#did he handle it well? no. but he did not want his kid to get into it and get hurt and he DID NOT WANT dealers around him

[hyperfixiation-station]

Behind Enemy Lines Pt.1

CW: Torture, Canon-typical violence, talk of derealization, disassociation Summary: You were a friendly medic, captured years ago and held prisoner, forced to do do the bidding of your captors. Years later, a man by the name of Ghost is dragged in and changes the trajectory of your life. A/N: I had severe ADHD, and i am unmedicated rn, and it makes it really hard to work on things unless I get the hyperfocused drive for it, so I'm sorry I'm so bad at making the other parts to my fics. Know that I will never abandon them. it just might take me a while. idea part 2

You fought back, at first. Way back when you first got captured, taken from your base camp and dragged through miles and miles of harsh terrain, blindfolded and bound. A medic you were, yes. But your team had trained you with the best of them. You spent the whole time trying to escape, kicking and screaming until they bound your legs and gagged you. You spent the first month of captivity refusing to talk to them, hissing and spitting and pretending their punches didn’t hurt. But it didn't take you long to realize it was better to cooperate, or to at least be civil. Civility got you less broken bones, less pain, more rations, more sleep. Cooperation didn’t come till later, when you finally realized your team wasn't coming for youthey were dead but you didn't know that.

Surprisingly, the whole mouth-getting-sewn-shut didn't happen till a couple years in... they were torturing someone, a man who said he had kids and a wife at home, whose only wish was that they left something recognizable of him so they could get some closure. You begged them to stop. Begged them to stop when his wounds became too numerous to count, too much for you to handle. Begged because you started to care for him as he told you about his son and daughter, how they want him home for Christmas(You didn't have the heart to tell him Christmas was 6 days ago) Told them that he would die no matter what you did if they continued. Well, they didn't stop, and he did die... and you found yourself ringing in the new year by being strapped to a table.

“We warned you to stop talking with him.” They said as they clamped the metal shut over your forehead and chin, holding you in place. “We told you to not get attached, but since you can’t seem to do it on your own, we’ll help you.” The feeding tube came 2 weeks later, shoved up your nose when they realized you were starving...they couldn't lose their favorite medic of course.

You stopped paying attention to the passage of time after that, spent most of your days drifting in and out of reality, moving through the motions with a practiced ease. And it would have remained that way, if it wasn’t for a man in a skull mask with a team- a family- looking for him. 

Your first introduction to him ended up with you getting a broken nose. Per usual, you were shoved into the cell, medical kit in hand, ready to fix up whatever damage your captors had done the their poor prisoner.

The mask he had been wearing when you saw him dragged in was gone, and he had a gash that went all the way through his cheek that would need stitching up. You pull out your equipment, moving slowly towards his bleeding face. 

he headbutted you the moment you got close enough for him to reach, and the crunch of bone and the gush of warm blood followed, not that you noticed. You were still in that dreamlike state, not quite tether to reality in the way you should be. You barely noticed when they tranqued him, and the only reason you didn't finish his stitches is because you passed out too(it’s hard to breathe through a bloody, broken nose)

The next time you approach more carefully, but he’s no trouble. Mostly because they left him completely strapped to the table this time. Today was a rare day, a time when you  could actually feel your feet on the ground rather than just see them. You feel bad as you wipe him down, your eyes flicking over the myriad of scars on his body. What’s one more you think to yourself as you get to work stitching a stab wound to his thigh. Just barely missed the artery here…that could have been bad news. Okay tie it off and- there we go. I think the only other thing that need to- oh, is he…talking to me? I should probably pay attention to that.

“-here?” His voice is gravely, though you suppose yours would be too after being tortured. He stares at you expectantly, and you shrug. You don’t know what he said, and even if you did, you couldn’t answer. You just move to his wrist, snapping the bone back in place. He inhales sharply, but doesn’t make an actual sound, which surprises you. But you don’t dwell on it, wrapping a bandage around his arm and moving to exit the room. 

“Y’ no’ g’nna lemme off?” His voice sounds, “they said y’ would.” You spin around, staring at him. You're not stupid. And even if your…bosses had said that, you still wouldn’t do it. Being trapped in a room with a man who is at least a foot taller than you and looks like he could kill a man with his glare? No thank you. 

You take a step back, heading towards the door. The man lets out a sound you would barely qualify as a laugh. “Sm’rt then.” He says to himself, “No’ gonna be that easy.” 

The next time you go in, you can't help but wonder what they want from this man. By now they usually would have killed him off. Oh well, not your job to wonder. You clean him up, splinting the fingers they had broke when he talks to you again.

"why don't y' let me die?" He says, voice just as gravely as before, "Put me outa m' misery?" You don't respond, just keep taping his hand. IT's something you ad asked yourself, right at the beginning. It would be kinder for you to just let your patients die. But you couldn't do it. Partially because you were punished anytime someone died before your captors wanted them to, but also because you were a medic. YOu were there to heal. You couldn't stomach letting someone die by your hand.

"Answer me!" The man snarls, bringing you back to the present, "For god's sake y' never talk, fuckin' mute." You don't respond, of course. Just finish your task and leave him to his thoughts.

He’s angrier after that time, you’ve noticed. The few times you're actually present, he’s fighting you. Usually not with words, but he bucks and doesn’t hold still. He’s tried to grab your medical supplies countless times, and one time you actually had to be pulled out because he jerked his arm while you were stitching him and somehow managed to drive the needle into your own hand. The few times he does actually yell at you, you’re usually not paying attention. You can catch words like “Dishonorable”  and “Disgraceful”. You aren’t entirely sure of the context of the words, but you can guess. You’ve treated enough prisoners who think that you are the world's worst human being, a blight to the medical field, to guess what he's trying to tell you. 

It's funny though, this man so full of hate. Because, for the first time in goodness knows how long, your feet are on the ground, and your head is level. Something about this man, his angry, uncrushed demeanor, even after weeks of torture, stirs emotion in you that you can’t quite identify. And maybe you should be grateful, thankful your head is on right, but you're not. You so desperately want to go back to that place of apathy and detachment, where your emotions weren’t so strong, were the pains of mishealed bones and poorly healed scars didn’t plague your waking moments. 

Or maybe it wasn’t the man- The Ghost, as you found out he was called. Maybe it was the fact that something in the air had changed. The air was electric, charged with tension so thick you could feel it even alone in your cot. They were watching you, you could tell. Could feel their eyes tracking your movements in a way they hadn’t since first giving you freedom to move around. 

You're not sure why. It’s not like you have anyone to go home to. You were an only child, and your parents had died long before you reached 18. All you had was your team, a team that had seemingly abandoned you. So why would you leave? There was nowhere to go. And yet they watched you. Was it because you were becoming more aware, more grounded then you had been in a long while? Was it the man, Ghost, who had them on edge? 

