#and youre trying to find your recently dead?? dad?? who is lost in time

[ky-landfill]

Aftermath of kon’s death/reaction to his return depending on if you want sad or happy? Don’t mind who’s reacting x

[luveline]

𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐚𝐳, 𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐫𝐮𝐛𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐝 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

Eddie has a staring problem that you barely notice, though you share an aching, awful crush. One of you has to bend first, and it’s not who you’d expect. fem, 5k 

ditzy-ish reader, pining eddie, mutual pining, confessions, first kisses, fluff and hugging, idiots in love, mild states of undress

˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚

It’s a day fit for a funeral in Hawkins. Rain hammers his bedroom window like hailstones, plinking against the frame, condensation running down the panes in thick rivulets he soaks up with an old t-shirt. 

It’s supposed to be spring time. Green grass, flowers, a gentle humming sun to warm the back of his neck while he sits out on the couch on the porch, a hand-rolled cigarette between his fingers, the tip shimmering with heat. 

But the rain pours. He’s cleaned his room for the first time in a month, at least, and his back aches in the best way as he lays down amongst fresh sheets. His room feels strange when it’s organised, but he doesn’t mind. He pictures the state of it through a second pair of eyes. This is a boy who cares about things, who takes care of them, who could take care of me, too. 

Rain again rackets on the metal roof above. He and Wayne keep a couple hundred bucks stashed for the day the roof flies straight off —they take turns hiding it, because cars break down and groceries get more expensive every year, but god will they need it, and so they safeguard it well. 

He syphoned a little of the money recently with Wayne’s support. It was for a good cause. 

“Jesus,” Eddie murmurs to himself, not tired but feeling dull as the clouds outside eat the remaining sun. 

It’s depressing to be poor, and to lose a day trying to hide the evidence of an entire life in a small room. He could sleep a hundred years. 

He’s just finished pulling the sheets over his shoulder when somebody knocks on the front door. Wayne opens it three rooms away, the sound of the rain doubled. 

He gives a startling shout, “Ed! Your girl!” 

Eddie topples out of bed. Doesn’t mean to, foot caught in the bottom of the sheets and stuck as he scrambles to slide out of the mess. He’s begged Wayne not to call you that when you’re within earshot, but Wayne’s a mean (kind) old bastard (middle aged dad) who wants Eddie dead (happy, and in love). 

“Come on in, girl. You’re soaking.” 

“It’s raining.” 

“It’s pouring down. Did you walk here?” 

“Took my bike. Thought I’d get struck by lightning in the car.” 

“How’d you figure?” 

Eddie goes to grab the door handle and spins on his heel, staggering onto his bed and up against the wall, where a mirrored tray once used by Dio himself for rolling hangs from the wall. He checks his face in the polished surface, his warped mouth and nose, too small eyes, and swears to himself that one day he’ll get a real mirror with a fully-functioning reflective surface. 

Then he hops down off of the bed, causing a reverberation he knows traverses the entirety of the trailer floor. Eddie snatches a rare clean towel from his laundry chair and speeds down the hall. 

“Hello,” he says, more casual than he feels to find you unexpectedly in his house. “You’re soaked.” 

You give a sweet smile. “It’s raining out, did you not know?” 

Your hair is dripping, water racing down the curves of your face to collect at your chin. Eddie can see the smudges of your makeup where it’s washing off as he wraps a towel around you, kohl on your cheeks, eyelashes turned to half-diamonds and sticky-looking. You grin at being covered, taking the towel from his fingers before he can dab you dry. 

“Why didn’t you just call me?”’

“I can never remember if your phone number ends in three or four.” 

“Seven. I wrote it down for you a hundred times.” 

You rub your eyes and spread all manner of glitter and shadow over your skin. You wipe your neck and the glitter spreads like an alien rash. 

When you talk next, you shiver, “I lost it a hundred times, sorry. Is it okay that I'm here?” 

Wayne, who’s been watching with a distinct sense of amusement from the couch, lets out a chesty laugh. “Honey, it’s always okay that you’re here on my account. And it’s my house.” 

“It’s fine.” Eddie turns your shoulder so he can mouth over it without being caught. Asshole. 

Another laugh follows. Eddie would cut each of his fingers from his hand and then his hand from his wrist if it were something Wayne needed him to do, but that doesn’t make him any less of an opportunistic asshole. If there’s a way to fuck with Eddie, he tends to try it. He loves Eddie with all the tenacity of a father who loves his son, but Wayne got infected with little bitch disease or something and Eddie can’t cure it. 

“Can I please wash my face? I didn’t expect to get soaked.” 

“Didn’t you?” He regrets his flippancy quickly, leading you down the hall. “You could take a shower. What do you think?” 

You’ve never showered here, but Eddie’s trying to, you know, date you. Romance you, get to cherish you, however anyone wants to say it. And it’s not a war of attrition, just a natural escalation of sharing, or a minimising of boundaries. 

No, that’s pervy, isn’t it? 

“I mean–” He starts to correct himself. 

You interrupt with your answer, “Yes, please, do you think I could? But I don’t have anything to wear.”

“I have your purple hoodie in my room, and there’s gotta be a pair of sweatpants here that fit you,” he says. 

They’ve got a whole bunch of clothes here that floated in from somewhere else, Eddie’s other friends or stuff they’ve bought by mistake. He’s sure he can find something.

“You have my hoodie?” you ask, black kohl spreading across the towel as you wipe your cheek. 

Eddie only smelled it one time. When he’d realised you left it in his van he brought it in and folded it, waiting for the next time he’d see you to give it back, but that night he’d been getting out of the shower wondering if he could call you or if that was too soon, and your hoodie had been right there. So he stood there in his pyjama pants with his wet hair and he didn’t think about picking your hoodie up, he just did, and when he pressed it to his face it still smelled of your perfume. 

He put it back and felt like a loser for days.

“It’s in my closet, you left it in the van Monday,” he explains quickly, nudging you through the doorway of the bathroom. 

The Munson bathroom is teeny tiny but not unnavigable. There’s a shower pressed to the far wall that could squeeze in two people, their toilet to the right, a sink basin opposite that with a medicine cabinet and just enough room for a dirty laundry box that’s always, always full. 

Eddie opens the shower and turns it on. “It takes a while to get really hot but then it’s not hot for long, sorry. There’s my shampoo if you want it, and soap, and body wash. Sorry, none of it is super girly.” 

“Sorry sorry,” you say, pretending to hit him in the stomach. “What’s with all the sorries, handsome? I can’t wait to smell like a boy.” 

The way you say it. Eddie doesn’t know what it is, but it’s why he’s crazy about you. 

Probably shouldn’t tell you that as you're taking off your jacket, though. 

“I’ll be right back,” he says. 

Eddie heads out of the bathroom to their skinny linen cabinet hidden in the hallway. He grabs the last two towels from the middle shelf and takes pause, fabric starchy in his hands. Just be normal, he thinks, a pep talk from Eddie to Eddie. She hangs out with you all the time for a reason. She held your hand at the movies. 

Eddie’s in better spirits when he remembers that. Your hand in his, your ring pushing his ring further down his finger, your cheek touching his shoulder as you’d leaned in and asked if he wanted some of your popcorn. 

He opens the door without thinking, shower pattering against the perspex wall, your legs crossing tightly as he enters, turning yourself away from him.

“Woah!” you say, laughing.

“Holy crap.” The image of your red underwear immediately stamps itself into his mind as he pulls the door shut between you. They were really cute, red and white gingham, showcasing just the slightest curve of your– “I told you I was coming back!” 

“I thought you’d knock!” you laugh. “Sorry I flashed you. At least I had my shirt on.” 

At least, he thinks wryly, shoving his arm through the gap in the door, heavy towels pulling at his fingers. His head’s about to snap off, it's turned so far away from the door’s opening. “Here.” 

“If you wanna see me naked so bad you can just ask,” you tease. 

“Take the towels, loser.” 

You take the towels and he closes the door, preventing any more accidental creeping, and giving himself a reprieve. Gingham underwear. Wavy lettuce edgings kissing your skin. 

Holy fuck. Being a person is so lame, Eddie thinks. He wants to have a crush on you purely, and yet seeing the way you’d crossed your legs to hide from him, smiling, he can’t not think about kissing you —touching you. If he doesn’t get you laid out in his bed soon for some slow kissing he’s not gonna make it.

Eddie opens the strip vent above his window and prays it doesn’t flood his whole room. Clean, it doesn’t look half bad, he could bring you in here respectfully, you could stay the night without fearing for your life. 

You take a quick shower. He’s barely gotten over his nerves when you’re walking into his room, a towel around you, not a hint of shyness about you. 

“You didn’t bring me anything to wear,” you explain. 

Eddie just stares at you. 

“Eddie?” You wrap the towel tighter. “Come on, you’re staring at me.”

“Sorry.” His mouth is bone dry. 

“You have my hoodie, right? Just need some pants.” You cross your arm tightly across your chest. “I don’t usually notice when people are staring at me.”

“You aren’t usually naked in my room,” he says, genuinely and embarrassingly apologetic. 

“I’m not naked. Come on, please? Do I have to wait outside the door?” you ask with a laugh. 

Eddie stands up. Shakes his head hard, almost trips over himself trying to get to his dresser. He decides honesty will be best at this point, lest you think he has only one thing on his mind, “Listen, I’m sorry. I’m just in my head about something and I wasn’t expecting you to come out like that. It’s not right. You’re just… you’re really pretty.” 

“Thank you.” He can’t see you, sorting quickly through his middle drawer and all his miscellaneous pants for a pair he’s sure would fit, if he could just remember where it was. “What are you in your head about?” 

“What?” 

“Eddie, are you okay?” 

“No, no,” he moans, rubbing his face with his hand, ring scratching the bridge of his nose, “I’m not okay, princess, I’m overheating or something, Jesus Christ.” He finally lays eyes on the sweatpants he’d been thinking of, grabs your hoodie from the top shelf and drops them both at the end of the bed. “I’ll give you some privacy.” 

“I don’t have any underwear.” 

“And that’s something I can’t fix,” he says, leaving the room in a hurry. 

Eddie gets to the living room and keels over. His hair falls in his face, his shirt slides down his back. What the fuck is wrong with him? 

Wayne, sliding his shoes on in the recliner, gives a start. “What’s wrong?”

Eddie lifts his head, yanking hair from his face, the skin of his under eyes pulled down harshly. “Oh my god.”

Wayne wrinkles his nose. 

“No ones ever been such a pathetic excuse for a man before,” Eddie says. 

“Your dad’s in jail,” Wayne points out. “And not for the impressive stuff.”

“I’m pathetic.” 

“You’re fine. You’re not supposed to be not pathetic, you’re twenty.” 

“I’m twenty one.” 

“The extra year doesn’t mean much. I know you think you’re all grown up, but you’re still an idiot.” 

Wayne stands and shrugs on the jacket laying over the armrest. 

“Wait, where are you going?” 

“I thought you were definitely gonna ask her?” Wayne asks knowingly. That’s what Eddie told him, after all. “Next time I see her, Wayne, I’m asking her to go steady.” 

Eddie shakes his head. “You can’t leave.” 

“Eddie.” Wayne gestures for Eddie to stop slouching like some fiend from a bad horror. “Listen. I get that you’ve always been sort of… behind everyone, but that doesn’t mean you can’t do it. She likes you. She biked here in a hurricane.”

“What if she says no?” he asks. 

Truthfully, Eddie’s more scared of you saying yes. 

Wayne shrugs. “Girl like that’ll still be your friend after. It’ll be fine, okay? Do you need a hug before I go?” 

“No.” Eddie rubs his eyes some more, sore now from being touched. “Maybe.” 

Wayne crosses the room to give his shoulder a squeeze. “It will be fine. You’re great with rejection, Eds, but I have a good feeling about this one.” 

