#checked on mobile and it seems fine there

[slimeandsadness]

Getting this weird placeholder icon for Dan's channel on desktop. Changes afoot?

[mintaii]

is my latest post’s photo quality super crunchy or is it just me

[emdotcom]

Tbh, can't believe I'm cutting ties with Fnaf before Batim.

[lucanls]

i dont think ill ever get used to the drastic difference in both coloring distortion and quality drop of how your gifs look on desktop vs mobile

[izzy-b-hands]

Think my phone has finally kicked the bucket, so now I get to rapidly rebudget so I can get a new one ASAP

[chaerish-archive]

if u see my hyuka gifs on mobile im so sorry they’re a little too saturated FJDKD

[zombiemollusk]

are the games on ynoproject stuck on the loading screens for anyone else or just me?

EDIT: i joined the discord server just now and i've seen three others have this issue, at least two of whom use mobile. i think maybe a recent site update messed something up in the mobile settings.

ANOTHER EDIT: yes, i checked it on other browsers. i also cleared my cache (not my cookies as i would like to not lose my progress thank you). same issue. pretty sure it's on the site's end.

[doctorbitchcrxft]

What Is and What Never Should Be | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader (Eventual ? ;) )

Warnings: Dean's an alcoholic dick, coping with trauma from a sexual assault, mentions of parental abuse, mentions of suicide but like not really cause it’s in a dream, canon violence, canon gore (take care of yourselves, as always. Love you guys.)

Word Count: 5281

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

About two weeks had passed since you’d left Deacon’s prison. You were convinced it was the hardest two weeks of your life. You couldn’t quite decide if you wanted Dean hugging you all the time, or if you never wanted anyone to touch you again. It felt like every time you looked in the mirror, you were in that disheveled prison guard outfit again, tears streaming down your face with fresh scrapes trailing down your arm. You felt like you were never going to leave the prison’s parking lot.

It definitely didn’t help that you were also having to deal with being fugitives simultaneously. Sam and Dean were waiting for you back at the motel. You put the two of them on a strict lockdown given their mugshots would be everywhere, and the feds hadn’t seemed to find a clear enough image of you to post yours. You drove the Impala around the area of your newest hunt searching for a potential location the victims could have been brought to while the boys researched back in their motel room. 

You knew Dean could tell you were pulling away from him, and you knew it was hurting him. You didn’t want to, but you couldn’t let him in right now. You didn’t want to burden him with your problems given Sam was supposed to be the main concern right now and evading federal agents was a huge priority. You needed to deal with your issues in silence in order to keep yourself from completely breaking down in front of the boys and pulling focus away from what you believed were more pressing issues.

Your phone rang and broke you out of your thoughts. It was Sam’s number. “Hello?” you said into the phone.

“Hey. Got you on speaker,” he replied. “There’s a cop car outside.”

“You think it’s for us?” you questioned.

“I don't know.”

“I don't see how,” Dean jumped in, his voice a little distant. “I mean we ditched the plates, the credit cards.”

Sam breathed out suddenly. “They're leaving. False alarm.”

“Well, see. Nothing to worry about,” Dean jested.

“Yeah, being fugitives? Friggin’ dance party,” Sam deadpanned.

“Hey, man, chicks dig the danger vibe,” Dean commented.

You scoffed. “Got anything yet?” you asked the boys.

“Just one thing. I'm pretty sure of it now. We're hunting a Djinn,” Sam answered.

“Really? How do you know?” you questioned.

“A freaking genie?” Dean asked simultaneously. “What? You think these suckers can really grant wishes?”

“I don’t know,” Sam said. “I guess they're powerful enough. But not exactly like Barbara Eden in harem pants. I mean, Djinn have been feeding off people for centuries. They're all over the Quran.”

“And where do these guys shack up?” you asked. 

“Ruins usually. Uh, bigger the better; more places to hide,” Sam replied.

Something struck you. “Y’know, I think I saw a place a couple miles back. I'm gonna go check it out.”

“Hell no, (Y/N),” Dean stated, voice suddenly much closer to the phone. “You’re not goin’ without us.”

“Dean, I’ll be fine. I’m sure it’s nothing. I just wanna take a look around,” you argued. 

“I’ll call you guys when I’m headed back.” Despite the voices of the Winchesters protesting, you hung up the phone and turned the Impala around. 

Minutes later, you came upon a decaying factory. Doors squeaked on their hinges as you pushed through them and decades-old papers crunched beneath your feet like fallen leaves. Everything seemed very empty and very abandoned, but you weren’t quite convinced. You headed deeper into the factory past several offices with smashed windows on their doors and blinds hanging crookedly. 

Suddenly, something grabbed you and pinned you to the wall behind you. You dropped the flashlight you were holding as the Djinn pinned your hand above your head. You got a clear look at the monster in front of you; a bald man with curling blue tattoos detailing his face and body. You struggled against him, trying to get your knife through his chest with your free hand, but he pinned that one as well. The eyes before you began to glow an electric blue, and your entire body went numb.

*** The next time you woke up, you were alone in a comfortable bed. You jerked up, turned on the lamp next to you, and took in the room around you. There were scrubs tossed on the back of a rocking chair in the corner of the room and a picture of you and Dean hung on the far wall. 

‘What the fu—’ you thought. 

Suddenly, a shirtless Dean entered the room wearing sweatpants hanging low on his hips. “Hey, sweetheart.”

“Dean!” you exclaimed. “What the fuck is goin’ on?”

He eyed you strangely and snorted. “Wha— What do you mean?”

“Where are we?” you asked.

Dean paused, still standing in the doorway and taken aback. “Uh, our house?”

“What?” you questioned.

“Babe, are you feeling okay?” he questioned, sitting on the bed next to you. “I knew your shift at the hospital was bad, but—”

“Wait, what? I don’t work in a hospital, I was hunting a Djinn—” 

Dean cut you off. “You were probably just having a bad dream, sweetheart. Let’s go back to bed, okay?”

You weren’t quite sure what Dean was talking about or if this was even Dean. Maybe  he’d been possessed, maybe you’d been— ‘Wait,’ you thought. ‘The Djinn. Maybe he did this to me.’

Dean climbed into bed next to you, and you noticed he wasn’t wearing the amulet he quite literally never took off. You were apparently eyeing him strangely, because he chuckled, “What?”

“Nothing,” you shook your head, “Just, uh— where’s your necklace?”

Dean laughed, almost sounding relieved. “Oh, I took it off to shower.” He put a silver chain with dog tags hanging from it around his neck. He opened his arm for you to settle into. 

Hesitantly, you laid down on Dean’s chest. You didn’t get much sleep the remainder of that night, though; incredibly uneasy about what was going on around you. 

Around three in the morning, you slipped out of Dean’s arms and began to explore the house around you. You peeked through the bedroom window to see a neighborhood outside that screamed Middle America. You crept down the hallway to the living room and kitchen area. 

Along the walls of the den, there were photos hanging of what looked like you as a teenager and a child, but you couldn’t be sure. You didn’t think photos of you existed of that time in your life. And if they did exist, they definitely were not of you at your third birthday with a pink frilly party hat stuffing cake in your face or of you in a cap and gown graduating high school and college. The next thing that caught your eye was a picture of you hugging Steven tightly. Your hand flew to your mouth at the sight. However, it wasn’t your Steven. This one was older and a lot happier than the Steven you once knew. 

Then, there were pictures of you and your mother. Your father was nowhere to be seen, much to your surprise. You nearly wept at the sight of your mom. Then, there were pictures of a young Sam and Dean. One was Dean hugging his mother. He looked much older than four which was the age you knew his mother died at. 

“Holy shit,” you breathed out. 

You took out your phone and checked the time. You considered for a moment, but decided to call Sam figuring he would likely be up soon anyway. 

“Sam?” you asked when the call was answered. 

“(Y/N)?” His voice sounded raspy and tired. 

“Hey, yeah, what the hell’s goin’ on, man?” you demanded.

“(Y/N), what are you—”

“Oh, god, not you, too.” You hung up the phone and ran a hand through your hair. No one but you seemed to understand that this wasn’t right. You noticed something laying on the coffee table at your feet. An envelope addressed to you with Lawrence, Kansas written on one of the address lines. 

“Lawrence? Why the fuck am I in Lawrence?” you breathed out. 

You noticed a computer sitting a distance away and immediately hurried to it. You typed in your password; no luck. You tried Sam’s password for his and Dean’s shared laptop; no luck either. Frustrated, you sat back in the desk chair. You weren’t sure where the idea came from, but you suddenly had the thought to type in Steven’s name and birthday. Somehow, it worked. You remembered how that was your original idea for a computer password when you first bought yourself a laptop in your real life, but the reminder of Steven was too painful to do so. 

