forward and kissed your cheek then your jaw and continued his way down to your pulse point, “I’ll let her know, we can let everyone know princess. I can fuck you right here right now.”

You gasped at his words and at the scrape of his teeth on the sensitive skin of your neck, “Rafe,” you practically moaned.

“Doesn’t sound like you’re too opposed to that,” His finger slipped under your dresses strap and pulled it down. His lips kissing the newly exposed skin as he went down to your chest, “Make you scream my name as I bend you over.”

You wanted to talk back to him but you couldn’t as your eyes fluttered shut. His hands had moved down your waist and to your thighs. Slowly dragging his fingertips up them until he plucked at your stringy underwear letting it snap back against your skin. He made you such an incoherent mess and you loved it.

With everything in you you mustered back a reply, “You sure you want Lindsey to hear.”

He chuckled against the top of your breasts that were exposed. His fingers now pressing against your wet clothed cunt.

“It seems like you want her to hear baby,” He pressed his fingers against your clit and rubbed soft circles, “look at how wet you are huh. My dirty girl.”

A whimper escaped your lips at the sensation. His fingers slipped under your tiny panties and he slid them through your sopping cunt and groaned against your neck, “God I love how you feel.”

You tugged his face up to meet your desperate eyes as you pulled him in for a kiss. You both moaned at the feeling. You loved when Rafe fucked you but you loved kissing him even more. His fingers picked up the pace a little against your throbbing clit. You could feel your wetness dripping down your legs.

“Please let me fuck you right here baby,” He mumbled against your lips, “I’ll do it so good. I’ll make you cum all over my cock.”

That whole being more nice thing Rafe was working on never applied to you. You were probably the only person on the island who had ever heard the kook king say please and thank you. Sometimes he even practically begged to fuck you or eat you out. You lived for it. It made your skin tingle and your tummy flutter.

You nodded your head, “Yes Rafey.”

He pulled his fingers away from you and practically shoved them into your mouth. You loved it though, tasting yourself on his long thick fingers. Your tongue licking them clean. He bit his lip and groaned with hooded eyes. Rafe was utterly obsessed with you.

He pulled his fingers out with a pop and leaned in capturing your mouth in his in another searing kiss. It was sloppy and made your head spin. He pulled away spinning you around. Your hands landed on the counter to steady yourself as he hiked your dress up to your waist.

Rafe gave your ass a firm squeeze and took a few seconds to admire you on this position. He loved that he could still see your pretty face in the mirror, he could see just how fucked you were for him. Your swollen lips, hooded eyes, and messy hair all because of him. It made his heart beat faster and his ego grow. He loves that no one else has known you in this way until he came around.

You watched as he began to undo his pants and pull his thick cock out. You whimpered at the sight of him stroking himself a few times. Grabbing the tiny string of your panties he pulled it to the side before lining himself up with you.

“You’re a fucking dream,” He groaned as he slipped his tip in. The warm wetness of your pussy making him throw his head back. Slowly he slotted himself in you. The feeling of you clenching around him already getting him so close.

“Fuck you’re coming home with me,” He groaned as he began moving in and out.

You nodded with hazy lust filled eyes. You’d do anything he asked of you. The feeling of him stretching you out was out of this world. You didn’t understand how he was always able to hit that spot that had your back arching and mouth forming into an o.

He fucked you as quietly as he could. Rafe didn’t give a fuck if people heard but he knew you did. It’s not like you were embarrassed of Rafe and he knew that. It would just make things complicated if people knew. There’d be constant prying and knit picking at everything you two did and how you acted.

“Oh Rafe,” you mumbled standing up so your back was against his chest. He groaned and wrapped one of his hands around your throat. Your head fell back against his shoulder.

Rafe’s other hand found it’s way to your chest. He pinched one of your nipples and squeezed your breast. He did the same thing to the other one before sliding down your stomach and to your clit. He rubbed circles as he continued to thrust into you.

He moved the hand that was around your throat to hold your jaw. Tugging your head down to look in the mirror.