Eddie felt better about it, before he embarrassed himself staring at you. But Wayne’s right, even if Eddie’s read things wrong between you, he’s sure you’ll still want to be his friend. You and Eddie are the same kind of weird, though he’s more angry where you’re carefree. If everything goes wrong, you’ll probably just give an unnecessary apology and offer to braid his hair. Which will be torture, but Eddie’ll still say yes.

Wayne calls goodbye, and you shout, “Bye, Mr. Munson!” to which Wayne wiggles his eyebrows. 

“Get lost,” Eddie says. 

“Go make her a drink. I’ll see you later.” 

That’s not a bad idea. Eddie makes you a mix of orange and grapefruit juice with a couple of ice cubes and a plastic straw, your reaction predicted and then proved. 

“It’s a cocktail,” you say, pleased, sitting on the side of his bed. 

“It’s not a cocktail, just juice.” 

“Can I have some socks, please, Eddie?” 

Eddie passes you your drink, fingertips brushing. “Yeah. Anything else?” He pretends to be exhausted as he trudges back over to his dresser. 

You laugh and sip your drink. “No, I think you’re treating me quite well.” 

Eddie grabs a random pair and finally gets to sit down beside you, the dresser drawer left out, a spare sock fallen to the floor. You shuffle back into his pillows, propping your juice on his side table, and holding your hands out for the socks. Again, your fingertips touch his as he passes them to you. You seem to enjoy it, a smile lighting your face as you pull your knees up to put the socks on. 

“Thank you for waiting on me,” you say quietly. Not shyly, just quiet. 

“You’re welcome. Came all this way to see me, didn’t you?” He gives you a shove. You shuffle back further. “In the pouring rain.” 

“It felt important at the time.” 

“Yeah?” 

You get the socks on and don’t care about them once they're past your heels. Eddie does the honour of smoothing out the bands so that the elastic won’t dig into your skin, and when he’s done he can feel you looking at him heavily. You’re not one for continued eye contact, but you smile like you were waiting for it all day, like it’s a relief to see him. 

“Bad weather,” you say, slouching down. “I think I’m still wet on the inside.” 

“Gross,” Eddie says, pushing you over bodily to sit beside you. This isn’t new, he doesn’t need any nerves, and he’s grateful when they don’t come. “Here, I’ll pull the blanket over you.” 

“Can’t move,” you say, leaning back against the pillows.

Eddie stretches his legs out. You keep yours up, but you turn to his side, and before he can really make any sense of you, you’re dropping your face into his shoulder. 

“Are you still cold?” he asks, searching for the truth in your strange comment. 

You nod into his shoulder. “I’m freezing. The shower didn’t get very hot.” 

“Sorry,” he says, letting his cheek rest on your head. 

You lift your chin as he does it, his lashes pressed to your forehead, the two of you stuck together like two warped jigsaw pieces. You probably weren’t made to be together, but you make a nice picture, and you fit snugly now. That’s what Eddie thinks. 

This is the sort of moment that makes Eddie wanna ask you out. Maybe you’re just the best friend he’s ever had, but something about this closeness feels different. You wrap your arm around his stomach in a hug and he knows this is different. 

“It’s okay,” you say finally, sighing as you shift downward into his side, getting comfortable. 

“Please don’t bike here in the rain. It’s, like, torrential. You could actually get sick.” 

You feel warm where your body presses against his, but Eddie doubts that’ll make a difference if the cold already made you sick. The bike ride from your place to his isn't short. He covers your arm with his and tries to be your space heater, cheek sliding over your forehead. 

“Eddie…” You hug him with tenderness. Eddie’s reluctant to say cuddle, but it’s close. “This might be a surprise to you, but I think it’s worth the rain and the cold to see you. Especially when you do this.” 

“What am I doing?” 

“You’re rubbing my arm.” 

He hadn’t noticed his hand caressing up and down your arm where it rests on his stomach. 

“You make me feel amazing,” you say, dropping your face into his chest. 

That’s his last straw. Eddie gets both arms around you and cuddles you (it’s a cuddle, okay! he’s a loser!) to him, arms tight but not cruel. All this fuss and you’re finally laying on top of him. He decides he won’t ask you after all. He’s not that brave, and he doesn’t want this to end. 

Your legs fall onto him. You relax completely. Even after you shower he can smell your perfume. 

“You smell nice,” he murmurs. 

“It’s on my hoodie,” you murmur back. 

Right. Eddie should remember. 

“You make everything smell like you.” Even his van keeps your scent most days. 

“Too much?” 

“The right amount,” he says firmly. 

You lay on his chest for a while, just breathing. Eddie rubs your back, tells himself he will ask, actually, because he can’t imagine not getting to do this again. You might even stay over. He could live hours of this. He didn’t know having you lay on him could make him feel like this. 

He can’t believe you’ve never done it before. 

Rain pounds the window. Condensation drips down onto the sill. You let your legs stretch out flat and then manoeuvre to be laying half atop him, hoodie riding up your back. 

“Any warmer now?” he asks.

“Yeah, you’re warming me up.” You lavish in his arms for a moment, and then lift your face. “Oh, this is a bad angle.” 

“For me or you?” 

“For me, duh.” 

Eddie doesn’t think you could have a bad angle. He rubs at your upper arm as you start to shift. “You know, your bike has just as big a chance of getting hit by lightning as your car does. More, probably.” 

“You think so?” 

“It’s physics. So, please don’t do it again.” 

You hum. “Hm, should I risk getting struck by lightning, or spend the evening without you?” you murmur, your arm moving, moving slowly, your hand resting gently on the column of his neck. There’s something ironic in your voice, wry, but your eyes are warm. He’s paralysed. No one has ever spoken to him like you. “I think I’d rather get struck by lightning.” 

You stare at one another. He laughs. You join in, your thumb a pressure at his neck, and when you move up his chest to lean in, he isn’t expecting it. 

“We’re very close together,” you whisper. 

“Super close,” he whispers back. 

“…Eddie, can I ask you something?” Your eyes slip shut, your lips so close that something in him aches, just enough wit about him to cup your shoulders in his forearm. 

“Yeah.” 

He doesn’t sound half as calm as you do. 

“Would you… Do you think we could be official? Would you want that?” You tilt your head to the side. “Is that stupid?” 

“Official?” he asks, panicked, his eyes squeezed shut hard enough for a moment that they ache.

“Like, you’d be my boyfriend. I’d be your girlfriend. We’d be close like this all the time.” 

Eddie panics so hard he just says the first thing that comes into his head, “Like, we’d kiss?” 

“I hope so,” you say, your nose pressing against his, the tip to the side of his, and then against his nostril. The heat of your breath is hard to ignore. “What do you think?” 

What does Eddie think about it? 

He catches your lips in a slow kiss. Achingly slow, not even sure it’s a kiss until you reciprocate, and your fingers dig behind his neck to tease his hair. Your lips part against his, the heat of your tongue sudden and undeniable —Eddie didn’t know you had it in you. He squeezes you to him, attempting to crane his neck downward, reliant on your enthusiasm as you move up, as you use his neck to pull yourself closer. 

Your noses crush together, and it actually hurts. “Sorry,” he says, easing you back, “you okay?” 

“‘Nother kiss,” you say hopefully, distractedly. 

He can’t not give it to you. 

Your hand spreads flat against his chest and you kiss, you kiss, long and slow movements against him before turning your head to take it again. Eddie doesn’t always know what to do with himself, but he knows kissing, no matter what anybody might think about him, and he takes the lead. 

His hand screws into a fist against your hoodie, the slip of your back further exposed as you shiver into his mouth, a sound you shouldn’t make sweet on his tongue. 

You pull away, breath on his lips. “Wanted you to kiss me for so long,” you murmur. 

Eddie knows you’re not saying it to flirt, and that makes it worse. 

“I should’ve kissed you a long time ago,” he says roughly. 

“You wanted to?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, so much, I’m a loser about you–”

“I’m always a loser,” you interrupt, “but especially about you.” 

You scratch your fingers through his hair, encouraging his head down for another kiss. This one rougher but not rough, his arm slips finally behind your head where he’d needed it to be, hooking you in his elbow to keep you in one place. To kiss you soundly, without interruption. Your almost feverish ebbing inward is a dream, your nose rubbing up against his is a fantasy. 

His heart hammers and hammers at his ribs. 

You pull away to let him breathe. “You’re very excited,” you tease lightly. 

Eddie kisses you, breathless. He kisses you so much he’s surprised you allow it, but your thumb rubs his cheek, and he knows he’d been right all along. You want him like he wants you, with startling, mildly pathetic urgency. 

He feels like a fucking prince. Girl of his dreams in his lap, everything he wants, and he didn’t even have to ask. 

—

Eddie spends a week in bliss. You’re suddenly everywhere, all the time, attached to his hip or some other part of him, and he forgets for seven whole days that he bought you a ring. 

The rain dries up, the Munson emergency fund lives to die another day, and he remembers the ring only minutes before you’re knocking at his door. 

He trips over himself trying to answer it before Wayne, who’s taken to being as painfully embarrassing as is possible for one human being, can get it for him. 

“One day you’re gonna eat shit and break your nose,” Wayne says. 

Eddie yanks open the door. “Yeah, thanks. Hey, beautiful, what’s with the sunglasses?” 

You slide them down your nose. You’re a vision on his front step, not that you’d ever notice your own intrigue. “The sunglasses?” you ask, tucking them away. “What do you think they’re for? Three guesses.” 

He grabs your waist, leaning down out of the doorway so as to save Wayne the agony. “That’s smart,” he says, kissing you quickly in hello. “You’re funny. Need anything before we go?” 

“No, I’m okay. Hi, Mr. Munson!” you add.

“Hey, honey! How are you?” Wayne calls.

You look up into Eddie’s face with an obvious delight. “I’ve never been better.” 

Eddie grins back. 

He waves a quick goodbye to Wayne and then he’s out the door. You grab his wrist and practically dance him to the car, where you offer your keys, and he deigns to drive. From there it’s smooth sailing, familiarity with a better twist, Eddie driving with the windows down and your hands twined on your thigh. Things haven’t changed much since you asked him to go steady, there’s just a whole lot more of this. Touching, kissing, no weird guilt about staring. 

As it turns out, you’re as eager to be laid out in his bed as he is to lay you out. He’s never wanted to kiss you more, and now he’s allowed. 

“Eyes on the road.” 

He leans over to kiss your cheek. The sun has warmed your skin, and his kiss makes you smile. You look pretty no matter the weather. 

“Before we get there, I have something to give you.” He takes his hand from yours to slide the box from his pocket. He holds it up. “But you can only have it if you swear you’ll call me tonight before bed. No excuses. You know exactly what number to call.” 

“Ends with a three,” you say, nodding. 

He sighs. “No, it does not.” 

“I’m kidding! Two one nine seven, I have now committed it to memory.” 

Eddie pays attention to the road, though it’s clear and long heading out of the trailer park and into town. “That deserves a gift.” 

You’re back in your glitters today, a skirt to enjoy the fine weather, a button shirt with a cute triangle collar, you’re lovely as ever, if a tad much for some. Not Eddie. He loves the dark clothes, the tinkling bracelets, the fun way you smile like everything he says is a secret between him and you. People stare wherever you and Eddie go, but as long your arm is sewn through his he couldn’t care less. 

“A gift,” you say, smiling in your way, and taking the box politely. “I don’t think I deserve it for just remembering your number.” 

“You deserved it for less. It’s not much. You can pay me back in three or four amazing kisses. Right here.” He points to the tight juncture beneath his jaw. 

You attempt to lean over and kiss him immediately. He pushes you back, laughing, worsened by your own breathless laughter as you steal one exactly where he’d tapped. 

