#but my mom knew i was having a hard time choosing which version i wanted more so. early christmas gift aksjhfdskf

[byanyan]

i don't want to talk about it. we're not talking about it.

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

Mine

Luke Castellan x Reader

Requested by: @officiallenalove like imagine the reader is like a daughter of Poseidon and we know he’s not around most of the time and she meets Luke and they like fall in love but she’s never known what healthy love looks like so it’s low key angsty but happy at the same time yk?

Summary: "You are the best thing that's ever been mine"

Warning: crappy parents, angst, self doubt

Word Count: 2k

Masterlist

A/N Sorry this took so long I had a hard time choosing which lyrics/moments I wanted to write

You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter

Godly parents were always deadbeats. It was just a fact of half-blood life. But after spending years thinking I had no father, I was thrilled to have been claimed by Poseidon. It was naïve of me to think that just because he claimed me he’d be a good father just because I knew of his existence. I spent night after night praying to him, looking for some sense of guidance from him but never receiving anything. Eventually I learned not to bother with him or anyone else.

My mom had let me down enough times that I knew it wasn’t just gods that let you down. When she finally told me about my father she told me I’d be moving to a strange place. Not for my safety but because she didn’t want to take care of the daughter of the god that broke her heart. She complained endlessly on the drive over that my father never even bothered to offer her immortality, rather last she heard of him he was falling in love with another woman on Long Island.

She was dead to me after she dumped me at camp with hardly a goodbye. And then my father was dead to me when I begged for his help but received nothing.

~

I was a flight risk, with a fear of fallin' / Wondering why we bother with love, if it never lasts

Most of the other campers felt the same about their godly parents but it seemed like the only one who really understood was Luke.

“I mean, it’s like we’re nothing to them,” Luke ranted to me. We rant to each other a lot. “We’re just byproducts of their mistakes.”

“Gods, I hate men,” I groaned, lying back in the grass of the green. “Are all fathers this shitty?” I asked, looking up at Luke. I squinted into the sun as I peered at him accusingly. He moved his hand to block the sun from my eyes.

“I wouldn’t know from personal experience but I wouldn’t be this shitty,” he smiled cheekily down at me. He moved to lay back too, resting on his elbow. “I’d never abandon you.”

I could feel my chest tighten and I hoped it wasn’t apparent on my face. I just laughed, gently pushing his chest in a playful manner, hoping I was sparing him any embarrassment by making him think I thought he was joking. “You wish. You’d probably leave once the first diaper change comes.” I couldn’t even begin to consider loving him—or anyone—enough to feel abandoned by him. Thanks to my parents I felt more than enough abandonment.

He gave me a forced laugh as I sat up. “Yeah probably. I’d just be the fun dad.”

~

Do you remember, we were sittin' there by the water? / You put your arm around me for the first time

Later that day I found myself sitting on the beach of the Long Island Sound. The ocean was always sort of a sore spot for me because it was just a reminder of my father but it still felt calming. Like I belonged despite my father’s indifference.

As I stared out into the sound, zoning out, I let my mind wander to the conversation I had with Luke. That wasn’t the first time he had tried to hint at his feelings and he was a great guy but I couldn’t trust him. I didn’t have faith that he—or anyone for that matter—wouldn’t just let me down. How could I trust I wouldn’t let him down.

I was interrupted from my thoughts by the man himself. “Hey, can we talk?” he asked, coming to stand next to me. I just wordlessly gestured for him to sit next to me. He complied, taking a few breaths before looking at me. “I’m just gonna come right out and day it: I like you,” he rushed. “You don’t have to like me back or anything but I need to know that you know.”

I stared at him, my mouth agape. I hadn’t expected his boldness. “Um…” I had to take a second to structure my thoughts. “Luke, you’re a great guy. Any girl would be lucky to have you but you don’t want me.”

“Actually, I do I just said it,” he chuckled, trying to release some tension.

I laughed with him. “No, I mean I don’t think I can give you what you want. I’m not the best with feelings and I’m not entirely convinced that you, and everyone else in my life, won’t just leave me when it’s convenient.”

“Hey,” Luke chided gently, throwing an arm over my shoulder to bring me closer, “I meant what I said I'm not gonna abandon you. And if you’re scared, that’s fine, we can take this slow. If you really just don’t want a relationship that’s fine. I’ll still be by your side no matter what.”

Tears pricked my eyes at how thoughtful and caring he was being. Fortunately he couldn’t see them because my head was resting on his shoulder. “Okay,” I agreed, “I want to try taking things slow with you.” His grip on me tightened as he held me a little closer, like he was so excited you just have to squeeze something.

~

Braced myself for the goodbye / 'Cause that's all I've ever known

Things were great for a few months. Every time I began to doubt our relationship, Luke was there to help me. Giving me constant assurances and telling me how much he loved me. So much so that I started to feel like a burden to him. Like I was just a task he had to get through every week.

“Hey,” Luke announced his presence as he entered my cabin, “I haven’t seen you all day, what’s up?” he asked, looking around the cabin.

“J-just a second!” I called from a storage closet. I quickly wiped my tears and steeled myself, willing myself to look normal. Realizing he’d be wondering why I was in the closet, I grabbed a random blanket from one of the shelves. Taking a deep breath, I stepped out of the closet with a smile. “Hey.”

His face immediately dropped. “What’s wrong?”

Curse my puffy eyes. “Nothing,” I answered. He approached me but I just slid past him, dropping the blanket onto my bunk. “Why?”

“Your eyes are all red. What’s wrong?” he asked again. Once again trying to touch me but I just backed away.

“Must be dust or something in the closet,” I tried to dismiss.

His face hardened. “C’mon, Y/N I know something’s wrong. I don’t want you to hide things from me. I want to take care of you.”

At his words the dam broke and all the thoughts and feelings I had been dealing with bubbled over. “I don't want you to have to take care of me!” A look of hurt appeared on his face and my heart ached for him. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate it, I do. I just don’t think it’s fair to you to have to comfort me whenever anything little happens. It’s pathetic,” I spat at myself.

“Hey, no, you’re not pathetic,” Luke assured me.

“You’re not listening to me,” I insisted. “How can you possibly want to be with me when I do nothing but drain you?” I stared at him, waiting for him to realize that I was a leech and leave for his own sake. But instead, he just looked endeared.

“Y/N, you are the best thing that’s ever been mine. I don’t want you to ever think that you’re a burden to me. I love you and I love that I'm the one who brings you comfort. So please, just let me love you.”

My resolve broke and I went to him, letting Luke pull me into his chest. “What did I do to deserve you?” I cried into the warmth of his chest.

“I ask myself the same,” he returned, pressing a kiss to my head.

Masterlist

[chiyeko-kurea]

Miscarriages (tw: vent)

I never really believed in spirits or reading into someone’s mind or anything. I mean, for some people, you can see in their eyes that their soul’s broken but I never believed to be a part of them.

One day, at was at the « microkinesiologist », a doctor my mother insisted to take me to. It sounded like a crappy scam, but my mother is the kind to really believe this sort of stuff and was ready to pay a scammer if it even gave us a tiny hope to relieve my pain. I was lying down on the table, my mother sitting next to me, this woman examining my knees, and I remember already feeling uncomfortable with the contact. She touched my knees, turned to my mom and said a year, i don’t remember which one, and asked what happened that time. My mother froze, and told she had a miscarriage. It was a few years before I was born, and my mother never told me about it, I heard it from my sister when I was young. She didn’t specify to the doctor she actually had several miscarriages all the following years, until I finally came, yet the doctor nodded and said something, again I don’t remember exactly what, but she just somehow knew. And she told my mother, like i wasn’t right there under her fingertips, « you can tell her to let go of that. »

I have no idea how she knew that i felt guilty for all of them, the dead kids before me, and how i feel unworthy of being the one born, and how i sometimes wonder how they were named, and if my parents would have been happier if another kid before me was born instead of me. The twisted, bad-tempered, mean and ill little me.

Maybe one of them would have been a lovely little girl, a ray of sunshine and health, talented in science and naturally destined to be a doctor, and would’ve filled my parents with happiness even in their darkest days.

And never, ever would’ve made them cry like I do.

And instead, here’s me, and I wonder if my parents did the right thing to keep trying to have a second kid, or if i am the living proof that sometimes giving up is better.

Sometimes I feel like I have to live up to them. The fetuses. Which is dumb, because you can never outdo someone who never existed based of what they maybe could have done. Their imaginary successes have literally no limitation inside my mind and no matter how hard I try, I always think « maybe they would have done it better ».

I have to be worthy, worthier than them. And sometimes, the truth is that I am jealous of these dead bloody fetuses.

I absolutely want to be a doctor, but deep down I know that even if I didn’t want to, I’d still choose that path because it makes my parents proud in a way they don’t really want to admit and maybe one of the dead fetuses would’ve become a doctor. In the same way, I don’t really know if I want kids and I’m most definitely sure my body can’t handle it because it can’t even handle itself, but maybe one of the dead fetuses would’ve had kids. And in the same way, I taste food I know I won’t like because my parents want me to and because maybe one of the dead fetuses would’ve always tasted everything. And in the same way, I go drive with my dad even when it fucking scares me, because maybe one of the dead fetuses would’ve always happily say yes to drive when he offers.

I know it’s stupid, it doesn’t matter, I should stop comparing myself to other versions of me that could have been born before and stop competing with them, and at least I get credit for actually surviving and living when these fetuses didn’t, right? But still I feel guilty, because I tried to kill myself several times, and even if I never actually managed to, I fucking tried. And oh, how freaking cruelly ironic would that be, the child who finally lives, ends up dead once again, and they lose it to its own hands. And they just keep losing children.

And my mom wouldn’t be able to bear the guilt and my dad would lose another child he poured his soul into.

And « all your parents want is for you to be happy » but then again, I feel guilty, because I not even am. I can’t even give that to them.

[bandedbulbussnarfblat]

Okay y'all, my smacked ass has had an epiphany tonight about why i like the stupid vampire books so much, even though like, at least a quarter of them are mostly trash. presented in meme format:

anne rice was far from perfect, but when she added all her bible fanfic into the books, the idea that to reach heaven we have to forgive god for his indifference was something that shook 11 year old me.

and like, anne clearly had some religious issues she was working through when she wrote memnoch. eleven year old me could see that, and she was only 11. and baby me got it; bc baby me was an atheist who was trying very, very hard not to be one (bc my mom forced me to go to church as a kid, and i was afraid she wouldn't love me anymore if she knew) but i was not feeling the capital-G god.

(she does still love me, btw. baby me was just as neurotic as adult me)

I was like why create a tree adam and eve couldn't from in the first place? like that was unnecessary. why play mind games like that? and asking abraham to sacrifice his son? what for? to prove what? that you're a dick? also, if forgiveness is so important why do 'bad' people burn in hell for all eternity? that's a bit extreme dude. (this is me expressing my 11 yr old little girl thoughts, btw. please don't attack me for thinking mean things about your religion as a literal child. a child having it force fed to her)

So like, her concept of this need for us to bestow forgiveness on Elohim (her name for god) was like, mind-blowing. Bc my whole life it had been like, god is good; god is great; all the time; all the time. But to me, this guy just seemed like a giant asshole, bc all the stuff. Flooding the earth was the equivalent of a toddler flushing his toy down the toilet bc he's mad.

And I mean, once Jesus came along everything got real different. jesus was cool. and he could turn water into wine. which 11 yr old me thought he could have put to good use and just made a bunch of wine out of nasty water no one wanted and sold it. then used the money to build a temple, or a bunch of temples, or just give all the money to the poor.

(my dad liked the idea; my mom said that jesus wouldn't do that bc drinking was a sin. so of course i asked why jesus was giving people wine if drinking was a sin. so my mom volleyed with drinking not being the sin, getting drunk was the sin. and i was like, do you know how people get drunk? so she said something about free will, and god giving us choices. so i was like, can i choose to have wine? and she said no bc i was 11. so i was like, i think you're encroaching upon my free will. also bc i was 11 and i thought that was clever at the time. but me and my family have always been able to rib each other a little, to snark a bit and be sarcastic, but never malicious. It's like, playful.)

anyway, the point i'm trying to make is that reading that stupid, bad book felt like the first time an adult person had ever given me permission to be angry at god. not an adult who still believed in it all. and that was gratifying as fuck.

bc i didn't believe in their god, but furthermore, i didn't like him very much either. and i couldn't admit that i didn't believe (bc i have issues) for a few more years. but i sure was angry with who i saw as some version of a fictional man-child with an oversized ego brain-controlling all my friends. (Indoctrinating is the word, but 11 year old me didn't know it. And it was the thing she was thinking of, which tbh, is still a thing that happens around here. Kids grow up fed on it, and that fucks some of them up.)

She did know that you couldn't be mad at a fictional character because they don't, you know, exist. So she understood the anger was illogical, and because I was the type of kid who read textbooks for fun; she knew that meant she was projecting. (Surprise; it's really my mom I'm mad at. But 11 yr old me was not ready to emotionally process that, so she used it as anger at 'the church' which was either as vague or as all-encompassing as the situation called for)

anyway, i could channel all that anger, and redirect it and show it as anger toward god. for all the atrocities. and all the racism, and sexism, and homophobia in the church community. (specifically the southern baptist church community in the bible belt. the bible belt is it's own special hell. especially if you're queer and/or fucked in the head. Like, i know we're supposed to say neurodivergent or some shit. but like, i get to call it fucked in the head, bc i am fucked in the head myself. i have a wide array of mental illnesses/disorders)

and being able to use that as an outlet helped me keep playing pretend another few years. until i could reconcile that my mother, with all her good intentions, could hurt me. even if she didn't mean to. even if i could never ever let her know. bc knowing that would hurt her.

so yeah, that's the long, rambley tale of how reading anne rice's bad bible fanfiction helped me process my inner rage towards my mother. thus allowing me to ultimately move past it. mostly.

[theresawritesstuff]

Kitty showing Midge and Lenny the pictures she’s taken of them over the years and asking them if she can use them for her school project

(This one rambles and waxes poetic on photography as a medium a little... Less of a story and more of a snapshot. Hopefully it's okay.)

Kitty first fell in love with the camera when she was nine. Just not in the way most people in show business families do.

She'd tagged along to watch her father's photo shoot for the article announcing his step into the role of late night television host.

There'd been a team of photographers buzzing around, getting the staged shots they had planned. 

Things had almost wrapped up when she finally worked up the courage to ask one of the assistant photographers if she could look through the camera lense.