The answer came two days later. You were in Ghost's cell again, desperately packing gauze into a gaping hole on his side. You don’t know what had happened, but for the first time in years you were dragged from your cell, your captors muttering under their breath in a language you still didn’t understand as they thrust you into his cell. Blood was everywhere. Your best guess was that Ghost had been struggling and an instrument had slipped and gouged out a hole in his side. So here you are, packing gauze into the wound as you try to figure out what to do to keep him alive with your rudimentary supplies. 

You pack another piece of gauze in just as the door goes flying open. Men, dressed in black, wearing the same mask Ghost was, come bursting in. 

“Get back!” The one in the front yells at you, gun pointed in your face. You shake your head, hands pressed against Ghost’s wound. 

“Now!” You make a protesting noise, trying to gesture with your chin. The man looks down, eyes widening. 

“Aw shit- are you the medic?” You nod almost desperately. The man looks at you again, staring at your hands. They are shaking, pressed against the wound as you try to keep Ghost from bleeding out. 

“Fix him.” The man snaps. You shake your head and look up at the man, trying to communicate that you need more supplies. 

“Use your words.” The man gabs the gun at you, indicating he wants you to get on with it. You stomp your foot, shaking your head again. 

“What, what's that supposed..…you can’t speak, can you?” You nod, glad he finally got it. The man groans, lowering his gun.

“You’re coming with us, but you make one wrong move, and I mean one, I will put a bullet through your brain before you can even speak. Got it?” He gestures to the other two men with him, and together you lift Ghost up, carrying him out to safety.

A/N- anyways, here's part one. Sorry if it disappoints anyone

tags, sorry if i missed any:

@redzluvvesage @just-a-harmless-potato-05  @vesna-the-spring @princess312 @norsehorseofcourse-blog @bonniperinktrance @soggywafflezz  @littlebunie @sirbonesly @havoc973 @mommymilkers0526 @thegreyjoyed @pinkiliciousgunp0int @poopoobuttsy @darcellethedreamer @kamote-kuneho

[snakesafraidtodie]

Danny stops mid rant once he realizes that Bruce Wayne is looking at him like he's crazy. "Ehh... never mind. It's just been a rough week. Ignore everything that I said. Obviously I'm alive. I'm just... uh, saying what my parents expect I'd say. Because they think I'm dead."

"You're used to indulging their delusions." Bruce stated, more than asked.

Danny sighed. "Look. I'm really sorry about them. But did you have to publish the name of the dead boy you thought was your son? Even if it's not me, that's gotta be some sort of privacy violation. Did you get permission from the family of the dead Danny?"

"...I'm sorry, I don't know how the body's identity got released to the press." Bruce had a genuine look of guilt on his face. "But you're right. That information should never have hit the news."

"Well, I guess it's not your fault then." Danny shrugged. "Um. This is a long shot, but do you know how to get in contact with Batman?"

"..."

"It's just, now that they're convinced you have my body- my parents... are kinda single-minded? And I wouldn't put B&E to steal what they think is the remains of their son past them. So. I wanna talk to Batman. To discuss how best to handle their brand of... them-ness. They're a lot, but they're good people! And they're grieving me, as misplaced as it is."

--------

The Fentons want a dead body that doesn't exist.

The Waynes want to keep their cover and not blow their identities. (No, Tim. You are not allowed to clone Daniel to make a fake corpse for his parents.)

Danny wants his parents to accept that he's both dead and alive and stop harassing a rich fruitloop for the corpse of a rando kid he mistook for his son. And he'd like to get that without having to out his identity to more people, but at this point it seems unlikely.

So.

When Bruce Wayne agreed to set up a meeting for him with Batman, Danny decided to tell the truth. Because who could he trust with it if not a fellow hero?

------

Ok. Batman was way more intimidating in person. The mass of shadows stared him down. Danny didn't know how to break the silence.

Luckily the Dark Knight took mercy. "Wayne told me you wanted to discuss your parents' potential future actions."

"R-right. Um. Yeah. Ok." Danny took a deep breath to quit his rambling and get to the point. "So. Some background info. Mom and Dad are ecto-biologists and ghost hunters. They spent their career inventing tech that runs on ectoplasm and publishing papers on the evils of post-human-consciousness. Their magnum opus was a portal to a theoretical dimension of ecto and ghosts. They built it in our basement. And."

Danny let the rings of transformation form. He began to float and at Batman's tensing, crossed his arms and legs to appear smaller. He looked away. "It killed me. Kinda. I am dead, but not. I'm a ghost, but I'm alive. I didn't tell them when it happened. They're ghost hunters, y'know? I grew up hearing the evils of my kind. But then the other Danny Fenton was announced dead, and they figured I was a ghost anyway."

Danny set his feet on the ground and turned human. "So I told them the truth, that I'm both, that I've been protecting Amity from the ghosts coming through the portal as the hero Phantom. But. Well, I don't know how much Mr. Wayne told you, but they're convinced I'm fully dead. They want me to move on. That's why they want the body."

Danny clutched at his hair in frustration. "And. I can't convince them otherwise! I don't- this reveal is already going so much better than I could've hoped. They're already rethinking their 'all ghosts are evil' stance. But. I can't keep living with them. They think I'm DEAD, Batman! That I'm haunting them or something. I can't do that to them! I can't make them believe me-!"

Large hands wrapped around Danny's own to gently uncurl the fingers fisted in his hair. "What do you need, Danny?"

Danny sniffed. His hands still held in Batman's own, Danny ducked his head, turning to self consciously wipe his face on his sleeve. "I don't know." He said in a tiny voice. "I want them to get better."

"..."

"Everyone always said they were mad scientists, growing up. I- I don't want them to- to end up at Arkham. But I can't convince them anymore. They need, like, a professional. But it will only work if the professional knows what's actually going on, and that means revealing my secret identity to more people, end even if there is someone trustworthy, I'll still need someplace to stay while we're doing this fucked up supernatural family therapy. So maybe I just gotta... fake my death. Let them move on. Wayne can tell them the other Danny got cremated already or something. And I'll... go... somewhere."

Danny pulled his hands out of Batman's grasp and stood up straight. "Yeah. Ok. Batman, will you help put Danny Fenton to rest once and for all?"

It's a Terrible Cover Story, Really :/

DP x DC AU where, when trying to make a cover story for why Jason is suddenly legally alive again, Bruce (and the rest of the fam) come up with a story that they had found the body of a child that looked just like 15 year old Jason after he had gone missing and went straight into greif stricken panic and assumed to worst! Jason had come back to them later (let's say he's 22/23 here) after recovering from amnesia, and DNA tests confirmed it's him. They claim they exhumed the body and had the DNA tested and it came back (and they make this name up, completely believing that, since enough people have similar names, this won't come back to bite them) as Danny Fenton.