You then set to work researching the Djinn. You learned that they’re not so much genies as they are wielders of godlike power. They could alter reality to their whims however they want in the past, present, and future. 

Then, the thought hit you. ‘What if this is just my life now? What if I never see my Dean again? Am I even a hunter wherever this is?’ Your breath hitched as you realized something else. ‘Was I ever raped? Are my parents alive? Where’s Stevie?’

You typed “whitepages” into the search bar and put in your father’s full name; no results. You tried your mother’s and actually got a hit. She lived in Lawrence, too. 

‘What the fuck?’

You then tried Steven’s. Surprisingly, his name generated results, too. He also lived in Lawrence. 

You hurriedly wrote their addresses down on a sticky note beside you on the desk. When you returned to your room, it was around five in the morning. Creeping around the room, you discovered the clothes in your closet were nothing like you wore in the real world: flowing skirts, cardigans, and lots of different colored scrubs. You almost smiled at the sight of the clothes hanging in your closet. 

‘In another life, I definitely would’ve worn all this,’ you thought. You’d always wanted Carrie Bradshaw’s closet; Sex and the City was one of your guilty pleasure shows in the real world.

Your outfit of choice consisted of a pair of low-rise jeans, a halter top with a plunging neckline, and… ‘Oh.’ The only shoes this version of you had in her closet were heels. Admittedly, you’d never been great at wearing them, but always wanted to try. And so, you did. 

Dean still slept peacefully, and you carefully clacked your heels back down the hallway. You headed outside to find the Impala in the driveway, and for that, you were grateful. 

“Hey, sweet girl,” you grinned. You remembered seeing car keys on a hook next to the door of the house and quickly grabbed them. You popped open the trunk of the Impala secretly hoping to find something useful in it. However, old playboy magazines and paper cups were all you found.

‘Ew, Dean, clean out your car.’

You moved around to the driver’s side of the car. Before you could sit down in it, though, something caught your eye. A girl with a gaunt face and billowing white clothing was standing across the street on one of the neighbor’s lawns. A car blew past, and she was suddenly gone. 

***

You rolled to a stop in front of the first address you had written down: your mother’s. You tried to keep your composure as you walked up to her front door. Hesitantly, you rapped your knuckles against it. 

The door opened to reveal your beautiful mother who you’d missed so much. She looked a little older than she did the last time you saw her, and it was all you could do to keep yourself from throwing your arms around her.

“Mom?” you breathed out.

“What is it, hon?” she asked. “C’mon, come inside.”

The sound of her voice made tears spring to your eyes. You followed her into the living room where pictures of you and Steven lined the walls between crucifixes.

“Hey, Mom?” you started. “What song did you sing to me before you used to put me to bed?”

She looked confused, but humored you anyway. “The, uh, ‘The Long to Be’ song by the Carpenters.”

You smiled, partially in relief that this seemed to really be her and not just a figment of your imagination and partially at the fact that she knew. You rushed to her and hugged her tightly. Your mother seemed taken aback once more, but didn’t say anything to let on that she was.

“You okay? Everything alright with Dean?” your mother asked you. 

“Oh, yeah, everything’s— everything’s great. Just, uh, it was a rough day at the hospital, ‘s all,” you said.

“How’s the garage?” 

You tilted your head. “The garage?”

She seemed confused, too. “Dean’s? How’s work going for him?”

“Oh, oh. The garage, of course,” you laughed awkwardly. ‘Smooth, (Y/N),’ you mentally berated yourself. “Yeah, it’s fine, it’s great.”

“Really? Last time we talked, he was too busy drinking to focus on fixing a car,” she said.

You felt stunned. The Dean you knew was bordering on becoming an alcoholic, sure, but he wouldn’t let that get in the way of his job.

“Baby, I’m glad to see you, but why are you here at six in the morning?” your mom questioned.

“I just— I just couldn’t sleep. Needed to see my mom,” you replied. It was a half-truthful response.

Your mother offered a small, thoughtful smile. “Oh,” she suddenly said. “What time are you and Dean going to dinner tonight?”

You tilted your head. “Uh—”

“For Mary’s birthday?” she prompted. 

“Oh, oh,” you said. “Right.”

“Did he not tell you?” she asked. “(Y/N), I’ve been telling you that boy isn’t right for you for a while now.”

“Mom—” you protested.

“No, (Y/N). You’re a fantastic nurse. You’re dating a drunkard mechanic. Why couldn’t you have dated Sam?”

“Ew, mom, no. Sam’s my best friend,” you said.

She seemed stunned. “What? That’s new. Last we talked, you hadn’t heard from Sam in months. Neither had Dean.”

It was your turn for your eyes to widen. “Right, right, yeah. Sorry. I’m just—”

“Have you been drinking? Dean’s rubbing off on you, (Y/N). You should have listened to me when I warned you about him,” your mother sighed. 

“Jesus, Mom—”

“Don’t take his name in vain!” she scolded.

You scoffed. “I forgot that you’re like this.” You crossed your arms and turned away from her. 

“Like what?” your mother pressed, voice rising. 

“So incredibly judgmental of me. I’ve never been good enough for you or Dad, Mom!”

“How dare you bring up your father!” your mother cut you off.

“What?!”

“Wow, you really are drunk, (Y/N),” she replied. “He’s been dead almost your whole life. You barely even knew him. How could you say that about him?”

You felt like you’d been punched in the chest. ‘So that means he never hit us.’ “Mom, I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

“Just leave, (Y/N). Please. I’ll call you tomorrow,” she sighed.

You turned and slammed the door behind you. You sat in the Impala with your head on the steering wheel just trying to process everything that was going on. Even in this fantasy land or new reality or wherever this place was, your mother was harshly critical of you. Granted, you’d rather her harshly criticize you and be alive than dead, but this version of your mother perfectly mirrored the true version of her. It truly freaked you out. 

‘Well, scratch that off the list, I guess,’ you thought.

***

You hesitantly knocked on the door of your little brother’s home. 

“(Y/N)?” he asked upon opening the door.

Tears sprang to your eyes. “Steve?” you breathed out.

“(Y/N), what’s wrong?” he asked.

You smiled as a tear slipped down your cheek. “Uh, just a hard day at work ‘s all,” you replied. You threw yourself into his arms; a hug he responded to immediately. 

“Hey, seriously, what happened?” he asked when you pulled away. “Was it Dean again? The hospital never gets to you like that.”

“Wait, what? No,” you shook your head. “Why does everybody keep saying he treats me poorly?”

Steven looked at you as if it was obvious. “Uh, ‘cause he does. He’s an alcoholic playboy asshole that you’re way too good for.”

“What?!” you questioned. “No, he isn’t.”

He sighed. “Listen, (Y/N), I don’t wanna keep having this fight with you.”

“Yeah, me neither,” you replied. You stopped for a moment. “Stevie, I’m really happy to see you.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, I’m glad to see you, too.”

A small voice piped up from behind your brother. “Daddy?”

Steven stepped back to reveal a staggering toddler in pigtails. He picked her up and grinned down at her. “What’s up, kiddo?”

‘He’s a dad?’ Your shock only increased, and you smiled at the sight of them interacting. Another tear slipped down your cheek. 

“Why’s Minnie crying?” the toddler asked her father.

You grinned. “She calls me ‘Minnie’?” 

Steven nodded. “Yeah, just like I used to.”

You laughed. “Can I hold her?”

“Duh,” he replied, handing his daughter to you.

“Hi, sweet girl,” you grinned down at her. She tugged on the ends of your hair, babbling happily and singing to herself.

“Look, Minnie, I braid.” The toddler held up a now twisted, knotted mess of your hair. 

You smiled at her. “Awesome job, angel.” 

You sat on the floor playing with your niece and Steven for hours until your phone rang.

“Hey, (Y/N), where ya been?” Dean’s voice came from the other line.

“Steven’s,” you replied. “Why, what’s up?”

“We gotta be at my mom’s in an hour. Meet me there?” he asked.

*** You met Dean on the steps of his mother’s house. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he grinned, pecking your lips. 

Suddenly, a voice came from behind you. “Seriously, Dean?”

“Sam!” you exclaimed, turning around to give him an enthusiastic hug. He hesitated to return it, and the woman next to him cleared her throat. You released him to come face to face with Jessica, a woman you’d only seen in pictures. 

“Hey, Jess,” you said, the name feeling strange on your tongue. You hugged her as well, and she awkwardly laughed.

“Hi, (Y/N),” she said. 