You settle back down, Eddie’s hand dropping kindly to your knee. “I wonder what it is,” you say. 

“Then open it.” 

“I am!” You pop the box open, it’s springing hinge snapping into place. “Oh, woah. Woah. Where did you get this?” 

It’s a slim ring, with a weirdly shaped band of quality metal around some cheaper but not totally worthless gemstones, of which there are three different colours: a topaz orange, a lime green, and a pinky-red ruby colour centre stage. They have nice cuts. It’s strange as you are, and he knew when he saw it you’d have to have it. 

“If I put it on my marriage finger, are we engaged?” you tease. 

“That one would be way heavier,” he says, giving you a squeeze. 

You slide it onto your middle finger and hold your hand up in the sunshine. It fits in with your other ring nicely, though it is, to Eddie’s pride, far prettier. 

He has half a mind to pull over and kiss each knuckle, but he’s trying to be less dramatic about you. It’s not working. 

“Thank you, Eddie. I love it.” 

“Best boyfriend ever?” he asks hopefully. 

To his mild fear but better pleasure, you climb up onto the console to press three quick kisses to his cheek and jaw, your hand under his ear holding him in tender place. “Best boyfriend ever. Even if you stare too much.” 

“How am I supposed to not?” he asks, with more weight than he’s intended. 

You speak matter of factly for the first time in your life. “I am going to cause an accident,” you promise, attempting to kiss his nose. “A bad one.” 

“Sit down, please.” He lets you kiss his nose, and then jabs you in the side. “Sit down, oh my god! That’s not funny, you’re so pretty I will total your car.” 

“Now who’s not funny?” 

You both laugh at the same time, the unfiltered, un-cute cackling of two idiots with the same sense of humour, and the same wealth of ridiculous honeymoon love. 

˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚

thank you so much for reading!! I hope you enjoyed. if you did, please consider reblogging or commenting!! thanks very much <3

[bipanicoverthegravessiblings]

Andrew and Ashley x Male reader who can commune with the dead?

Gotcha gotcha

Graves Siblings x Medium!Male Reader

To be completely honest….the ability to talk to ghosts isn’t as cool as it sounds

Most would expect ghosts to hang around graveyards or abandoned buildings like a school, or a hospital, or a house- but no. They were everywhere

To be honest, it made sense. Why would a ghost want to hang around where they died? Thats just depressing

So, they wander. Following their loved ones. Trying to live an empty husk of their old life. Being fucking weird.

Which made it hard for you to tell the difference a lot of the time. Sometimes you’d talk to a person and they’d turn out to be a ghost!

Now you look crazy!

Like recently…

The sidewalks were virtually empty. It was getting late into the evening, and it made sense that people would head home. You yourself were making your way back to your apartment building when you spotted something….strange.

A girl. A little girl. She looked no older than…7 maybe? In all honesty you were never good guessing ages, but you knew enough to deduce that this kid was too young to be by herself. She looked around anxiously, her blonde pigtails moving every time she turned her head. Her hands fussed with the hem of her purple shirt that had a flower on it. It looked like she was looking for her parent.

You were- hesitant about walking over. A strange man approaching a child in the middle of the sidewalk looked sketchy, especially since you were nowhere near looking like this kid’s parents. But- you figured that if you didn’t, some actual creep would. So, you hesitantly stepped towards her.

“Heyyy…kid,” the girl flinched a little as you approached, making you regret your decision. Though, it was too late to turn back now so, “Uh- where’s your mom?..”

The girl blinked up at you and then looked away, hands still fidgeting with her shirt, “Away…” she sounded sad.

“Your dad?..” you raised an eyebrow.

“Also away..” she shrunk a little, this seemed like a touchy subject.

Picking up the vibe, you steered clear of parent related questions, “Are you…looking for someone? You look lost.”

She glanced up at you, and then back to her hands- her purple eyes welling with tears, “Y-Yeah…” she squeaked out.

“Well, maybe I can help you find them,” you knelt down to her height, “There aren’t a lot of people out right now, so it shouldn’t be too hard…do you remember what they look like?”

The girl nodded, “Uhh…two adults. Black hair. A boy with green eyes and a girl with pink eyes.”

Two black haired adults with green and pink eyes. Okay! Easy enough! Must be siblings…or babysitters….or….some third thing. You stood up, “Okay! Should be easy enough!” You held your hand out for the little girl, “My name is Y/N, what’s yours?”

The little girl studied your hand curiously, taking it with a small smile, “Nina!”

You and Nina searched for the adults she was supposed to be with, until you came across them sitting and eating in the outdoor area of a restaurant

You were…baffled. These people supposedly lost track of the kid they were supposed to be watching and decided to get something to eat???

You were reconsidering handing this kid over to them, but what were you going to do? Take her to the authorities? You didn’t exactly trust pigs around this kid either, so you approached the table

The pair looked at you with hostility, the man reading a paper and the woman poking it in boredom. You were clearly interrupting something. Maybe they hadn’t noticed Nina…

“Uhm- sorry if I’m interrupting anything..” you stammered, “But, I think you lost something?..” you nodded your head to where Nina was standing beside you.

Both black haired individuals narrowed their eyes at you, looks of confusion clear across their faces.

“What the fuck are you on about?…” the woman’s eyes narrowed.

You felt yourself grow flushed with embarrassment, Nina hasn’t said anything or run to hug either of these individuals….it also felt like she wasn’t holding your hand anymore…

You glanced down at your side, and lo and behold- Nina was gone. You whipped around, looking around like a mad man for the kid.

“Wh- what the?” Your eyes widened and you held out your hands defensively, “I swear there was a kid here!”

The man leaned towards the woman, whispering to her loud enough for you to hear, “You have your gun on you, right?..” the woman nodded.

Shit! Okay! Sweat poured down your face as you nervously looked around some more to avoid getting shot, “I-I swear! There was a kid here, about like….7? Maybe younger? Blonde pigtails, purple shirt with a flower on it,” you didn’t notice both individuals eyes widen, “Her name was Nina—“

“WHO TOLD YOU THAT NAME?!” The woman grabbed you by your shirt collar, pulling you close. She stared daggers at you, looking ready to kick you in the groin before shooting you dead. You gulped.

“Ashley!” The man slammed the newspaper down, reprimanding her to let you go. Ashley obliged, though turned away and grumbled. The man gave her a final glare before looking at you, “I’m sorry about her,” he had a calm demeanor…but there was something uneasy about his voice, “You said…Nina?”

You nodded, “Yeeaahhh, but I’m starting to realize that…might’ve just been a ghost. Whoops.” You held out your hands anxiously.

“Dumb bitch is still following you around?” Ashley muttered under her breath.

You turned your attention to her, “I’m sorry what?”

“Don’t mind her,” the man smiled uneasily, “I’m Andrew…now- what the fuck did you mean by ‘might’ve been a ghost’? Is this a…regular occurrence?”

“Kinda..” you rubbed the back of your neck nervously, “I kind have this sixth sense. Some people have increased empathy, I can talk to body detached spirits!” You looked Andrew and Ashley over, “Did you- know this Nina?”

“No!” They both said in perfect unison, Ashley seemingly offended while Andrew was very defensive. They clearly knew her, but you weren’t going to press any further.

“Oooookkaayyyyyy..” you adverted your gaze from their terrifying…yet alluring…ones.

You wanted to run away and hopefully never run into these people again, but they were insistent on keeping you in sight

However they knew this Nina, it was something serious.

Ashley didn’t seem to take the fact that she was still following them around very well

Andrew consistently had to calm her down from making a scene

And truthfully….watching them banter was fun

You’d idly stare at the pair, going back and forth with empty threats and remarks the other would make about those threats. It was fun. It was nice

Andrew decided it was best to keep in touch with you, given you running into Nina- though how he said it made it seem like the two had multiple dead people that would be tailing them

You didn’t say this out loud though

The more time you spent with the siblings, your theory became correct

You slowly noticed more and more spirits hanging around the three of you: A scorned looking middle aged woman with similars eyes to Andrew’s, a hooded man with his limbs floating behind him, another hooded man with thick sunglasses and a mask that obscured his face- you could go one.

You never talked with these ghosts, really the only one you did speak to was Nina- though Ashley didn’t like it when you two spoke. She didn’t like Nina in general

If she caught you talking with her, or making motions to indicate she was around- Ashley would spew profanities and horrible things til she went away

It was cruel…and you kind of hated her for it at first

Though the more time you spent with the siblings, you came to realize that they were just….broken individuals

Terrible people put into shitty circumstances

It was almost…disheartening

If things had been different, would they have turned out better? The same? Worse?

It hurt your heart more than you wanted to admit…

You knew your feelings towards these two, at first you assumed it to be just fleeting physical attraction- I mean- look at them!

But no- turns out spending time with people increased your attraction to them. Who knew!

You like to think at least one of them felt the same

You knew the whole reason they kept you around was to keep an eye on you, make sure you didn’t know anything you shouldn’t have

At least at first it was

Andrew was the first to catch feelings for you

His love of the macabre led to conversations, questions on if you’ve ever spoken with ghosts of poets or writers he was interested in

He didn’t have to know you totally lied when you said yes

Unfortunately you had to read up on old English poets in case he asked about them, but it was a worthy sacrifice

He was just happy to have someone to talk to about an interest that wouldn’t make fun of him

Ashley didn’t take too kindly to this, which is why she fell slower

She didn’t buy any of your kindness, acting distant and cold with you- especially as you got closer with Andrew

It was also causing tension between the two, you could just guess it

So you took the initiative, deciding to spend the day just you and Ashley

Ashley was going to spend the day with you whether she liked it or not…and right now it was looking like a not. Since you two arrived at the park, she hadn’t said a word to you. The only response you would get is a cold shoulder or an icy glare that cut like a knife. It was a little painful to be honest. You never wanted to piss her off or make her hate you, genuinely you wanted to get closer to her. But Ashley was proving to be difficult…

“Sky sure is pretty today!” You said, attempting to break the awkward and tense silence. It did not work, as Ashley continued to ignore you. You wanted nothing more than to book it into the nearby duck pond and just drown, putting this awkward attempt at bonding.

You were walking down a trail, Ashley actively stepping on the cracks as she walked. In the corner of your eye you spotted the familiar spirit of the middle aged woman. Her lighter green eyes narrowing at Ashley.

“What are you looking at?” Ashley’s voice pierced the silence like a katana. You blinked down at her, her eyes narrowed up at you.

“Uhhh,” you glanced at the ghost, “Just a ghost hanging around.”

“Who?”

Holy crap she’s actually talking to you! Don’t fuck this up…

“I haven’t really spoken with her..uh- black hair. Green eyes. Middle aged..” you shrugged your shoulders.

That was apparently the wrong answer- as most of your responses to Ashley were- as she clammed up. This time with more anger. Her eyes darted in the direction you’d been looking in, trying to give the ghost a death glare. Must be another person the siblings had history with, given how similar she looked to them they must be related.

Hmmm….maybe this could be put to your advantage?…

“You know I can talk with ghosts…” you said rather nonchalantly, “I could…deliver a message to this ghost if you want..”

Ashley’s eye seemed to light up at that. For the first time since meeting her, you think you said the right thing.

Ashley’s message to the ghost woman, and any other you came across, was vulgar and worthy of eating soap if you were to repeat it to a living person

A lot of use of the word “hussy” and “cunt”

But you delivered every message, informed Ashley when a ghost was staring at her….minus Nina of course

A ghost child is still a child, and she seemed like too good of a kid to be in the front of Ashley’s wrath

But Ashley didn’t need to know that

For once, she seemed to genuinely enjoy your company. Describing you as “pretty alright” to Andrew

Success!