"Sure. It's a little heavy though so be careful."

"I will." 

It was bulky, but not unreasonable. 

She'd put her face to the eye piece, aiming it around the studio, seeing things through that magic little window for the first time.

She found her dad relaxing on the set, talking with Midge while the principal photographer switched gear. 

Midge said something that made Dad laugh and she instinctively just clicked.

"Sorry!" she'd said, after realizing what she'd done.

"Don't sweat it kid. That was the last of the role. Saves me from having extra on the end when we develop them."

A week later, they'd sent over proofs for the images they planned to use for the article and the ones the studio marketing team wanted.

They'd made a copy of Kitty's shot with a note giving her credit and a word of encouragement.

Her dad kept the print framed on his desk next to his typewriter.

She got a camera of her own for her tenth birthday. 

After that the rest was history.

Which was fitting because she'd developed a bit of a fascination with history. Capturing a moment that would otherwise be lost to time and preserving it. Giving it life to live on. To say we were here. For however long, this was us, as we were in our truth as we lived it. And what a phenomenal thing, to be able to hold a moment in your hands.

And so every vacation, every outing, Kitty had her camera ready.

It was a fixture of trips into town, of family dinners, frequently snuck into quieter moments when it was least expected. But the images spoke for themselves. 

She eventually found her way into studying photojournalism, a natural fit really for someone raised for the better portion of her upbringing with the Bruce and Weissman brand of championing truth and raw honesty in media and in life.

Before she knew it, she was preparing for her senior portfolio exhibition, a decade behind the camera under her belt and more than enough material to choose from. Arguably too much. 

She'd really gotten shutter happy in her early teens...

The work was good, mostly. She'd weeded out the weaker of the shots earlier in the semester. But now she needed her own version of a tight ten.

And she really wanted it to be good.

"Thanks for letting me drop in like this, Dad,"

she said as she walked through the familiar doorway of her childhood home.

Her father hugged her around the shoulder. "Any time, Kit. You know there's always room at the table."

"Even when Mom's hosting brunch?" Kitty quipped. 

"Hey we ran out of chairs one time!" Midge called from the kitchen. "And that's because Alan had his nephew in town who then decided to also invite his entire basketball team."

"Thinking ahead was never that family's strong suit," her dad chuckled, taking her bag from her. "Jesus, Kitty! What's in here?"

"That's actually what I wanted to talk to you guys about…"

They made their way to the living room and Kitty started to lay out her work.

"Now I know you both have worked hard to keep our home lives private, and I get that! So you can totally say no. But I was going through my portfolio at school and I kept coming back to some of these pictures of you two… I was hoping you'd give me permission to use them for the exhibit."

The three of them looked over the images laid before them.

Midge reached for the shot to her left picking it up. 

"I remember this one," she said fondly.

In it, she and dad were sharing a moment while hanging out the cabin window, trying to get the rabbit ears to pick up enough signal for the rest of the family to catch the moon landing.

"I call that one Fly me to the moon," Kitty admitted.

There were shots of the two of them from family parties, a few from the civil rights rallies they'd attended together, along with several backstage highlights from some of their more prestigious career events.

The images brought out sighs and laughter alike.

"These are great, kid," her father praised. "I'd buy all of these."

"They're not for sale, Dad. It's just a portfolio exhibit. A chance to show off our work. Maybe get some job info from the scouts the local papers send," Kitty reminded him.

"You do know you have multiple family members with contacts in the newspaper industry."

*Yeah but this is different. It's not like I'm writing."

Her father shrugged. "Still. Keep it in your back pocket. I know nepotism is a whole can of worms but when you're actually good at what you do…"

Her father lost his train of thought as he picked up a photo from some awards night featuring him leaning discreetly towards her step mother, whispering some joke or other.

"Oh man, what was I saying to you here? Based on that smirk, it must have been good!"

Midge laughed at the image. "I don't remember! Probably something about Gordon's shoes."

"Was that the night with the loud shoes?"

"Who knows…Oh this one, I do remember."

"Nope. Can't use that one." Her father snapped the image out of the pile. "I thought I burned all evidence of my mustache era."

Midge rolled her eyes. "You lost a bet. It happens. You're lucky Jo-jo let you still be his best man with that caterpillar on your lip."

"He was the one I lost the bet to!" her father laughed.

They managed to winnow it down to the most memorable of the set until Kitty felt satisfied with the results.

"Think your professor will be happy with these?" Midge asked as Kitty packed up to go after dinner.

"I hope so." Kitty gave her a hug as she pulled her bag back onto her shoulder. "I think he'll get a kick out of the one with Papa Abe at the piano from New Years. He's a fan of his old column."

Her father called from somewhere in the apartment, "Hang on! Before you go, I've got one more I think you should keep in mind."

"We just got it narrowed down," Kitty sighed heavily.

"Hear him out. He sounds enthusiastic." Midge smirked.

"Mom…what is he doing?"

Midge shrugged noncommittally. "You know he likes to keep your work around the house."

He soon returned with a familiar frame in hand.

"I just thought it might make a good addition."

"Dad…"

"Now don't lose that! Because I will want it back after you're done with it," he told her, crossing his arms seriously.

Kitty fingered the edge of the frame she'd seen so many times next to her father's articles as they were being typed, the little note tucked in the glass slightly yellow with age.

"I'll make a copy for the exhibit and get this back to you when I come for family dinner next weekend," she told him.

He nodded, satisfied.

"Hey, Kit. Not that we aren't flattered but, you've got a lot of other shots you could have chosen. Why us old timers?"

Midge elbowed him in the ribs lightly.

Kitty shrugged. "My professor left things pretty open for us to decide. But his big advice was we should shoot what matters most to us. So…"

Her father nodded mutely, hugging her goodbye and kissing the top of her head. "Good answer."

"See you at dinner next weekend, sweetie," Midge said.

"Chicken?" Kitty asked.

"Brisket."

Kitty pumped her free arm in celebration. "Yes."

"Hey. Love you, kiddo," her father said, leaning on the doorway as Kitty hailed down a cab.

"Love you, too."

The older comics watched until the cab drove out of sight.

"I know we wondered what the hell we were doing pretty regularly. But we must have done something right," Midge observed, resting her head against Lenny's shoulder.

"Yeah she turned out pretty great," Lenny admitted.

Midge hummed in agreement.

After a moment she asked, "So where'd you put the mustache picture?"

"In the garbage where it belongs," Lenny laughed.

Midge grinned wickedly, running into the house to retrieve it.

[toonqueen]

DAY 30: Problematic DUCK

I’ve missed most of Duckvember because I was sick and then work kicked my ass weh. So now I’m gonna go through these as quickly as possible lololol

For Gladstone Gander it would be Problematic Duck - but more like Problematic Luck. Ha. I headcanon That Grandma Duck (Elvira) actually had a little bit of extra luck to begin with. In the comic “The Sign of the Triple Distelfink” the painted symbol is more of a magnifier of already existing luck, which makes Daphne’s luck much more noticeable. Then, Gladstone being the next in line has his luck even more magnified than his mothers. 

Now, one of the things mentioned in the duck lore is that Gladstone’s parents died from overeating at a free picnic. That isn’t very lucky for Daphne, who is supposed to have luck. Wellll, look at this interesting part of this comic. 

So Gladstone won toys the day before and Daphne won a truck to hold Gladstone’s toys that morning. Her luck is taking a supporting role to Gladstone’s luck. So if the ‘luck’ was in a situation where both were in trouble but only one could be saved, would make sense the luck would choose the kid over the parent. And in my headcanon Gladstone’s luck would be stronger than his mom’s soooo. In a story I would hope to finish someday I had it that they were at a picnic but it wasn’t overeating that really killed them. Gladstone wasn’t there of course but OH BOY. As an adult he has some survivor's guilt.

 I have it that his parents wanted to leave where they were picnicking but child Gladstone was like NO I want to stay a little longer- and then leaves them to go play in whatever park or whatnot is nearby. It is when he leaves them is when the ‘INCIDENT’ happens. Dun dun DUN. So the reason they were still in the area was because of Gladstone, and he tries not to think about that.  It’s really NOT his fault there was some other stuff going on he’ll find out someday. SWEATS.

I also have an OC that is his and Magica’s daughter OF COURSE. Her name is Felicity. :3  And when she is a year away from being the same age that Gladstone was when his parents died, well, some weird stuff starts happening. My main fic I’ll write SOMEDAY is about Magica nd Gladstone researching really what is going on with the Distelfink, like who exactly painted it and what origins the actual design has. Trying to find out the background of the luck,  because you know, what if the luck takes out Gladstone is some round about way because it needed to protect Felicity. 

Also, with the luck magnifying every generation, Felicity’s starts to go out of control.  Gladstone’s luck  is more - oh 1000 people entered this raffle and he just happened to win it over the other people. Felicity is more like the first 40 numbers pulled before hers the people were sick or stuck in traffic. So she still wins, but some bad stuff may have happened to the people that would have won so she wins by default? Hard to EXPLAIN. As it gets  more powerful it seems to be more than just luck, but to bend reality itself. So a stop to it must be found to like, you know, prevent bad things. The usual. 

Art of Gladstone and OC daughter Felicity commission by @duckbutts69

There is also a AU I have where Felicity had been kidnapped by some baddies that knew of her luck/reality bending abilities. Her parents of course go to try to rescue her.  Soon after an Elder God type creature takes out most the life on the planet. Poe De Spell (my version have been turned back into a duck around the same time Felicity was born,) is one of the few people still alive on the planet. He believes it is because when Magica and Gladstone went to go try to rescue Felicity, Gladstone had told him to stay here (Grandma’s farm) because someone had to be here to way for Felicity to get back in case she comes back on her own. And Gladstone’s luck, even though something happened where him and Magica are now gone, still held with that statement making Poe survive all of it. Because someone had to wait for Felicity. Felicity disappeared at 6 and in  that AU is now 25. Poe has also not aged a day between that. So yeah, that's concerning. Though he’d probably start aging normal once Felicity gets back but unknown to him she actually went to a whole other universe. Oops. So he’s just gonna be immortal alone at Grandma’s farm because of GLADSTONE’S LUCK. 

Also Felicity for the canon super hero AU comics she would go by Miss Fortune. Which you know, sounds like misfortune, hinting to her luck causing bad luck for others. Dun dun dun.

Also I'd like the point out that man that painted the symbol is suspicious as hell, right?

[lepatites]

but my brother and sister have experienced it too.

my brother was having a 7-years-old relationship. they had been giving a lot to each other, sharing uncountable memories. i couldn’t understand his pain at all that time, especially when i watched him crying on the couch after he went to her wedding. i remember it vividly when mom brushed his head while crying too, telling that this is the fate he should endure. he would isolate himself in his room, playing an extreme loud music so we wouldn’t be able to hear him crying. he spent years alone before marrying someone so kind like an angel, which i think is better much more, which i think he truly deserves.

years later, i listened to my sister crying because his boyfriend was cheating with another man. all of the family members knew him, and we thought they were going to marry. but she found out, and she punched him, and they broke up. i could see that one relationship traumatizes her the most, as she stopped to look for any since then. at that time, i couldn’t understand her pain too. years later someone came to her and chose her without any doubt, and now they’re living romantically close.

last month, i looked at my aunt crying beside her husband’ s corpse. he is gone forever, leaving her here all alone. she cried every time someone came and explained everything all over again the tragedy that made her husband die. days later, and even until now, the unbearable longing keep coming but she couldn’t do anything but to cry.

so i’m telling myself, my dear, separation is inevitable. there are people who spent years to overcome all the sadness and love that they are no longer able to deliver. there will be so many empty days while you carry the heavy hearts around, you know how it feels, by now you’ve been there too. but later, it will grow again with the new opportunities. i understand it makes you impatient, and you want to skip all that cause you can’t bear the sadness, but look at your brother and sister. they have experienced it too. and they grow into the best versions of themselves, and they found someone who choose them all over again, despite them being so hard to understand, despite them busy catching their dream, despite them being weak over their sickness.

and you shouldn’t think everything is forever, cause even if you found the one, separation is inevitable. look at how much your aunt loves his husband, and how much his husband loves her for years. they are still separated too.

(i still want to write more but i want to cry so let’s stop here)

[theanonymousintrospector]

Let them? Or believe them?

I'm sure by now everyone has heard of the empowering "Let them....." posts and merch that's been circulating social media. I grabbed onto it at first wanting something to make me feel stronger than I currently am. Because my struggle is I believe them.

Sometimes I feel like I believe them more than I can convince myself. So who am I.

I can tell you who i feel like I am. Then I can tell you why I believe the version of who I am based on everyone else's opinion.

I feel like I am someone with good intentions. I am imperfect. I make mistakes. But most importantly I walk around with a heavy load of pain and sadness. People always seem to really like me at first. But when it because clear there more going on emotionally, they seem to steer clear of me. People avoid negative emotions.

That's not to say people haven't tried. To genuinely be close to me that is. But, I think I've i feel safe with someone, I have so much I'm trying to unload, I think I end up trauma dumping. I'm sure it can be exhausting. Do I lose those connections as well.

I'm almost 40. I just started consistant counseling 5 years ago, of which I learned, what I've been diagnosed as anxiety and depression, was a secondary symptom caused by actually having PTSD from relational trauma.

Because of how deep I have been hurt by people close to me, it makes it hard to make myself vulnerable again to where I might fall for Somone else's manipulation again. This has affected all relationships in my life. Relationships at work, my parents, my romantic relationships, my unlawful and my kids.

Even though I know I'm not the only person in this world that struggles in this way, i so find it hard not to feel alone.

I see my husband and how his family would go to bat for him, even if he was in the wrong. Then I see my family, which I've needed in several scenarios, but not one person came to bat for me when I needed them to. Even if I wasn't wrong.

So when the common demoninator between you and those who all reject you. It's hard not to believe them.

I could feel like a single mom before I got married who always put my kids first in everything I tried to do. I fought to be the best mom for my kids.

But they may see me as over protective, overbearing. Sometimes controlling and sometimes drinks too much and chooses relationships with men over them.

If only they truly knew how hard it was to be able to provide them the quality of life, as I had growing up if not better depended on atwo income household, because I was not making enough to sustain us. That and as a single mom, sometimes we just need someone to hold us and tell us that everything is going to be ok.

As co-parent I could view myself as fair putting my children first. But also wanting the time to build good memories in them. I felt like I was more than willing to support the relationships my children have with their fathers and let them decide what relationship they want to have with them.