You then noticed the awkward distance between the two brothers and the bags Sam was lugging out of the trunk of the taxi in front of you. 

“Where'd you guys come from?” you asked.

“We just flew in from... Califor—”

“California! Stanford and everything. Right, sorry,” you laughed. “I’m really not with it today.”

Sam nodded somewhat disapprovingly. “I can see that.” He motioned to the beer in Dean’s hand. “I see you started off Mom's birthday with a bang, as usual.”

“Sam—” Dean warned.

Your heart was breaking at the awkward tension between two brothers who were otherwise incredibly close friends. You couldn’t believe there was a universe where Sam and Dean weren’t, well, Sam and Dean.

***

The restaurant you sat in next to Dean was stuffy. Sam and Jessica were dressed equally as stuffy. Nothing felt right at this moment. You were suddenly reminded of the reason why you were here, and that you needed to figure out how to help yourself get out of here. 

“Wow, that... looks awesome,” Dean said, referring to the plate of steak and asparagus that had been placed in front of him.

Sam raised his glass. “All right. To Mom. Happy birthday.”

“Happy birthday,” you, Dean, and Jessica said in unison.

“Thank you,” Mary replied, clinking her glass against yours.

You watched Sam and Jessica peck each other on the lips and you smiled fondly. 

“I was really worried about you last night,” Dean told you.

“Oh, I'm… I'm good. I'm really good,” you nodded.

“For some reason, I don’t believe you,” he smirked. “I know a few ways I can make that a reality, though.”

You recoiled at that comment, slightly dumbfounded by how correct Steven had been about Dean’s behavior in this realm.

“Jess and I actually have another surprise for Mom's birthday. Ah,” Sam turned to Jessica, “you wanna tell 'em?”

“They're your family,” she laughed.

“What? Tell me what?” Mary asked excitedly.

Sam held up Jessica’s left hand to reveal an engagement ring. You laughed happily in surprise. “Holy shit! That’s amazing!” You got up and hugged Sam happily before hugging Jessica. “Congratulations!” you told them.

“I just wish your dad was here,” Mary told Sam.

You suddenly realized John was missing. You searched Sam’s face, whose disappointment mirrored his mother’s.

Dean and Sam awkwardly shook hands which hurt your heart a little to see. Just behind them, though, you noticed the girl from earlier. Her white, flowing clothing was much filthier and torn this time. You brushed past Sam and headed toward the girl, pushing past people mingling in between you and the haunting figure. As you pushed past the final woman, the girl was gone.

Confused, you turned back around to see the equally weirded-out faces of the Winchester family. 

Sheepishly, you grinned and walked back over to them.

*** “You got somethin’ we need to talk about?” Dean asked you. He’d been completely silent since dinner up until this moment. He downed a beer in the kitchen before turning to you. 

“What?” you asked.

“Back there with Sam. What’s going on with you two?” Dean asked. “In fact, you’ve been acting really weird the past two days. There somethin’ you wanna tell me?”

You scoffed. “Dean, I’m not fucking your brother. Look, I’m not feeling like myself right now. ‘S all.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” Dean responded mockingly.

“Dude, why are you being such a dick?” you questioned.

“Oh, so we just call each other ‘dude’ now?” he argued.

“Listen, I’m really not enjoying this attitude, okay?” you responded.

Dean cut you off. “I’m not enjoying yours, either. What happened to the sweet little nurse I married?”

“Jesus, we’re married?” you questioned before you could help yourself. 

“(Y/N), what the hell?” Dean replied, his confusion seeming to grow by the minute. 

“I think I’m just… overly tired. I’m gonna… sleep out here tonight,” you said.

Dean scoffed. “Since when are you the childish one?”

“I’m not being childish, Dean, I just wanna sleep on the couch tonight, okay?” you hissed.

“Fine.” He left the room and returned to the bedroom the two of you apparently shared. You heard the door slam a moment later, and you flinched. You settled to the couch and pulled a blanket over yourself. You clicked on the television and began clicking through the channels. Something on the news caught your attention.

“And today marks the anniversary of the crash of United Britannia Flight 424,” the reporter began.

“What the—” you breathed out. 

“Indianapolis residents held a candlelight vigil in memory of the hundred and eight people who lost their lives—”

Your throat clenched. “No, no. We stopped that crash.”

Panicked, you moved to your computer. Every hunt you checked had apparently never happened. “Nine Children Comatose” was the headline describing a “mystery illness” that had swept Dane County Hospital. Then, the brutal homicides from the clown killer after John died. And Taylor from the closing-down-Hoodoo-hotel case had drowned in the hotel pool. As you looked out the front window, you saw the same woman you’d seen twice already flash by the window. You turned around to see several female corpses hanging around you, and you nearly screamed out in surprise. Then, that same woman again flickering in front of you.

This twisted world was completely shocking even you, an experienced hunter. Your mind raced, but you knew what you had to do. A picture of your dad holding you as a baby on the wall of your house caught your attention.

“I’m sorry you’re not here, Dad,” you murmured. “And I know what I need to do. I’m gonna hunt this son of a bitch, but… I don’t know. Stevie’s happy. Mom’s… Mom. And I just— Why do we always have to be the ones to sacrifice something? A part of me is happy to do it, and this is proof that I could never have this. But it’s just… I don’t know. I know you’re tellin’ me to stop whinin’ and just get it done. I’ll make you proud. I promise.”

And with that, you grabbed a silver knife from your china cabinet and headed out to the Impala. You managed to steal lamb’s blood from a butcher’s shop and headed to the factory you’d last seen the Djinn at. 

***

Hours later, you arrived at the factory in Illinois. Running on pure adrenaline, you headed inside. You moved your flashlight around to illuminate different parts of the factory, and you ignored your phone as it began to ring in your back pocket. The ringing silenced, and then rang again. Without thinking, you lifted your phone over your head and slammed it into the ground, shattering and silencing it completely.

Then, you came across a big store room with the same bodies you’d seen hanging in your living room strung up around it. Next, you noticed the woman you’d been seeing all along. She seemed close to death; her cheeks sallow, face pale, and body hanging limply. 

“It’s her,” you breathed out.

Suddenly, you saw the Djinn coming around the corner. You ducked into the shadows as the woman began to cry. “Where's my dad? I won't tell—” she suddenly cut herself off. “Don't. Where's my dad?”

“Sleep,” you heard a soothing male voice say. “Sleep.”

You then saw the woman’s body completely relax, and the Djinn began to drink from the blood bag next to where she was hanging. 

‘So that’s what it does,’ you realized. ‘It doesn’t grant you a wish, it just makes you think it has.’ As the Djinn disappeared, you continued to think. ‘What if I'm like her? What if I'm tied up in here some place? What if all this is in my head?’ You walked up to the woman. “I mean it could, you know, maybe it gives us some kind of supernatural acid, and then just feeds on us slow.’ You nearly scoffed audibly. ‘So, she’s not a spirit, she’s a flash of reality. I’m catatonic. Fucking great.’

Then, you remembered an old wives’ tale. “Listen to me, motherfucker!” you called into the darkness. “I’m gonna slit my fucking throat! I die in a dream, I wake up, right! Come and get me, I dare you!”

“Wait!” Dean’s voice suddenly called. He walked into the room. 

“Why'd you have to keep digging?” Sam asked.“Why couldn't you have left well enough alone? You were happy.”

Your mother walked up to you and put a hand to your cheek. “Put the knife down, honey.”

“You're not real,” you said, tears forming in your eyes. “None of it is.”

“It doesn't matter. It's still better than anything you had,” Steven replied, holding his daughter. 

“What?” you breathed.

“It's everything you want. C’mon, let’s go home,” Dean pleaded. 

“I'll die,” you argued, voice breaking. “The Djinn 'll drain the life out of me in a couple of days.”

“But in here, with us, it'll feel like years. Like a lifetime,” your mother said. “I promise.” She put her hand to your cheek and stroked it with her thumb. “No more pain. Or fear. Just love and comfort. And safety. (Y/N), stay with us. Get some rest.”

“You and Dean don't have to worry about Sam anymore,” Jessica said. “You get to watch him live a full life.”

Dean walked up to you and kissed you fiercely. “We can have a future together. Have our own family. I love you, sweetheart. Please.”

“Why is it our job to save everyone? Haven't we done enough?” Sam tried. “I'm begging you. Give me the knife.”

You looked over to Steven, your lip quivering as you sobbed. “I’m sorry.” You slashed your throat with the knife, and the world went white once more. 

***

“(Y/N)!” you heard someone yelling. “Sweetheart, wake up. (Y/N)!”

‘Dean.’