From then things felt…less tense between the three of you

You were less of a hostage to them and more of a friend

And if you played your cards right….eventually you might be more

[bl0rbohandbag]

– some vampire the masquerade x changeling the lost concepts that will not leave me alone.

"but vtm and ctl are from different settings–" shhhhhh :)

— part 2.

before i begin: i have been dabbling in vampire the masquerade and changeling the lost content for a while, i am not a fan of changeling the dreaming and vampire the requiem is unfamiliar to me. anyway! buckle up, enjoy the ride, this is kind of long.

trigger warning for abuse/unhealthy parental relationships because vamps i guess.

first of all: i recently read vtm: bloodstained love. while it focus on the more romantic and sexual aspects of kindred relationships with a lot of references to obsessive/posessive behavior and grotesque acts of love, it also made me wonder how those would translate to platonic or familial relationships. add some changeling shenanigans to that and we have some interesting concepts to play with! and with that being said...

– you're a changeling. kidnapped into arcadia and trapped there for who knows how long. in your durance, you dream of going back home, of reuniting with your friends and family, escaping your keeper to finally, finally enjoy freedom in the world you were born in.

– and one day, you do escape. back into your world, never feeling completely safe with your keeper looking to get you back and huntsmen being a very real threat, but you're ready to rebuild your life and enjoy your newfound freedom.

– there are various mentions throughout the ctl books on how unsuspecting or heedless changelings might have their freedom stolen again, this time by kindred. so, as it turns out, you'll have to deal with creatures other than the true fae who are more than willing to keep you caged!

the angst potential in a changeling reuniting with ther parent(s) only to find out they've become something inhuman, and not all that different from their keeper is unmatched.

maybe you watch them from a distance first. maybe you excitedly seek them out. maybe you just randomly bump into your parent by complete chance, after presuming them dead or deciding to abandon your old life. maybe they find you.

but the point is: they're kindred. so different from when you last saw them, as a teenager, as a child, before you were taken. as if having huntsmen and your keeper after you wasn't trying enough, a vampire parent comes (back) into your life to make it even more complicated.

a ventrue dad will make his ghouls your bodyguards, following you day and night. it makes you insanely uncomfortable, as you liken them to changelings serving true fae back in arcadia. he says it's because of his own dangerous kindred affairs that might affect you, but after an unplesant encounter with the huntsmen he might just decide you shouldn't be out and about at all.

your parent is either a neonate or an ancilla by the time your return from arcadia. your fetch is dead for whatever reason, expired, after living a life in your stead, automatically making the vampire believe their child is dead– now imagine their surprise and confusion when they see you– real you, living and breathing. and maybe you're distraught, too, seeing that they haven't aged a day or should, depeding on how long you've been gone, be most definetly dead.

(this is absolutely NOT going to send the vampire parent into a mental breakdown and spiral into obsession upon discovering the child they have lost and buried was literally a soulless copy of their real child who got kidnapped by faeries. a clone made out of twigs and a cat's eyes that stole their child's place and they never noticed. everything is just fine. it does not them affect them mentally at all :3)

(bonus points if the fetch was killed by the vampire parent's enemies after being entagled in their mess. they feel like they are getting a second chance and will absolutely not screw it up! cue you, poor changeling, being locked away or put under heavy surveillance.)

on the other hand, a kindred parent who currently has a living fetch of their child just being EXTREMELY distraught when they keep spotting someone who looks exactly like their kid at random places they definetly shouldn't be at is very funny and kind of unsettling!

(a vampire mom just feeding on mortals at the club, socializing with other kindred, perhaps dealing with some unresolved issues with her sire, etc. Then she spots you, her real kid, unbeknownst to her, just chilling, among all those dangerous vampires, when you're supposed to be in your dorm room at least a thousand miles from there. she calls the fetch's phone, expecting you to pick up and start explaining yourself. your fetch answers the phone, talks to her, sleep-drunk and confused as to why she's calling so late, but the person she's looking at has made no motion at all. they're not talking. they have not picked up the phone. but that's her kid's face, she's sure. what the fuck?)

for low-humanity ancillae/elder kindred, having their child back might bring about long-forgotten mortal feelings of genuine parental love, although they might express in the very unorthodox way kindred would. they simply do not understand why their child does not want to be around them. they just want to bond with you and keep you safe where kindred and fae can't get to you, make up for lost time. what do you mean they're "just like your keeeper"?

i think a lot of kindred parents will leave you be, mostly brujah or gangrel, knowing you'll be safer if they keep you away from their world. provided there was no fetch to replace you, they think it's amazing enough you were found alive and well after years of being a missing person. you don't like talking about what happened in your... "durance"... fine, they'll keep the investigators off your back, too. they might not even know you're no longer human. but they are going to check on you once in a while, or keep tabs on you, or even have some of their people watch you from a distance. just to make sure.

(just don't let them catch wind of all the changeling shenanigans or huntsmen attacks on your person. that might just change their mind...)

kindred parents might believe you're safer away from their world, yes, but they can just as easily bring you into the mess of kindred society without a second thought.

not very fun being a fairest when your toreador mother insists you show your mien to impress her fellow clan mates and other kindred with your overwhelming beauty. she's always been a pageant mom, so this shouldn't surprise you. there's several layers of wrongness to this, from having your changeling identity exposed to multiple vampires to further your mother's social status to this very situation bringing back so many unpleasant memories from your durance, and it's bound to end badly.

(the toreador pageant mom could very easily be a nosferatu pageant mom, a cleopatra now living vicariously through your fae-given beauty.)

(she will realize how terrible a mistake that was when vampires start really paying attention to you. or not. who knows.)

(gifts that could easily have come from a true fae lord start pouring in. letters written in excessive passion, bouquets of bloody roses, dresses made out of human skin, all delivered by equally dazed-looking ghouls. perhaps your mother will know, then, she fucked up severely. or maybe she'll just tell you to be grateful for those wonderful gifts.)

on another hand, a nosferatu parent taking one look at their fairest child's mien and deciding "oh. no kindred can see you like. ever. stay away from toreador specifically". you don't know what a toreador is, but you'll try to heed the advice.

your ancilla mother meets your motley and proceeds to show them baby pictures of you, taken in the 1870s shortly before your abduction to Faerie. they are very well preserved and you look most proper in your little sailor outfit.

you have a beast/ogre seeming and your gangrel parent thinks you're pretty rad :) you go hunting together.

your tzimisce dad has living furniture made out of human skin, but it's nothing you haven't seen in arcadia before. he's a little disappointed by your lack of enthusiasm, and very offended when you tell him your keeper had better taste in couches. trying to evade a tzimisce dad after he's been made aware of your existence is a difficult task, and you will get caught and held captive at one point (for your safety, of course!). if there is a fetch currently living your life, they will be immediately killed or horribly tortured (read: vicissitude) for the crime of decieving the tzimisce and impersonating you, regardless of you already having decided to leave said fetch alone.

(tzimisce dad thinks you should be thankful. he dealt with the imposter. shouldn't you be happy?)

(if he’s got cash and has some land within his domain to spare, he might let you build a little home not too far from his own to give you a semblance of independence to try and settle you down. might.)

(on the other hand, you have the chance to become a really good escape artist. take your time in captivity with your tzimisce dad to practice your escaping and running away skills, after all, every good changeling needs it! you also get the bonus of reliving your childhood/teenagehood with all the sneaking out.)

(quick intermission: all of these concepts might result in low-clarity for the changeling?? i'm not too sure how clarity damage works yet.

update: it absolutely might!)

your malkavian mother thinks she's plagued with visions of her missing child, glimpses of what they might look nowadays, wherever they are. this is actually you, visiting her in her dreams through oneiromancy.

(everyone thought, back then, that it was just a scare. you wandered into the forest and for ten hours people searched for you, only to find you safe and sound, without a scratch in your body or a speck of dirt in your shoes hours later. but she knew better. she knew that wasn't really you. it haunted her for the rest of her life, and it haunts her unlife even now. she never made it to the hedge.)

you can't take your tremere parent ANYWHERE. you give in after endless nagging and take them to a goblin market, but their arrogance will get them roped into terrible deals if you don't keep your eyes on them full time. you do take this as an opportunity to show off your changeling capabilities. you're in your element.

(you also drop life-altering bits of Faerie lore at random or inappropriate times. it sends them spiraling. you just hope they won't share it with anyone...)

darkling changeling just chilling with their nosferatu dad in the sewers, sharing rats.

and that's all for today, folks.

[kywaslost]

hello!! how are you? ive been watching the wednesday show on netflix and i was wondering if i can i get hcs for aizawa with a daughter whos maybe 8 or 10 who acts exactly like wednesday addams? like extremely deadpan and bitter, and rarely ever shows emotions? they act a little similar so i thought it would be a cute concept >w< thanks so much!

Wednesday - Aizawa x Daughter!Reader

A/N: Hello! Thank you for requesting! Sorry it took so long! So, I’ve never actually watched The Addams Family, or Wednesday, so I tried my hardest using what I’ve heard and what I could find online to make this as accurate as possible. Hope it’s to your liking!

To say you were an exact replica of your father was an understatement. It didn’t matter whether or not if you had the same hair color or eye color as your dad. It was all in your personality.

When class 1-A first met you, there was no doubt in their minds that you were Aizawa’s daughter. They didn’t need their homeroom teacher to tell them that.

You first met them when the dorms were finished and you were moving on campus with Aizawa.

You were sitting at Aizawa’s desk as he taught, staring out at the class. You were deadpan, showing no emotion, which would be fine if Aizawa was teaching an easy topic. But today’s lesson was on forensics and different murder cases.

“Y/N chose this case herself,” he said honestly, presenting a slideshow over a recent homicide.

The class raised a collective eyebrow.

“A man bought a house only to discover the dead body of its previous owner in the basement.” Your voice was monotone as you looked up at your dad. Then you shrugged. “Thought it was interesting.”

The class’ jaws dropped.

“YoU’rE tEn!?”

They had a hard time understanding your obsession with death and forensics at first, but the longer they were around you, the more they got used to it.

So used to it, in fact, that whenever a new homicide or death was mentioned in the news, they’d pause it to go get you, letting you watch it with them. But only if they deemed it clean enough for a child. You were still young and innocent, after all. Well, to an extent.

Class 1-A was wary of you at first. You came off as very bitter, not really caring what happened around you. Once you saw Izuku walk into the dorms with blood dripping down his hand. He had broken it while training outside. And what did you do? Just shrugged and turned around.

Momo had asked you to run and get Aizawa and your response was, “no. He should deal with his own consequences.”

Needless to say, class 1-A was shocked.

Of all the time AIzawa’s students were around you, they’d only seen you cry once and that was because you lost control of your quirk (which was exactly like your dad’s) for a time and it had given you a terrible migraine.

The only other emotion they’d seen from you was anger, but that was only once as well. Mineta was trying to make a move on you and you lost it, somehow typing him to the ceiling with one of Aizawa’s capture weapons.

You were an experience, to say the least. But class 1-A loved having you around. You were like their homeroom teacher, bitter and emotionless. But you were a good kid. They liked having you around.

Aizawa loved you just as much. Just because you were a bit different from the kids your age didn’t bother him in the slightest. You were just like him, how could he have an issue with that? He loved you. That’s all you care about.

[s0ul-j0k3r]

Rick Grimes x Single Dad Reader

Maybe a new reader and his son (I would say toddler age) make it to Alexandria and reader is very protective of his son and rick offers to house reader and his kid and maybe reader and rick start talk about their past just to find out they both used to be sheriffs and eventually leads to rick and reader spending more time together and eventually they just kiss and confess their feelings to each other maybe some fluff between both their families just having a small dinner.

I'm so sorry that this has been cooking in my inbox like a thanksgiving dinner, I have a MASSIVE writing block. But I honestly love this idea.