It's plastered all over the news and it makes it's way back to Jack and Maddie fast: who are now completely convinced their son died on a breif trip they took to Gotham 7 years ago and came back as a ghost who just didn't know he was dead. When they try to bring up the topic with Danny, as gently as they could, they wind up learning that he's Phantom and start to think it's a split personality type deal. One is their son trying to greave his own death and failing because he thinks he's still alive, and the other is their son trying to live up to them as ghost hunters and trying to be the hero his kid self must have thought they were. They're torn up and grief stricken and try contacting Bruce about retrieving their sons body.

Bruce is freaking out because he thinks he just convinced people who may have been looking for their son for years that their kid is dead (and maybe he is! Oh god!) And Amity Park nonsense is keeping him from finding anything about the (half) living Danny, now attending community college.

Jack and Maddie are freaking out because they don't want to let go of their son, but also this can't be healthy for any of them or for Danny's soul, he needs to move on and they need time to rethink everything they've ever thought about ghosts to grieve.

And Danny's freaking out because he thinks Brucie Wayne, ditz extraordinaire (unless his kids are involved), clueless to a fault, Brucie, somehow figured out he was a ghost and outed him to his parents???? Not cool man!

[itstheghostofmypast]

Corporate Couple

Corporate AU Kim Hongjoong x (F)Reader

Summary: Marriages have their ups and downs, but what if your boss as the hots for you?

Genre: fluff

Warnings: slight language

Word Count: 1.1K

Est. Read Time: 5 min

Rating: PG-13

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels @illusionnet

Banner: @cafekitsune

You walked into your apartment ready to find it empty as usual; even though your husband and you would leave together in the morning, it was often that he would stay later than usual handling reports and whatnot- of course, that's what you get for marrying a workaholic.

To be fair, you were in no mood to talk to him right now anyway, so you were glad he was definitely not going to be home. Why did you two fight?

Simple, in your 3 bedroom, state of the art penthouse, you had a wonderful open kitchen, one with the facilities that would have the world’s best chefs wanting to use this equipment- this included a dishwasher. One that her husband, a respectable corporate slave, one earning enough for them to have twenty kids and provide them with a top-tier lifestyle, never used.

Yes, Kim Hongjoong, a man with a variety of wonderful qualities, brains, personality and good looks, had a persisting, irritating habit of not placing his used dishes in the dishwasher.

Hence, a merger, “I'm sorry love, I’ll be careful next time.” He could have diffused the situation, but how could Kim Hongjoong prove to be a stubborn bastard if he had diffused the situation? And chose to use the words, “Really because one dirty dish is going to bring the end of the world.”

Well it had not brought the end of the world, but she had managed to show him a glimpse of what that would look like. In the end, the two had slept in different rooms, had breakfast at opposite ends of the counter and had gone to work on different cars.

That's why when you locked the door, you sighed in defeat but also relief, glad he wasn't there- or so she thought, for when she entered the living space, she found a familiar hunched over back at the dining table, typing away.

Great.

With a slight “Hmph”, you marched into the open kitchen, placing your briefcase on the marble top counter and glaring at him, noticing him visibly flinch. Good, he should know she's still upset.

You turned to grab a glass from the cabinet, only for your phone to right, your sour expressions fading at the name of your work bestie, the only person who understood you- other than the stupid gremlin of a man sitting 3 feet away from you- Mrs.Song.

Swiping to accept the call, you put it on speaker as you began to take out the ingredients for dinner, “Hello, my love, how are you!?”

Her voice echoed in the silence, and you heard the chair screech, yes, leave you, bastard- of course, he was afraid of Mrs Song, hell, Mingi was as well- and Hongjoong knew you had not told her about your little fight because she’d been on maternity leave, but would you now? Was he ready to hear you talk about how bad of a husband he was?

No, he wasn't, honestly he had regretted it as soon as the words had left his mouth, he had noticed your eyes go blank, maybe you were having a bad day, or maybe you wanted him to not act like any other idiot from work, maybe you were tired and stressed- and he may have added to it.

“Missing you, stupid work and stupid men- how's the maternity leave going?”

“It's good…as good as it can be.”

“Mingi taking care of you?”

“Of course!” Her cheerful voice filled the silence in their home, one that had Hongjoong wincing. Oh, he knew what you were doing, “What about you? I heard the new board member was eying Joong.”

“Oh my god!” Slamming the knife down, you took a deep breath; images of that hag staring shamelessly at your man appeared before your eyes, “She was- I was leaving okay- and then she stops me and is just ‘your husband is a very good looking man’, and initially I was like okay? I know my Joongie is good-looking. Why are you staring him up like a creep?!”

Mrs.Song's laughter rang across the kitchen followed by a static, “Oh? So you're not mad at him anymore?”

Hongjoong, who was just around the corner, who had come to take a file he had left on the table, who had heard the conversation flow to another topic and who he had very much heard the ‘my Joongie’, decided to stay hidden, especially when he felt something brew within him at the sound of the way you were being so possessive.

“Of course, I'm mad at that idiot!”

He flinched at your tone, umm…okay so you were bipolar, and he fell in love with a mentally ill person-

“Hongjoong is very annoying, very stupid, very noisy sometimes too- he's squeaky too.” His face deadpanned at your remarks, “He can't cook, he can barely clean, he's a damn workaholic but he is also,” extremely handsome…”

His heart fluttered at your comment, and he heard you sigh, finally coming out of the corner to find her facing the stove, as he sat on a bar stool near the counter, watching her stir the pot.

“Well, that's true…don't let Mingi know I said that.”

You cackled at your friend's response, before mumbling, “Don't tell stupid Joong I said that…he'd be over the moon…his big head is inflated enough-”

A sneeze stopped you mid way, turning around to glare at the eavesdropped, “My queen, I will call you back.”

“Sure, play nice you two~”

Hongjoong watched you hang up before he scurried over to you and hugged you before you could react.

“Excuse me.” you mumbled, trying to push him off you before you grabbed his face, squished his cheeks, and frowned at him, “I was complimenting my husband because I'm possessive.”

“You're complementing your husband because you love him...and he loved you very much too” He mumbled back, holding onto your waist like his life depended on it, only for you to sigh and let go of his face, “I'm sorry, the dishes weren't a big deal-”

“N-no, they were…I should clean up after myself…you work too…and I need you to be active at work.” He hummed, gently swaying you side to side, earning a giggle from you, “Oh yeah? And why is that?”

“So you can keep me safe from the hag~” He sang back only for you to shove him away, “Good lord. Lord forbid someone finds a man with no rizz like me”. You walked back to the stove only for him to cling onto you from the back- a clingy Joongie was a rare Joongie, one that you loved the most- as he kissed the side of your head, “Let me set the table, love…we got a whole budget to make.” With that, he pulled away, his signature chuckle echoing in the kitchen that followed your whining about how much you hate work.

It didn't matter, though; you still had to go to work because your Joongie needed you to be there - a true corporate couple.