“Oh, God. Come on,” you heard Sam murmuring. “Hey. Wake up. Wake up, damn it!”

You began to roll your head a little, and your eyes could finally open. “Hey, guys.”

“Jesus, (Y/N),” Dean sighed. “I thought I lost you for a second.” 

One of the two boys yanked out the IV in your arm. 

“You almost did,” you joked half-heartedly.

“Oh, god,” Dean muttered, giving you a once-over. “Let's get you down.”

You winced as the boys helped you down, but you suddenly saw a pair of blue eyes glowing behind the boys. “Boys!”

Sam wheeled around, going at the Djinn with the knife. Dean immediately tried to get you away from the scene and set you down a distance away from the scene. “Stay here!” he ordered.

“Don’t have much of a choice, do I,” you groaned as Dean turned to help his brother. Several yelps and groans later, the two boys staggered over to you after having killed the Djinn. You pushed yourself off the floor, wincing, and immediately moved over to the girl you’d been seeing in your sleep. “She's still alive!” you called to the boys upon feeling a pulse in her neck. 

The two Winchesters helped you cut her down and get her out of the factory to a hospital. 

***

Upon your return to the motel, you found out from the hospital that she was alive and stable. There was a solid chance the girl would pull through.

“How 'bout you? You all right?” Sam asked you.

“Yeah, I’m fine, guys,” you said. “I’m great, actually. I’m just— I’m just glad to be back here again.”

“What was it like?” Dean asked.

“Oh, you were a complete dick,” you replied.

Dean chuckled. “Sounds about right.”

“And Sam— Sam you were such a freak,” you said. “All stuffy and Stanford-y.” You paused for a moment. “But, uh, you guys were really breakin’ my heart, honestly. You couldn’t get along to save your life.”

“I thought it was supposed to be this perfect fantasy,” Sam said.

“Trust me, it wasn’t,” you replied. “I know we’ve lost a lot, but, uh, I wouldn’t trade any of this for the world. Even seeing Stevie again, I— it just wasn’t right. I felt like more of a freak there than I do here. I, uh, I wished what happened to me at the prison never had, but the truth is, that’s always gonna be with me. I can’t just… get rid of it. Nothing can. And that’s not okay, but I’ll learn to live with it.” 

You left the boys to sit with your words and moved to the bathroom. When you looked up at the mirror, an image of you with your mussed-up hair and guard uniform on flashed before you. You ignored the fresh-looking scrapes on your arm and blood streaking down them and shut your eyes. When you opened them once more, you were back to looking at your sunken face and tired eyes. 

Dealing with this was hell. Every day felt like a struggle since what happened to you. But deep down, if you were honest with yourself, you would take dealing with all this with your two boys over your white-picket-fence, Djinn-dream-life any day.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[nebuladreamerrr]

“Where is mom?”| Kylian Mbappé x Fem Reader

Summary:  After a day filled with the profound exertion of bringing your second child into the world, a moment of tender anticipation arrives: it's time for your eldest to meet her new sibling.

Warnings: English is not my first language

After enduring six grueling hours of labor, you finally welcomed little Jules into the world—a spitting image of his father. As the nurse reassured you of his perfect health after all the tests performed to check both his heart and hearing, your thoughts drifted to your daughter, Manon, and how she might be feeling on this momentous day.

"Are you okay, my love?" Kylian's concerned voice interrupted your reverie as he made skin-to-skin contact on the couch in the room with Jules.

"Do you think Manon is okay?" you whispered, trying not to disturb the baby sleeping in your husband's arms.

"Honey, everything will be fine. You know she's with my mother, and if she was sick or something had happened, she would have contacted us," Kylian reassured, his voice gentle and soothing.

"Yes, Kylian, but she's not used to changes, and today has been anything but routine. Could you text your mother and ask her to come today instead of waiting until tomorrow to meet the baby? And to bring Manon with her, please," you pleaded, concern evident in your tone.

"Of course, my love. But try to relax and rest. I'm sure she's fine and just eager to cuddle us," Kylian said, gently laying Jules in his cot before enveloping you in a comforting embrace.

Your concern for Manon might have seemed excessive to some, but your motherly instinct told you otherwise. You knew your daughter well, and despite the joyous occasion, something deep down told you she wasn't having a good day. It had been a challenging few months for your family, especially for her. Manon was accustomed to being the center of attention, the youngest grandchild and only daughter of doting parents. Kylian, in particular, showered her with affection, earning her the title of "daddy's girl." Even on days when he had to travel for matches, he made sure she knew she was always his little girl. They had a ritual: before each pre-match training, he recorded himself telling her a story, allowing you to play it for her at bedtime. Often, she fell asleep hugging the mobile phone that displayed her father's face.

When you found out you were pregnant again, you couldn't help but worry about Manon's reaction. However, she surprised you by being thrilled at the news. Her excitement grew when she found out she was going to have a baby brother, and her joy was more than evident at the baby shower, where she participated enthusiastically as the one who popped the balloon revealing the gender of her baby brother.

But not everything had been smooth sailing in the past few months. Manon quickly grasped the concept of becoming a big sister. You couldn't blame her; you knew you and Kylian had indulged her, but how could you resist? So it wasn't surprising when she cried inconsolably as Kylian explained that she would have to stop sleeping in your double bed because the baby would need a lot of nighttime care. If she slept with you, she wouldn't get much rest.

Similarly, there was something you hadn't told Kylian in any depth because what little he knew had broken his heart, and had ended with him clinging to you as you both wept inconsolably, apologizing to her for having to leave home. But your little girl wasn't coping well with having to leave France next year, and you couldn't blame her. She had only just started kindergarten this year and had managed to make many friends at her little school. In addition, this year she had managed to start going to a ballet academy where she felt like a real princess in every class. You completely understood her frustration and understood how everything she knew would quickly cease to exist. There would be no more afternoons in the park, no more afternoons playing with Navas' children, and even your little girl would have to get used to another teacher and other doctors. But you knew that this was the best thing for Kylian and that he deserved to fulfill his dream. So you tried to convince your little girl, assuring her that she could still talk to her friends on your mobile, and you would keep in touch with their mothers so that, as soon as you returned to France for a holiday, your little girl could see her friends.

So when Fayza got that call, she couldn't have been happier. It was customary for her granddaughter to stay at Fayza’s home, but it had been exhausting trying to distract her when her little mind was elsewhere. Fayza had done her best to make the day entertaining, but it had started on a rough note. When your water broke at five in the morning, Kylian took you to the hospital, and they had to make a quick stop at Fayza's house to drop off your daughter. Fayza had prayed that her granddaughter would fall asleep quickly, as she had on many previous occasions, but it wasn't meant to be. Manon stayed awake all day, and by seven in the morning, Fayza had given up trying to coax her to sleep.

She had tried to make the day better by preparing her granddaughter's favorite breakfast, little Mickey Mouse waffles, accompanied by a good session of her favorite cartoons, but the plan failed when she barely took a bite. No matter what Fayza tried to cheer her up, the day wasn't working: not playing princesses, not a Disney movie marathon, not an afternoon with her uncle Ethan, who decided not to go out with his friends to try to improve his niece's mood. But when the clock struck five in the afternoon, the little girl couldn't take it any longer and cried inconsolably missing her mother.

Your daughter was very attached to her father, mostly because he was the father figure she saw the least of in her day-to-day life. As long as Manon felt you were close, everything was under control, but that day you were far away from her. Ethan quickly tried to calm her crying by singing her a little song while holding her in his arms and moving around the house. That calmed her for a moment, but both Ethan and Fayza knew that if the little girl did not see her mother that day, none of the household would be able to sleep that night.

Fayza tried to encourage Kylian about her little girl's state of mind by commenting that if they needed quiet and rest, it might not be advisable to take her to the hospital. However, Kylian played it down, thinking that her mother was simply worrying too much.

With a smile, Fayza turned to Manon and said, "Honey, put your coat on, we're going to see Mommy.”

Your little girl quickly buttoned up her coat and rushed out to the car. During the car ride, Fayza tried to explain to Manon that the hospital room would contain not only her parents, but also her little brother, but she barely paid attention when she sensed that they had arrived at the hospital. Strategically, Fayza quickly sent Ethan to buy a bouquet for you, knowing that when she unbuckled her granddaughter's car seat, she would jump out regardless of whether she was carrying a gift for her mother or not.

So when they asked where the room you were in was, Manon bolted for the lift and led the group as she walked down the corridors of the hospital looking at the different room numbers until she saw it: "Room 350".

She quickly opened the door and, catching a glimpse of your figure, couldn't help but burst into tears as she threw herself onto your hospital gurney, waiting for you to take her in your arms.