I never expected to be a single mom of two kids with two different fathers. Mind you, I've never been married before recently, never cheated on anyone (but have been cheated on).

One child's father is non existent. My relationship with that child, although strained during the teen years, seems to be important to that child to maintain with me. And we currently are closer than we ever have been. And working on us every day.

The other child and I currently have a strained relationship. It's hard not to feel like that cold father didn't have any influence on our child's opinion of me. I know I've made my own mistakes. But I also know how that child's father views me. As they've openly expressed that to me, I can't imagine they would hold that back from our child.

That child's father, thinks I'm white trash. People only get with me when they are desperate. They feel I stuck them with a child for their money. Granted, this ex of mine also left me 4 months pregnant, on the side of the road after experiencing my first onset of an anxiety attack from what I didn't understand back then was PTSD. I understand it was scary.

Yes, I was screaming crying and hitting the dash. I don't blame that person for the leaving me part. But that ex got married 6 months later. Harassed me on social media that I was pinning them with a child. That child's would be taken away from me and they would be abused. They claimed I was whore who didn't know who the father was. (Which I did, I only did paternity tests to prove I wasn't lying) And that I wouldn't know when and I wouldn't know where, but I was "going to get it bitch". Messeges that all came from fake profiles. This one with a picture of a man pointing a gun at the camera.

This relationship came after a physically abusive relationship, that came after a toxic, physically, verballly, emotionally relationship. My first relationship ever, someone I be up with ended up in my man's bed. There's so much more to my history of toxic friendships and criminal ideology that all was prequel leading up to when I ended up having kids. I'm getting sidetracked from my point getting into all of this.

Back when I was a single mom. My point was, by this time I've been let down by even man in my life. Yes including my father, but I love my father and he did the best he could in the moment.

I lived my life just past my 30th birthday before I finally had a job that paid enough that I could start seeking counseling and start my path to healing. All this time caring around the fear and the pain of being the villain in other people's stories of me.

It's hard not to believe, because somehow everyone in my current life is associated with someone from my past. It's like I can't escape it.

And especially with my one child estranged, it's hard to know if what i did was enough for him to remember how hard i fought for him. I didn't actually ever lose my child in court proceedings. But I definitely lost them in the opinion of what they felt was best for themselves. Because as soon as they turned old enough to choose where they wanted to live. They left the house. And our relationship has been strained ever since.

I do everything I can to start over and rebuild. But I still feel like I'm battling overcoming the perception others have paint of me to my child. I definitely feel like I helped paint that prescription myself, because i tried always promoting the other parent to my child because I thought it best for my child to not know how I truly felt of there father.

I always thought my child would understand. They'd see in the end how hard i fought. That i did what was best and always loved and supported them. But here we are. Still estranged.

Its hard to Let them.... and not believe them. That's where I'm at and why I am sad today.

More to come another day because this deep cut bleeds into my work relationships as well.

But for today I'm drained. Putting my thoughts here feelings like someone or there might be feeling alone the same way I am. I hope trading this makes you feel like you are not alone. I could journal this am to myself. But, it's all ashtray in my head. I want to get this out of my head and out into the universe.

Negative comments not welcome thank you.

[jdgo51]

My Love and My Loss

by Kathie Lee Gifford, TV Personality

Today's inspiration comes from:

I Choose Peace

by Doug Bender

"'Wouldn’t it be a wonderful feeling,” asks Kathie Lee Gifford, former cohost of NBC’s fourth hour of the Today show, “to wake up in the morning and understand that no matter what goes on today, God can make something good out of it?”

Kathie Lee says she was born to entertain. If you were to meet her, you would be tempted at first to think you were encountering someone doing a slapstick version of herself. But it’s just Kathie Lee being Kathie Lee. She didn’t get in front of a camera and discover her television personality; instead, the performer came first and the camera followed.

Kathie Lee’s father told her many times while she was growing up to “find something you love to do and then figure out a way to get paid for it.” Kathie Lee did exactly that. She always knew God made her to perform, and she knew the entertainment industry was where she would fulfill her destiny. In fact, she earned her first paycheck as an entertainer when she was just ten years old.

“It was thrilling getting my first paying job singing,” she says. “I knew exactly what I wanted to do from the time I was a baby. But to be a young woman in that business is brutal because of the rejection. It’s nonstop.”

After a dozen years working as a singer and actress, Kathie Lee rose to national fame cohosting a live morning television show with Regis Philbin in 1985. Beginning locally in New York, Live with Regis and Kathie Lee sprang to national syndication three years after she joined the program and became an American mainstay. Until the summer of 2000, she cohosted the show, which aired on millions of television sets every weekday morning.

She was in her element, doing what she had been born to do, what her parents had always encouraged her to do. But Kathie Lee’s mom and dad had never pushed her to perform.

“I’ve never understood the kind of parent that says to their children, ‘You’ve got to be this or that,’” Kathie Lee says. “I was privileged to have parents like I had. They were extraordinary, loving people. They loved me for who I was and encouraged my dreams.”

Growing up, she always had a song to sing and a show to perform. She found fulfillment in bringing joy and a smile to others. Her always-on-stage approach to life followed her throughout the years.

“I learned the reason that performing was so joyful to me is because God is our creator,” she says. “I am created by God, and I’m made in His image. That means I am also a creator. I feel most divine when I am creating something beautiful. It’s every human being’s purpose.” Kathie Lee’s joy is not a result of a lucky career or perfect family, as is clear when she speaks of the darker points in her journey. She may have earned eleven Daytime Emmy nominations, written books, released albums, and even contributed to several Broadway productions. But the brighter the limelight shines, the more caustic public reactions to a stumble can turn.

In 1996, reports surfaced that Kathie Lee’s clothing line was produced out of a Honduran sweatshop with abysmally poor working conditions. The reports held her personally responsible. She insisted she had nothing to do with the day-to-day operating of the clothing factories and was only a celebrity sponsor of the apparel. She even worked to bring about legislation to prevent similarly inhumane working conditions elsewhere. But still the public reaction came fierce and hard.

“It was a very dark, dark period for me,” she says. “But God put me to work. There is slavery in the world, more than ever. There are labor conditions that are horrible.”

“It’s unjust what you’ve been accused of,” she heard God say through all this, “but why don’t you get your eyes off of you for a minute and look at the unjust conditions that people are working under. You didn’t cause it, but you need to care about it.”

She became a leading proponent of fair labor laws and used her on-air power to push for legislative changes.

Shalom doesn’t mean just peace. It means all of the aspects of God. It means justice, righteousness, faithfulness, unfailing love, and, yes, peace. It’s a peace that passes all understanding.

In the following year, Kathie Lee’s personal life also hit a new low. Kathie Lee had married Frank Gifford in 1986, and after more than a decade of marriage and two children, Frank was caught in a humiliating and public affair. Tabloids seized upon the story and printed pictures that brought agony to Kathie Lee.

“It was devastating to me,” she says. “But I was able to stay in my marriage and have God heal it. I’ve heard from hundreds of thousands of people since then who got courage from [my experience], courage to stay in their broken marriages and forgive their husbands and wives. They got courage to keep their families together. Not everybody does. I didn’t do it on my own. God gives us everything we need every day.”

Kathie Lee’s journey with God began as a child when Jesus called her name in a dream.

“It’s vivid to me to this day,” she recalls. “In the dream I’m outside in the front yard helping my daddy rake the leaves. We used to play in them. I looked up. There was Jesus sitting on a cloud. He smiled at me and He said my name.”

A few years later, as a twelve-year-old, she walked into a movie theater featuring The Restless Ones, a production of the Billy Graham Evangelistic Association. The movie has been widely panned for its stiff dialogue and overt religiosity, but for many the truth at its core outshone any artistic inadequacies. It told of a young girl on the cusp of womanhood making the choice between going down the road that led to death or one that led to life.

“I could hear the voice of the Lord in the movie,” Kathie Lee says.

“Kathie,” she heard Him say, “will you trust Me to make something beautiful out of your life and go down my road? It’s harder. It’s going to be lonely at times. It’s going to be tougher than the big wide road over there. Ultimately it’s going to be a much more beautiful life, but you’ve got to trust Me.”

After the movie, as with all Billy Graham events, someone rose in the front and asked if anyone wanted to come forward and follow Jesus. The movie, cheesy as it was, served a function for the more than 120,000 people who’d said yes to that question during the time it ran. Kathie Lee was in that number.

“I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life since then,” she says. “I will make a lot of them before this day is done. But that is one decision I made that I have always been deeply, deeply grateful for. I listened to the voice of Jesus. I heard Him tell me He had a purpose for my life, that He loved me. He wanted to make something beautiful with my life.”

Kathie Lee has Jewish ancestry, and as a Christian she has discovered great significance in a Hebrew word that is found in Jewish greetings, teachings, and scriptures: shalom. The word touches upon the idea of perfection and wholeness.

“Shalom doesn’t mean just peace,” she says, “like it’s come to mean in our world. It means all of the aspects of God. It means justice, righteousness, faithfulness, unfailing love, and, yes, peace. It’s a peace that passes all understanding. That’s what we’re here for. Look around. Do you see the chaos? You’re supposed to be part of the shalom, the peace. That’s what every human heart longs for — to partner in that and know you matter.”

The Bible calls Jesus the Prince of Peace. He’s the one who brings peace and wholeness to the world. But He didn’t sit on that peace and hoard it for Himself. He stepped out of Heaven and got dirty with His people. He lived with them, ate with them, hugged them, and talked with them. He taught His followers to join Him in this work of getting out and bringing peace to the world.

Kathie Lee finds inspiration in Jesus’ example. Jesus got out into the world and confronted the cultural norms of His day. He insisted on spending time with the poor, the sick, the sinner, and the outcast.

For fifteen years on Live with Regis and Kathie Lee, Kathie Lee lived her life publicly, discussing family, marriage, and raising children on a morning talk show for the world to see. People saw her cry, laugh, and ask the deeper questions. After leaving Live, she took some time away from television, then rejoined America’s morning routine in 2008 as cohost with Hoda Kotb of NBC’s fourth hour of Today. For the next decade Kathie Lee continued to follow Jesus’ example of getting out into the world.

“We are supposed to get out and be the sweet fragrance of Jesus to this world,” she says. “Love your neighbor as you love yourself is what Jesus taught. Don’t live in a selfie world. Live in a selfless world. Don’t walk over homeless people on your way to get someplace. We’re supposed to get down and dirty like Jesus did. We’re supposed to wash AIDS patients’ feet. We’re supposed to adopt children who have no home.

“God is perfecting us. Not a physical perfection or personal perfection, but God’s perfect love. He is perfecting love in us. That love leads to perfection in a world yet to come. It’s something to look forward to.”'

Excerpted with permission from I Choose Peace by Doug Bender, copyright e3 Partners Ministry.

[artxsticsuper]

My favorite member is definitely Robaire 🌹 THIS MAN IS SO FINE ✨✨✨ When I first saw him, he reminded me of 2 of my favorite artists: Jason Derulo and Usher. I started to grow into him after finding out he was voiced by Jordan Fisher (bro’s so talented I swear 😭). Also, THE HIGH NOTE! Can’t forget that high note he did. It was so angelic and it literally gave me goosebumps when I first heard it. 

I don’t have a favorite member I previously had but if I had to pick another one, it’d be Jesse.

Robaire likes to confuse the hell out of anyone who doesn’t know or speak French, specifically when he flirts or swears in French.

When it comes to Tae, Jesse can become overprotective sometimes (he’s literally the dad of the group).

Because Tae is an animal person, he’s usually not afraid of most animals. He’d be the type to ask if he can keep a rescued animal while on tour. If they say yes, he’ll end up filling the whole tour bus.

For Aaron T: T is the type of guy to say yes to “If your friend jumped off a bridge, would you?” For Aaron Z: Z would sometimes playfully tease Robaire while playing basketball with him.

My top 3 songs ranked: 1. U Know What’s Up 2. 1 True Love 3. Nobody Like U // This was honestly a hard pick to choose from since all of them I loved. But my favorite was “U Know What’s Up”, especially the panda hustle version. Because of how catchier the song and the lyrics are, I ended up dancing harder with this song compared to the rest of the other songs.

I ship Robaire and Tae Young; I feel like Robaire would have a cute relationship with Tae and he would be one of the members where he treats Tae like a regular member rather than a child. It’s hard to ship the rest of the band since they never got a lot of screen time in the movie. I might ship Robaire with Jesse too but for now I’m depending on Tae.

My first memory of 4*Town was when I first saw the Tween Beat magazine on Pixar’s Instagram account back in early 2022 before Turning Red was released on Disney+.

Yes! I wish there were more chapters but I absolutely enjoyed it. My favorite chapter in the Manga is True Crew because I love the idea of Robaire and Aaron Z being childhood friends and rivals to each other. We should have seen more of Robaire’s mom in the manga since she could have some similarities to Ming Lee and she could also be an obstacle to Robaire’s relationship with Z.

Nobody Like U: “I want everybody to stop and stare, and you know why it’s me Robaire” 1 True Love: “I could never survive a minute apart, you are my one true love” U Know What’s Up: “You want those shoes, you want that shirt, you want that car, you want that purse”

The concert scene, 100%! The moment those cages and the wings appeared, I knew I was going to lose it because I ended up fangirling so hard the whole time and I wanted to take Mei’s place to reach out for Robaire’s hand so badly. It gets even better when the band comes back during the Panda ritual, it had me shook—

Tough choice. I’m thinking between Robaire and Aaron Z because I feel like these two would be the ones who led to the rise of 4*Town besides both of them having a passion for singing.

I’m not that experienced with fairy tales. But here’s which fairy tale I think each member would be in: Robaire: Jack in the Beanstalk // Jesse: Rapunzel // Tae Young: Snow White // Aaron T: Alice in Wonderland // Aaron Z: Red Riding Hood//

I would buy their clothes and accessories, maybe the CD’s as well.

This one, I’m not too sure about. But I do want an album that relates to the song featured in True Crew.

What I like the most about 4*Town is their songs. As much as I don’t frequently listen to boy bands, 4*Town perfectly represents a band from the 2000s, especially with the lyrics, tone, and beat (Finneas and Billie, I love you for this 💕).

I love the headcanons and the artwork from this fandom! It’s fun to read them from all of the members and I would sometimes read the X Reader ones too! 💕

Besides doing art, I sometimes make edits and play video games.