[fenya-scribbles]

Escape

♥--------♥--------♥

Pairing: Bangchan x fem!reader

Summary: Your boyfriend went too far this time and Chan picks up the pieces.

Genre: hurt/comfort, fluff, friends to lovers?

Content warnings: mentions of domestic violence, mentions of blood, curse words, nudity (non-sexual), lmk if I missed something :)

Word Count: 674

A/N: My first Stray Kids fic, inspired by The Last Night by Skillet. It just came to me. If anyone's interested, I could see myself doing one of these for the other members as well.

♥--------♥--------♥

When you turned up at Chan’s door, you didn’t even remember how you got there. You just remembered leaving your boyfriend’s place, running through the rain without a jacket, freezing and bleeding and crying. You just remember the fear in your bones. And now you were here. 

It was the middle of the night, but you knew Chan was awake. Chan seemingly never slept, which often made you worry about him. But right now you were glad about it, because he didn’t take long to open the door. “Y/N?” His curious look quickly turned into a worried one. “Fuck, what happened to you?”, he asked as he pulled you into his apartment. 

You wanted to tell him, you really did, but all you could to was break down crying. He immediately pulled your rain soaked body against him, arms locking tightly around you as you started to sob uncontrollably. “Hey, hey”, he spoke softly, gently running his hand over your hair. “It’s alright. You’re safe. I got you.”

You stood there crying for what felt like forever, but eventually your sobs died down and you motioned for Chan to let go of you. He did so just enough to be able to look at you. “You’re bleeding, Y/N. What the fuck happened?” He said as he pushed a wet strain of hair out of your face. You swallowed hard. 

“It was my fault”, you said. “I dropped a plate. I should’ve been more careful.” Chan raised his eyebrows. “Your fucking boyfriend did this?” He sounded angry now and you flinched at his tone. “Hey, hey, sorry”, he immediately softened his voice. His eyes went to the bleeding cut on your cheek. “I need you to know that this was not your fault.” You opened your mouth to disagree, but he immediately interrupted you. “Don’t even think about blaming this on yourself. Your boyfriend is an aggressive asshole. You’re not going back there.” 

You were too tired to argue, the heaviness of the situation suddenly hitting you like a freight train, so you just let Chan take you to the bathroom, where he treated your wound. “How about you take a hot bath, hm?”, he proposed, “Wash that pathetic excuse of a man off your skin?” 

It was so nice to be taken care of by Chan. He’d been your best friend for years and he’d never liked your boyfriend. Of course, your boyfriend had also not liked Chan and had tried to break up your friendship multiple times. Chan wouldn’t have any of that, and in this moment you were eternally grateful for that. 

Chan started to run the bath and then helped you out of your soaked clothes. Under different circumstances you might have felt embarrassed to be naked in front of him, but there was no energy for shame left in you. Chan was respectful and gentle, helping you into the hot water and proceeding to wash you with a soft sponge. 

“Can I stay the night?”, you said eventually. “I already told you, princess, you’re not going back there.” “What about tomorrow?” “You’re never going back there. I’ll handle it.” You looked up at him with tired eyes. “Really? He’ll be pissed if you show up instead of me.” Chan let out a huff. “Don’t worry, princess, I can take him.” 

Chan proceeded to wash you, wrap you into a soft towel and carry you to his bedroom. You didn’t fight it, didn’t want to fight it. Chan had always been your comfort person and he was exactly what you needed right now. “Get some sleep, princess”, he whispered as he tucked you in and pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

When he got up to leave, you reached for his hand. “Please”, you said sleepily, “don’t leave me alone.” He smiled and laid down beside you. “Alright.” He wrapped his arms around you, shrouding you in warmth, safety and comfort. “Never leave me alone”, you whispered. “I promise, princess, you will never have to spend a night alone again.” 

♥--------♥--------♥

Masterlist

[azelmaandeponine]

I saw a interpretation of Filbrick that is kind strange and I want your opinion:

"I consider him a man of extreme tough love and concerned with making money in order to provide for his family, and those are thoughts I subscribe to as canon interpretation as well.

I don’t view him as abusive like a majority of the fandom seems to from what I’ve perused on him.

At least he’s not intentionally.

His actions in some instances can be viewed as such especially from a modern light, but they’re never from a place of maliciousness or hate. They come from a place of love and worry, in a time where being emotionally vulnerable (having heart to hearts and being frank with feelings) for a man is not only looked down upon, but can be detrimental to overall success and survival. So he’s ’not easily impressed’ and closed off. Gets angry when something valued gets lost rather than being sad or hurt by it because it’s easier and safer. (there’s a reason why he never got rid of the ‘#1 Dad’ marking on his pendant that Stan had given him - that hit him where it counted and he cherished it).

Tough love was an extreme back then, and making your kid stand outside for two days holding a sign saying 'extra stan 2$' is certainly not the best way to go about motivating your son to do better in school Filbrick.

Has a very ‘spare the rod and spoil the child’ mentality because he knows no one else in the world will give exception to his sons having a heart and being sensitive. He’s the only one who they can afford to make mistakes with and learn from before the world gets its claws in them. He’s very loyal and doesn’t take kindly to people trying to harm his family… even said family. (why he insisted on boxing lessons, is part of a holy mackerel brotherhood, and why he even reacted as he did when learning about Stan and the project - he honestly believed that Stan had betrayed the family and sabotaged his brother because Stan has always been known for lying even as a kid [aka the pendent incident], it was an assumption that Ford didn’t correct him on and probably could have changed the whole outcome of if he hadn’t been devastated with the same feelings of betrayal).

Throwing Stan out in canon while in anger, was awful, I won't forgive that, but it did happen a lot back then especially at 17-18 when kids were both 'considered' or officially adults, and could go off on their own. You can still see that kinda thought process even nowadays in older folks to prevent 'mooching' or 'being a bum'.

I personally believe he’s just a man of his time and of his circumstances. Can come across heartless but does have a huge one just hidden away. I like to think he didn’t go to Stan’s ‘funeral’ because he still felt betrayed, yes (how could his kid do that to his own brother and force them to live in poverty and slog through life like that out of jealousy?), but that he didn’t go because he just couldn’t handle it. He would’ve been too broken and vulnerable about it. Or that… maybe he was dead by that time.

There’s literally no way anyone can convince me that Filbrick didn’t sit alone staring at that ‘#1 Dad’ pendant in the dark of his room without tears on his face.

Unless you’re Alex Hirsch, then I beg you not to break my heart like that lol"

What do you think?

I'm sorry, they lost me at "I don't view him as abusive". It's literally canon he is.

As for the rest...does this person know abusers can be multifaceted? That there are usually calmer moments in the abuse? Cause I don't think they know that.

All in all, it seems like this person doesn't know much about abuse, and can't fathom that a parent could be horrifically abusive to their kids because he was shown being fond of a gift one of his kids gave him.