"My baby girl," you said as you looked worriedly at your daughter's reaction. You knew that her behavior had nothing to do with how she had been treated at her grandmother's house, where you knew she had been treated like a princess. But even though your maternal instinct had sensed it, you didn't know it was that bad.

Manon's constant crying caused little Jules to burst into tears as she woke him up from his warm sleep, which made your daughter cry even harder.

"Kylian, I think I'm going to go outside with Manon to soothe her. You can stay here while you introduce Jules to your parents," you said, making an effort to get up.

"Honey, you've just given birth. It's not advisable to stand for too long," said Kylian as he stopped you from getting up.

"Well, you're going to explain to me how we reassure our daughter because logically she needs a moment alone," you replied sharply. You hated talking to Kylian like that, but you felt that no one understood how much pain your princess was going through. You knew that with a few sweet lullabies, you could calm Jules down, but your daughter wouldn't be soothed so quickly.

With a short sigh, Kylian exclaimed, "I'm going in the next room with Jules and my family while you try to calm her down, okay? But don't make any sudden moves, please, I beg you. I'll be right back, sweetheart," he said, placing a small kiss on your daughter's head.

When the room fell silent, you couldn't help but ask your daughter why she felt that way and what was going on in her little head. Although many might think it was jealousy, it was quite the opposite. The little girl could not understand that you would not abandon her. So many things were changing in her daily life that she could only expect more changes. When she noticed the absence of both of you, she was frightened. She was used to Kylian's absence, but you had never been gone so long. Even when you were sick, she would lie on your breast while you watched a princess movie and wait for you to recover enough until you had the energy to play again.

After a long time of cuddling and stroking her hair, your little girl managed to calm down, but she stirred restlessly in your arms when she noticed someone opening the door to the room. However, she calmed down again when she noticed it was her father.

"How is my little princess?" exclaimed Kylian before lifting her nimbly into his arms as he gave you a look that begged you to tell him what had happened.

As she gave your daughter little kisses and caresses, you told him what had happened. "She was afraid that we were gone and that we would disappear from her life.

After hearing that, your husband's heart couldn't break more. "My love, that will never happen. Dad and mom love you so much and we will always be by your side. We could never abandon you," he said as he left delicate kisses on her little head.

"You promise?" your daughter asked with teary eyes. 

"Of course, sweetheart," he replied. 

After an hour of cuddling and enjoying a few moments with your firstborn, you decided it was time for her to meet her baby brother.

"Manon, would you like to meet Jules?" you asked cautiously.

Surprisingly, her reaction was a huge smile as she nodded her head repeatedly. Quickly, Kylian allowed his family back into the room as they relinquished Jules so that Manon could hold him in her arms with the help of her parents.

[save-the-villainous-cat]

“So, are you just going to stare at my pretty face all day, or…?” The villain crossed their arms in front of their chest and rolled with their eyes. It was embarrassing enough, the hero didn’t have to rub it in.

“Is that such a crime?”

The villain let out a humourless huff. Their anger was evident, their frustration obvious.

And the pain, god, sometimes the villain couldn’t even breathe. Getting out of bed was already hard enough but being forced to work under these conditions?

Of course, it could have been worse. As part of their rehabilitation, they didn't need to do much, their work wasn't even that demanding.

But with their injuries, every move seemed to be unbearable.

“Just fuck off.”

“I have some documents to sign for you. My boss insists.” The hero fished a folder out of their bag and, unfortunately, they had indeed more documents. The villain found it quite unbelievable how much they had to sign. Although they knew it wasn't clever not to read over all of the pages carefully, they were too tired to do so.

They didn't really care that much either.

“Or better known as your excuse for visiting me,” the villain joked. Their side started to hurt again, a pain so cruel and prominent that they had to remind themselves to take everything slow.

It was actual hell. Not being able to do anything. Not being able to move freely. Although the doctor had assured them they were healing and doing well, the villain felt everything but fine. It had been over three weeks now and they were still waking up in the middle of the night. Pain robbed their sleep and pain robbed their mobility. They were impatient, they were annoyed.

The interrogation room was very familiar to the villain by now. Every week, they got to meet the hero. Either documents or lectures — whatever topic the hero chose, it was always a long conversation the villain’s body couldn’t manage towards the end.

However, they never said anything. The hero's visits were better than work. They were the best part of the entire week.

“I don’t need excuses to visit you,” the hero said, winking. They pushed the document towards the villain. “Sign here.”

The villain sighed. They didn’t even look at the paper.

“Can you ask them to increase my medication again at least?” the villain asked softly. They took in a deep breath and signed the document on the last page, their pen following their shaking hand's command as quickly as possible.

"I'm sorry, you're already on the highest dose possible."

"Oh." The villain put down the pen and stared at their nemesis. Their nemesis who had captured them. Who had put them in this situation in the first place. They seemed to be recovering just fine. They seemed to be fit and healthy, seemed to be in the prime of their life. Attractive and kind - perfection had carved itself through the hero. "...do you think the people here are honest? The nurses and the doctors, I mean?"

"Some of the best people in the country are working here," the hero said. "That includes medical staff."

"Okay." The villain's voice was quiet. They didn't understand the logistics behind a place like this, they didn't understand anything about the things the hero gave them to sign. "Did you know they're experimenting on me?"

"They take samples from your tissue or blood to look at in the lab. Seriously. You're not in any danger." The hero smiled sweetly and scratched the back of their neck. "I check the reports regularly and I talk to your doctor on a daily basis. It's their priority to help you."

"Why?"

"Well, you're a victim, are you not? We don't know much about the supervillain and their powers, so helping you recover could help us get more information on them. And considering your past, we have to...observe you in a special place like this." The hero leaned over the table to get to the document. Their fingertips touched the villain's knuckles by accident. "That's only one reason, of course. Most importantly, you were beaten to death and needed help."

"It wasn't that bad."

"Half your organs were hanging out of you when I found you," the hero said. Their voice was quieter now, maybe lost in their thoughts even. "I donated a kidney for you."

"You can be so romantic," the villain said. The sarcasm didn't really come across and the villain knew how half-hearted their jokes had become. It wasn't like they weren't grateful, it was just difficult to be saved and have a life when they had accepted their outcome a while ago. That day, they had accepted that they wouldn't survive. They had made their peace with it and then the hero had saved them.

And now, the villain had to live with this horrible pain.

With the nightmares and the fear. They had become a stranger in their own body. It didn't feel like they had control over themselves anymore. Although the hero was right, they couldn't help but feel like a lab rat.

"The point is...you're the only person who has survived them and if they find out you're alive..."

"A facility like this won't hold them back," the villain said. "It would be a minor inconvenience."

"I know, that's why-" the hero held up the document "-you just signed a request for special protection. With me being your caretaker."

Again, that sweet smile spread across their face but the villain didn't really know what that meant. Their poor heart skipped a few beats.

"Are you saying you'll be staying here?" The villain's neck started to heat up. Wasn't this a bit too much? Had they asked for too much? With the medication and the doctors...wasn't this too much effort for the hero to put in?

"I am saying you're coming with me if this gets approved. Which it will."

"Like, to your house?"

"Yes, darling." The hero leaned back in their chair and took in a deep breath. "I've been working on this ever since I found you. I knew the agency wouldn't let you recover in a prison that easily. I argued that you're a victim and a source of information. That brought you here. But still, they made you work in here which I argued to be counterproductive. The law department is pretty annoyed by me."

"I...I'm not sure what to say," the villain said. Their head was reeling. Maybe everything would be a little easier. Maybe waking up would be easier. Were they actually dreaming? They could be out of here soon?

"You don't have to say anything." The hero stood up and walked up to them. Once they were closer to the villain, they sat down on the table, looking down at them. "I just need you to rest."

"You didn't have to do this," the villain said. Their voice was shaking. "You didn't have to save me again."

"I can't help it. By the way, we have matching scars, did you notice that? I can't just leave you in here."

"You suck," the villain said, but there were tears in their eyes. The relief they felt was indescribable. This place was alright. The people were alright. But they weren't the hero. They weren't comforting. With their chair, they moved closer towards them. "You're so horrible."

They leaned their head against the hero's arm, too tired and overwhelmed to hold up the weight of their head anymore. Quickly, the hero went through their hair with their fingers, holding their jaw in their hands and guiding them to lay their head on their lap.

"Oh, honey..." They played with the villain's hair and scratched their scalp softly. Their fingers went over the villain's face, carefully avoiding their bruises. "I promise I will take care of you."

They stayed like this until visiting hours were over.