“Catch 22” and “I’ll Be” ✨

NewJeans - OMG

Smash Mouth - All Star

If I had to make a series, I would include all of the members backstories and the formation of 4*Town because I was hoping to get more screen time with the band in the movie. I don’t care if they’re not the main protagonists, I NEED TO SEE MORE OF THEM 😭

I have 2 favorites, specifically from the Manga: I love Tae Young and Jesse’s relationship in the manga. It melts my heart when Jesse becomes supportive of Tae while he’s going through conflict with his parents. I also love Robaire and Aaron Z’s relationship. Like I said before, I love the idea of these two being childhood friends and rivals to each other.

I would love to hear the Girl I Love Your Jeans remix! I say it should have a mixture of pop and rap for most of the song. The rap sections would mostly be in the verses.

I currently don’t have any suggestions.

I can’t pick any favorites at the moment. However, I did love most of the blogs on Tumblr when I first started using Tumblr around mid 2022.

I enjoy sharing 4*Town content! I also enjoy the fandom that increased my love for the band. If Pixar ever made a series focused on the band, I would immediately binge watch it because these guys deserve it after what I have witnessed in that concert scene.

The Manga doesn’t really need changes but I do think there should be more added to it. Although we did get a minor backstory for most of the band members, I wanted to see more of the lives of each band member, especially Robaire, Aaron T, and Aaron Z.

I have a feeling I’ll get jumped for this. But I don’t ship Aaron T and Aaron Z a lot. As much as I have nothing against this ship and I support the idea of them being together, I just don’t ship it as much as other people do in the fandom.

Another tough choice but I think I would mostly get along with Robaire and Jesse. For Jesse, him being the father of the group should be a good enough explanation even though I consider him the type of guy to babysit me and try to keep me under control even when I’m not being a menace (I could be kinda goofy in real life but only with close friends cuz I’m not very sociable). However, he has similar interests to mine due to him going to art school. Personally, I think he can do art other than pottery. For Robaire, his personality would be spot on to Jordan Fisher’s. I count this man as a sweetheart, pretty mature like Jesse, charming, and takes certain things seriously like I do. Robaire could sometimes be extra to the point where it can be slightly annoying but I can manage him. And another thing, this man’s singing skills other than Aaron Z’s sends me over the roof. It feels like heaven to me and I would wanna be his soulmate if he was real.

I currently don’t have any expectations.

Love me Back by Trinidad Cardona: I honestly blame the edits people made of 4*Town with this specific song. That, and this one Tae Young X Listener video I watched a while back which has been unfortunately deleted. The song gives me summer vibes and I think it would be awesome if the entire band sang this song! If I ever got the chance to learn how to animate, I would make a music video. Everybody by the Backstreet Boys also reminds me of 4*Town, which is a bit ironic since this band might be Domee Shi’s inspiration behind 4*Town.

Yes, I do! Here’s my message: I would like to say thank you all for giving 4*Town the attention they deserve and for the popularity it got. I would also like to say thank you to the people who made some of the most talented artwork, edits, fanfictions, and headcanons from this band. No matter how active this fandom is, 4*Town will always remain in my heart and this will be a reminder to me where I can count on the team who created this band. I love y’all so much 💕

Welcome one and all to the… 4*Town Ask Game! Where you can answer questions to emphasise your love for the entire 4*Town fandom and to also bring the hype of my fanfiction that’s coming up soon.

How it’s going to work: I’ll write the questions on this post, make sure to read them carefully as a way to fully answer the questions in detail, once you've read them, reblog to answer the full questions and make sure that the words are appropriate as I don’t tolerate hateful behaviour. And don’t forget to share this to others so they can share the love for this group as well! Without further ado, let’s get started!

Who is your favourite member and why?

Who was your favourite member previously?

Share with me a headcanon on Robaire 🌹

Share with me a headcanon on Jesse 🎨

Share with me a headcanon on Tae Young 🕊️

Share a headcanon on The Aarons (Z and T)

What is your favourite 4*Town song and why? (Include your Top 3.)

Who do you ship from the group and why?

What was your first memory of 4*Town?

Did you read the manga? If so, what is your favourite chapter and why?

Name me your top 3 favourite lyrics from each 4*Town song🎵🎶

Do you have a favourite 4*Town scene from Turning Red and why?

Since I’m working on the “4*Town: Unfiltered” story, who do you want to be the main protagonist and why?

If you could imagine each 4*Town member in a fairy tale or any story, which one would each member be in and why?

What type of merch would you buy if 4*Town had merchendise?

For their next album, what concept would you want it to be and what songs could you include and why?

What do you like the most about 4*Town and why?

What do you love most about the entire fandom?

Do you do art or any other activities?

Can you tell me your favourite song from Robaire and Aaron Z’s discography? (You can sing the song’s lyrics as well.) And if you don’t know what I mean, I’m talking about the songs from my headcanons.

Pick a song for Tae Young and Jesse if they were a duo.

Pick a song for Aaron T if he went solo.

If you had to make a series or a spin-off of 4*Town, what would you include and why?

Do you have a favourite relationship from the group and why?

Which unreleased song from the group are you willing to hear and what are you expecting the song to sound like?

Are there any more themes or genres for my fanfiction that I should explore? It would be nice if you gave me any suggestions, please.

Do you have a favourite blog from the fandom and what do you like about them?

Do you enjoy sharing 4*Town content? Why or why not?

If there were any changes in the manga, what would you change? Why or why not?

Any unpopular opinions on 4*Town?

Which member do you think you’d get along with the most? Why or why not?

What are you expecting the fanfiction to look like to you when it gets released on Wattpad? Any form of plot? Character development? Conflicts?

Which songs remind you of 4*Town? Why or why not?

And the final question: Do you have a message for the whole entire fandom?

[rafescoke]

Crime ; Rafe Cameron (Part 2)

masterlist

Read the previous part: Part #1

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: Reader would do anything for the boy she loves from a summer ago.

Warnings: Story takes place at the start of season 2 (and some flashbacks from season 1), swearing, angst, death penalty, gaslighting, reader just needing help

“Get the fuck away,” she said against the pattering of the rain, still walking tiredly. She tried to blink to clear off her eyesight, but the rain was getting heavier. She hated the fact that her only choice was to get into the car, or else she would probably be sick until the end of the summer.

The car stopped, and whoever in that car sighed. “I don’t have time, and I won’t leave you alone. Get in.”

“Fuck off,” she said again, feeling her tank top sticking to her body. She felt extremely cold now, not wearing proper clothes or bringing some type of an umbrella.

“Get in,” he sighed again, and when the lightning struck a tree not far from where she was standing, she realised she really didn’t have a choice.

She placed herself into the Range Rover, wetting the seat and the carpet, and she could hear the faint music coming from the radio. She didn’t dare glance at the boy beside him, and he didn’t waste anymore time before hitting the breaks and speeding down the road.

“So you’re stalking me now?”

Rafe laughed, “I won’t call it stalking. Perhaps protecting.”

(Y/N) scoffed, watching the car freshener swaying from the rearview mirror. It was the freshener from before, and (Y/N) wondered if he ever changed It.

“What are you doing at the Chateau?”

“Nothing,” she mumbled, slightly shivering from the rain before. “Why? Are you mad?”

He stayed shut, his eyes focusing on the road, and (Y/N) crossed her arms again.

“I saw you kissed him.”

“Of course,” she laughed shrilly, not looking at him. “What else did you see? Did you stalk me in New York too?”

He shrugged, “Should’ve.”

“Fucking psycho,” she muttered under her breath. “Now what? You’re going to kill me like you murdered that sheriff?”

She watched as Rafe’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel, his eyes staring straight at the road. For a second she was afraid of him, but knew he would never hurt her, not when he loved her a bit too much.

“I fucking hate you,” she spat, crossing her arms. “And I wish I’ve never met you.”

“Say that again, and I’ll fucking kill you,” he breathed, and (Y/N) gritted her teeth. She watched him from the corners of her eyes, his fingers still etched onto the steering wheel, his face contorted in anger.

“You should be in jail,” she said again, and she didn’t know why she wouldn’t just shut up. She guessed she was probably tired of being treated like shit, and she wanted to put an end to it.

Rafe accelerated the car, driving straight back to Figure 8, and all those time they didn’t speak, just sitting in the silence as (Y/N) cried, thinking of what she had gotten herself into.

She was covering up for a crime.

If this news ever goes out she would never get a place in college, and all of her future dreams would be ruined.

She jolted out of her thoughts when the car stopped abruptly, and she looked at the view outside. The bold font of ‘Kildare County Sheriff’s Station’ greeted her, and she turned to look at Rafe quickly.

“What the fuck are we doing here?” She grunted, her heart beating wildly.

“Go. You’re done covering up for me? Go. Go and fucking tell them that Rafe Cameron murdered Sheriff Peterkin!” He expressed, his eyes flaring up in anger. “Isn’t that what you fucking want?”

(Y/N) stayed silent, her eyes glassy. The boy in front of her was breathing heavily, and she noticed how different he was from before.

His face had become smaller, and his cheekbones were more apparent. He didn’t slick his hair back anymore and just let them messily part, and his glowing blue eyes were now dark.

She held him in her hands, placing her forehead against his. “I don’t mean it like that, Rafe.”

Rafe closed his eyes, breathing into her scent that he had missed so much, and his hands instantly went up to her hair. He bit his lips, feeling her now, and wished he would never have to part from her again.

“They’re having a hearing for John B,” Rafe said, his voice barely above a whisper. “And they’re calling you for the hearing too.”

She sucked in a breath, knowing this was bound to happen, “Rafe, I-”

“I’m not forcing you to cover up for me,” he whispered, “I get it if you won’t do it anymore. You hate me, and it’s okay. I would do the same.”

The tears were streaming down her face now, and she couldn’t bring herself to wipe them away. She held him close, still caressing his face, and bit her lips to stop a whimper.

“My dad’s going to ask you to cover up for me, and it’s okay if you won’t do it on the day of the hearing,” he continued, and she watched a tear roll down his face. He quickly wiped them away, pulling himself away and sighing before the steering wheel. “I just want you to know that I love you.”

“Rafe,” she sighed. This was exactly the problem; seeing him so weak under her, and she wanted nothing but to stay with him forever.

She held him close as he sobbed onto her lap, running her fingers through his hair.

Would she do it? Would she actually do this?

“I’ll do it,” she said, and Rafe quickly looked up to her, shaking his head. “I’ll do it,” she repeated, her eyes certain.

“You don’t have to,” he said, cupping her face. “Oh, baby, thank you, I love you so much. I love you so much.”

The news about (Y/N) having to stand for the hearing wasn’t accepted well by her parents, and Mr (Y/L/N) argued until the night sky settled in with Ward about how this will affect her college applications, to which Ward promised he would do everything in his will to help her get into the best college in the states.

The hearing was set not until next week, but (Y/N) could already feel the pressure building up in her stomach. It was between justice and Rafe now, and she didn’t know what to choose.

Rafe had been there with her throughout the whole week, just staying in bed with her, hugging her close and never letting go. It was just like their usual Sunday mornings last year, but this wasn’t as peaceful as that.

“I love you,” he said, pressing a soft kiss against her forehead. (Y/N) shifted, so that she was facing the other way, and she wished she didn’t have to have such a hard time thinking about what she would be saying during the hearing.

All her life, she was told to always tell the truth, especially when there’s somebody falsely accused. But she loved Rafe too much, and she wouldn’t let him go even for a second again.

It was the night before the hearing that Rafe had to leave and see her tomorrow when Mrs (Y/L/N) entered her room, placing herself beside the lump under the blanket.

“Hey, mom,” she said, her voice croaky.

“Hey,” she smiled weakly, placing her hands against her cheeks. (Y/N) leaned into her touch, and wished she was still a little child. “Did Rafe do it?”

“Huh?” She sat up straight, rubbing her eyes. She laughed nervously, “Mom, what are you saying?”

“All I’m saying is,” she sighed, “It’s okay if he did it. You can tell me, (Y/N). I’m always here for you.”

She so badly wanted to tell her mother, to confess about the whole thing and cried against her arms. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t bring herself to part with Rafe again, and she wouldn’t do it even for a few seconds.

“He didn’t,” she lied, laying her head against the pillow again. “It was John B.”

“Okay,” she nodded, but (Y/N) could feel that she knew all along.

“You must do the right thing, okay?” Was all she said, before she placed another soft kiss against her forehead and left her to cry her heart out until the morning sun appeared.

. . .

(Y/N) glanced at Rafe and his father behind her, and quickly looked back at the judge. She closed her eyes, feeling so shaky, and cleared her throat.

“I was with Rafe, we were just there to send, um, Ward off to the Bahamas. I was, uh, alone with him,” she started, her voice so shaky she felt as if she had just confessed the truth. She cleared her throat again, “We saw, um, Sheriff Peterkin and um, John B, Ward and Sarah.”

“Did Rafe Cameron shoot Sheriff Peterkin?”

It felt like a slap across her face, and she didn’t know what to do. She glanced at John B again, in his orange suit, looking at her with pleading eyes. She looked her parents, determined that she was not guilty, and back to Rafe, who was on the edge of crying.

“(Y/N)? Did Rafe Cameron shoot Sheriff Peterkin?”

(Y/N) thoughts wandered to the first time she and Rafe had sex. It happened in a party, and (Y/N) never regretted her actions on that day. That was only a few days after he had asked her to become his girlfriend, and 4 days away before the murder of the sheriff took place.

“You’re drunk,” she laughed, pushing him onto the sofa before climbing on top of him. This was usual between the two of them, always teasing each other but never really acting on it. But (Y/N) felt different that day, and she wanted the whole him.

“Oh yeah?” He raised a brow from under her, his fingers playing with the hem of her skirt. He turned her over so she was now under him, and she giggled ferociously, closing her eyes. His fingers trailed down to her cheeks, and he bit his lips as she let out a whimper.

He leaned closer, his lips nibbling on her earlobe. She groaned, tugging on his head, “What should we do then?”

“(Y/N), did Rafe shoot Sheriff Peterkin?”

(Y/N) looked up to the judge, her eyes glassy and her lips trembling. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes, and voiced out her own version of truth.

“It was John B who shot Sheriff Peterkin.”

The whole crowd went wild, Kie was screaming from the back, and she could hear Ward exclaiming happily, satisfied. She bit her lips, knowing she just committed a crime, and looked at John B.

Rafe went to put his arms around her, whispering an ‘are you okay?’ to which she nodded at, but she was far from okay; she felt like screaming her heart out.

Rafe placed another kiss against the back of her head before reclaiming his seat beside Ward, his body relaxing.