Lil bit of warnings: Male reader, fluff, in apocalypse, language, shorter than I thought it would be, lil bit of violence here and there, probably ooc Rick.

Pulling through this entire mess was a hard job. Especially with your toddler son, you never wanted him to go through this. You've always tried your best to keep him safe in every way possible.

You were driving in an abandoned car, your son in the passenger seat sleeping soundly while you drove down an empty road. You struggled to keep your eyes open from the little sleep you've been getting.

You were so lost in your thoughts when a slam and blood was splattered across your car, causing your son to get startled and start crying. You sighed, knowing it was a walker. You picked up your son and placed him in your lap, he clung to your shirt, trying to muffle his cries.

You felt bad for scaring him. You soothed him by rubbing his back, your other hand still on the wheel.

It didn't take long for him to calm down. After a good half hour past, you found a place that apparently was heavily guarded. Walls surrounded it, your eyes lit up.

You opened the door to your car, your child in your arms. You suspected there to be either living or dead people in there. You never know until you attempt.

You found your way to what seemed to be the opening. Some man looking at you, before realizing someone was actually there. Your hand was over your gun like some 1890's standoff. Only risky part was that your son was in your arms, he was only a toddler.

The man opened the gate a little bit more to get a better view of you. "No need for violence." He stuck out his hand in front of him to show you to keep your hand away from the gun.

"Who the fuck are you?" You questioned without hesitation. "Rick, Rick Grimes." He slowly out down his hand. "This is Alexandria." He spread out his arms, representing the giant place within walls. You looked around to see if this wasn't some sort of kind of trick that was going on.

"Come in, ain't safe out here for you or your kid." He pointed at your son. He was right, you gave in.

You walked in, taking a good look to what seemed to be like a classy village. You we're honestly impressed with the place, but Rick walked by your side.

"I can get you a house of you'd like." He offered. You only nodded as an agreement. His hands gestured for you to follow him, and so you did.

"I got two kids myself." He glanced over at you. "Carl and Judith, Carl's a teenager, Judith on the other hand is nearly your kids age." "This is my son." You didn't bother to even say your sons name to some complete stranger you just met probably just 3 minutes ago.

He didn't seen to mind, he seemed to be chill, not pressuring you. You arrived to a pretty large house, people could easily said it was like a mansion. "Here we are, you can stay here if you want." You didn't overly speak when he said that.

He walked away when you walked inside. The house was nice, your son babbled, making little noises. You softly smiled, you could trust this place if you weren't dead yet. But your son in your responsibility you seemed more protective recently.

A knock was heard on the door, you swiftly turned around, but yet still being careful of your son. You didn't dare to put him down. You looked the person from head to toe, it was Rick. Wasn't long gone was he?

His hands we're on his hips as he waited for you to let him inside. You opened the door cautiously, letting out a hum. A boy that kind of looked similar to him with a sheriff's hat on his head, holding a seem to be little girl. You easily guessed what Rick said was his son and daughter, Carl and Judith.

You stepped out of the way with your son in your arms, still holding him. The 3 walked inside. "Need something?" You asked.

"Just here for a quick chat, y'know, introduction." He had an accent you could easily hear. He leaned against the counter. He introduced his kids to you.

You took a further notice to the hat Carl was wearing. "Where did you get that hat from?" You tilted your head out of confusion. "I was a sheriff." Rick added, you looked at him. "I was too." You nodded.

"Probably from a different city of yours, but yeah." You smiled, making Rick nod. "Your kid looks like you." You took it as a compliment. It was out of the blue but it was a nice thing to get complimented especially in a apocalypse.

Your son babbled once again, looking at you, "What's his name?" Carl asked, shifting Judith in his hands. You finally admitted your kids name. "It's a nice name." You and Carl smiled at each other.

Weeks went past, you soon met ever one there. They're pretty nice people. They knew you as a nice hardworking man that stood like a leader puke Rick. Daryl seems to be a bit off, you didn't seem to mind it at all. You and Rick became good friends. But he seemed to notice something quickly.

"Your son's always near you. Your always holding him, or he's always within' arms reach." "In a shitty world like this yeah. You never know what's to be expected in a world like this." Rick nodded, understanding. "I was like that with my kids, understood Carl kind of liked to be alone. Judith obviously needs to be watched." You both chuckles at that.

"Carl knows how to aim pretty good, so I let him be on his own. Best know how to beat this world." "I'm gonna' be like that with my son." Looking at your child in your arms. You handled kids well. You probably won't let him on his own, but surely let him learn how to protect himself.

"You're a nice guy m/n." He glances at you. You smiled at the compliment. "And so with you." You felt your face get a bit warmer the longer you looked at him. "Uh, I need to go." Rick mumbled.

"You don't need too." You flat out said, making him look at you. "Stay a little longer, please?" You slightly begged.

"What's the problem? You usually never leave this early." You were now standing in front of Rick. "It's nothing." He nearly stuttered. He was avoiding eye contact, his cheeks seemed more red or usual.

"You alright Rick? You look a little sick." You questioned out of worry, setting your son on the chair you were recently sitting in. "It's just..." He paused.

"I know this might be wrong in many people's eyes, but.." He sighed, he couldn't seem to spit out what was on his mind.

"I like you a lot, m/n." He looked at the ground feeling his face flush from embarrassment. You could understand why he was embarrassed but you couldn't but help but to feel hot in the face.

"I like you a lot too, Rick." You smiled warmly at him. "Would you want to come over for dinner at my house, like a little thing between two families?" You nodded and smiled, agreeing to the little 'first date.'

An hour later you arrive to his house with your son by your side holding onto your finger with his small hand.

The dinner that Rick prepared was by all honesty, pretty well made and it was nice to your taste. Your son seemed to enjoy it so he was gratefully happy.

"M/n could I talk to you outside?" You looked up at Rick, who asked you the question. You shrugged and agreed, telling Carl to keep a close eye on your son while you were gone.

Stepping outside into a cool breeze was chilling but you still felt warm by Rick.

"I can't believe I'm doing this.." You heard him mutter, you looked at him confused before swiftly he took a hand to your cheek and a pair of lips were on yours.

You didn't hesitate to kiss back, your heart was nearly beating you of your chest while butterflies erupted in your stomach.

"You're a nice guy yourself, Rick."

_________________________________________

I'm so sorry anon for keeping this request in my inbox for what seems like a year 💀

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Spencer POV Fic Recs [SFW]

Hey friends! Someone requested recommendations for SFW fics from Spencer Reid’s POV. I’ve collected all the fics me and the lovely people of my Discord could find. I hope this helps!

GN!Reader Fluff

Spoonful of Sugar by @reidgraygubler: Spencer stays home from work to take care of his partner, who’s sick with the flu.

Kiss Them, Or Keep Them by @/reidgraygubler: Spencer loses his best friend, but has a secret gift to bring them back.

GN!Reader Angst

Better Off Without Me by @sassymoon: This is the end of a relationship that was the best thing he ever had, and it’s time to say goodbye.

Week From Hell by @/reidgraygubler: Spencer has one hell of a week after he has nightmares and a close call on a case.

Fem!Reader Fluff

Java Jive by me: Spencer and Emily take a break at the local coffee shop and she makes an understandable mistake about barista Reader and Spencer’s relationship.

Pumpkin by me: Spencer can’t handle how cute Reader’s southern accent is.

Serendipitous by me: Spencer’s pretty sure Penelope mixed up his blind date.

Prickly Pear by me: Reader tries to hide her body hair from Spencer. It doesn’t end well.

Not Your Backup by me: Spencer!POV. Following JJ’s confession, Spencer admits she’s more like a sister to him. Spencer and JJ argue about JJ’s unwarranted jealousy of his girlfriend.

Impromptu 3AM Meeting by @andiebeaword: Spencer learns the woman he’s falling for has a teenage daughter.

Side by Side by @foxy-eva: Spencer is mesmerized by Reader on their first date and is surprised that she apparently feels the same way about him.

Different Dialects by me: Autistic!Reader. Spencer is trying to tell Reader he likes her, but it feels like they speak entirely different languages.

Funny Thing Fate by me: Autistic!Reader is tipsy and lost in D.C. when she spots a man she thinks might be able to help.

Porcelain by me: Autistic!Reader has a meltdown in the cafe. Luckily, there is a Dr. Reid nearby.

Baggage Claim by me: Autistic!Reader is having a hard time at the airport.

Act Your Age by me: Platonic. Reader was recently released from being held hostage for several years, and for whatever reason, she’s taken a liking to Spencer.

You are My Destiny by @/reidgraygubler: Spencer meets a girl at a club. She convinces Spencer to dance with her.

Look at My Son by @/reidgraygubler: Spencer has a heart to heart with his newborn son while his wife sleeps.

Buttercup Bakery by @/reidgraygubler: Spencer meets the woman of his dreams at JJ and Will’s wedding, but misses the chance to get her number.

Lonely Moonlight by @/reidgraygubler: Spencer left his partner and ends up regretting it.

Fem!Reader Angst

Rib Cage by me: Spencer realizes Reader is the one, but it might be too late. He has to find her.

Forbidden Fruit by me: When Professor Reid falls in love with a student, he learns why Adam choked on the Forbidden Fruit.

Passing in the Night by me: Spencer learns about Reader’s feelings too late and loses his own battle as a result.

I Won By Loving You by @sassymoon: Reader is terminally ill and is saying goodbye to her loved one.

If I Could See Me Now by @andiebeaword: Spencer hits his head. Next thing he knows, he’s talking to himself … from 15 years ago.

Handle with Care by @foxy-eva: Spencer tries to be there for his wife after a traumatic experience.

Partial POV

Defining Family by me: [Fem, fluff] Spencer finds out he’s a dad… to a twelve year old girl. Your twelve year old girl, who just broke into the FBI.

Dead Air by me: [Fem, fluff] Professor Reid is hesitant to be a guest on his old student’s true crime video series, but is surprised to find it’s not so bad.

Moonlight by me: [Fem, Angst] Spencer tells Reader’s boyfriend how she really feels.

Sleepless in Quantico by @/andiebeaword: [Fem, fluff] Spencer is a widower. His son wants him to be happy. Spencer’s son and his therapist conspire to get him on a radio show to talk through his grief. Reader is one of the listeners. 

A Lettered Confession by @/andiebeaword: [Fem, Angst] Spencer is in love with Reader. He confesses his feelings through a letter.

Everything I Want and More by @/andiebeaword: [Fem, Angst] Spencer believes that Reader is head over heels for another guy. He has no idea the guy she’s in love with is actually him.

No Expectations by @/andiebeaword: Reader is in love with Reid. He’s fallen for a woman named Maeve. While trying to save her, Reader makes a choice.

Wanna See Something Beautiful? by @/andiebeaword: [Fem, Angst] Spencer has been in prison for months now. After he chose to take her name off the visitor’s log, Reader decides to start writing Spencer letters. Eventually, he writes her back.

Wish I Could Take it All Back by @/andiebeaword: [Fem, Angst] Spencer gets his usual coffee, only to follow the girl to an NA meeting

[cricket-reader]

Nothing to Forgive

Masterlist | A03 | Wattpad | Recommendations | Inbox | Taglist

Summary: you’re Tony Stark’s child and you had been kidnapped. The team finds you and brings you home.

Warnings: language, captivity, suicidal thoughts, fainting

Word Count: 790

Prompt: "It's no use." | Explosion | Fainting | Trembling

A/N: Day 12 of June of Doom by @juneofdoom

You couldn’t tell how long you had been there. You didn’t know what day it was or even what day you had been captured. The days continued to blur as time passed.

When you had first been captured, you were foolish enough to believe that there was an escape. That there was a light at the end of the dreadful, dark tunnel. You recently came to the conclusion that all hope was false. Hope was futile in a place like this.