[shadamyheadcanons]

For me, Shadow and Amy's dynamic is basically two different types of touch starved in a person

((If any of the gifs on this post aren’t loading for you on mobile--like they aren’t for me--you can download them or check the sources listed. As for desktop, they play just fine, but they won’t line up next to each other like they do on mobile. Tumblr is a comedy of errors.))

Yes! Absolutely. I’ve seen tons of fans say Shadow is prickly and would respond badly to hugs, but canon says otherwise. This is a bad reaction:

[Sonic 06]

Whenever I feel like being sad, I wonder if Bad-Future-06 Silver has ever been hugged.

This is a bad reaction:

[Sonic Unleashed, gif source.]

And I shouldn’t have to say this, but...yeah. These are very bad reactions:

[Sonic X]

[Sonic Generations]

Yikes. I feel bad for both of them.

But this?

[Sonic Adventure 2, gif source.]

This is Shadow’s only canonical hug in the games, and aside from jumping slightly from being snuck up on, he seems to like it just fine.

Just look at that smile! He’s happy. He finds it endearing.

It was a hug from a complete stranger meant for someone else, but he still drank it in--and, given that he’d effectively just lost Maria, he really did need it. It’s the combination of Amy’s gentleness AND her speech that changed his mind. After all, if someone as sweet as her sees something in the humans, maybe they’re not so bad.

My buddy who runs @shadowxamyweek recently reblogged a post about this hug, and their tags sum it up perfectly:

[ID: A screenshot of tags on a post. The tags read:

#official art #4kids #shadow the hedgehog #amy rose #YEAH 😭 #listen I read nothing that has happened with them in SA2 as shippy - and i ship them #THIS HUG? THR SPEECH ON THE ARK? #those are two lonely kids #those are two left behind kids #those are two kids so desperate for affection #for two vastly different reasons #Amy loves with her whole chest and will never stop doing so- no matter what happens #and Shadow does too- that is key to remember- Shadow loves... so fucking much... that it hurts #you are RIGHT op when you say this is probably the first time someone has been gentle with him in a long long time #he doesn't even run away #in the game- when Amy flees- he takes a step after her- a moment's hesitation- a 'wait' #this kid NEEDED a hug #and i firmly believe part of the reason Shadow listens to Amy in the end is BECAUSE she is the only person who showed him gentleness #softness and kindness and affection #if only for a moment #fjdodhdofjgor THIS is what i mean when i say 'be gentle- be kind' #it MATTERS #it FUCKING MATTERS

End ID]

Shadow doesn’t hate hugs inherently; it’s just that no one hugs him in the first place...

...aside from one person.

Amy’s easily the most affectionate character in the cast. It’s cute at first glance, but there’s a common thread to every instance that puts a damper on it.

She’s always, ALWAYS the initiator.

She puts more into each hug than anyone else does.

She’s always the last to pull away.

The most reciprocated Amy hug I know of in canon is this one:

[IDW Sonic issue #22]

Which is absolutely adorable...but Amy still initiated. Because it’s always her job. Even the characters who like affection don’t need it the way she does...with one exception.

And this tiny detail just killed me. The little, “wait, come back 😟”

It’s the only time I know of when someone has actually stepped after her like this. In a game where everyone left Amy behind, he wanted to follow her. Mister so-called-prickly didn’t want the hug to end.

Because he’s the only one who needs it as much as she does.

He wants to be held as much as she wants to hold someone else, and no one else is warm and sincere enough for it. Compare these instances:

[IDW issue #6]

Sonic thinks Shadow is wrong about something, so he grabs Shadow’s arm to stop him, and Shadow aggressively wrenches it away and leaves.

[Archie Sonic Universe #23]

But when Amy thinks Shadow is wrong about something and grabs his arm to stop him, he gently removes her hand and thinks about what she has to say.

Even when he doesn’t want to be touched, he makes the distinction between “don’t touch me” and “not right now, please.” These are from two different continuities, of course, but I think the point stands. Amy’s special. He’s gentler with her than he is with other people, and that’s consistent across all canons.

Side note: how often does Amy get to feel special like that? I actually really like that Sonic doesn’t place others in a hierarchy of importance, and I wouldn’t change that about him even if I could...

[IDW issue #2]

...but Amy does play favorites. I want her to feel like she’s someone else’s favorite, too. I want her to have someone who puts her first and likes her best. I think Shadow’s more than capable of that. I believe he craves clinginess like hers deep down, even if he hasn’t consciously figured that out yet.

I have an entire tag for these two being affectionate. My favorite is probably this one.

Of course, there may be those who say I’m reading too much into one (1) hug. And you know what? Maybe they’re right! We need a bigger sample size. Sega, make more characters hug Shadow, please. Let Rouge comfort him after he confides in her about something. Have Omega give him an awkward metal embrace because he read on the internet that organic beings like that kind of thing. Make Shadow himself pull Silver into a hug when he’s breaking down crying from the stress of always having to be a hero. Show Tails accidentally grab onto him out of fear when they’re trapped in a lightning storm, and when he gets embarrassed and pulls away, have Shadow hold him for the rest of the storm and admit he’s not fond of bright lights, either.

[Sonic Boom]

That scene where Shadow and Amy rescue Cream and Cheese from Cryptic Castle? That easily could’ve turned into a cute group hug.

[Shadow the Hedgehog (2005)]

And I have seen some absolutely adorable fanart where he holds Cream’s hand while he and Amy lead her through Cryptic Castle to make sure she doesn’t get lost 🥺

Have Knuckles give him an empathetic bro-pat on the shoulder when he finds out Shadow’s the last one of his race, too.

[Archie Sonic Universe #89]

Have Sonic try to hug him, and then when Shadow inevitably pushes him away and says he doesn’t do hugs, have Amy arrive and latch onto Shadow instead while he tries to stutter out an excuse as to why she’s allowed to and Sonic isn’t.

The most affection Shadow has in recent history is stuff like this...

[Sonic Prime season 2 episode 1]

...where Sonic tries to hug him and Shadow immediately pushes him away, knocks him over, and tries to punch him in the face. Kind of says it all. Amy stands out as the only one with a good track record here.

[IDW issue #36]

Especially when you have him look at her like this when someone else is on the receiving end of that affection.

So in the absence of further evidence, I have no choice but to interpret this in the most Shadamy way possible. Your move, Sega.

[the-fandom-is-now-my-life]

Okay but imagine if the Creator's child was Kaveh's.

Out of literally everyone in the world and the creator bags the broke architect 🤭

Que Jessica Rabbit's 'he makes me laugh'.

He still lives with Alhaitham bc the idea of sharing a literal child with the creator but still getting locked out of your apartment is hilarious.

The creator had a the broke architect's child

Creative child

After your child is born with no distinctive features other than his blond hair the first one to know who your lover was is your own child

WC: 900~

To be 100% truthful I only thought about doing this for the iconic physical feature like neuvi, Diluc, etc but this was fun jsjs

“Morning, parental unit” your blond son stands on the door joining your library and the solarium in which you often humored visits.

“Morning, uhm, offspring?” Your hand reaches towards the book shelf without minding him, people said children his age find joy in speaking and behaving weirdly, and yours wasn't an exception, if his giggles meant something. 

“I heard you speaking with mister Diluc about visiting Sumeru”

“It's bad to eavesdrop” softly you chastise him but he pouts and stomps.

“I wanna go! You told me dad lives there, I wanna meet him”

“Shush! I told you that as our secret” you close the book you were skimming over but sigh as you see his yellow eyes “but last month when I told you to come for a festival in Sumeru but you didn't want to go”

“Because aunties Eula and Amber were going to teach me how to skyyyy” he whines the last word, already sensing you wouldn't want to take him there. 

“Bratty child” you groan “fine, if you manage to make up for the 4 days we will not be here with your tutor I will take you” and as you finish talking you hear him slamming the door shut and his bare feet hitting the floor as he runs away.

And, somehow, your usually mischievous child managed to work hard enough to make up for a few absences, or so said his tutor, who you still believed was under the spell of his puppy eyes, just like when he managed to smuggle two cats and a cryo slime.

“Karen, stay close, we have to go to the akademiya to check some paperwork and sit through some meetings” you grab his forearm, dragging him away from the colorful stained glass mobiles and the fluffy beasts carrying spices and fruit.

After a fair bit of bickering with every stand selling something he has never seen you manage to reach the akademiya, even if Karen was almost being dragged. 

Popping your head on the administration room you see a row of desks, a familiar face standing out amongst the sea of brown hair, a long gray hair standing up tall from his scalp.