“John Booker Routledge, pursuant to the North Carolina statute section 14, you are charged with murder in the first degree with aggravated circumstances. The maximum sentence would be the death penalty.”

The crowd broke out into chaos again, and (Y/N) had never felt weaker than before. Rafe quickly pulled her up, whispering comforting words into her ear, all while Kie and the other pogues tried to surround her.

“(Y/N), it’s not too late-” JJ tried to reach her, “(Y/N), please. Don’t fucking do this to me! You know the truth!”

“Fucking move,” Rafe muttered, still wrapping his arms around (Y/N) and walking towards the exit. She felt lifeless under his touch, so weak she could feel herself fainting.

She just sent someone to a death penalty.

“Murderer!” Kie yelled, just before Rafe could put her into the car, caressing her hair and letting her drop onto his lap, trembling intensely.

“You’re fine,” he whispered, soothing her hair as the car drove away, and the screams behind her slowly disappeared. “You’re fine.”

He kissed her on her forehead, “Thank you, baby. I love you. I love you so much.”

Her head had never felt more painful, and she could hear a ringing tone thrumming against her eardrums. She tugged on Rafe’s wrist, pulling him close. All in all, she was glad to be back into his arms.

[opheliawillowbrook]

How the Cookie Crumbles

To say his brothers fought would be an understatement: They warred. That. That was the better word. However, it was Dick who was the peacemaker among them. The mediator extraordinaire, translating all his brothers’ woes and misunderstandings into less doom-pending transgressions. But to say this unofficial, yet very necessary part he played was tasking was yet another understatement of unspeakable proportions. It was a FUCKING LOT.

“I swear to God, Drake. You and Brown are a special kind of stupid.”

“Shut up, Damian! It’s a good idea!” Tim grumbled in reply.

“Yeah! You’re just mad you didn’t think of it first!”

Dick’s face fell upon hearing the argument and considered turning the other way, but he’d learned the hard way that his lack of interference could result in bloodshed. Damian did have a history of stabbing Tim, and Robin had an impressive body count, according to Jason. I’d better  make sure he doesn’t add two more.

“Well, fuck me and my  entire life,” Dick droned in frustration. “What are you three bitching about now?”

“Damian keeps saying our idea is stupid,” Stephanie tattled.

“Yeah!” Tim added with crossed arms. “He says we lack the fortitude for good ideas!”

“You do!” the current robin exclaimed.

“Damian?”

The youngest batboy rolled his eyes and reasoned, “Listen, I know these two brain donors barely have two brain cells to rub between them—”

“That’s not the only thing they rub!” Jason called from the other room.

Damian again rolled his eyes in contempt and continued, “And I’ve accepted, as a member of this family, that everyone gets to act a little stupid from time to time. However, as much as I would like to respect their commitment to their shared stupidity, I feel as if they are abusing the privilege and it needs to stop before one of them gets hurt.”

“Wow, he actually cares,” Jason added from still in another room.

“Have you been sitting there listening the whole time?” Dick asked, near facepalm.

“Affirmative,” Jason confirmed, entering from the hall.

“And you did nothing to stop them fighting?”

“It’s funnier this way.”

“Do I always have to be the responsible one?”

“Affirmative,” all four said with little thought.

“Okay then,” Dick sighed with reluctance. “Damian, I know you find it hard to accept the choices of others, but you need to understand that free choice and expression is about accepting that others may not make the same choices as you, and that’s okay. It’s the same as you choosing not to take my dating advice and ask Raven out because you’re afraid of rejection—”

“Shut up, Grayson! This isn’t about me!!!” Damian spat.

“Damian has the hots for Raven?” Jason teased. “You have good taste, Mighty Mouse. She got a great—”

“Don’t even finish that sentence, Todd!” Dick and Damian ordered in unison.

“I was gonna say personality,” Jason droned. “Get your minds out of the gutter. I mean for fuck’ sake.”

“Sure you were,” Tim replied with a glower.

“Yeah Tim, cause you never stare at her tits while you talk to her,” Jason added, throwing him doubly under the bus.

“Dude, are you trying to get me killed?” Tim said, shooting an elbow into his brother’s ribs as Damian and Stephanie both glared. Spurring Dick into a further mood for murder.

“My point being is, just because you don’t like other peoples’ ideas, doesn’t mean they’re stupid.”

“Tell them the idea, guys!” Jason urged, stirring the pot.

Stephanie and Tim looked at each other and nodded, as though they’d discovered the holy grail itself. “We’re gonna write a series of YA novels and sell them on the web!” Steph sang optimistically.

“Yeah, it’s a huge and diverse market,” Tim added.

“And with established characters, we’ll make a killing.”

Dick’s brow furrowed. “That sounds like fanfiction?”

“It sounds like utter bullshit,” Damian sneered, not single fuck given.

“It’s not bullshit,” Tim snapped. “YA novels make up a huge portion of the market. People love those things.”

“Then name one YA novel that has sold more than a manga in the last 10 years?”

Tim shrugged. “I can’t think of one at the top of my head, but there they definitely exist and sell.”

“Yeah, so does my fanfiction based on this family,” Jason added under his breath.

“What?” Everyone asked.

“Nothing. Continue.”

“So anyway, I told Damian it’s a foolproof plan.”

Dick rolled his eyes with a bit of doubt, but who was he to judge or discourage their creativity. I mean, he dropped out of college after all? “I’m not saying I believe it’s bulletproof, because frankly, nothing is. But I’m curious why you would consider telling Damian? I mean, he hates most things.”

“And Drake. I hate Drake.”

“We’re all very aware, Dami,” Dick drawled in annoyance. “But yeah, why would you tell him anything important to you? Especially that?”

“Well, we kinda needed a loan. I knew Bruce would undoubtedly say no and, well, Damian has money.”

“Because I make good business decisions.”

“I don’t know why I thought of asking you?”

“You didn’t, Jason told you to,” Stephanie confessed, recalling an earlier conversation.

“Jason, really?” Dick tsked.

“Hey, Damian does make good business decisions. Who do you think cleans and invests money? It’s certainly not Alfred.”

“Because Alfred would have nothing to do with your blood money, Jason. And Damian, I’m very disappointed in you!”

“Grayson, I don’t know what high horse you are riding on today, but you better come off it. Father told me if I wanted money, that I needed to earn it and that I should get a job. So I got one.”

“Laundering money for Red Hood’s criminal Enterprise is not a job!”

“Actually it is. Mighty Mouse made us an LLC and everything. I own several Wash & Folds, all legitimate! Thanks to Hell Spawn here! I’m actually considering making him a partner.”

“So will your LLC fund our YA Novels?”

“Oh fuck no!”

“Come on, Jay! We have a solid business plan,” Stephanie pleased.

“You’re business plan is a bunch of meaningless numbers written on the back of a napkin and poorly illustrated versions of us,” Damian said, holding up the napkin in question.

“Okay, so it’s not the final draft, but we’re working on it!” Tim said pointedly.

“Yeah, as tempting as this all sounds, I didn’t make my money making half baked business decisions,” Jason reasoned

“No, you made it by taking over Gotham’s drug trade,” Dick clarified with disapproval.

“Which was a solid business decision.”

“Why do I even talk to you?”

“I don’t know why I talk to any of you,” Damian scowled, arms crossed, grateful there was no shared genetics between him and his adoptive kin. “I don’t understand what father saw in any of you.

“I can’t answer that,” Jason replied. “However, I can tell you, from personal experience, what he saw in your mom.”

“Do you wanna die, Todd?”

“Do you wanna not have a job?” Jason wanted. “Also, been there done that. But hey, if I died twice then I’d have buffy status so don’t threaten me with a good time, kid.”

“On that note, I’m leaving,” Damian grimaced. “I have to meet Raven, anyway.”

“Oh,” Dick sang. “You have a date!”

“It’s not a date.”

“Bet you wish it was a date,” Stephanie teased. “Y’know, if you just stopped acting like a dick all the time, I bet she’d go out with you.”

“Shut up, Brown.”

“Oh no,” Dick smiled. “I know it’s hard to believe, but he’s nice to Raven.”

“Hey keep that shit up,” Jason added. “If you’re nice to her, she’d be nice to you!”

“I hate all of you,” Damian proclaimed and stormed away.

“Fuck you too! See you at work Monday! Jason called, earning a tiger middle finger.

“He might be an asshole, but he’s a good kid,” Jason nodded with a sense of pride, causing to Dick to silently scoff. “Still needs to get laid though.”

“Bruce is gonna be so pissed when he finds out you pulled Dami into your bullshit.”

“You’re using Raven’s pet name for him now?” Jason mocked. “And fucker’s gonna have to prove it first; there’s a reason I hired ‘Dami’ for that job.”

“Dude, fuck you; dig your grave,” Dick lamented. “And don’t come at me with one of your tired ass death jokes, they’re getting old.”

“Suit yourself,” the Outlaw glowered as silence set in.

“So Dick,” Tim dared sheepishly. “You, um, wanna invest in--”

“Absolutely not,” the elder hero replied.

Leaving Jason to chuckle. “And that’s the way the cookie crumbled.”

If you enjoyed that feel free to leave me kudos 👉 here on Ao3 lol. If you have any remdom prompts send them my way; maybe I’ll feel inspired 😘

[sisterspooky1013]

Only One Choice, Part 2, Chapter 24

Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

June 1999

The air smells wet and woody, birdsongs trilling in the early morning sun that trickles through a sky light. She stretches, then disentangles her legs from the sheets and stands, walking to the window.

There is a giant soaking tub in the corner of the room, flanked by two windowed walls that afford a sweeping view of the Cascade mountains, green carpeted hillsides meeting with a baby-blue sky.

She can still recall her mother’s face when they told her the wedding would be in Washington State. “But...we don’t even know anyone in Washington, Dana,” she’d said with a bemused expression, lamenting the length of their flights with a nine-month-old in tow.

Her mother’s reaction paled in comparison to Mulder’s excitement when she’d suggested the idea; she would spend their honeymoon relaxing with a book in the tub, and he could spend it traipsing through the woods looking for Sasquatch, or ‘squatchin’ as he called it. They would reunite in the afternoon, hiking, making love, catching up on all the conversations they’d missed while in the trenches of parenting a new baby. Mom would stay at the same resort with Molly so they could see her every day, while having precious nights to themselves; something they haven’t done since she was born.

She turns the tap on the bath, a blast of water thundering into the empty basin. When it’s full nearly to the brim, she disrobes and eases in, breathing deeply to inhale the juniper-scented steam, courtesy of the resort-provided bath salts. Closing her eyes, she thinks back over it all; their chance meeting, how she was drawn to him by a force that seemed to be bigger than them both, the anguish of wanting him but feeling like she owed it to Ethan to stay together. Her eyes snap open, a memory long-buried in the recesses of her mind springing forth like a trebuchet.

The day she met Mulder, she’d been planning to take the day off to go to a book signing for an author she admires. The signing was cancelled due to a scheduling conflict and she almost took the day off anyway, but had a last minute pang of guilt knowing that the workload that week was already heavy and Trudy would struggle to manage it all on her own. So she’d gone in, she’d performed that autopsy that should have been on Trudy’s docket, and she’d filled out the paperwork, and she’d met Mulder. How delicate the balance of the universe that such an insignificant choice completely changed the course of her life.

She suddenly misses him acutely, and a bundle of nerves and excitement flutters in her belly thinking about when she’ll see him next. She’d scoffed at the idea of them spending last night apart; they live together and have a child so the performative chastity seemed to be a bit much. He said it was like a fast, that a little time apart would make it even more special when they saw each other at the ceremony, and she ultimately acquiesced.

“Meet me on a mountain top at 4 o’clock tomorrow?” he’d asked as he backed out of her room, pulling away from the desperate kisses she was planting all over his face.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” she replied with a smile, and they said goodnight.

She smiles again, sinking down until the water slips into her ears. She can’t wait to marry him.

———

He sits up and arches his back, his spine protesting the cramped accommodations. Looking over at Byers and Missy curled up in the king size bed, he regrets his decision to crash on the couch here instead of staying with Scully in their room. Not only because he slept like shit with his legs hanging over the end, but also because work takes him away from his girls so often, he’s an idiot to add another day to it if he doesn’t have to.

He stands, hands on his hips as he twists to stretch his angry muscles, and walks to the window, taking in the dense green hills and valleys that surround them. He smiles, because she could have asked to go to Mexico, or France, or anywhere on the entire Earth and he would have given her what she wanted, but she chose the place she knew he wanted to go. Selfless and giving to a fault, his Scully. Soon to be his wife.

He quietly slips on his running shoes and sneaks out of the room, hitting the hard-packed dirt trail the concierge had told him about. The quiet forest is the perfect place to be alone with his thoughts, nothing but the thud of his feet striking the ground and the twitter of waking birds to distract him. He thinks about his life, about being a child who was lonely and alone, with parents who provided food and shelter but not much more. He thinks about Molly, and how she will never know that kind of pain, that there will never be a day of her life that she is not told how much she is loved. He wonders if his dad ever felt about his mom the way he feels about Scully, and he knows it’s not possible that he did, because if so they would still be together.

He comes to a break in the trees and pauses, breath heaving and lungs burning as he watches a hawk gliding through the valley below, hunting for breakfast. How easily he could have missed this moment, he thinks. Even one small change to the trajectory of his life, and he never would have walked into the autopsy bay that day. If the courier hadn’t been sick, if he hadn’t stopped by Kirkbride’s office when he did. Even further back, if he hadn’t stayed with the bureau with the X files were closed, if Valerie hadn’t been there to encourage him, or if he hadn’t met Valerie one random Tuesday at a record store. The path was long and winding, and it led to her. It led to him on this mountaintop in a sweat-soaked T-shirt, smiling at the thought of his baby daughter, his almost-wife.

He picks up running again, the smile staying on his lips. He’s always felt like he was running away; from his painful past, his regrets, his bad decisions. Now he realizes he’s running towards; his future, a thousand opportunities yet unseen, a kind of happiness he never thought he’d know. He can’t wait for the rest of his life to start.

———

He stands in a clearing near the edge of a cliff, the lush green landscape toeing up against the horizon looking like crooked teeth. Frohike stands beside him in khaki pants and a white linen shirt, a leather folio clasped in his hands. Mulder is also dressed fairly casually, in slacks and a blue Oxford shirt, the sleeves cuffed and the top button undone.