[radioactive-earthshine]

hi orla!! i come bearing one of my favorite characterization questions. what would you say are bart's major character flaws? how does he react to making mistakes, and how does that change over time as he grows and develops? (i hope this is a fun one for you to ponder as well!!)

Thank you for such a thought provoking question!

Bart goes through some rapid development throughout the comics, some of it makes sense, some of it doesn't as is typical for all comic characters but I will go into this in with my best ability while taking consideration of how fast he changes.

His major flaws.

Early life (first appearances and through most of his solo)

The major one is the one that is his namesake, essentially - his impulsiveness which can be a strength and a neutral trait all at once. It is simple fact that in his more early comics he did not think through his impulses. He simply thought, then acted, with no time between to wonder if stealing a car and driving it off a cliff, while being pursued by cops, was a good idea or any sort of idea.

Lack of regard - this goes into him very frequently ignoring the well-being of others while he was trying to save the day - yes his solutions do work, but they also involve putting others in peril, both mild and direct. This however stems from the next flaw which is...

Lack of a fundamental understanding how the world works - this is not his fault. He spent relative to him over a decade in virtual reality where the rules were completely different where there were no high stakes, no one could get hurt, physics were different, and then suddenly after his whole life living in this world he is living in the real world... He doesn't understand the rules, he is not socialized, and no one really took the time to explain to him that the best way to help people from falling rocks in the real world was to get them out of the way, instead of punching the rocks. He simply has no experience with high stakes in his earlier comics so he behaves how he would in VR.

Also, he just doesn't ask for help because he doesn't know how to. Due to being in VR he doesn't often reach out for help unless he really, really is struggling. His first impulse (hah) is always to solve things on his own. This is also what makes Max's last words to him "Some things you just have to figure out on your own" very heartbreaking because that's all Bart was doing.

Later Impulse

As he ages and starts to understand how the world works he does still struggle with those mentioned above but he starts to know what love is and how to treat people he loves. He becomes less selfish, he has a better idea of what a hero looks like and how he wants to be a hero but he starts to develop some things that he struggles with such as...

A deep feeling of inadequacy as a result of years of bullying and Thad - We see this right after the Mercury Falling arc where Bart throws himself into trying to "do better" and it comes with some unfortunate results, mostly him developing deep anxiety.

This last point carries through to his time as Kid Flash and can be cited when he decides to be Kid Flash after he was shot by Jericho.

Other basic character traits that can be seen as 'flaws' that are ongoing and part of his character.

He is impatient, has a temper that is tied to frustration and passion. has difficulty standing up for himself until he cannot handle it anymore and explodes, and he goes with his gut more than he probably should.

How does he respond to his mistakes

Like anyone, there is a range! He can go from being "oh oops" to "oh fuck what is wrong with me I have to change everything about me to make up for this" depending on what it is.

The most famous response to his ongoing 'mistakes' and the bullying, and general abuse at the hands of Wally because of those 'mistakes' was him deciding to no longer be Impulse but Kid Flash.

In general however, when he does make mistakes he most frequently files them away as part of learning and doesn't often mull over them more than is necessary.

How does he change over time?

When comparing him as Kid Flash (and YJ19 Impulse) to his early Impulse issues we see that he grows in many ways, most fervently that he does think ahead, he does develop the ability to plan, he does think about others, he has more compassion, and is less selfish because he finally learns how to love other people over time.

It's what drives him to sacrifice himself twice with no regrets, it's what propels him to break time for Kon's sake, it's what drives him to choose the lives of his friends over his pet dog in his later Impulse issues.

All in all his major character growth circulates around his ability to love people, see people, and look ahead while still maintaining some those enjoyable 'flaws' like being impulsive and having a bit of a temper.

Thank you so much for the ask!!!

[rafaelcb]

"Oh trust me, you do not have to worry about me poking the plant," he laughed, gesturing to the little cactus. Rafael wasn't going to touch the poor thing, unless he accidentally nudged it when watering him, or maybe giving him some plant food. Otherwise, he was going to sit on the window sill in his office, getting whatever sunlight he could muster up. "We'll see how it goes. Start small and work our way up, right?" Because otherwise, he was going to end up with an entire office full of shriveled up, dying plants that he hadn't managed to keep alive, and that was just going to make him feel awful. "Ah, well, that, I can understand." Because boys would… well, be boys, and there was much more of a chance that they weren't going to be able to keep anything living for more than a few days. Rafael smiled at the thought of hens and chicks and the way that they were described -- it did sound like the kind of plant that someone like Cordelia would enjoy. Wasn't she basically the mother hen with all of her little chicks milling about? In the best way possible. "Everyone," he laughed, shaking his head, "you'll do good to tell everyone that if they want to see plants in the office, they can bring them in on their own." Whether or not they actually would go through with it was up to them, but. "… yes, she takes care of little tasks in my office, isn't keeping a plant alive a little case?" In this situation, anyway. He smiled sheepishly, shrugging both shoulders. And then, he turned his attention over to what Cordelia was saying about Cienna, how she was settling in, what life was like with the kids that she and Cage had taken into their lives. It was the sort of situation that Rafael didn't envy them for -- they were the perfect family to take in the children, of course, but it was still a big undertaking. "It'll be tough, but… I also know that you'll be able to handle it," he assured her with a small smile. "Shawn, being a little older, I can understand. He's still doing well with school, though?" Because that would be good, having something to focus on, especially with how involved he was with football. "Oh," he laughed, waving off the idea, "you don't have to thank me. It was the right decision to help you guys out."

"Think that's half the battle, not to think that your plant is ready to fight you. Just because he has sharp points doesn't mean he's going to go hurting you, unless you go poking at him!" Which if he was going to go and poke at the cactus, well he kind of deserved if he got a little hurt. "There you go, you can add to your little plant family as you get more used to things." Settling them on her cart, she picked up a couple more, knowing she could put them over different parts of the house. "Would get some for the boys room, but even with the limited care they need, I'm afraid they might actually kill them." And she was not going to venture into their areas to keep the poor plants alive, so that meant they would just have to keep the plants to more general areas. "So from what I was told they bigger rosette becomes the hen and it forms tinier ones around it making the chicks, which resembles little chicks huddling their mother." At least that was what I was told, whether it's true or not, guess I'm okay with buying the story because it's fitting." When he said that his office needed to be spruced up a little bit, "And who said that?" A laugh leaving her lips, "I'll have to remember when I someday have my own office, make sure to have plants so that no one makes comments." Glancing at him, "Wait, wait, you're the one who people are saying can't keep a plant alive, and you're going to make your PA take care of the plant? I don't think that's how it works, Raf, that means you didn't keep the plant alive after all, your PA did. No credit there." she make a soft clicking of her tongue of disappointment. Setting another pot on the cart, "Yeah, Cienna is doing really well, settled in. Think she doesn't fully understand still. I am kind of dying inside waiting for that eventually 'when is mommy and daddy coming back' for now she's distracted with Rosalyn, and we've gently tried to explain it to her but think it doesn't settle in fully. Shawn... he's got his good days and bad days, we're just being supportive as much as we can. Hoping that we can do whatever we can to make the pain even a fraction easier." Would it ever fix it, no, but she could love them with every bit of her body. "We can't thank you enough, for everything you've done with Cienna, think that has helped Shawn so much."

