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gf2bellamy · 2 days ago

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Hey, you know that one scene where spencer and penelope are taking their fitness test and morgan is the one making them take it so could i please request something where bau reader joins derek

fitness — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: working out ? 😭 a/n: hiii !! this is literally one of my fav scenes in cm also i added a silly little surprise at the end <3

You had to suppress your laughter as you and Derek stood in front of Garcia and Spencer, who were both sitting on the grass, half-heartedly stretching. The sight alone was amusing enough—Garcia’s oversized red sunglasses perched on her nose.

But it was Spencer who truly sent you over the edge.

The laughter that had been bubbling up inside you finally burst out when you took in his outfit in full detail.

Spencer Reid was dressed for the world’s most awkward middle school gym class. A red hoodie that was slightly too big for him, blue running shorts that contrasted hilariously with the rest of his ensemble, and—best of all—long white socks pulled up so high they nearly covered his calves.

But the real cherry on top? The red headband wrapped securely around his forehead, pushing his hair back.

“You better not be laughing at me,” Spencer grumbled, already suspicious as he narrowed his eyes at you.

You pressed your lips together, failing miserably at looking innocent. “No, no, not at all,” you said, waving a dismissive hand. “It’s just—wow. I really love the headband, Spence.”

Derek let out a low chuckle beside you, shaking his head. “Man, you look like you’re about to run a marathon… in 1984.”

Spencer sighed heavily and dropped his arms in defeat.

Garcia, on the other hand, was less concerned with Spencer’s wardrobe and more concerned with your presence. “Why are you here?” she asked, lifting her sunglasses slightly to get a better look at you and Derek, her expression filled with suspicion.

You placed your hands on your hips, grinning. “We’re your new PT teachers.”

Garcia’s face twisted in horror as she turned to Spencer. “Oh, this is a nightmare.”

Derek clapped his hands together, nodding. “Walker’s sick, so you two lucky ducks get to train with us instead.”

“Lucky day,” you added, smirking down at them.

Garcia groaned, flopping backward dramatically onto the grass. “Kill me now.”

“You know this whole fit test thing was just a formality, right?” Derek reminded them.“You could’ve gotten the whole thing waived.”

Spencer, who had been silent up until now, slowly turned his head toward Derek, his mouth falling open slightly in realization. His arms dropped fully to his sides as he let out a soft, defeated, “Are you serious?”

Derek smirked. “Yup.”

Spencer groaned, collapsing backward onto the grass next to Garcia. “I hate it here.”

You grinned and crossed your arms. “Too bad. Now, both of you—up. We’ve got work to do.”

Garcia peeked up at you from under her sunglasses. “I just want you to know, I am actively plotting my revenge.”

You laughed, reaching down to offer Spencer a hand. “Noted. But for now, get up, genius. Those calf-high socks aren’t going to run laps by themselves.”

Spencer sighed dramatically but took your hand anyway. “This is cruel and unusual punishment.”

Derek just chuckled, stepping back as the two of you prepared to put them through the most entertaining training session of their lives.

The two of them immediately rushed to the start of the track, eager to get this over with as quickly as possible. But before they could take off, you and Derek exchanged a knowing look.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Derek asked, the biggest, most amused grin stretching across his face.

Spencer and Garcia both hesitated, looking at each other in confusion.

“Uh… running the mile?” Garcia answered, her tone more uncertain than confident.

Derek let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Oh, they didn’t hear,” he muttered, glancing at you.

You smirked. “Nope.”

Spencer frowned, adjusting his headband. “Hear what?”

You crossed your arms, thoroughly enjoying the confusion on their faces. “The fit test is more than just running a mile,” you said, drawing out each word for emphasis.

Garcia’s face dropped. “Oh no.”

Spencer blinked. “Excuse me?”

You gestured toward the empty stretch of field beside the track. “Before you even think about running, first up—push-ups.”

Garcia groaned like she was in physical pain. “Are you serious? Push-ups? I don’t do push-ups. I do online shopping and deep dives into government databases, not whatever this is.”

Derek laughed. “Oh, this is gonna be fun.”