Scully wanted this to be as non-traditional as possible, to make it their own. There is no wedding party, no tuxedo, no flower girl or garter toss. No one will walk her down the aisle, as no one but herself has the ownership to give her away. The guests are small in number; immediate family only, plus the gunmen. Monica and Dahlia are house-sitting back in DC, minding Priscilla as well as the dog, King, that joined the family after the purchase of their house in March. Bucking the idea of arranging guests by whose “side” they are on, they all sit in a small cluster, and Scully will enter from the side.

He looks out and waves at Molly, who is standing on Missy’s lap, holding her hands and bouncing up and down forcefully. She squeals and shouts “dah, dah, dah!” which he chooses to interpret as “Daddy” even though Scully told him it’s just a nonsense syllable and doesn’t mean anything.

Langly gets the signal from Frohike and hits play on a small boom box, piping an instrumental version of “Can’t Help Falling in Love” up into the branches of the towering evergreen trees. He expected to feel nervous at this moment, but all he feels is excitement as Maggie scurries out from behind a line of trees and takes her place beside Bill, giving him a smile and a wink.

Scully appears from around the same group of trees and he grins broadly. He’s seen the dress, they picked it out together, but the full effect is stunning. Her hair, now grown well past her shoulder blades, is curled softly and pinned half up, brilliant red tendrils shimmering in the midday sun against her porcelain shoulders. Her dress is full length pearl satin, a slim sheath cut with off the shoulder straps. She is holding a small bouquet of pink peonies in her hands, and holding his eye with a playful smirk.

She arrives beside him and before the music stops, before Frohike has a chance to begin, he steps forward and takes her by the waist, kissing her fully. The guests laugh and he pulls away to see a confused smile on her face.

“I couldn’t wait,” he says simply.

They move through the ceremony, exchanging rings and vowing to love each other forever; promises they’ve already made to each other a hundred times. As they near the part that Scully understands to be the end, Frohike goes off script.

“Mulder has prepared some words of his own, he’ll read them now,” he says, nodding toward his friend.

Scully’s eyebrows lift in a surprised and confused expression.

“Mulder, we didn’t talk about writing our own vows,” she whispers, afraid she’s failed to complete the assignment.

“It’s okay, these are for both of us,” he whispers, and then, taking her hands in his, he reads a passage from her favorite book from memory.

“I have for the first time found what I can truly love; I have found you. You are my sympathy, my better self, my good angel; I am bound to you with a strong attachment. I think you good, gifted, lovely. A fervent, a solemn passion is conceived in my heart; it leans to you, draws you to my center and spring of life, wraps my existence about you, and kindling in pure, powerful flame, fuses you and me in one.”

The tear that slips down her cheek is borne only of happiness. She looks into his green eyes and sees contentment and love, and desire. It’s not a spark, what they have, nor an ember. It’s a wildfire, a white-hot torch, an eternal flame that binds them together inseparably. They were forged in fire the moment he laid eyes on her in that autopsy bay, maybe even before.

Frohike concludes, “by the power invested in me by the State of Washington, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride…again.”

He wraps his arms around her waist, lifting her up as he kisses her deeply, a gust of warm summer wind picking up pine needles and tossing them in a mini-tornado that surrounds them both. Molly squeals “dah dah dah!” and claps for her parents.

———

She stands at the mirror, brushing her teeth. Her hair is combed out, her makeup removed, the white dress hanging in the corner of the room with the hem now tinged brown from the dirt that served as their dance floor.

Mulder appears behind her, an arm snaking around the waist of her satin nightgown. She smiles at the sight of his newly ring-adorned hand pressed flat against her belly, then leans forward to rinse.

“Ready for bed?” he asks softly, and she nods.

They slip beneath the cool sheets, curling around one another face-to-face; her leg threaded between his, his arms around her back, foreheads touching. She draws in a big breath and lets it out slowly, contentment settling deep in her bones.

“Do you ever think about all the things that had to happen in exactly the way they did to lead us here?” he asks, and she pulls back a little to look at his face.

“Yes, I was actually just thinking about that earlier,” she says with a curious lilt.

“Makes you wonder, huh, what lives we’d be leading if even just one detail were changed,” he says, tracing his finger along her shoulder blade.

“I don’t think it would have mattered, actually,” she says, and he gives her a quizzical look, silently asking her to elaborate. “I know this will sound a little far-fetched coming from me,” she begins with a self-conscious smile, “but I think it was always going to end up this way. Even if we hadn’t met when we did, we would have crossed paths some other way. Looking back over everything, it just seems like this was meant to be the outcome, even if the path to get here could have gone in a lot of different directions.”

He ponders this, remembering a conversation they had over coffee when, against all odds, she reappeared in his life.

“Like there was only one choice, and signs along the way to pay attention to,” he says contemplatively, lifting his hand to brush a lock of hair behind her ear.

“Exactly,” she replies, pressing her lips to his briefly, “it was always going to be you.”

END

[blanknamed]

trial and error pt. 3 [senku x reader]

I had a lot of issues writing this chapter for some reason. I think I ran out of creativity for a good few weeks so I kinda struggled trying to keep Senku in character. I really just wanted to get the third chapter out though so I hope you like it!

SHIPPING: SENKU X READER

PREMISE: [Name] had always known Senku was a little bit of an oddball but that’s what made him so interesting to her as children. Now in the Stone World, he’s only even more interesting what with his claims about shooting up to a million years worth of technology back, but some things never change with him; specifically on the concept of love. As a way to get him to think about it as something other than “disgusting feelings” she proposes for him to think of it differently, though it seems to be going in a direction she never expected.

PART ONE - PART TWO - PART THREE

{–*–}

CHAPTER THREE: FINDINGS

He was standing near his base by the time [Name] was done. From the looks of it, he had tried to dress up as well, even if it looked like the littlest effort was made. His hair stayed as big as it was, but what seemed to be a makeshift bowtie was settled on his neck (albeit lopsided, but [Name] didn’t really expect much from him in the first place).

“Jeez, who dressed you up, the local village boys?” She asked once she was within hearing range with Senku.

Scowling, Senku only shook his head. Flicking the strip of rag around his neck, he said, "Chrome and the bumbling fools of guards obviously haven't gone on dates before."

"I don't think you have much room to talk. Besides I’m pretty sure that was obvious," [Name] replied humorously, remembering when Ginro couldn't even look her straight in the eye during her and Senku's first few months at the village. "Why would you ask them of all people anyways?"

Senku raised his eyebrow, as if finding the question peculiar. "Who should I have asked?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe the married men in the village?" [Name] suggested, watching as Senku furrowed his brows even more. Giggling, she shoved his shoulder. "So much for being a genius. What, were you so nervous to go on this date with me you forgot something as simple as retrieving data from the most obvious people?"

Senku rolled his eyes. "I'm busy with other things--saving the world from going back another thousand years in society, being one of them.” He reasoned as he turned his head away from her.

[Name] only laughed at him, pushing him to forward so they can start walking towards the woods. “Let’s just get this date other with, shall we? You didn’t forget to plan, I’m presuming?"

“Of course I didn’t. Do you take me for some idiot or something?” Senku asked as he peered at the younger girl, who only gave him a knowing look. Instantly, he shook his head. “No don’t answer that. It was a rhetorical question.”

“Oh, I don’t know…” [Name] trailed off. “Remember when you were so caught up in one of your projects you ended up putting too much laundry detergent in your washing machine?”

That day had been burned into her memory--it had probably been the only time she’d seen Senku visibly panic over something so mundane. They were helplessly watching the washing machine shake violently and become a soapy mess in it’s little area for almost an hour until Byakuya came home to a disgustingly sweet smelling hallway and two elementary school children covered in bubbled up laundry detergent from head to toe. 

“Don’t remind me; I smelled like laundry detergent for two months.” Senku muttered.

“It was funny, though. Definitely took thoughts away from my dad and brother.” [Name] replied happily. She didn’t need to turn her head to see that Senku had immediately spun his head toward her at the mention of her father.

A warm silence followed between them, no doubt Senku was thinking of something to say--should he say something about it? Should he brush it off? Senku had known [Name] enough to know that, while he never took anything like emotions too seriously, she wasn’t exactly emotionally attached to much either. He didn’t doubt for a second that [Name] thought about her family during those late night preparations she partook with him when Kohaku or Chrome couldn’t stay up past the 20th hour like they did.

He also didn’t doubt that she had done the same thing he had done once she thought her family over--understand the probabilities of seeing her mother and finding her father and brother’s grave were most likely slim and choosing to focus the task at hand: saving the world from total chaos at the hands of Tsukasa and his wildlings. So, she kept it silent, just like she always did.

Should I even mention anything about that? He wondered to himself as he helped her walk down a narrow junction between some large trees. They’d known each other long enough to understand each other without much verbal communication. Even after not having much contact once Senku entered middle school along with the whole thousands of years of being petrified in time, they still had a weird connection with each other. Maybe that was why he decided to free [Name] of her stony confindes; no one else could read his mind or understand what he’s thinking like she does.

Whatever route he took, it wouldn’t be awkward, he finally concluded when they reached the river. He let [Name] hop on the rocks that stood above the water before following suit. “Right, that was the day they got into that car accident.” He stated once they reached the other side.

[Name] hummed. “Mom was stuck at the hospital all day and wanted to take me with her; I couldn’t bear the smell there. It was too clean. So I went to your place thinking you might need something since you’re so useless--OW!” She rubbed her head as she glared over at Senku, who looked the other way, acting as if he hadn’t just slapped the back of her head so hard it made her hair flip over her head. “Anyways, I thought you needed me for something and apparently you did, but I don’t think an eight year old could have done much if a ten year old couldn’t do anything except stand around and watch the mess. It was funny, though. Mom and I laughed about it after a few years.”

“Glad to know my endless suffering and pure shock brought joy.” Senku said sarcastically, though [Name] could pick up the light heartedness behind it.

Elbowing him lightly so he can turn to look at her, [Name] smiled at him. “Well just so you know every time I think of the dad and brother, I also think of you with a bubble beard right after.”

Senku, for a moment, felt something turn before he wrinkled his nose. “Did you just family zone me? During a date?” He asked disgustedly. It was his turn to get a slap on the back of his head.

“Seriously? That’s what you took away from that?” [Name] asked, irritated. She decided to look forward as they kept walking, however it seemed as though they walked mindlessly through endless amount of trees. “Where are we going anyways?”

“Just a few more feet. There’s a clearing close by; I think you’d like it.” Senku said as he nudged her forward.

[Name] covered her eyes as she began to notice leaves becoming lower and lower to the point that she had to duck and sometimes even squat to get through some spaces. Man, if I knew this would happen, I would’ve worn something besides this kind of dress, she thought reluctantly as she watched the ends and edges of the dress get dirtied. Still, she persisted as she had been curious as to what the clearing had looked like. She hadn’t gone so far in terms of exploring for the past few weeks; winter was coming and Senku needed every available person possible to help prep the village for the freezing season. She spent hours lining and sewing furs onto their cloaks and coats to the point that she left little prick marks on her hands permanently.

“Okay, we’re here.” Senku announced once they both managed to stand again. Shaking a few leaves away from her head, [Name] looked up to see a green clearing, like Senku said. However, he never said how… Ethereal it was. Wild flowers, ones she vaguely recognized to be new versions of flowers from the past, spread across the spanse of the field. Lightning bugs flicked and glowed every now and then, being the main source of light besides the makeshift lantern Senku was currently crafting beside her.

“Whoa,” was [Name]’s only response. “Don’t tell you found this last minute just for a date, Senku.”

A snicker followed right after. “No. I found it a few months ago when trying to collect foxtail millet for the noodles. Let’s keep walking, though. This isn’t what I wanted you to see.”

It’s not? [Name] thought as she let Senku lead her further past the clearing, walking around the flowers as best as possible. The walk was silent, which surprised [Name] since Senku sometimes never did keep his mouth shut when it came to his little experiments. Could it be he's taking this date more seriously than she expected? She let that thought cross her mind as she watched him walk ahead of her. Not possible. If anything, he might just be keeping things a secret since I'm the test subject. [Name] thought to herself. Why would he even take this seriously in the first place?

"Look I know this is a date and all, but could you not glare at me?" Senku finally piped up, looking at his companion warily. "You look like you're about to plot my murder?"

"Who said I haven't already?" [Name] quipped, finally shaking herself from her thoughts. "Anyways, where did you take us, Casanova?"

She laughed as she watched Senku's face scrunch up in disgust at his nickname. He opened his mouth, ready to spew an insult before he stopped himself, staring at the shorter girl. Sighing, he just waved a hand forward. "Look above you."

"Above…?" [Name] questioned as she craned her neck. She sucked in a breath as she looked at the lightened sky above her. Of course, she's had plenty of nights where she stood outside to marvel at the stars and sky--she had never seen it so bright pre-petrification. She had thought that was the brightest and clearest she'd ever seen when she was in Senku's observation tower. 

That is, until today.

"It's so… So…" [Name] started, but couldn't quite put her words together. She felt Senku brush up against her shoulder as he finished for her.

"Beautiful." He complimented as he stared up as well. 

The sky was littered with various shades of purples, pinks, and blues. There wasn’t a coud in sight, which allowed the stars to litter across the dark plain above them. Faintly, she can make out certain constellations, pointing out the ones she wasn’t too sure to her companion, who nodded in confirmation to all of them.

"Who knew we'd get to see the sky as non-polluted as this." Senku said as they continued to keep watch over the sky.

"You took the words right out of my mouth." [Name] laughed. "I thought the observation tower was something else, but you really outdid yourself here, Senku. I didn't even expect you to walk this far without having you get carried by Chrome or something."

"Killing the mood." Senku replied, flicking her forehead, though [Name] made sure to take notice of his shortened breath he tried to hide. She pretended to feign ignorance even further when she let him walk behind her, catching his breath behind some bushes and then shuffling around until he finally brought a basket out.

"Suika should've given better instructions on where to find this thing." The spiky haired scientist said. "It looked like it got buried under a bunch of dirt instead of sitting plain out in the open like she said."

Senku opened the lid, raising an eyebrow as he pulled out two bowls of his notorious green ramen, wrapped tightly in large leaves to keep it from spilling. With it came a makeshift picnic blanket (though, it just looked like old scraps of dresses sewn together over the years; no doubt Suika had asked one of the older village women if she can borrow it). Together, they worked to keep the blanket down, placing heavy rocks at the corners to keep it from flicking upward since the wind picked up a little stronger from where they placed themselves.