Alhaitham is lounging in his desk, a book on one hand and a pen on the other, seeing him so calm makes you decide against bothering him and rather to ask one of his coworkers, even if you have to wait for a little bit while they finish transcribing as you chat them up, knowing it could be intimidating to have you stand silently besides them.

“C'mon let's just go to himmm, he looks like he is just lazing arounddd” Karen tugs on the bottom of your tunic but you ignore his little tantrum and keep asking the girl about the date she told you she will have after work.

Seemingly waiting for five minutes was too much of a waste of time that could be used to explore this nation. Sneaking silently behind you he stands before Alhaitham’s desk, but is ignored as he has his noise canceling earbuds and Karen isn't taller than the desk.

“Hey” he says, no answer “Heeeyy” no answer, now ticked off Karen slams his small hands against the thick wood board “HEY! STOP IGNORING ME” 

Alhaitham just peeks his head towards him, not hearing the noise but seeing his hands, but when he looks at him his annoyed look and yellow eyes seem too familiar.

He opens his mouth, eyes half closed as if he was thinking about something. 

Now noticing he was causing the ruckus you drag him by the armpits so he stops hitting the desk, as you start making Karen apologize you see Alhaitham's face. His eyebrows now almost up with his hairline and his green eyes uncharacteristically wide, but quickly he changes into a smirk as Karen apologizes for yelling.

“Please don't tell me it was-”

“Keep reading your book”

“Not my guest's bed~” he teases while grabbing his book, expecting the office to be calm again when the door slams open again, a blond huffing and puffing ready to face his housemate.

“YOU… how come you always grab my keys?! I couldn't enter the house for 2 hours!” to which al haitham tugs a set of keys out of his pockets and dangles three keys and a lion doll.

“Ugh, calm down. Why even wait 2 hours if you already know where I work?”

Under all their yapping you mumble something to your son “that is your dad” and you let a small promise to make both meet if he is busy, but after 5 ish minutes of bickering and the paperwork you needed snug in your hand it's obvious it will be quicker to just end this fight yourself. 

“Kaveh? Oh, hi, it's been so long” one of your hands falls on his shoulder, making him notice your presence “like 4 years ago?” You ask as you feel Karen hug one of your legs.

“oh, yeah, it's been so long” he laughs lightly, feeling suddenly bashful.

“It's a shame I was so busy I was just able to visit Sumeru, someone wanted to meet you” the flat part of your nail rakes through your son's hair.

“Huh?” He just now notices the kid behind you and his bright hair.

“Could you take care of him for a second? I have to finish a meeting and I should be able to meet you two”

“Yep! I will show him around and we can meet at the cafe, in sure we will have a lot to talk about”

Don't dare to run away so fast... Who allowed you to use my house like a motel

Hick!

[databent]

this is Still the case btw. help me

tumnlr... 😦 i cant see my messages. WHY

[politemenacephd]

A Winter Stroll

Miguel O'Hara x GN!Reader (ft. baby Gabriella)

Short AU where you and Miguel take your baby Gabi for a stroll in the park while its cold. Pure romantic fluff.

Word count: 1992

‘Hey, are you sure she’s covered?’

You glanced up and watched your breath turn to smoke in the air, its haze obscuring the face now glancing down at you from above. You watched it dissipate.

Miguel was staring down at you, his gloved hands manically rubbing against each other as he tried to warm them up.

‘Hmm? You mean Gabi?’

You turned from your beloved partner to what you'd been pushing; a clean, padded purple stroller that you’d only just bought, currently carrying the most precious cargo in the world to you both.

Little Gabi peeked out from beneath her coverings, her big brown eyes blinking against the cold. You instinctively bent down to check on her.

‘Hey, baby girl. You okay?’

You’d decided to take a small break and go on a walk in the local park, just something to get Miguel out and about. He was usually so restless but since Gabi was born he’d been nearly bed bound, utterly fixed to her side. His favourite thing was to spoon you beneath the sheets in your shared bed while facing Gabi’s crib, watching the mobile spin as she gurgled and cooed, holding you all in his grip and never letting go. If he had the chance he’d do that until the end of time.

But you insisted he at least get some movement into his day, and so he’d agreed to this short stroll, not realizing just how chilly it still was.

It was the kind of cold you could smell. When you breathed in through the nose it stung just a little, and all you could really scent was the ice on the grass.

Because of this the park was almost empty, spare for one woman and her dog in the distance, and the trees were bare and dark. The sky was empty and blue, like a still ocean in a timeless void. The world had been coated in a kind of dull, muted sheen, a dreamlike dullness.

Everything was still, quiet, sleeping. The grass crunched underfoot, and your shoes made little echoing clacks on the hard pavement when you walked across it. There was no sound but the single chirping of a robin somewhere nearby.

It was serene, to you, but to Miguel it was a little bit terrifying.

‘Gabi’s fine’ you insisted, gently reaching down to show her. She was utterly bundled in blankets and was wearing her oversized little parka onesie in his favourite shade of purple, and the only thing you could see was her little nose and her big eyes. She was blinking slowly, too young to really see but too curious to sleep.

Miguel curled his lip, his brows knotting against his will. ‘Mm- let me, just, check her again, please? Mi tesoro?’

‘Oh Miggy, you—okay, okay. You check her all you want.’

You graciously stepped aside for him to bend over, and he did, though not before giving your cold nose a quick kiss. You giggled at his insistence.

The moment he got close to Gabi his face lit up. Those old, worn, tired lines seemed to melt away in her presence. He looked so much younger.

With her father now in her line of sight Gabi’s eyes suddenly locked on. She focused in on his face and warbled softly.

‘Hola, mi amor’ he whispered. Gabi garbled a little louder in response.

When he smiled his breath condensed around his bared fangs, a soft white mist that highlighted the pearly sheen of his teeth. You saw the little wrinkles by his eyes when he smiled, the sign of a man who was gleefully exhausted.

‘Ah, mi bebita. ¿Tienes frío?’

Gabi gurgled beneath her pile of blankets. She managed to get one tiny fist free but Miguel immediately tucked it back in, though he did pause to admire how small it looked in his own enormous hand. Her little fist barely covered his thumb.

‘Sweetheart, she can’t talk yet’ you gently reminded him. You bent until you were at the same height, gently easing him away from the object of his obsession. His eyes were wide beneath the stray locks of his hair, big and soft and red.

‘I- I know, that, but—’

‘Mhm. You always say you know, and yet, you just keep doing it.’ You couldn’t help but chuckle at him, and despite his awkwardness he smiled back.

‘I just want to be sure she’s okay’ he whispered. With your smile still straining your cheeks you gently bumped your temple against his.

‘I know. But you know I want that too, right?’

‘Of course, mi tesoro! I wasn’t suggesting otherwise.’

‘Mhm. I know, but, consider, that constantly asking if she’s warm enough, it—’

You held out your hand to prompt him, and he begrudgingly shrugged. ‘It- sounds like I don’t trust you to do a good enough job.’

‘There you go. You know you’re very smart, you should be a scientist maybe. Have you thought about that?’

‘Aha, funny. Diablilla.’

You giggled as he gently clacked his fangs on your cheek.

‘You wanna keep going? We can turn back if you really want, in all honesty I don’t want to freak you out’ you said.

Miguel shook his head. ‘No, no, you’re right. She’s fine. You know best, as always.’

‘Oh my god- you big suck up’ you teasingly chided.

‘Mhm. Happily. The most beautiful creature in the world’ he said, his finger lightly brushing your cheek. You snorted in reply.

‘I don’t know about that. My- nose is running into my scarf, and my hair—’

Your list of complaints was stifled as Miguel put a single finger to your lips, smooshing them shut. With his gaze fixed on your's he then gently pulled up his sleeve and wiped your nose clean.

‘Beautiful’ he repeated, without a shadow of doubt or hesitation.

Despite the cold, you felt your body burning up.

‘Alright, you—come on, let’s go’ you said, trying to cover how coy you’d suddenly gotten. Miguel hid his smug smile at having very much already noticed it.

With his fears now quelled you both pulled back and continued walking, with your hands on the stroller and Miguel’s arm around your waist. He squeezed you tight to his side. Your head was squished against his pec beneath his jacket, and the woven material was soft against your cold skin. You relished the feeling.

‘Do you think it’s likely to snow soon?’ Miguel asked as you rounded the corner to the pond. You noticed that a light sheen of ice was covering the water.

‘Mm- if I had to give an educated guess… Probably?’ You hunched both shoulders as you weight the option with both hands.

‘Mm. I can’t wait till she’s older. It’ll be so nice to take her out when she can enjoy the snow’ Miguel said with a dreamy sigh.

‘Oh my god- I’m sorry, did you just said you can’t wait till she’s older?’