[purble-turble]

I know TT Red takes place Season 1, but how do you think he handles S2 to S5?

There's so many ways this could potentially go, where on so many ocassions TT Red goes to the future in the middle of an adventure and gets traumatized way more than how much LBD did to MK.

Season 4 would be such a mess, especially if all of TT Red's experiences got documented in the scroll of memory once he got sucked in, and then MK and Mei had to go through so many of these futures trying to find TT Red.

AND SEASON 5. Oh dear I think I know how this would make sense now:

This is post season five and TT Red's way of going "I don't want you killing yourself all over again, this is for your protection. Just like for Wukong, I want you to be out of trouble. Please trust me I love you dearly (BUT NOT TOO MUCH) and I wanna make sure you're alive and well."

TT Red becomes an absolute wreck by the end of lmk so far and I think it would absolutely show during this sort of timeline.

Oh my god.. ok, so that Season 5 aftermath you proposed is great, but I HAVE to focus on what you said about the memory scroll for season 4 because it’s fucking amazing!

Red Son gets pulled into the memory scroll, but instead of just being his past in its relation to Journey to the West, EVERYTHING he has done, including all the futures he has had to visit, all have had an influence on how the scroll appears for him.. He’s got some wild, temporal/interdimensional nonsense going on with him that makes the scroll act in unusual ways, so honestly why are they even surprised? 😂

MK and the gang all have to find their way through a bunch of different universes in which there are different versions of themselves but also almost every one of them has a Red Son, too.. So not only do they have to watch out and not lose track of each other lest they not know which of them is which (they definitely do at points, maybe even all getting split up and ending up in a future of their own) but they also need to figure out which of these Red Sons is actually THEIR Red Son so they can jar his memory and get him back to his normal self… this is easier said than done.

Also, it gives them all a little taste of just how fucked up TT Red’s solo time adventures are sometimes. They see versions of the world where the city is destroyed, where demons have destroyed Pigsy’s Noodles, where one or several of them have died, that one where Red Son sacrificed himself and MK is left sad and hollow.. not all of them are so bad, though. Maybe they get lucky and stumble upon one where it’s way far in the future and Red and MK are happily married with a family, and MK hopes beyond hope pLEASE let this Red Son be HIS Red Son… it’s not, but boy that would have been nice if that was his, like, “true self” or whatever this scroll is doing to them.

Eventually they make it to the start of it all: Demon King Red’s timeline. MK is desperate at this point to find his Red Son, but when he makes his way into this lavish throne room and sees a king version of Red sitting on a throne, he’s like “oh FUCK no. That is definitely NOT my Red Son.” All his friends are hemming and hawing like, well, maybe it could be?? Isn’t that how Red Son sees himself? Isn’t becoming that guy what he’s afraid of??? It’s kinda shitty, but maybe the scroll WOULD turn Red Son into Demon King Red.

MK isn’t convinced. He insists that it’s NOT POSSIBLE. In fact, he uses his Smartie Kid brain and deduces that, for all the rest of them, they were lost in a role of a person that they used to be, whether it was a reincarnation or an ancestor or whatever their deal was… but Red Son has never been (and NEVER WILL BE, MK insists) Demon King Red. So they’ve been going about this all wrong. They shouldn’t be trying to find the Red Son for each of these timelines and seeing if their Red has been turned into them.. they should be trying to find wherever their own Red Son would be in within that timeline!

In the case of Demon King Red, MK remembers what he was told about his time in the palace.. he dodges a hug from the mad king, leaving his friends to hold him off, and scoots right past him to make a break for the dungeon. He finds his Red Son locked up down there- short hair, tattered jacket, square glasses and all.. but something new as well: a red circlet on his head.

When he spots MK he starts to panic, he insists that MK go and leave him there. He shouldn’t have come to rescue him- he’s not worth it! If the mad king finds MK there, it will be all over, and freeing Red Son isn’t worth the risk! MK pries open the cell and reaches out for Red, insisting that isn’t true. He’ll always be there for him, even when he’s at his lowest because he loves him! Red Son still doesn’t go for his hand, falling back and curling in on himself in despair. He insists again that that makes no sense… MK should hate him. He would be fully justified to leave Red behind to rot in this cell forever.. it’s no less than he deserves.

MK has to grab him, cupping his face forcefully in his hands and making Red Son look up at him again to stop him from spiraling. No, he shouts, that’s wrong! Red Son doesn’t deserve this! Not one bit of it! He has worked so SO hard to change himself into a better person, and the fact that he is has been through so much and seen so many terrible possible futures but is still trying so hard means he is already a thousand times better than Demon King Red. He is NOT Demon King Red, and thanks to his own tireless efforts, he never will be! All he has to do is not give up that hope to make this better.

Finally, this gets through to Red Son. The fillet around his head disappears, and he blinks a few times in confusion, coming out of the stupor the scroll had put him in… of course the two of them are still in the dungeon, which is extra confusing for Red Son, but MK just takes his hand and leads him back to his friends. They’re still fighting to hold off the scroll version of Demon King Red, and I think upon seeing TT Red Son out of his cell and back to normal, he probably morphs into a horrific, ink monster version of the king.. and let’s say this is the scene where Mei’s sword gets broken and they all get separated again, so things go back to the canon plot line :U

Gosh that was fun.. I do love fitting my AUs into the canon plot~

[oatlystrawberryicecream]

the thing is willis todd would’ve killed anyone who fucked with his son, joker or not he would end you or die trying

[hauntingblue]

Jayce telling vi she won't make it on her own.... okay mr. projector...

[jonsnowunemploymentera]

Might be a hot take but a major character’s death is really only as good as the weight and the treatment that the narrative gives it. Sure, any author has the ability to write death as they see fit. But whether the consumer (of any given form of media) is actually able to emotionally connect and resonate with the departure of someone who has occupied a good chunk of narrative space very heavily depends on how it’s treated within the story. If it’s a major character, the narrative needs enough built-in breathing space. As in, the consumer doesn’t have to fill in the blanks as to how the death impacted the plot or the remaining characters. Let the narrative do that for them, and that would actually allow the consumer to better react and relate to that major death (sadness, anger, joy, etc). Allow the rest of the characters (who were impacted by the deceased) to react to their parting. Let them engage with the death in a manner that helps justify the character’s inclusion in the narrative to begin with. Make it clear how the character’s life and (especially) their death relate to the larger themes of the story. Because most consumers aren’t stupid. We don’t want our hands held at every waking moment, but we also don’t want our investment in a story to be insulted just for the sake of a cheap shock. Give us time to breathe and grieve. And respect that we have put in a lot of emotional investment in a story and its characters, and we deserve to have that acknowledged.