"This ramen tastes gross." Senku groaned once he settled down, though it didn't stop him from continuing to eat it. [Name] only rolled her eyes as she ate it herself (though she did have to agree with Senku; the ramen was gross, but she put up with it anyways), basking in the windy air.

“I’m surprised you haven’t said anything yet about the information you’ve gathered for this date,” [Name] said. “Usually you relay the data to me once you get it all down."

“Can’t exactly tell the subject about the data I’m gathering about them.”

“Oh but you’re dying to tell me, aren’t you?” [Name] pushed. Truth be told, she was more curious on just how exactly he thought of the experiment. Sure, she had been the one to suggest it, but she had zero idea on what his plans are--what were his variables? Was he gathering information? Was he including numbers or was all of this just pure observation? There was no doubt in her mind that someone was observing them as well; most likely Kohaku since she’s better off at hiding and watching without being noticed once.

“Maybe. I’ll tell you after I’m done with this whole experiment.” Senku replied as he took a sip of the water packaged with them before handing it off to her. [Name] took it graciously, taking a few sips as she thought about his wording.

Quirking up her eyebrow curiously, she asked, “Wouldn’t that be tonight?”

“No.”

“No?”

“No,” Senku confirmed. “You think one night will determine this whole thing? It might take more days actually--a few weeks even. I’ll gather all my information, relay it to you, and then confirm whether or not love is just a construct of emotions for me. Which it will be, from the information I’ve gathered.”

[Name] watched him in disbelief. There was no way she actually heard that correctly. Weeks? How’s that going to work? Would I even last a few weeks managing to go on more dates with this idiot? She questioned. “Wha-- I-- Don’t you have a grandiose plan that requires all your time and attention?”

She only received a shrug as an answer. What the hell does that even mean? She questioned herself as [Name] watched Senku stretch. He was the one repulsed by the idea of going on a date. Why would he extend this to weeks? She let herself wonder, pulling all the probable possibilities as to why he decided it so suddenly. Sure, Senku was right about not being able to gather enough information from just one date, but he could have easily just done one or two more nights of their little experiment dates instead of presuming it down to a matter of weeks.

Finally it finally hit [Name]: he was hiding something. What it was exactly, she’s not entirely sure, though she knew Senku was probably planning something stupid that could most likely put him in danger, or worse killed, which in turn would cause her to intercept and talk him out of it. He was probably using this date shenanigans to distract her from his death inducing plans.

Squinting her eyes at him, she decided to hold back on her on findings. After all, if he isn’t bothering to tell her what he’s gathering on her, she’ll do the same. Instead, she sighed, opting to make it seem as if she should have known. “You’re unbelievable.” [Name] replied.

“Oh, I know. That’s what gets you on your toes right?”

PREVIOUS PART - NEXT PART

[boldlyvoid]

Amoreena | chapter twelve

Chapter Twelve

main summary: Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.

Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.

Chapter Warnings: spencers mom has a bad day at the doctor's and so spencer thinks he's going to have a bad day too but he ends up having the best day of his entire life.

talk of pregnancy, celebratory sex, oral (female receiving), grinding, no penetration, serious deep talks after sex about their most depressive episodes, sharing trauma and making sure they know the other is loved regardless of what goes on in their mind. it's a rough one so read with caution

word count: 4.5K

from the beginning <3

He was up before Amoreena, awaking for the second time that morning to the sound of his alarm, kissing Y/N on the forehead before leaving their bed, she simply laid there and watched him get ready.

Most of his clothes were here now, every time he was near his apartment he brought more and more things home with him. Because that wasn’t his home, it hadn’t been for a long time, even when he lived there it was just a trove of books and a bed he slept on occasionally.

They were probably going to move all his stuff over in the summer, after the second wedding… after the girls meet Taylor, and hopefully when Y/N’s actually pregnant and not too sick or tired to help.

“Come here,” she whispers before he can slip out of the room, “kiss your wife.”

He can’t help but smile as he bounds towards the bed, jumping in and wrapping her up in his arms. He smothers her face in kisses, making her laugh, still half asleep as she let him manhandle her.

“I love you,” he reminded her.

“We love you too,” she replied with a smile, answering for Amoreena even though she was still asleep down the hall, “don’t wake her up yet, she needs all her rest for today.”

“I’ll be quiet,” he responds with a smile, kissing her again before he finally gets out of the bed, if not he would have stayed there forever.

He tiptoes down the hall and into Amoreena’s room, kissing her sweet little forehead lightly before exiting just as quietly. It was like he was never there.

He snuck down the stairs quietly, locked the door behind himself on the way out, and took off down the driveway in his old blue Volvo amazon, paying extra attention to the path for any kitties or Rufus out on their morning strolls.

It didn’t take long for a happy day to go sour when he was in a doctor's office with his mom. Those were the worst places he could go with her, especially on a bad day. Her mind was playing tricks on her, she really didn’t like hospitals or government buildings, even lawyers' offices stressed her out.

Today she was convinced he wasn’t really her son, Spencer, and that he was actually leading her to be a government experiment. It was hard to see her struggle, especially on a day they needed to ask her serious questions while she sat still. It was the fact she had to stay awake for 24 hours that triggered the episode, the EEG requiring her mind to be deprived of sleep. It was rough, she barely knew him. They wouldn’t have the test results for a while but he already knew it wasn’t good.

He dropped her back off at the home as quickly as he could, not able to deal with the verbal abuse any longer, he didn’t even say goodbye. The woman he dropped off was his mother on the outside but not on the inside today. It was really hard to look at her and know her, but not see that same look in her eyes.

By the time he’s returning to the farm, it’s 11:45 and he’s exhausted.

He finds Y/N in the bedroom, lying in bed in just a t-shirt and her underwear, completely sound asleep with the blankets thrown off the bed. She looks so beautiful, he slips out of his clothes to match her, sliding into bed beside her and just looking at her perfect face.

He presses a kiss to her shoulder that startles her awake, “oh god, Spencer!” she places her hand on her heart as she calms down.

“Sorry,” he smiles, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her in closer.

“How’s your mom?” Her tired words meet his ears and his smile dies.

“Not great, really don’t want to talk about it yet,” he was honest with her, snuggling in closer as she hummed in agreement to drop it. “How was Amoreena’s morning?”

“I told Amoreena I wouldn’t tell you, but I don’t need to you to freak out in front of all the kids or cry or pass out in front of all them, but there’s a positive pregnancy test on her all about me project,” she explains it like she’s about to say it’s just Amoreena’s from 8 years ago…

He pulls back slowly, looking into her eyes as she smiles wider and wider, “you’re pregnant?”

She nods her head as her smile gets bigger and toothier, she’s wrapping her arms around him so tight it’s like he can’t breathe for multiple reasons.

“We did it, Spencer, I made you a daddy again,” the words carry from her mouth in a beautiful tune.

He’s holding her back so gently, afraid to squeeze too hard and hurt her and the tiny little life that’s starting inside her. He’s silent, overjoyed but absolutely dumbstruck at the fact it’s real. A month ago he thought about walking into traffic after work and just seeing what happened, now he was a father of 2 with a wife and a happy farm and a life that was good.

A life he deserved.

All thanks to a beautiful little girl with an interest in dinosaurs and making new friends. Amoreena was an angel sent from heaven, improving both of their lives greatly, and now they were making another.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, oh my god yes, I’m just,” he didn’t know what words to say and it was evident. “Amoreena knows?”

She nodded softly, “she now knows girl parts make eggs, boy parts make sperm, and that adults have sex but you can only make a baby at 25, she really didn’t seem to be all that interested in the science, but she’s excited to be a big sister.”

“Wow,” it all caught up to him then, he placed his hand on her stomach softly, “hi little one.”

Y/N laid back against the bed, pulling her shirt up so he could see the barely-there bump, “It’s mostly leftover’s from Amoreena, but yeah, there’s another one in there.”

He couldn’t help himself from running his hands over the curve of her stomach, thinking about Amoreena being in there once upon a time and how tiny she must have been. It was even weirder to think that a part of her was once even in him.

“It’s strange to think that I jerked off into a cup and you made the most perfect kid on earth with it… it just feels like it doesn’t add up. She’s so perfect I can’t believe she was once a part of us both,” he can’t help but let his inner monologue seep out, she didn’t mind it, she loved hearing how his mind worked.

“I can’t wait to see you holding this little one,” her hands joined his on her stomach, the shape of her forefingers and thumbs making a heart over her bare belly.

Spencer leaned in and kissed right in the middle, beside her belly button, in love with whoever was in there already.

“Amoreena had a dream last night too,” Y/N cuts into his little moment, “guess how many sisters she said she had.”

“8?” Spencer can’t help but smile.

She nods, “I don’t know what it is about this house but the good dreams always come true, who knows how many babies are in there right now.”

“I hope just one for now,” he says in all honesty, “I really want time with just one little one, you and Amoreena. A family of four for a bit and then the twins, that’s how it was in the dream.”

“Did they have names?”

“You called them Elly, Junie, tho and Cordelia, and you said there were 3 sets of twins, two after Cordelia,” he remembers it all as if he was really there, whispering all the words against her stomach, his cheek resting on the band of her underwear as he laid between her legs with his arms around her.

“Amoreena, Elizabeth, Juniper, Theodora, and Cordelia were all the options I was choosing from last time,” she says with the widest smile, “how the heck did your mind know that?”

“It felt very real, which is why I was so worried about where I was, I don’t know how I could have missed anything but now I know that part was just my anxiety,” Spencer rationalized it. “Amoreena probably had the better version of that future in her dream last night.”

“I was having a great dream before you came back,” she teases him, running her fingers through his hair as he continues to kiss her stomach.

He loops his fingers around the band of her underwear, sliding it down just low enough to really kiss where that baby of his is hiding out. She lifts her hips into the contact, letting him slip them down her legs and completely off, she spreads her legs even more.

He takes his time pressing a kiss to every single inch of her, her skin is soft, her leg hair is prickly on his hands and his cheeks but it’s nice, he rubs his face against her like a cat marking his territory as she continued to scratch his scalp.

He spread her open with two fingers, he presses a soft kiss to her clitoris and all the way down to her opening before licking a wet stripe up the sensitive skin. The moan she releases is the loudest one he’s heard on her yet, it was really the first time he’s been allowed to really enjoy her.

“It’s important for your partner to help with the stretching in the third trimester,” she teases him, “but they don’t mention anything about starting too early being a bad thing.”

“I don’t want to disrupt anything in there,” he worries aloud, letting her decide if it’s okay.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she laughed, “I don’t think you’d reach them, but if you’re really worried there are other ways to help.”

“Such as,” he asks, lowering his face back down to her wet heat, continuing to explore her with his tongue as he expects her to talk.

“You, um you can, shit, wow,” she props herself up on her elbows to get a better look at what he’s doing as she stalls for a few minutes, “just rub yourself over me, Spencer please, I want more of you.”

She grips him by his cheeks and pulls him up into a kiss, both of them rushing to push his boxers down and off his legs, she spreads her own once more so he can press against her.

His hard cock resting flat against her, rubbing back and forth as he spreads her wetness around with him. The head gliding over her clit just the right way as she held him close to her body, kissing down his neck and sucking marks all over his chest.

She was desperate for him and who was he to deprive her, so he rocked into her more, grinding down harder against her body and making her shaking lightly. It felt better, more intimate, more euphoric than any other sex he’s had, just being close to her had him on the edge faster than he expected to get there.

She’s chanting his name then, head tossed back against the pillow as she digs her fingers into his asscheeks, holding him so close to him he can feel her orgasm rush through her. She stills, bucking up into him one last time as he finishes all across her stomach.

His hands are curled around her cheeks then, holding her perfect face in his hands as he hovers over her, using everything in his power to not crush her or the baby. He’s trying so hard to steady his breathing, so is she, they just smile at each other, laughing lightly at how in love they are.

“I love you,” he says on impulse, “you’re so good to me.”

“Look at all the good you’ve given me,” she whispers, “it would be wrong for me not to love you for everything you’ve done for me, whether you were aware of it or not.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not going to tell you about my depression while your cum dries between us like glue,” she laughed at how crude it sounded.

He laughs lightly too, rolling off her to see just how much of a mess they made. “Tell me in the shower?”

“Seems appropriate,” she agreed, taking his hand and following him into the bathroom.

He loved the old feel of her bathroom, the green linoleum and floral wallpaper, the pink towels and bright orange shower curtain, it was happy and bright and the perfect place to laugh for half an hour as they washed each other.

She has him pressed against the shower wall then, water trickling over them gently as she stares into his eyes, “I don’t know how to say it without it coming out really scary,” she finally resumes the conversation they were about to have in the bedroom.

“I’ve probably been in the same mental state, I’m not going to judge your method of choice,” he explains it in a way that she’ll know he really, really gets it.

“I had a few suicidal thoughts when my grandma went to chemo before I chose your sample and before I did all the hormones, I was thinking why should I stay and bring another life into my misery when I could just die first and not have to see her go through that anymore,” she sucks her bottom lip into her mouth as she stops, letting him digest all the words.

“Did you try anything?” He’s not sure why he’s asking.

She shakes her head, the best no he’s ever seen in his life. “My grandma noticed on my birthday when I wasn't coming down for breakfast like normal, I was really depressed and so we went out and talked and had lunch together for the first time in forever cause she wasn't feeling sick, I’ll never forget it. It was the best and worst birthday of my life.”

“I’m the worst husband ever,” he says, taking her by surprise, “I don’t even know your birthday.”

It makes her laugh, taking her out of the sadness as she realizes he really doesn’t judge her, he gets it completely. “January 16th, 1986, three minutes after Evan,” she manages to say it with a smile.

“That’s the date Maeve died,” both of them stare at each other in shock, wondering just how many other coincidences they had out there to figure out.

“How many days after did you donate?”

“On the 19th,” he confirmed without taking a breath, “holy shit.”

“We both were suicidal on the same day,” she covers her mouth with a wet slap, laughing at the worst thing she’s ever said, it’s the shock and the emotions of everything catching up to her right then and there.

“Oh my god,” he laughs in response, both of them laughing as they hugged in the corner of her green shower. “we are fucked up.”

“Soulmate things,” she shrugged, holding him even tighter.

He wished she could see his face then, the looking that overcame him as he heard the word soulmates. She just called him her soulmate. He licks his lips, taking it all in and almost hyperventilating, she can feel the way his breathing changes as she looks up with concern.

“What?”

He shakes the thoughts out, swallowing sharply as he makes eye contact with her, “nothing.”