Each time the door opened, your body trembled with the knowledge of what that creaking door meant. It meant pain. And each time the door opened after, you were left on the floor usually bloody and bruised.

Lying on the floor with aching limbs, you often wondered when death would befall you.

You woke up to a loud bang. The ground and walls shook. You wondered if this was the end. Trying to get up, you noticed that you could barely hold your own weight. You were trembling with how weak you were. Your body ached and your skull was pounding. Maybe this was really the end. The door burst open and your body tensed. Surely they wouldn’t beat you more whilst there were explosions happening everywhere above ground.

A man in a funny outfit came rushing in. His eyes widened upon seeing you.

“Team, I found ’em,” he said. The ground shook again and the man cursed under his breath. “We’ve gotta get you outta here before the entire building collapses.”

“It’s no use,” you muttered, completely devoid of all hope. Just who was this man and why was he so delusional? There was no escape other than death. With the explosions happening above, you hoped with all your being that the building would collapse on top of you. Screw anything and everything else.

“C’mon we’ve gotta go!”

You groaned as he helped you up. You were in too much pain to escape. The sweet release of death was so close, and you didn’t want to escape. For however long you had been trapped here, you ached for death’s touch. And now that it was there, you didn’t want to let it go.

On shaking legs you stood, the only thing holding you up was the man who was adamant about getting you to safety when all you wanted was to succumb to the dark hold of death.

“Can I carry you?”

“No, ‘m fine,” you muttered. You weren’t fine. Not by a long shot. But you didn’t want his hands on you anymore. Maybe he’d leave without you if you went too slow. Maybe he’d realise that you were a lost cause.

He frowned, but he did let go of you. He backed up a little, watching you like a hawk. His eyes didn’t leave you as you stumbled to the door.

Your vision faded to black before you made it out the door. You hoped this was what it felt like to finally be in death’s arms.

When you woke up, you were greeted by a sterile white room. It was worlds apart from the cell you were being kept in. You weren’t sure whether you should be relieved or not. Sure you were finally out. But what was the point? Your family was long gone; your captors told you themselves. No one would take you in and you’d probably end up homeless and in debt.

You heard your name and turned to see a familiar face. You had to be hallucinating. He was dead. He was supposed to be dead. They told you he was dead.

But there he was, his unforgettable goatee, eye bags, wrinkled suit and all. His hair was a bit overgrown as was his beard. He looked so tired. It was as if an invisible weight was holding him down. You’d never seen him look so defeated.

“I missed you so much, baby,” he all but sobbed. Your dad was there. Tony Stark was alive and… well you wished you could say he was well, but his entire demeanour spoke volumes.

“You…” you coughed, throat unbearably dry. “You’re alive?”

You waited for the rug to be pulled from underneath you. For this to all turn out to be one sick dream or hallucination. But he grabbed your hand and held it tight. “I’m here, honey, I’m okay, you’re here, you’re safe,” he muttered over and over again as if trying to convince himself. He’d never forgive himself for letting you get snatched. He was supposed to be a hero. He was supposed to protect. Yet he failed to protect one of the most important people in his life.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, please forgive me.”

“There’s nothing to forgive.”

[yourtouchismidas]

gigi telling matty abt her first crush lol

I think Gigi is still quite little when this happens. Maybe around nine or ten. She is walking with Matty, in the park maybe, after they've got to get hot chocolate and she still has the remnants of a chocolatey moustache she hasn't quite wiped off. She's still a kid, arm full of bead bracelets and summer dress and mary janes on, but Matty has noticed she has become quiet recently, more introspective, he catches her staring out the window sometimes when it is raining. She has asked loads of questions about places he has been in the world and asked to see pictures, trying to imagine lives outside of her own bubble. She has a diary and when Matty picked it up one time, just to move it, she screamed at him to put it down and then he teased her mercilessly about all her secrets and plans to do crimes. Usually she played along with jokes like this, teasing her Dad back, but this time she just quietly took the diary upstairs.

"What you thinking about Gi?" Matty says, as they walk along and he notices Gigi kicking a stone, looking down. She nearly walked into someone earlier, lost in her own world.

"Nothing," she says. They carry on walking. Matty watches a couple walk by, holding hands, staring at each other like there is no one else in the world. He thinks of you.

"Dad?" Gigi says.

"Yeah darling," he says.

"What does it feel like to be in love? Like, what makes someone fall in love with someone?"

Matty sighs, and then laughs, "Fucking hell Gigi, that's a big one!"

Gigi doesn't crack a smile. "Forget about it," she says.

"No no," Matty says quickly, "It's just hard to answer that's all. It feels different for everyone I think. Or. I don't know. It's one of those things that's kind of hard to put into words."

"Ah," Gigi says, "But you write about it all the time?"

He chuckles again, "Yeah, but that doesn't mean I understand it. I don't think anyone does."

Gigi kicks her stone and grumbles, "Helpful, Matty."

"Is this about me and Mum?" he says. He's always wondered how Gigi sees you and him. He knows she hears you both fighting. He knows she hears you both talking exasperated on the phone above her head, about each other. He knows she sees the way you cling to each other at the doorstep before he leaves for tour. He knows she has seen him put his hand on your back and kiss you on the telly at awards shows, seen him thank you over and over in speeches. He knows she has heard you talking to each other in bed, hushed tones, like a secret club, two in the morning, before creeping in to fall asleep between you both.

"No," she says "It's about me."

"Oh?" Matty says. He grins. "Are you in love?"

Gigi stops and leans over the railings of the duck pond, watching a couple of them drift around. She pushes her hair out her face and then looks at him dead on.

"I might be," she says, seriously.

"Who is it?"

"I don't want to say," Gigi says.

"Okay," he says, "Tell me what it feels like?"

"It feels like... like bubbles in my chest. And like when you're embarrassed. But this time I don't know why because I haven't done anything embarrassing."

Matty looks in awe at his daughter. He knows he goes on about how smart she is and how special a bit too much, but how can he not when she comes out with stuff like this.

"Hmmm," Matty says, "That sounds like a serious case of love, honestly."

He winks at her.

"Really?"

"Oh baby, don't look so worried. It's okay. It happens to everyone. Eventually. There is also something called a crush, have you heard of that?"

"Yeah, but what's the difference?"

"Well love is like someone you know very well. You see all the bad parts about them but it doesn't effect how much you still want them in your life. A crush is more like, you could maybe be in love with them one day, but you still don't really know enough about them to know. But you want to find out?" He shakes his head. He's not really explaining it well.

"I get it," she says, a little more brightly.

"Does that... I don't know, does that help?"

"Yeah, it does actually. I think it's just a crush."

"Almost definitely."

"Great," Gigi says, "Thank god. Those go away right?"

"Almost all the time. One way or another."

"Cool," Gigi says. She swings back off the railing and skips off. "Wanna go on the swings?"

He follows her, as she runs off, and he runs to catch up. He realises, at the same time, he will probably be trying to catch up with her, his whole life.

[lonelychicago]

temptation tuesday! 🪐

i have a few ideas going brrrr in my brain and so im dumping them all here!!!

sooo that time capsule/hs au fic where it's almost the end of the summer?? and buck and eddie are about to start college. they used to be beat friends but kinda grew apart when hs began, but they buried this time capsule on buck's backyard when they were ten to open on buck's 18th bday. he does it alone and find that one of the notes/wishes for the future eddie left there was 'i wish evan was in love with me' and idk buck is shocked but he goes to eddie and things happen???

i had a weird kinda sad dream where like, imagine s5 eddie breakdown era and you know how he tries to call some of the soldiers he saved when the helicopter went down??? and they're all dead??? turns out buck was one of them and he's not dead. eddie calls him and he answers and they're both in a really dark place and yeah idk. (blame @monsterrae1 for this one)

bakery owner buck! who makes cookies for dogs and takes them to rescue vet clinics and stuff and vet eddie! (idk what im gonna do with this but also blame @monsterrae1 )

buck and eddie meet in peru. buck is a bartender and eddie is just on a vacation with his cousins before college?? idk. they have a party on the beach and it's late and there's a bonfire, buck takes his guitar and sings some songs and it's all very summer-y love fling vibes. they have sex on the beach?? idk

fake/pretend relationship between musician/famous buck and bodyguard eddie bc why not. he needs some good press??? and hia fans have been shipping him with eddie since he started working as a bodyguard for him so his pr team is like you're dating him!!! and there's a stalker somewhere in this fic too if i ever write it idk. lots of angst and drama ig.

buck and eddie recently started dating when eddie has to go to texas??? chris and buck stay in L.A, chris gets appendicitis and it geta really bad and he has to be rushed to the hospital for emergency surgery??? buck is freaking out and he thinks eddie will break up with him bc he had to take care of chris!!!! and he failed!!!! and the kid almost dies!!!! (eddie turns out is just thankful buck was there and buck comes to the realization oh, they really are family and he is chris' second dad idk)

figure skater buck! and hockey player eddie! (maybe buck recently lost his figure skater partner and he's never skated solo and eddie's team is missing a guy so buck is like, i could try out hockey?? why not??? i would love to be part of a team!! and eddie is so annoyed and whatever idk i haven't thought it through)

soulmates au where you realize who's your soulmate when you die. (buck dies and eddie brings him back with cpr)

tagging some ppl (no pressure): @monsterrae1 @cowboy-buddie @buddierights @alyxmastershipper @thespermdonorstorylineisstupid @honestlydarkprincess @911onabc @buck-coded @the-likesofus @bigfootsmom @spotsandsocks @elvensorceress @dorkydiaz @maygrantgf @dollhousejee @prettyboybuckley @rogerzsteven @hippolotamus @shortsighted-owl @messyhairdiaz @scarcrossedbuck @comaboybuck @loveyourownsmiilee @lovebuck and anyone else who wants to do it!

[lily292]

So I love time travel fics and all the ones I can find are ones where the time travelers are Porsche or Kinn or both (which makes sense since they’re the main characters) or Vegas (which also makes sense since he’s the main instigator) or Kim (which makes sense if your main focus is on Kimchay or you want to play up Kimlock Holmes).

But (this has been floating in my head since I read a Kinn and Porsche time traveler fic) what if it was actually Pete and Vegas?

Let’s have VegasPete years post canon get hit by a Truck. They wake up years in the past, let’s say’s pre canon. Probably they spend the first few days completely lost and confused. For Vegas, it would probably only take the first time Kan hits him for him to snap out of it. He starts plotting murder.

This Vegas is not Vegas of this time. This Vegas has years of actual love and validation from Pete. He’s learned that if his dad ever did care about him, it was only a fraction of how much Pete loved him. Let’s be realistic: Vegas removed from his abusive environment and years to recover from the abuse damage to his mental health and self esteem has accepted that everything his dad blamed him for wasn’t his fault and probably resents him. Even if he still loves him to some extent, once he realizes Kan would not allow him to be with Pete and would actually be a burden to wooing him, well Pete or his dad I think ultimately would come down to no contest.

Vegas is cunning. He’s smart enough to realize he can’t outright murder his father. He plans to make it look like an accident: probably some sort of planned car malfunction, maybe some sort of slow acting poison so he dies in his sleep. Once Kan’s dead, he can focus on Macau and Pete.

Meanwhile, Pete woke up at the same time. It’s been years since he played bodyguard for the Main Family and he’s scrambling to try to remember to act certain ways. He has no idea if it was time travel or a dream and he calls in sick and cries once he realizes either way he doesn’t have Vegas. Tankhun absolutely takes pity and tries to cheer him up the first time Pete comes down with red rimmed eyes and a sniffly nose. Pete continues in a daze until Porsche is recruited.