“You see that baby, He nodded towards your reflection, “see how good you look when I’m inside you. My girl takes me so damn well.”

“I-I mmmph oh Rafe,” you mumbled incoherently but he knew what you were trying to say. He could tell you were close by the way you tightened around him and the way you dripping down him.

“I know,” He groaned, “I’m there too.” A loud moan began escaping you but rafe moved his hand up quickly to cover your mouth.

“Shit look at you, no one will ever compare. Fuck I’m all yours,” He grunted.

Your moans were muffled by his big hand as you came. He wasn’t farm behind as he buried his face in your neck as he came inside you.

“Well we’ve never done that before,” you giggled.

He huffed a laugh, “I’m pretty sure we’ve done that plenty of times before.”

You shook your head, “We’ve never done it in a bathroom at a party.”

He smirked as he pulled out of you and adjusting your clothes for you. He gave your ass a gentle slap, “I should make you jealous more often.”

You rolled your eyes and turned around to face him, “So what if I was jealous.”

He kissed you, “You have nothing to be jealous of. I’m yours.”

You smiled softly as your heart swelled, “Rafe maybe we should tell people.”

His eyes widened slightly, “Really?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his excitement, “mhmm I want to go on dates here in town. I want to be the one who has your attention all night and when I get too drunk you drive me home.”

He smiled, “Sounds perfect.”

After fixing yourselves to look presentable again you opened the door and led Rafe out not really thinking. But before you could even step through the doorway you were face to face with Lindsey who had a scowl on her face.

“Finally,” she rolled her eyes but then she saw the person standing behind you, “oh that’s where you disappeared to?” that scowl never leaving her.

Rafe nodded with a smirk, “My girl needed me.”

You blushed as you stepped past her with Rafe’s hand in yours with smiles plastered on both your faces.

[crushpunky]

drew and actress!readers on hot ones

masterlist | actress!reader masterlist

this is based partially off of the new hot ones interview with the obx cast. just imagine drew and actress!reader are on opposite teams rather than drew being the question person lol. yall really seemed to like the last interview-fic i did so voila <3

“I’m already sweating.” Madison said, fanning herself as they filed into the studio. Lights and a white backdrop surrounded a table covered with wings, four chairs on each side. They’d already been briefed on how things were going to go, the eight of them divided into two teams and answering questions, their answers deciding whether or not they’d be subjected to one of the very hot wings laid out in front of them.

Drew came up behind y/n, pulling out her chair for her before heading to his own seat opposite her. She smiled at him, soothing her dress down as the rest of the cast sat down. Madelyn, Rudy, and Carlacia took seats on her team whereas Drew sat with Chase, Madison, and JD opposite them.

“You better not be expecting me to go easy on you, Starkey.” Y/n grinned, resting her chin in her hands as she looked at the man across from her, his eyes crinkling as a smile crept across his face.

“You better not be expecting me to go easy on you, my love.” Drew raised his eyebrows teasingly.

“Ok, are we ready?” One of the producers asked, to which the cast responded with excited (or perhaps anxious) cheers. The camera focused in on Chase, who reached and spun the bottle of hot sauce sitting in front of them, the ultimate decider of which team would go first. It spun for a moment before landing on Madelyn, her teammates erupting with hollers as Chases picked up one of the cards.

“Alright, Mr. Rudy,” Chase smiled cheekily. “Outer Banks has hooked viewers with its countless twists and turns, however, name one storyline you think should’ve never made it out of the writers room.”

Everyone let out some groans and giggles as Rudy began to lose himself in thought… and continued and continued to think.

“Is there a time limit on these?” JD quipped, causing Rudy to roll his eyes, stroking his chin in playful contemplation.

“This is off to a great start.” Y/n said, elbowing Rudy lightly.

“Ok, ok!” Rudy said. “I’d say… I wish they didn’t switch to the second treasure so fast. They should’ve stuck at the first treasure longer.”