“No, I know that look Spencer, what did your brain say to you this time? I will go in there and kick its ass,” she pokes his forehead then, threatening his anxiety to fuck off.

“I never thought I’d get to hear someone say that to me, it’s stupid,” he felt too vulnerable suddenly, sky and closed off.

“Who hurt you?” She asks in complete curiosity, wanting to know why he can’t imagine someone loving him.

“My parents,” it slips out before he can catch it, “I love my mom. I always have to preface that, she did what she could but it was nowhere near enough. I don’t hold anything against her, I just hate that that’s how it was, that she had bad days at all because they always shine brighter in my memory than the good days.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pushed you,” she worries this time, seeing the hurt on his face and feeling like she fucked up, he can read her micro-expressions easier than anyone else.

“I would have told you soon enough, my dad left because of my mom's illness and he made sure I knew he didn’t want me. I don’t care that he kept up with me on the internet, the fact he didn’t even care to let me know he lived 10 miles from me my whole life makes me feel sick. I was 14 point 6 miles away from Amoreena this whole time and I would give all my fucking organs to go back in time and be with her from day 1, I don’t get how he could just not love me?” The rant comes out of his mouth for the first time ever, the same thoughts that have been there building for 40 years bursting at the seam.

She reaches behind them to turn off the water then, stepping away from him while he cools down a bit, “Yeah, no I get it, I hate him too now. That's so fucked up, honey, I'm so sorry.”

It makes him huff out a laugh, “I’m sorry, you’re not my therapist you don’t have to deal with all that.”

“I’m your wife, I deal with that regardless. In sickness and in health remember?” She reminds him, “depression is just as real of an illness as cancer. I don’t want you to keep these thoughts from me. I want to know about every paper cut, every splinter, every bad thought that crosses that beautiful mind because I love you.”

“As long as you always remember that too,” he makes sure that she knows he feels the same. “Don’t keep anything from me thinking it’ll ruin the happy atmosphere of this kingdom, Amoreena would tell you that a castle is only as strong as its weakest brick. If you crack we all tumble.”

“My foundations are strong, if not Derek’s a renovator right?” She raised her eyebrows, making another joke. They were always going to be okay.

“Speaking of, how are we going to house all 12 of these children you plan on having?”

"We, smartie pants, we are having," she tosses the shower curtain out of the way then, stepping out and wrapping herself in a towel, “I was thinking we add a few more rooms, nanny and pop were always adding on to this place, it would be nice to fix it up a bit.”

“I can see if Derek wants to help, or we can find a contractor?”

“Well, Alli still has another 8 weeks till her baby comes, so you might as well do something with Derek here in that time,” she agrees with a smile, “my nanny left everything to me, so I have a decent amount saved still for whatever you guys think the house can handle, I just want it done safely, and it has to match.”

She was bossy, he loved every second of it. “Yes ma’am,” he smiles as he steps out, drying off beside her.

Y/N couldn’t stop smiling at him as she watched him fluff his curly wet hair in the mirror, “how would you like to go out and get our first kid a big sister present before the graduation?”

“We never had a chance to read on Saturday, would you want to get her a big sister book and read at the tree?” Spencer suggests, making eye contact with her reflection in the mirror, even backwards she’s beautiful.

She nods with a smile, “sounds great, daddy.”

He wraps his arms around her before she can leave the room, kissing her neck and shoulder as she squirms, trying to get away from him but failing on purpose. “Spencer, seriously we have to go.”

“Then don’t call me daddy,” he whispers in her ear, and he can physically feel the way it excites her.

“We will revisit this later,” she says with a stern look as she pulls away finally, dropping the towel on purpose as she walks towards her new closet.

She was going to be the death of him, and hopefully, that wasn’t for a long time. Hopefully, he thought right then and there, that the moment he finally does die, he dies is beside her. Happily in his sleep, as they’re in their 90’s, and in a perfect world she’d slip away with him.

“Can I ask a dumb question?” He rushes the words out, taking her up on that offer of hearing all the bad thoughts.

“Always,” she smiles.

“When we get to heaven, stay with me? Pick me instead of Stephen for the forever part?” He’s not sure why he’s crying, or why he’s thinking about it. But it’s where his mind went and she said she’d always follow.

She tilts her head to the side, dropping her shoulders as she sighs, “we can set Stephen and Maeve up with each other.”

It makes him smile, she always knew what to say. “Who knows, they could be the reason all this happened.”

She nods then, “I like the thought of that, they deserve to be happy together, I’m sure they would like each other.”

He really believed they were soulmates then, that something bigger set up all these dominoes and he was so excited to watch them fall. To see where they landed, the beautiful pattern that they would reveal. The wonderful world he was creating with her was always going to be amazing because something greater than them said so.

—

She looked more beautiful than he’s ever seen her as they rolled up to the school. She was physically glowing, her hair was perfect, her dress laid over her stomach in the right way that he could see proof she was with child, even if she called it leftovers from the last one. It was his favourite part of her, it was where she made the best person they knew.

They walked around to the back gate, hand in hand, smiling wide as they walked into the little classroom. There were balloons and streamers everywhere, they had little cupcakes all set up and all of them were in matching blue caps and gowns.

Amoreena waved at them when she saw them, not allowed to leave her seat from where they were practicing their ceremony. It was unbelievably adorable, Spencer couldn’t help but be that Dad who took a million photos on his cellphone. He was never going to miss another moment.

JJ wrapped her arm around him sneakily, startling him as she hugged him, “hello Spencer Reid, father and husband,” she teased him. “Still weird thinking of you as a dad.”

He wanted to tell her, but she’d know soon anyway once she saw the all about me project, “shit,” Y/N says from behind him as she realizes too. “Tell her.”

“We’re having another one,” Spencer whispers in JJ’s ear before she can even react.

She smacks his side as she pulls back, staring at him with her mouth wide open. The same face Henry made when he saw Y/N for the first time, completely shocked and nervous, “oh my god?”

He nodded, “we’re not telling anyone, I was supposed to find out on her all about me project but she didn’t want me to pass out in front of all the kids.”

It made JJ laugh, shrugging as she agreed with the idea, she pulled away from him and wrapped Y/N up in her arms, hugging her ever so softly. Y/N closed her eyes and pressed their cheeks together as she accepted the thank you, knowing JJ was just happy to see Spencer succeed.

She placed a hand on Y/N’s tummy before pulling away fully, “I always hoped I’d see the day where Spencer made a little genius, I still can’t believe Amoreena is his sometimes, that hasn’t really hit me yet, but this… this is real. I’m so happy for you.”

Y/N cried a little, wiping her eyes as she laughed it off, “okay, sorry this is a big day for me, my first baby is graduating, this baby is trying to grow a heartbeat, it’s all a lot.”

“I get it, believe me,” JJ agreed, placing her hand on Y/N’s lover back and holding her close to her side. Bonding in that moment, making Spencer’s heart swell.

“Where’s the cowboy?” She changed the subject, looking for Will.

“Oh there’s a case in Kentucky, I missed Henry’s graduation, so I’m here for Michaels while he’s on the case, it’s only fair,” she explained with a smile, content with how their life and relationship worked.

“Do you want to sit with us?” Y/N offered, pointing at the folding chairs, taking a seat with JJ in the front, sitting between her and Spencer so she could talk to both of them before the ceremony.

It was lovely having them become friends, his first love and the last one he'd ever have.

They passed out tissues (thank god) before the ceremony, Y/N and Spencer both using at least 5 as they watched Amoreena get her tiny scroll of paper, move the string on her hat to the other side and then wave at them. Spencer took at least 100 photos of her, unable to stop how proud he felt that he made her.

What Amoreena failed to mention was that she was chosen to be the class valedictorian, surprising them with a tiny speech at an even tinier podium. It was so cute, both Spencer and JJ recorded it to remember for later.

“My class chose me to talk to everyone because I’m the oldest, lots of my classmates like to think of me as an older sister,” she smiled right at her parents, hinting at the fact she knew when she thought Spencer didn’t yet.

So he played along, looking surprised at the word choice.

“I’ve had the best two years with all my friends in this classroom, Miss Kennedy was the nicest women they could pick to make sure we learned everything we need to before grade school starts,” her words were definitely chosen by her, possibly reworded by her teacher but definitely from her heart.

“My mom taught me the alphabet, she taught me how to spell and count, she taught me lots of things that miss Kennedy taught in here, at first it was hard being the kid who knew more, but then it was fun getting to help everyone else learn,” she continued with the most enthusiastic voice, going off-script as she thought of more. “My dad, though, he’s taught me how special our family is. How special it is to get to meet new people and learn about the world with them, I’m so glad my parents made me so I could learn with all of you these past 2 years.”

All the parents were crying, she was able to touch the hearts of everyone around her. At the age of 7, she was more well-spoken, more understanding and grateful than any of the adults in that room.

“I’ll see you all on the big kid yard next year!” She cheered, jumping up and down and clapping, all her friends rushed to the stage for a big group hug.

His little girl was so unbelievably loved, the way she deserved.

tag list: @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @spookyspence @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187

[diavolosthots]

Could you make a fic with Simeon about mc’s strict religious parents? I’m so curious about that

Bro I'm curious about this one too 👀 lets see what I came up with

Warning: religion, mainly christianity

Truly an Angel ( SIMEON X GN!READER )

Finally, a boyfriend you knew your parents would approve of. Simeon was the perfect description of what your strict religious parents would want for you, and the fact that he was literally an angel, a warrior of God, made it so much better. Of course, they didn’t need to know that, but they would already be swooning over his name, and that’s enough to get you at least halfway smirking. “What’s that face for, (Y/N)?” His hand was squeezing yours tightly, a soft smile playing on his lips as he looked down at you. “I’m just… for once in my life I’m not nervous about my boyfriend meeting my parents.” You shrugged, continuing the short walk to the restaurant where you’d be meeting your parents, almost too giddy. 

Simeon laughed softly, his eyes closing with the smile that followed, “I feel honored you feel so confident in my ability to woo your parents. No worries, I will be my best self.” You smiled up at him, swaying your arm with his, “I have no doubt, Simeon. You’re anything and everything someone could ask for.” He only squeezed your hand at that, trying to avoid you having to see how nervous he got from that comment, “I’ll be honest, (Y/N), I’m not too worried if they like me or not, not yet at least. They should be more worried about whether or not you’re happy, not too concerned with who I am.” 

You stared at the ground, stopping in front of the restaurant, “well,... you make me happy, so thus they need to like you too. Where would be without my angel?” There was no time to see Simeon’s reaction as you walked in, dragging him behind you to the table your parents were sitting at. Smiles spread across both their faces as they saw you and who you brought along, your mother immediately giving you the ‘wow, he’s a catch.’ look before pulling you in for a hug, “My dear (Y/N)! We missed you.” Meanwhile your dad held out his hand for Simeon, who took it gently with a smile, “nice to meet you, sir.” Your father returned the smile, pulling his hand back and patting Simeon on the back, “sit down, son. We need to work on your handshake, but so far so good.” 

You shook your head at your father’s comment, switching parent’s with him and watching your mom move in for a hug. Simeon wrapped his arms around her almost too gently before taking her hand and kissing the back of it, like a true gentleman. Your mother looked behind her at you and then your father, “you never do that.” A chuckle erupted from you and Simeon smiled softly, unsure of how to actually respond; he just tried to be nice. “Are you out for my wife and my child?” Simeon shook his head with a soft laugh, “no sir, just your child.” You sat down, sitting between your dad, who sat beside your mother, and Simeon. “Tell me, what was your name again?” Simeon looked at your dad, blue eyes holding a playful glint, “My apologies, I must have forgot to mention; my name is Simeon. Nice to meet you.” 

You saw your mother practically swoon over him and you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, “mom! He’s mine, stop being weird.” The call out got your mother embarrassed as she quickly avoided eye contact, “Sorry dear. You just really caught the best fish in the sea. I don’t mean to sound weird, Simeon, but you look absolutely angelic.” Oh how true that was. Simeon only smiled, nodding at your mother, “thank you. If you don’t mind, you look quite lovely yourself.” “Hey! What did I say about hitting on my wife?” Your dad tried to be stern, but in all honesty, he erupted into a fit of laughter too, “I’m just kidding. Please, choose anything from the menu. I already like you.” 

The dinner went as smoothly as it could. Your mom was still swooning, giving you side eyed glances as Simeon talked and vaguely discussed his family and upbringing, along with his writing career, and your dad for once seemed to actually like one of the men you brought home, which in turn made you happy as well. “Seems like you’re quite the catch. Say, are you religious at all?” You groaned out loud at the question, not really wanting to dig into the subject, although you knew it was bound to come up. 

“Hm.. well, yes and no. I do believe in the basics of christianity and religions similar to it. Heaven, hell, angels, demons… but I’m not as strict and I don’t follow the Bible to a T.” Simeon explained to you once that most of the things in the Bible weren’t even accurate and were changed to fit humanity’s ideals and beliefs, and were not actually the words of God anymore. Earlier versions were the most accurate, but sometime around the 12th century, things got tricky, and he refused to even look at a modern Bible due to how influenced and wrong it was. Your mom nodded, seemingly understanding, “that’s understandable. We try to follow the word of God as much as we can, but of course we’re bound to make mistakes and strive off the path sooner or later.” your dad nodded in agreement and you hoped he’d leave it at that, but of course not. 

“Agreed. You seem like a good Christian man, and as long as you understand and value the most important aspects of the scripture, you’re perfect to us, and perfect for our (Y/N).” Simeon just smiled, not really up for explaining or debating his personal life with you to your parents. “Thank you. It means a lot that you accept me.” A sigh of relief left your lips as you gave Simeon a look of thanks for not fighting against their words or trying to correct them, although you were sure that it was bound to happen in the foreseeable future. 

The rest of dinner went pretty uninteresting and you soon found yourself waving Goodbye to your parents to walk back to Hell with your angel, a storyline that you were sure would make at least someone laugh, “Thank you for… not correcting them or the like.” Simeon’s smile dropped for the first time that night as he took your hand and stopped you, getting all serious. For a moment, you were scared, but he just seemed to need to vent, and you let them, “You don’t understand how hard it was not to correct them, you really don’t.” His face turned into a pout, almost like a puppy and you quickly kissed his lips, “don’t worry. I’m sure we’ll have the educational talk sooner or later, just… I’m happy you held back today.” His pout stayed, though, and you got worried there for a moment, squeezing his hand, “Simeon?” “I think I… need another kiss to convince me to hold off on that conversation.” You only laughed, leaning back up to kiss him once more.