Once Porsche arrives, Pete realizes that this is it: either he’s traveled through time and reliving things or it was prophetic and he’ll end up with Vegas eventually (not looking forward to the torture but he can endure if he’ll have Vegas). He cheers up. (Tankhun hates Porsche for Elizabeth and Sebastian but since he brought back happy Pete, he’ll forgive him this time)

The time comes for the first time the Minor Family visits since Porsche arrived. It takes very little time for Vegas to realize Pete is staring at him longingly. It takes very little time for Pete to realize Vegas is actually looking at him instead of through him the way he did for so many years before the safehouse. Both independently come to the same conclusion.

It’s Pete who remembers first. His sudden shock and mad dash leaves the others in confusion. Tankhun decides that Pete might have recovered recently but he’s still delicate and should be allowed a little more leeway and decides to overlook it. Arm and Pol are getting increasingly more worried about Pete but resolve to question him later.

Vegas remembers when Macau stumbles in bleeding with Porsche on his heels. It plays out exactly the same way it did in the past. He takes Macau out for treatment and almost runs into Pete who looks absolutely horrified. Macau has no idea why his brother is suddenly grabbing this random bodyguard and dragging him along.

Once he hands Macau over for treatment, Vegas only has eyes for Pete who he still hasn’t let go of. He doesn’t know what to say. He’s pretty sure it’s his Pete but what does he say? Pete has had enough of staring at Vegas’ pretty face and absolutely grabs him and devours his mouth.

Macau is taken for first aid. He comes back to Vegas pressing the bodyguard against the wall, the two of them enthusiastically making out. There is a lot of groping and filthy sounds. He is absolutely traumatized. It’s his strangled noises that have the two jumping apart. Macau doesn’t want to know. He walks out and decides he’s going to forget this ever happened. Vegas has seduced a lot of bodyguards or anyone affiliated with Kinn what’s one more anyway.

Anyway, Vegas absolutely murders his dad first opportunity. Unlike in canon, Korn has no excuse not to make Vegas head of the Minor Family and he can’t not appoint him without losing that piece on the chessboard. Vegas takes this promotion and does…absolutely nothing.

Korn is baffled and unable to process that his chess board is not functioning the way it should. Kinn has no idea what’s happening. The Minor Family is maintaining its place without trying to expand because Vegas is too busy being at the Main Family Compound trying to woo Pete. His rivalry with Kinn becomes nonexistent because now he’s too busy fighting with Tankhun for Pete. He’s absolutely determined that this time, he’ll do better by Pete.

Pete meanwhile thinks this whole thing is ridiculous. He’s absolutely ready to elope and marry Vegas right now and Vegas’ insistence that they actually properly date this time is driving him nuts. (No Porsche he will not admit that all the pretty things Vegas keeps gifting him are sweet shut up)

Pol has no idea what to think of this but comes to accept it once he mentally connects them to Romeo and Juliet and sees how sweet Vegas is to Pete. Arm is way over this and would like Vegas to stop accosting Pete randomly to make out and grope him, this is not the activity he’s monitoring the security cameras for. Porsche meanwhile thinks they’re cute and is determined that any guy that makes his new best friend so happy and dreamy is alright. He’s down to listen to Pete moon over whatever latest sweet thing Vegas has done for him.

Macau has no idea what to do about this, Vegas has never actually introduced him to a significant other before but he’s realized Pete’s gonna stick around and he better get used to it (P’Pete isn’t bad he’s willing to admit and he very obviously loves Vegas so he’ll get used to it)

Kim has shelved his investigation into Chay and Porsche because Vegas is a bigger concern. What this does to Kimchay I have no idea.

Kinn is lost but without Vegas’ interference there is a lot less drama involved in his relationship with Porsche. Does Porsche still get the week off without the drugging at the auction? Do the two still get together when lost in the forest or do they dance around each other forever? Who knows

Tankhun hates Vegas to new heights for daring to try to steal his Pete but sometimes he can see Pete so happy and content to be held by Vegas and finds it hard not to let him go.

Korn meanwhile is going mad. Kan has suddenly been knocked off the chessboard. He could handle that. But now, Vegas has no interest in competition. Competition is meant to make Kinn stronger what is he supposed to do now? (I hope he has a stroke and dies of stress)

Meanwhile Vegas and Pete absolutely do not care and live their best domestic happily married lives with Macau.

(I can see why no one writes Vegas and Pete as time travelers: it would derail the entire plot because their utter obsession with each other means they would not care at all about the entirety of canon and just fall together immediately)

[daisyishedwig]

Mr. Smythe - A Seblaine Mrs. Winterbourne AU

A/N: I was hoping to have more of this written in time for today, but it's going to be a lot larger of a project, and I want to do it well. So instead, here's a little prologue for today, and hopefully I'll be able to actually start posting the full story sometime next year.

For Day 5 of 10 Days of Seblaine: Parents AU @seblaineworld

Summary: Blaine Anderson boards a train to Boston not entirely sure what he’s going to do once he gets there. All he knows is that he has less than a thousand dollars in his bank account, his two-month-old nephew in a carrier, and the sound of his father’s voice telling him not to come home. On the train, he meets Barry and Devon Smythe, a newlywed couple returning to the States with their recently adopted child to meet Barry’s family for the first time. But when the train crashes and Blaine awakes in the hospital to find out that he and his nephew have been mistaken for Devon Smythe and his child, he gets sucked into a whirlwind of lies trying to do what’s best by the child he doesn’t have the money to raise and Barry’s grieving family. But Barry’s twin brother, Sebastian, doesn’t trust that Blaine is really who he says he is, he just doesn’t know how to prove it.

Blaine’s brother was dead.

And Blaine didn’t cry.

Blaine didn’t cry when he got the phone call. He didn’t cry when he boarded the plane or when he got off. He didn’t cry at the funeral or at the moment a squirming infant he’d never met was placed in his arms for the first time. 

He didn’t know why.

If he felt numb, he’d understand it. But he didn’t. His heart was crushed by grief so much he didn’t know how it was still pumping. He wanted to scream at the world and curse at the sky and beg the god he didn’t believe in to just bring his brother back. He wanted to hold the baby so tight they merged into one person. 

The baby didn’t know what he’d lost. He was far too young to understand the pain Blaine was feeling. And all Blaine wanted to do was give him some of his pain so he could just fucking breathe. 

But he didn’t cry.

And he didn’t hold the baby tight enough to break it. 

He just sat resolutely, held his nephew with the most ridiculous name only Cooper could have come up with, and filled out the custody paperwork.

And then Blaine Anderson was a father. A single one at that.

Technically he was just an uncle with legal guardianship over his nephew. But that just sounded like a fancy way of saying 21 and a broke dad. 

He checked his bank account again. The amount hadn’t changed in the last ten minutes. 

$1,257.36.

Not the worst number to see. But not the best when you were trapped in New York City with a baby and no home to return to. 

“I’m not taking care of another one of your brother’s mistakes. Leave the kid in New York or don’t come home.”

Blaine had been tempted to do that. He didn’t have the money to raise a kid. Nor was he sure he had the temperament for it. And without his father’s assistance? There was no way he could feasibly keep Cooper’s child. 

But then he’d held him. And he’d opened his eyes. And they were Cooper’s. 

He couldn’t let go of the only thing he had left of his brother. This baby needed him and he needed this baby. So fuck his father, he was going to keep it. 

His nephew cooed in the baby carrier beside him. He lifted his hand to rest it on the baby’s stomach and he quieted. “Well, Cookie,” he said, “your father has left us with a real mess. And this time… I’m not sure I can fix it for him. 

“For you. 

“For us.”

[angellesword]

against popular opinion, i don't feel that soobin should not not go to JK. At the end of the day, he is still is. He may be a bad business man, or a bad best friend, but he didn't seem that bad of a dad in chapter 11. Let's not forget that the old JK isn't completely dead. He is very much alive; just hidden under layers of regret, guilt, remorse and of course, never ending debt. All he needs is a trigger to break out. It doesn't intentionally mean getting together with OC. It could even start with getting a good paying job and some therapy. He could pretty much build on top of that.

That said, Soobin doesn't have to leave OC either. They(or she? not quite sure) grew him up so they have all the right too. So all in all, I feel they should co-parent him with Jungkook, and involve Jangmin if needed.

Yet, I do not believe my opinion to be worth agreeing with. It is extremely controversial so I understand if you don't but know that I respect yours too <3

In the end, I feel there are still many storylines yet to unfold. Secrets of the past, confusion of the present and fears of the future. All we can do is wait :))

PS: I LOVE YOUUUUUUUUUU <333333 I NOTICED YOU'VE BEEN POSTING MORE OFTEN SO THANK YOU FOR THAT BUT DON'T FORGET TO TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF TOO. SIT DOWN, HAVE SOME WATER AND TAKE IT SLOW :33

Ps: this is my first ask ever and I'm so excited lyk eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee 😁

THIS.IS.THE.MOST.ON.POINT take on JK’s character. i said before that this is a soukoku fanfic where JK is originally Dazai Osamu of bsd (and it just makes sense that his personality is like this without me having to explain it. [[the contrast in comments i receive regarding baggage!jk and baggage!dazai are glaring. in baggage!jk i often get ask about you guys being unhappy with JK (and i get it. he’s frustrating) but i do believe his reactions are natural considering what he went through (not the pseudo-cheating/cheating tho)

meanwhile, the comments i get about baggage!dazai are mostly them saying they understand and that he is bound to react like that because he is wired like that canonically.

JK (dazai) is enigmatic and is hiding his true emotions under many many layers of his bandages. <<yes in bsd world, the canon dazai osamu wears bandages all over his body on a daily basis>> and whenever i write a chapter, i have to delete some scenes when i am converting it into a JJK one, so i guess this is on me. (in my defense, the deleted scenes are only fit to dazai’s personality>> but the JK i am striving to show in baggage!jk is someone who has given up about his previous roles in life after multiple failures: being a friend, a lover, and a businessman. ((one cannot force that this shouldn’t happen. we all have different ways to cope with failures and it just happens that JK’s reaction is to stop trying. is this right? perhaps, perhaps not. we cannot give one correct answer especially if we didn’t get to experience what he went through))

but in the latest chapters, we see him trying to reclaim what he lost before. (baby steps that some people might find boring.) we have to know that JK lost so many things, but being a father is not something he lost—it’s something he only discovered recently. (let’s see how he’d do and we can judge after)

i’ve some time this week, so i am racking my brains to see how i can finally reveal what happened to JK in the past and how to make the scenes unfold as naturally as possible. :)

finally, thank you for this ask and telling me your opinion. i really love interacting with you guys like this. makes me all giddy and warm inside heheh love you dear anon ❤️

[ncisladaily]

Jeff Kober has thrived on playing the baddie for much of his long career. The prolific actor has almost 150 credits to his name with stops on Buffy the Vampire Slayer, The X Files, Walker, Texas Ranger, The Walking Dead, New Girl, and NCIS: Los Angeles to name a few. Then there are more regular roles like Jacob Hale Jr. on Sons of Anarchy, Sgt. Dodger Winslow on China Beach, and most recently, on General Hospital where he won an Emmy for his portrayal of shady Cyrus Renault.

Next up is the pool shark thriller Break, where he takes on the role of pool hall hustler “The Hand” Jimmy. In the film, he looks to stand in the way of Eli (Daniel Weiss), the hotshot son of a former rival, from honoring his legendary dad and former rival’s legacy. Here the veteran actor talks about the project and reminisces about some of his favorite parts.

After all this time, how is it being that go-to bad guy? 

Jeff Kober: I don’t know. It is interesting, but I enjoy working. What I’m trying to do these days is humanize everyone. Even if they’re not terribly nice people based on the story being told. They can’t be all bad. What’s human about that? That’s fascinating. So you’re not ever acting. You’ve built some type of world you’re living through. As a natural result of your belief system, this is what happens.