“That sounds like an answer to me!” Carlacia clapped as the team opposite them picked up their wings with a groan. They each took a bite, chewing for a second before they all reached for the drinks in front of them.

“Shit.” Drew swore as he took a long sip of milk, his cheeks already beginning to flush a bright red.

“Don’t worry there’s more where that came from.” Y/n grinned as Drew shook his head. Y/n reached in front of her, grabbing another one of the question cards.

“Oh, JD,” Y/n read in a sing-song voice, “Outer Banks centers around a group of teenagers, but our cast ranges from 24 to 33 years old. Which of your costars is the least convincing teenager?”

The table erupted into “oohs” as JD surveyed his co-stars, a nervous grin on his face before his gaze landed on Chase.

“I think I have to say Mr Chase Stokes.” JD chuckled.

“Is it because of the beard?” Chase teased as y/n and her team picked up the wings in front of them. With a deep breath, y/n took a bite, her mouth immediately bursting with heat. With a groan, she reached for the ice water in front of her, hoping to soothe the fire in her throat as her eyes began to water.

“No more jokes, baby?” Drew asked as y/n fanned herself off with her hand. Y/n rolled her eyes, tossing the old question card at him. Drew picked the next card, his gaze locking onto the girl in front of him.

“Oh, perfect. Y/n,” Drew began, “part of Outer Banks’ charm is the chemistry between the cast. That being said, who here is the worst scene partner?”

“Oh no!” Y/n groaned, putting her face in her hands as the table broke out in gasps and laughter. She stole a glance at the second wing in front of her, royally coated in fiery hot sauce before thinking of an answer.

“Ok, ok! I’m going to answer, but,” y/n said with an anxious giggle, “you have to let me explain!”

Her co-stars leaned in, each of them with looks of anticipation covering their faces as y/n sat up straighter in her seat.

“My answer is…” y/n paused for dramatic affect, chewing at her bottom lip nervously, “Drew, but—”

Everyone erupted into shrieks and laughter, Drew’s jaw dropping at his girlfriend’s answer. Madelyn covered her mouth, locking eyes with Carlacia before they both turned to y/n.

“No, no, no! You have to let me explain!” Y/n reached across the table, grabbing Drew’s hand, his mouth still agape.

“This is going to be good.” Rudy chuckled.

“He’s not a bad scene partner, he is just so different from Rafe and always makes me laugh, so it takes us a million takes to get a scene done!” Y/n clarified, Drew’s shocked expression melting into a small smile.

“See, you’re just such a funny guy and I love you so much that it makes it hard to do scenes with you. It’s a compliment, really, baby.” Y/n finished with a quirk of her eyebrows, her costars swooning as the couple gazed at each other softly.

“Good save, good save.” JD teased as he and his team reached for another hot wing. The game continued for several more rounds, various questions, and, of course, lots of spicy wings, until they finally made it to the finale.

The table was moved out, their seats being arranged in a circle for a cutthroat game of musical chairs that would ultimately determine the winner of the game. Round after round, the numbers dwindled until one chair and two players remained: y/n and Drew.

“No mercy, y/n!” Madelyn shouted from the side as y/n and Drew rounded the chair slowly.

“C’mon Starkey boy!” Chase cheered. Y/n looked up for a moment, her eyes meeting with Drew’s as the music suddenly stopped. Before she knew it, Drew’s arms wrapped around her torso, lifting her off her feet with a shriek. He quickly sat down in the chair, pulling her down with him, and winning the game.

“Sorry baby,” Drew smirked, pressing a kiss to y/n’s cheek. Y/n groaned playfully, tossing her head back to rest on Drew’s shoulder as the two of them laughed in the chair.

“You’re lucky I love you, Starkey.” Y/n grinned, kissing Drew’s jaw.

“Do you? Do you really?” Drew teased, nuzzling his nose into the crook of y/n’s neck, causing her to squeal with laughter. In all her life, y/n would’ve never expected that she in all her competitive nature would be ok with losing a competition, but here she was, happy as ever.