Spencer sighed heavily, already bracing himself for the inevitable. “Fine. How many?”

You exchanged another look with Derek before he smirked. “As many as you can in one minute.”

Garcia flopped onto her stomach dramatically, already giving up. “Just let me die here.”

Spencer, meanwhile, awkwardly positioned himself into something vaguely resembling a push-up stance, his long limbs looking entirely out of place. “I haven’t done these since high school,” he admitted, glancing up at you with mild panic.

“Then you’re long overdue,” you teased, squatting down next to him. “Alright, genius, let’s see what you’ve got.”

Spencer took a deep breath, then lowered himself toward the ground—only for his arms to tremble on the way back up.

Derek chuckled. “Oh, this is gonna be real good.”

Garcia, still sprawled dramatically on the grass, turned her head slightly to watch. “Reid, just know I am suffering with you in spirit.”

Spencer exhaled sharply, already regretting every life choice that led to this moment. “Fantastic.”

After the grueling push-ups, you weren’t about to let them off that easy.

Next up, you led them to a line of small obstacles—nothing too intense, just a few low hurdles.

You gave them an exaggerated, dramatic gesture toward the obstacles. “Alright, ladies and gents, show me what you’ve got.”

Spencer, still struggling with the remnants of the push-up challenge, eyed the obstacles with dread. He took a tentative step forward, only to trip on the first hurdle. He stumbled and fell flat on his stomach with a thud.

Unable to suppress it, you burst into uncontrollable laughter, clutching your stomach as you doubled over.

“Oh, that was beautiful, Reid,” Derek laughed, wiping a tear from his eye.

Garcia was in no better shape, her face contorted in mock horror as she tried to steady herself on the next hurdle. She managed to clear it with a half-decent leap, but the rest of the obstacles proved a challenge. She let out a little squeal each time she almost stumbled, finally breathing a sigh of relief once she was past them.

The next station was a set of metal rods—basically, a low horizontal pull-up bar designed to test their upper body strength.

Garcia was surprisingly good at it, pulling herself up with ease, though she let out a few exaggerated groans of exertion with each pull. “I’hate this,” she grumbled between pulls, but still managed to finish the task with a satisfied smirk.

Spencer, on the other hand, was struggling. He grasped the bar, his arms shaking under the effort. His body barely lifted off the ground, his feet still scraping the dirt.

You raised an eyebrow. “Need a hand, genius?” you teased, watching him grit his teeth as he gave another half-hearted attempt.

“I’m fine,” he grumbled, but his face betrayed him as he finally managed to pull himself up, only for his feet to immediately touch the ground again. “Okay, maybe I need a little help…”

Derek shot you a look, clearly enjoying the spectacle. “Looks like we’re in for a long day,” he chuckled.

The next challenge was rope jumping. You had them each take turns skipping across the line of ropes laid out on the grass. Garcia went first, her hops smooth but exaggerated, and she finished in record time, looking proud of herself.

Spencer, however, tripped over the ropes more than once. Every time he landed wrong, his face contorted in frustration, and you couldn’t help but let out a giggle. “Come on, Spence! You can do better than that!” you cheered.

“I’m trying!” he said, clearly winded from the rope-jumping fiasco. “I didn’t sign up for the circus.”

“Oh, I think you’re getting the full experience here,” you quipped, watching as he made another attempt, this time managing to hop through with only a few stumbles.

Finally, you and Derek led them over to the bleachers. You gestured to the steps. “Alright, now for the real fun. You two are going to run up and down these steps until I say stop.”

Spencer gave a long, dramatic sigh, but Garcia was already off.She sprinted up the first set of stairs.

Spencer, on the other hand, was a different story.

He began jogging up the steps, but there was something about his posture, that made it impossible for you to keep a straight face.

His knees seemed to lift unnaturally high, and the way he scrambled up the stairs made you laugh out loud. You couldn’t help it—every awkward step he took had you cracking up, and you had to look away to keep from bursting into another fit of laughter.

Derek’s laughter was more restrained, but you could see his eyes twinkling with amusement as Spencer reached the top of the bleachers, panting and trying to recover.