[flairza]

at this point qphil will be my oc now.

ermm he actually lives somewhere remote in teufort with his children and and his husband goes on too many business trips to count but he sends them all money so its fineeeeee

[somewhereincairparavel]

percy had an 'im a big three son' moment when he choked a goddess with her own saliva (controlling a fluid that was INSIDE her body) annabeth was terrified.

nico had an 'im a big three son' moment when he disembodied bryce lawrence (quite literally dissipating and shrinking his LIVING soul into a spirit) and threw him to the underworld, smashing his zombie warriors. reyna was terrified.

yet we were robbed of jason's 'im a big three son' moment where he sucks the air out of someone's lungs and makes them stop breathing, or damaging a person's nervous system with his lightning control, and literally cause internal bleeding, or a damaged/fried skull if he electrocuted hard enough (look up the effects of lightning damage on body y'all will get a whole list, tbh he doesn't even need lightning to do any of this, air control is more than enough since air takes charge of everything going inside the body, but this is just an added effect.) he could give people STROKES if he wanted to. he's the literal definition of burnt out kid who was suppressed from discovering the magnitude of his abilities, because one, his dad's ego wouldn't be able to handle it, two, because he, for some reason, can't be allowed to do anything other than get knocked out :/

also adding on, hardcore pjo fans know that after the ending page of boo, there's this fan story that rick chose to publish in the last few pages of the book where a fan reimagines the ending of hoo, in that work, annabeth collapses from an attack and percy sobs clutching her body. jason calmly asks him to step aside, and kneels before annabeth, jason regulates her breathing using his wind/lightning powers and brings annabeth back fully from her cardiac arrest, causing percy to be relieved. (I wanted to link the pics of the pages here so bad but I didn't have the hard copy of the book with me, and this isn't available anywhere online either, only in the original covers of boo uk and us version, so I edited this post and asked people to reblog this post w the pics if they have the hardcopy, and a kind blogger found the story I'm talking about and reblogged the pictures of the pages, you can check my reblogs of this post for the pictures of the almost all the pages after this scene) considering rick approved and even liked the fan's work well enough to publish it in the official boo book, I'd say rick was aware and never completely ruled out expanding jason's abilities and had them in mind, he simply didn't incorporate it into the books. (also W fan for giving jason the rep he deserves, I will always remember you, you saw the VISION before any of us did, the story was very well written, with great dialogue.)

[nightingale-prompts]

Danny adopts himself

It's a common joke in Gotham that Bruce Wayne will adopt any black-haired and blue-eyed traumatized boy he finds. So much so that even he leans into it. But he was completely shocked when Damian confronts him about having a new brother that he did not want.

Bruce could barely get a word in when the rest of the family arrived upset that they weren't told about getting another sibling after Damian texted the family group chat (for once).

Damian had encountered a boy around Drake's age moving stuff into what was an empty room. The room was now furnished top to bottom with glowing green lights, tapestries of stars, random artifacts, several telescopes, and model rockets.

He knew the moment he saw the black hair and blue eyes that his father had taken in another ward.

Apparently Bruce was the last the know about his new "son" who was currently rearranging furniture and asking to help Alfred with dinner.

Said dinner was an uncomfortable as Bruce was grilled by his kids on his addiction to adoption. Simultaneously they tried to get to know the new addition to the family.

It was easy to see that Damian didn't like Danny but it was equally easy to see that Danny could cow the boy like a border collie on a lamb. When Damian thew a dagger the teen caught it with one hand as it passed his face and then slid it across the table back to Damian.

"Try again. " Danny said "And this time don't aim to miss on purpose. If you want me dead you need to do better."

Damian put the knife away and huffed.

Tim and Danny hit it off almost instantly. The way they were able to bounce their thoughts back and forth made Tim believe that he found an equal.

Danny was able to understand Cassie immediately with just look in eachothers eyes like he was reading her mind but not in a creepy way.

Jason of course noticed the strange energy in the air around the kid. It was soothing. Like lavender wafting in the air. Well lavender for everyone else for him it was like opium. His eyes felt heavy like he had eaten a handful of poppy seeds. At the same time he felt full, like he had eating a full meal after starving for a week.

Whatever it is Damian was feeling it too. The demon looked even more his age as he rubbed his eyes and yawned. The crease in his brow gone.

Duke on the other hand was more on edge as his eyes flickered towards Danny before looking away. He had something he wanted to ask about the glowing boy but since no one can see it or just isn't saying anything he will keep quiet for now.

Next was Barbara who teased the new kid.

"So how do you like your new family? Ready to be the new robin?" She asked.

"Im robin." Damian mumbled groggily.

The others were waiting for Damian to finally fall asleep and glared at one another in a challenge to be the one to pick up Damian and put him to bed. Dick was winning.

Speaking of Dick, as expected he was off the wall excited to learn more about his new little brother. He wanted the full story as to why Bruce took him in. He could almost certainly guess it was because of a tragic situation and Dick was already ready to handle it as the greatest big brother ever and he wasn't sharing the title no matter what Barbara said. Even if she was Stephanie's favorite.

Bruce cleared his throat and the table went silent. "So, Danny. Where exactly did you come from? Why are you here? And how did you know who I am?"

Everyone went white. Did they all just risk their identities believing that Danny was a new Robin? Why didn't Bruce say something? Not even a signal for the protocol they would use.

Danny frowned looking a bit hurt.

"What do you mean, Bruce? You said you owed me. You said you'd give me anything I wanted if saved your son. I even helped you get back home when you got lost in time." Danny huffed feeling betrayed.

The table went silent.

Bruce made a few calculations in his brain before something must have come to mind. "I lost my memory for a bit so I need a bit of proof."

Danny placed a batarang on the table. The batarang had an engraving on it in a code that only Bruce knew.

"You told me to show this to Alfred when I came. We had a deal, Bruce. You promised me whatever I wanted." Danny huffed clearly insulted.

Just like Danny had said the code was the one Bruce had made. However this code wasn't a promise to grant a favor but to welcome someone new to the family. Past Bruce must have had plans to take the boy in but told Danny something else to lure him here.

Bruce recognized that everyone was right and he has a problem now that he's looking at it like this.

[plaidcowboy]

છ don’t you think rafe is scary?