Your scoffing drew Miguel’s eyes back to you. He looked surprised. ‘Hm? Yes. Why, is that, strange?’ he asked.

‘For you? The man who almost cried when she didn’t fit into her very first onesie, the one she was put into when she was born? Yeah, it’s strange.’

‘Hey, don’t be mean. That’s different’ he insisted.

‘No, no it's not. You’re going to lament her getting older at every turn.’

‘Well- that's natural, isn't it? She’s just so- small’ he objected, trying his best to seem stoic while clearly whining. You felt his claws coming out as he squeezed you a little closer. ‘She’s my baby.'

‘And she’ll be your baby whether she’s one month old, or one year old, or thirty years old, or- god, eighty years old, you big soppy idiot’ you lightly teased, raising one hand to grab his thickset jaw. You squished his cheeks with your thumb and fingers and shook him until he chuckled.

‘Okay. Okay. Point taken. But I mean it, it’ll be nice to see if she enjoys the snow’ Miguel said.’

‘Oh it’ll be great. I bet she’ll be a real wild card, I think she’ll like snowball fights. She’ll beat our asses some day.’

‘You think so?’

‘Oh I KNOW so, she’s her father’s daughter. A menace.’

‘Menace? No, not my bebita, she’s itty bitty’ Miguel insisted. You just kept giggling.

‘Mm, no, nope, no, menace. Little menace.’

You bent and gently waved your fingers on Gabi’s cheeks as she cooed, a sound that never failed to melt your heart.

‘Menace’ you repeated affectionately. ‘Our little menace.’

For a little while longer you enjoyed the cold in peace and quiet. You were comfortable being quiet with Mig, or by letting your actions speak for you. Every little bump of your head into his bicep, every squeeze of his hand, each time he silently checked if your nose was close and subsequently kissed it. That was all enough.

But as you rounded towards the end of your walk, that silence ended.

‘Hey, I uh—’

Miguel coughed to catch your attention, drawing you to look at him again. He was avoiding your gaze now, which you found a little odd, with his free hand gently rubbing his jaw.

‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Of course, beautiful man. You go right ahead.’

You returned to watching the pathway ahead as you waited for Miguel to speak. He coughed a second time to pluck up his courage, a sight that was strange for such an imposing man.

‘Ah- can—can we have another one?’ he whispered.

You almost tripped over your own feet in shock.

‘Ah, shit— sweetheart, are you okay?!’ Miguel moved fast to stabilize you that his claws expanded. You shot him an incredulous look.

‘Mig- Miguel, she is three months old!’ you hissed. ‘What do you mean another one?!’

‘I just meant, you’re- you make such beautiful babies’ he whispered, his voice as low as possible while remaining just as intense as if he’d shouted. You felt your whole body tingle at the unexpected softness.

‘And Gabi looks so lonely, you know, she—’ Miguel was stumbling on his words as you put your hands to your hips. ‘You just- beautiful babies, really, just the most- beautiful. She's so perfect. And she looks lonely.’

‘My god, what a compelling argument’ you said drolly, though you could feel yourself already smiling. ‘I don’t know though, it’s been a while. You might be out of practise for making more.’

You savoured the little spark in his eyes, the gleam of red that brightened his gaze. It was an intrinsic curiosity, a deep-rooted hunger for one specific thing.

‘Mhm. Mhm. Well- I’d, have to prove you otherwise then, wouldn’t I?’ he whispered back. You hated how quickly you melted at his husky voice.

‘You would’ you said, leaning in closer. You held him there, with those narrowed eyes and that eager smile, before bringing him down with a gently clap to the chest. ‘You would, if we didn’t have a literal newborn.’

‘Oh, mi tesoro—’

‘Come on dummy, let’s get home’ you said, your voice firm even though you were still smiling. ‘If she falls asleep when we get in, I might be able to make time for a quick shower. You know, to get warm again.’

The way Miguel arched his neck the moment you said ‘shower’ never failed to amuse you. He certainly looked extra large beneath all that padded clothing.

‘Mm… Okay. Deal.’

To your surprise, Miguel then quickly swooped the stroller out of your hands and began pushing Gabi home, all while cooing at her over the rim.

‘Shh, you’re feeling sleepy, aren’t you bebita? ¿Estás cansada? ¿Si?’

As Miguel resorted to singing lullabies you were forced to jog slightly to catch up with him, your panted breath billowing clouds of smoke around your flustered face.

Sadly, while Miguel did get that shower, you were both too cold to indulge in anything but huddling together like sad penguins, and jealously hogging the water as much as you could.

[bludhavens-finest]

Ok so this is the biggest blog I have so I will be talking about it here, also comics have always been inherently political so it makes sense to talk about here, this will be posted to the rest of my blogs as well

I’m going to tag this with tw’s, if you don’t want to see more shit about the election I get it believe me I do, that’s fine. If you do stay around I’m going to be incredibly blunt about this shit

1. Do not fucking kill yourself. The amount of queer and especially young people I have seen saying that they are going to is astronomical, these people are not worth loosing your life. If you need help, get help, talk to someone, at the end of this post I’ll add numbers/websites

2. If you are disabled like me, and you need something medically whether that be vaccines, surgeries, procedures, mobility aids, medications, or even certain information; get them now while you can. The medical system in America is a bitch to deal with and even harder to get into, most of my appointments take at least three months, but if you can get in and get things done before they switch who’s in office, get it done now.

3. If you are trans and planning to get gender affirming surgery or healthcare in the next few months same goes for you, get the surgeries while you still can and get on meds now, if you get on them now it’s going to be easier to keep the prescription for as long as you can.

4. If you’re a woman or afab, get birth control while you can. Because they are going to get rid of birth control at this point, they’ve already gone after abortions and this is the next step.

5. But queer/feminist/punk media and books while you still can, because yes they can and will ban books they already do it in schools

6. Honestly I would even go so far as to say start buying physical copies of certain bands if you can, because most hardcore and just regular punk bands will probably be less accessible

7. Honestly probably just get a vpn at this point, I know you’ve gotten an ad for one from a YouTuber before, look into the company’s, find one you can afford and like

8. If non-Americans or even just some Americans who are republicans (which if you are fuck off.) think this is an over-exaggeration it’s really not.

America is the only first world country without universal healthcare, most people in this country either die waiting for a doctor, die because of a doctor (medical negligence and malpractice are leading causes of death in America, over a quarter of a million people die a year because of it.), public transit is non-existent, disabled people have been fighting for our rights for decades, women lost the right to control their own bodies after having that right for less then a life span. Many woman were there when roe v wade passed and still alive when it was overturned. Because it all happened in the span of 50 years. The amount of violence in our police departments (that are only getting more and more funding), the lack of education and lack of historically accurate information taught in public schools, the literal fucking constant brainwashing campaigns.

This is all coming from someone who is Afab, a Minor, living in the south, mentally and physically disabled, a lesbian, and trans. Believe me I understand how fucking scared people are.

It is 2024 almost 2025, not 1970. You have access to information and you are entitled to being informed, so inform yourself. Check your own sources, do your own research.

I’m well aware that this all seems fucking dystopian, I know that it seems like there’s no point, but keep yourself safe. If you need a break from seeing all this filter your tags, go outside for a while, get off the internet, play with your pets, talk to friends. Just don’t let yourself sit in this and worry yourself to death, it’s not going to help anyone.

Numbers you can call: 1-866-488-7386 (Trevor project), If you go to their website you can also text if talking isn’t safe, 988 (suicide and crisis line),

[the-s1lly-corner]

Alastor x High energy!Fighter!reader

Platonic leading obviously, still trying to figure out how to write relationships with alastor, given that the ace and aro spectrums...are well.. spectrums!! Also kiss and stuff aren't the end all be all of relationships

Thinks

You know?

Still on mobile so typing is gonna be a little HOOFFUCUSHHD!!!!

He thinks it's a little funny how you so casually throw yourself into fights

He can step in at any time and put a stop to the fight with a simple snap of his fingers, but unless you seem to be in real genuine danger.. well hes fine just standing to the side

I think it would be funny if he became an announcer of sorts during any fight you get in.. which may distract you.. or the other person

Talks about it while watching you patch yourself up, talking about your form as well as any mistakes you made

Will lend a hand if you need some help treating a wound you cant quite reach

He copes well with your energy, even if he doesnt match it

In a way he keeps you in check, helping you regulate yourself in social events and interactions

You two probably talk about some other sinners or even some other overlords, usually you initiate it

Alastor doesnt have many close friends, but you're definitely one of them! You help him stave off boredom, and he gives you someone to hang around with