Spencer caught his breath, shooting you a half-annoyed, half-amused look. “This is torture.”

You smirked. “It’s character-building.”

Garcia, having finished her run, leaned against the railing, fanning herself dramatically. “Please, just let me die now.”

You laughed, crossing your arms. “Not quite yet, Garcia. We’ve still got a few more rounds to go.”

And with that, you and Derek took them through round after round, pushing them harder than they’d ever been pushed before.

The sun, now dipping lower in the sky, painted the field in warm hues of orange and pink. Spencer and Garcia, both utterly spent, finally collapsed onto the grass , their breaths coming in shallow gasps.

You and Derek exchanged a quick glance, silently communicating. Then, you put your hands on your hips and tilted your head, eyeing them with a smirk.

“What are you doing?” you asked, feigning confusion.

Spencer didn’t even look up, his chest heaving as he stared at the sky. “We’re… dying,” he muttered.

You raised an eyebrow. “You still have to run two miles.”

At that, Spencer’s head jerked up, his eyes widening. “What? It’s supposed to be one mile!” His voice cracked with disbelief.

Derek, crossing his arms and leaning against the bench, grinning.“Not on my watch,” he said casually.

Spencer and Garcia didn’t answer immediately. Instead, they stayed where they were, bodies sprawled out on the grass, still struggling to catch their breath.

You and Derek exchanged a knowing look. It was time to break the news to them.

“Time to tell them, don’t you think?” you asked, your voice dripping with amusement.

Derek sighed dramatically but his grin never faltered. “Fine.” He looked down at them both. “We already had your fit test waived.”

There was a long pause, and then Spencer’s head shot up, his eyes wide with confusion. “What?”

Garcia’s mouth dropped open, mirroring Spencer’s shock. “Are you kidding me?”

Derek’s grin grew wider as he looked down at Garcia. “Think about it, babygirl—you’re not even in the field. No need for you to do this.”

You turned your attention to Spencer, whose expression was one of utter disbelief. “And you, genius, already have enough case hours to qualify. You were good to go a while ago.”

Garcia, still struggling to form coherent words, finally muttered under her breath, “I’m gonna kill you both.”

You laughed, crossing your arms. “You can try, but I’m pretty sure you won’t be able to catch us after all this running.”

Spencer, who was still lying on the grass, barely able to keep his eyes open, added in a half-joking tone, “When I manage to lift my arms, I’ll be able to hold you down.”

Garcia, however, had already jumped to her feet and was sprinting after Derek, who was trying to escape with all his might.

Spencer turned his head toward you, and you saw that mischievous glint in his eyes. He didn’t even need to speak for you to know what he was planning.

You immediately held up a hand in warning. “No,” you said, laughing but serious. “Don’t even think about it.”

But Spencer was already getting up, his limbs wobbly from exhaustion, a grin still playing at the corners of his lips. You could see the gears turning in his head as he watched Garcia chase after Derek, his gaze flickering back to you with a knowing look.

“No, Spencer!” you said, laughing as you backed away, but it was too late. Spencer was already moving toward you.

Meanwhile, Garcia had caught Derek, and the two of them were practically rolling on the grass as she tried to pin him down, laughing all the while. “Gotcha!” Garcia exclaimed with a triumphant grin, holding Derek in place despite his efforts to break free.

Spencer closed the gap between the two of you quickly.

You tried to evade him, but you weren’t fast enough.

The second you turned to look behind you, Spencer grabbed you, his arms wrapping around your waist from behind, and pulled you toward him in one swift motion.

You gasped in surprise, but before you could protest, Spencer whispered in your ear, his voice low but filled with amusement, “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were my PT teacher.”

You froze for a second, your heart skipping a beat as he held you close.

Before you could respond, you caught a glimpse of Derek and Garcia, still oblivious to the moment between you and Spencer as they struggled playfully on the ground. Spencer’s hold on you tightened slightly as he kissed your temple, his lips lingering for a brief, sweet second.