── ✦ .ᐟ reader seeing rafe threaten someone

maybe you shouldn’t have followed rafe. he did tell you to stay put. that he was going to handle something. but you got bored. and wanted to see what rafe handling something looked like. well now you know.

your eyes widened as rafe pulled the firearm from his back pocket, slightly tapping it against his thigh, almost letting the guy in front of him become aware that he has it. not that he was going to use it.

the guy glanced at it, taking a step back, and raising his hands. you saw rafe tilt his head, and the guy went, scurrying away from the house.

you didn’t expect rafe to quickly turn around, halting when he spotted you through the glass. you straightened, glancing to the side, failing at pretending you weren’t looking. because really, you didn’t see anything. the interaction didn’t get violent. you knew rafe kept one on him sometimes. you weren’t shocked.

rafe walked in, speed walking towards you. he grabbed you, hands running over your body and head. “hey kid, what are you doing out of bed? i told you to stay”

you bit your lip, looking hesitantly up at rafe. “i.. got bored of being in there without you..”

you glanced out the window to where rafe and the guy stood just minutes before.

he followed your gaze, sighing. “how much of that did you see?” he slightly bent to your height, fiddling with his shirt you were wearing. you shrugged.

“not much.. just the..” you mimicked the tap rafe gave to his thigh. he smiled softly.

“i didn’t.. scare you or anything with that.. did i?” rafe’s intense gaze showed that he was nervous for your answer. if you were actually scared of him, he wouldn’t know what to do. the last thing he wanted was for you to worry in fear about him. he only wanted you to feel safe with him.

you shook your head rapidly. “mm mm.”

rafe immediately shook his head. “words, baby. did what i just did out there scare you a little? you can be honest, i won’t get upset..” only with himself.

“no, rafe..” you giggled. “i mean.. did he deserve it? was he not nice to you?” a pout started to form at the idea of the guy being mean to rafe.

rafe rose an eyebrow, softly nodding at you. “he did.. i only do that with people who cause a problem..but i understand if you didn’t like watching it”

you tilted your head, grabbing rafe’s. “i’m not scared of you, rafe”

he exhaled a small breath. “don’t say what you think i want you to..”

you shook your head again. “no, i like your.. protectiveness. that’s all it is. it’s very admirable” you nodded definitely.

rafe gazed at you “you’re the only person who truly knows me” he spoke softly.

you smiled at him. “of course. but you..” you tapped his nose. “..you should’ve known i wasn’t scared. there’s nothing you could do or say to draw me away..” you leaned closer.

“..kinda stuck with me” you frowned sarcastically.

rafe rose to his full height, pulling you into his chest. “i like it like that. you’re not getting away”

you smiled at him, wiggling in his arms.

“oh..rafe i can’t..” you slightly wiggled again.

“hm?” he replied, seemingly oblivious, grip getting tighter.

you sighed, accepting he wasn’t letting go. literally or figuratively.

[luveline]

Shy!reader and post prison Spence - the first time he calls her a pet name? I love that your Spencers always use “honey” or “dove” or “love” and we know she’d be a mess.

P.S. completely agree with how much I love the gentleness of your characters. The way you write Spencer in love is literally my favorite

ty for requesting <3 fem

“Are you sure it’s okay?” 

Spencer holds a hanging strap. You hold your own, core tense with the movement of the train. “I think I would’ve mentioned it before you got on the train if it weren’t.” 

You nod, glancing around the traincar at the other passengers. There's a stout lady wearing a large fluffy sweater, turquoise with two white kittens at her chest nuzzling one another in knit. A man with three bags of groceries sits just beside her. Further down, a teenage girl listens to music through leaking headphones, her phone reflecting blue light on her cheeks. 

“But are you sure I won’t be an imposition?” 

“You aren’t usually. I guess we won’t know until we get there.” 

“Maybe I should just find a hotel for the night.” 

“Y/N, I’m kidding. You’re not an imposition, it won’t be a problem. There’s enough room at my apartment for you to stay however long you want. Between all the books, that is.” 

It’s just not something you pictured asking him for. Your kitchen flooded in your apartment and the landlord had to put you up in a hotel until he could get someone in to make sure the stove wasn’t about to explode or catch light. But the idea of a hotel is rough torture —somewhere unfamiliar, living out of a suitcase, surrounded by people you don’t know without a door that locks properly. Spencer caught you sweating over it at your desk, pulling the story from you in reluctant drags with a hand on your shoulder. 

It’ll be okay, he said, you can just stay with me. 

Which is relieving and somehow a new can of worms to deal with. At least at a hotel there was no chance of seeing Spencer in a towel. Spencer seeing you in a towel, in your pyjamas, without your formal office protections. 

The worst part is the excitement. 

Terrified he’ll see it on your face, you stare at your shoes next to his. Spencer… Everyone told you he was a dork. When you joined the team in his absence, not once did you get the impression that the man who’d be coming back was like this. You feel like he’d been infantilised. Which isn’t to say he isn’t a dork, he is, he tells you the strangest things, facts or statistics to accompany each topic of the day, and he has all the manners and chivalry of someone who knows what it’s like to be as painfully shy as you are. But he isn’t shy. 

Autistic, he’d confided once. Probably. I’m better at dealing with it now. 

“You okay?” he asks. 

“Nervous.” 

“I know.” He grasps your arm as the train screeches on tracks, turning a tight bend. You’re grateful, but immediately flushed with heat. 

“I don’t want to embarrass myself.” 

“You couldn’t. I think I know you too well already.”

“You’ve known me for less time than the rest of the team, but you were the first person to offer me a place to stay.” You clench the rickety handle of your suitcase. “Thank you.” 

“That’s okay, angel.” He says it simply and softly, like you really are an angel. Something breathless to wait with. 

Angel, you think, heart skipping a beat, pulse slow and then suddenly ramped. 

His arm slips behind your back. “I don’t want you to stay in a hotel if it’s going to scare you. Besides, it’ll be fun. Like a sleepover.” He laughs. And you, despite your flush, heat sinking across your chest like a bruise, manage to laugh back. “I’ve never had one before.” 

“What?” 

“Never had a sleepover. I didn’t have any friends in school, and I haven’t had a girlfriend stay the night before.”

You look up at him with wide eyes, expecting a retraction. Not that you’re my girlfriend, not that you’re anything like that at all. 

He smiles at you. “Should we get takeout?”

“What were you thinking?” 

“There’s an Indian restaurant between the station and my apartment? We can stop in. Or we can order something to come. Or I can cook, if you want home cooked.” 

“No, it’s fine, you don’t have to cook–”

His lips turn to a quizzical pout. “I don’t mind.”

You want him to call you angel again. You want him to take you home, make you dinner, and you want to sleepover. Like a girlfriend, you want to wake up in his bed. 

“Sorry,” you breathe, “I think I’m just tired.” 

“Are you sure?” You nod. “Alright. I was worried you didn’t like the pet name, but your pupils dilated when I said it–”

You can’t escape him. One hand in the hanging strap above, the over on your suitcase handle, you have no choice but to stand there with his arm around you to keep you from falling, face so hot with it that you’re sure you’d be feverish to the touch. “It’s fine,” you say, too afraid to look at his face that you end up staring at the nice shape of his throat, his black and purple tie. “Call me what you want. Um, I think we should get Indian.” 

“Good choice, angel.”