You’re the bad guy in Break. What stands out about Jimmy to you? 

What I liked about him was it was such a specific world. So foreign to anything I’ve experienced, except bits here and there. I was in a carnival for a while as a younger man and that character would have fit well in the carnival. Someone lost a wallet on a ride. The carny who ran that ride and the carny who ran the ride next to it argued not about who got to turn in the wallet back to the person who lost it but who got the money that was in it. I didn’t understand those kind of people then. Now I kind of do to find my way in and what it would take for me to be like that. This is what made the role so fascinating to me.

How much of a pool player were you beforehand? 

I played a lot of pool in bars as a younger man. I once was beaten I think 17 times in a row by Megan Branman, a casting director in Hollywood. So I was a moderately okay pool player. I enjoy the sport, but I am never able to play even remotely like in the movie. I got an evening of lessons. This guy just corrected a couple of things for me and suddenly a whole new world opened up for me. That was amazing.

What did you make of the environment the film takes place, gritty Detroit? 

We’re seeing it everywhere today. People are frightened of so many different things. They are struggling to behave in a way with respect to themselves. They may be following the fear and doing things they don’t respect. Like when Eli decides to bet all the money he was saving for his sister’s education. That’s not out of a sense of love and compassion and wanting to do the right thing. That’s out of the terror of I can’t be shown up like this. I can’t have my ego smashed like this. We all have those challenges every day. I just look at it as is this the ego working here or the truth working here and are they aware there is a difference? Those are the questions that occur to me.

How was it sharing the screen with Darren Weiss as Eli? 

With Darren, he stepped up and met me. We really play in that area of wanting to beat each other in the script. I’m really proud of what he did in this.

It has been more than 35 years since China Beach hit the airwaves. How do you look back on the show today?

I know it didn’t come out to watch easily over the years when so many others came out because of the music rights that were so spread out. It was impossible to get permission from that many music companies and have it make sense to make it commercially available. I love the fact people are still moved by it. Everyone was trying to do the best they could in order to honor the women and men we were representing. That’s really special when you get to do a job like that.

A lot of times shows will get canceled without getting a formal goodbye, but China Beach was lucky enough to have one. A touching one at that. 

I’m grateful we did in the end show these characters accelerated forward and what it was like to visit the Vietnam Veterans Memorial wall in Washington D.C. This was very special, especially for me who have been around many Vietnam veterans. I still have Vietnam veteran friends in my life and see what they had and lost and the rebuilding process that had to occur. I really feel that China Beach was a part of opening up the consciousness of the U.S. Like, “Hey something happened here, and we’ve been ignoring it. Wake up.”

These days a lot of viewers know you from the soap opera world on General Hospital. How is it to step in and out of Port Charles as Cyrus? A role that won you a Daytime Emmy Award. 

It’s more like being a sprinter than a distance runner. You have to be ready to go. You have to be ready to jump in any direction because you don’t know who you’re going to be from one week to the next until you look at a script. You never get to see where that script fits into the larger fabric of the story they’re telling. It’s a hoot because it’s jumping into the unknown.

Cyrus has been through a lot. What do you make of his evolution? Where do you see this character going in the future on the show? 

It started out as a short gig. Whatever happened, they decided to keep me on a little longer. So they made me the mysterious half-brother of Genie Francis’ character [Laura Spencer]. They wrote this evil criminal as someone who is broken and needs his mother’s love. I was like, “How do you play that? I guess we’ll find out.” It was so much fun to do that. Then they sent him away to prison and he found Jesus, or did he? For me, it’s always about finding what’s the most interesting and grounded and most passionate perspective this character can have in a given time. They keep you guessing on that show. What he has come around to now, and being holier than now. The last time I saw him he was saying, “I got to work on myself before I tell anyone else how to do this.” Don’t you wish more people in the world realized that?

You’ve been in the shoes of a lot of characters. What are some of your favorites? For me, The Claimers leader on The Walking Dead has to be included. 

Joe on The Walking Dead was fantastic because it was so rich. The people I worked with were also just fantastic. I would have done anything on that show for as long as they wanted me to.

What a way Joe went though. 

It was the best death in the show up to that point I think. The last line for him was just great, “What the hell are you gonna do now sport?” Just amazing. I loved China Beach, too. The people, we’re brothers and sisters. We left a mark on all of our lives. A lot of us were really beginning our careers when we did that. It holds a place that will never be touched by anything else. I’ve had really exciting experiences. I had a run on NCIS: Los Angeles. I got to work intimately with Linda Hunt. That was otherworldly. There was an intimacy with her and strength in her work. She is like a national treasure. I can always tell how wonderful someone’s talent is when you just get in their face. They go, “Oh, someone is here.” Then they just jump in themselves. They did this.

Jeff Kober and Linda Hunt (Henrietta “Hetty” Lange) in NCIS: Los Angeles (Bill Inoshita/CBS Broadcasting, Inc.)

One of my favorite turns for you was also when you were on New Girl as this curmudgeon of a landlord. During the rewatch podcast “Welcome to Our Show” the cast revealed a few years ago that Bruce Willis was almost cast as Remy. You made it your own though. 

It was a hoot. I actually did a movie with Jake Johnson that is on Hulu now called Self Reliance. He wrote this character with me in mind. Then right around Christmas, I did his podcast where they give advice for people on really stupid things. We were reminiscing about the characters almost doing this threesome. I was in my underwear and cowboy boots. We shot the scene many times, and every time I would come up with a different yoga pose or something I’d be doing when they came to me like reading a book or spraying aftershave in my private areas. They give you free rein to be crazy. That was a gas.

[astoroidea]

Personal rant again (im feeling feelings a lot recently)

Happy trans day of visibility folks,

I myself am a trans man and am still in the closet. Been in there a good bit now because I was rather sheltered as a kid so I didn't even know I had a word for me until I was 12 and met other kids in high school who were queer and knew the words for it. As a kid, seeing my parents as gods, you're supposed to tell your mum everything right? So when I told my mum and dad i was bisexual (found later to be incorrect, I'm aroace, I do like everyone equally, not at all!), mum's support and love was expected, but dad's "That means you still like guys right?" crushed me. I told them a good while after I found the words for myself, so by that point I had learnt about homophobia from my nonna and transphobia from the other kids at school. So then I shut my folks out. If that was going to be the reaction to the smaller part of my identity, I won't be letting them see all of me. Them getting an idea of who I'm going to date is very different from learning that I am a fundamentally different person than they thought they were raising. The idea I am safer in the closet has been enforced steadily throughout the years, openly transphobic comments about strangers they see on the street, watching a news story that happened to have a trans woman as part of the street interview that they immediately started calling "he" despite never once meeting her, my mother making friends with the worst creature to call herself a person I've ever met. But recently, they've been getting a bit better. My partner who is also a trans guy, who they've known pre social transition, while they do slip up at times, they gender him correctly mostly and for the past 4 years since I got them to use his correct name, they haven't used his dead name ever since. I managed to get dad to stop trying to ask my queer friend's birth genders. I even got them to sit down and have a constructive conversation about their bigotry in other aspects and they seemed to actually listen and even apologised. I've been planning to come out to them for a while now since I'm an adult and I need to find a way to put this behind us. But again today, I am reminded how much who I am is reviled. One of my uncles loves to "stir the pot" and made a fun little joke (/s) about pronouns and while my older cousins tried to shut it down, he still made it. The man who is my godfather. The amount of stress I am constantly under and have been for years. The trying to figure out if I can tell someone my real name when I meet them or do I have to worry it will get back to my parents? I do have plans in place, people I can go to, a solid enough income that I won't go hungry anytime soon or not being able to sleep somewhere. But I'm not sure if them not hating me will be worse. Ive lost a lot of time to the fear I'd be kicked out of home as a child with no money and no one to help me. But if I gear up to tell them and set up all my nets to catch me and none of it was even necessary? I'd just be disappointed in myself for wasting so much of my life.

[wallcrawld]

REPOST & LIST 6 SONGS THAT INSPIRE YOU TO WRITE YOUR MUSE.

ㅤㅤKEEP THE RAIN by searows ----- i don't know what steps to take / i do the easy ones until it helps / little acts of conversation / i don't think i really like myself / am i comfortable in silence? / or is it eating me alive? / nothing's ever really quiet / when you need distraction to survive

ㅤㅤFUNERAL by phoebe bridgers ----- i'm singin' at a funeral tomorrow / for a kid a year older than me / and I've been talkin' to his dad / it makes me so sad when i think too much about it, i can't breathe / jesus christ, i'm so blue all the time / and that's just how i feel / i have a friend i call when I've bored myself to tears / and we talk until we think we might just kill ourselves / but then we laugh until it disappears

ㅤㅤMARS by sleeping at last ----- we laid our names to rest / along the dotted line / we left our date of birth and our history behind / we were full of life we could barely hold it in / we were amateurs at war, strangers to suffering / we made our families proud but scared at the same time / we promised we'd be safe / another lie from the front lines / our nights have grown so long / now we beg for sound advice / let the brokenness be felt 'til you reach the other side / there is goodness in the heart of every broken man who comes right up to the edge of losing everything he has / now we're young enough to try to build a better life

ㅤㅤPLEASE, PLEASE, LET ME GET WHAT I WANT by the smiths ---good times for a change / see, the luck i've had can make a good man turn bad / so please, please, please / let me, let me, let me / let me get what i want / this time / haven't had a dream in a long time / see, the life i've had / can make a good man bad / so for once in my life / let me get what i want / lord knows, it would be the first time

ㅤㅤBE NICE TO ME by the front bottoms ----- i got boulders on my shoulders / collar bones begin to crack / there is very little left of me and it's never coming back / there are certain things you ask of me / and there are certain things I'll lack / what's it matter anymore ? / if you believe the lies i tell / there's no meaning to the words / but we still sing these songs well / we are running out of time / we are running, we are running / but you're a killer and i'm your best friend / think it's unfair, your situation / i try to write you poems, but the words they don't make sense / the hand tries to grip the pencil, but the fingers are too tense

ㅤㅤFOREST FIRE by brighton ----- when you were young you used to dream about fires / and scream into the night / to find me standing barefoot at your side / i used to whisper it will be alright / and how was i to know i'm not strong / i should have saved you and i hope you know that you're my home / but now i'm lost / now i'm the one left screaming through the night / i'm gonna carry your bones / i'm gonna carry them all / i'm gonna carry you home / i'm gonna bury these bones / i'm gonna write it in stone / that you were my home

BONUS SONG : BLITZKRIEG BOP — THE RAMONES

& 6 QUOTES THAT INSPIRE YOU TO WRITE YOUR MUSE.

⊹ ❝ i offer to you my bones and my veins. that parts that break and spill ❞ — mary kate teske ⊹ ❝ we leave doors open for people who'll never knock again. stubborn human heart. living, for the maybes and what ifs. hoping, until the day it dies ❞ — mollie adler ⊹ ❝ the worst thing in the world can happen, but the next day the sun will come up. you will eat your toast. and you will drink your tea. ❞ — rhian ellis ⊹ ❝ you remember too much, my mother said to me recently. why hold onto all that ? and i said, where do i put down ? ❞ — anne carson ⊹ ❝ the tragic hero is complete. you can call him unhappy (miserable, utterly broken) even before he is dead. for an instant he is something like divine. and then he dies, because there's nothing left to do. ❞ — michael kinnucan ⊹ ❝ and when i turned to face grief, i saw that it was just love in a heavy coat. ❞ — shannon barry

BONUS QUOTES : ❝ we're not just our failures. as much as they hurt, we learn from them. then we go out there and do our best to make up for them — even though we never will. we save people. we save as many as we can to make up for the ones we couldn't. that's all we do. ❞ — the boy himself ):

and of course,

❝ with great power, comes great responsibility. ❞

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