“You’re gonna have to make it up to me for this,” he murmured, his voice warm and playful. You could feel a shiver run down your spine.

You tried to steady your breath, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. “You’re impossible,” you muttered, although your voice lacked any real conviction.

Spencer grinned, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. “I know.” He glanced back over at Garcia and Derek, who were still tangled up in their playful struggle, not noticing a thing.

You tried to suppress the smile that was spreading across your face, your cheeks flushing. “Fine,” you sighed dramatically. “I’ll figure out how to make it up to you. But you’re pushing your luck, Reid.”

Spencer raised an eyebrow, clearly pleased with himself. “I’ll take my chances.”

You glanced at Derek and Garcia, who were still obliviously bickering.

"Yeah, well, consider this your warning. Next time, we’re running the bleachers again."

#criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x you #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fic

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nolita-fairytale · 20 hours ago

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and for us, it won't be long | joaquin torres x fem!reader | chapter one

summary: after joaquin's accident, you reconnect with your childhood friend

warnings: hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff, eventual smut, spoilers for captain america: brave new world, swearing, use of she/her pronouns, friends to lovers

word count: 2.7k

a/n: so i think this is a small cute mini series of exactly 3 parts. i haven't written a fic in a while so this is wild but i'm happy to be here. the title of this fic is from baynk's song, grin.

You watch him fall out of the sky on national television, the footage juxtaposed with an exterior shot of the Walter Reed Military Medical Center that’s got been stock footage, resulting in the world’s worst case of emotional whiplash. The news anchor’s voice is clear—reassuring, even—as he explains the situation:

An accident involving the Falcon.

In critical condition.

The new Captain America at his side.

Hopeful.

It’s the word he keeps repeating.

The doctors are hopeful.

But his words are lost on you, traveling in through one ear and out through another. In a state of shock, you’re only able to comprehend bits and pieces because watching the man you’ve known for most of your life soar through the air—not to mention, in flames—and plummet straight into the Indian Ocean, makes you feel like you’re going to pass out.

It’s not like you expect for him to pick up—but you’re calling Joaquin’s phone, your heart practically beating out of your chest like he could—because there isn’t much else you feel like you can do. Besides, if, when he wakes up, you want him to know that you’ll be there.

You get his voicemail.

Of course.

But you can’t sit with this alone.

So you call your mom. And then his. And then three of you hold each other through the phone like he held your father all five years through The Blip.

And when all is said and done, after days of agonizing nothingness, you get a text from his mother saying:

He’s going to be okay.

It’s the seventh time in the last ten minutes that Sam sees the screen of Joaquin’s phone flash upwards toward the hospital ceiling, signaling that he’s got yet another notification.

“You should give ‘em a call,” Sam encourages.

Joaquin shoots a quizzical look to the man he’s looked up to his whole life, as Sam nods towards the cell phone once again, clarifying his previous statement with: “Your family, Torres. And whoever else’s been blowin’ your phone all day.”

His face falls.

The doctors had called to let his family know that he had made it through a successful surgery, and that he was going to be okay, but he hadn’t reached out just yet. Hell, he was almost grateful that his phone had been dead for days, crossing his fingers that the hospital wouldn’t find a spare charger. But then Sam came in this morning, brand new phone charger in hand, forcing Joaquin to return to reality: an overwhelm of missed calls and texts.

“I don’t-, I… I don’t want to worry them,” Joaquin hesitates, the disappointment in himself evident in how cautious he is. It’s why he’s been putting it off. He can’t seem to beat the nagging feeling that he should’ve done some differently—something so he didn’t have to make this kind of call.

But he knows he’ll have to face the music sooner or later.

“What-? What do I say? What am I supposed to tell them?” he asks earnestly, searching the face of his mentor for any kind of guidance.

“Tell ‘em you’re gonna be okay,” Sam replies gently, the reassurance in his words allowing the obvious to land a little softer than it would had he chosen a different path. Joaquin nods slowly in response, reaching for the phone on his hospital bedside table.

With a sigh and a heaviness he can’t yet name, Joaquin begins to scroll through the notifications. While he expects to see calls and texts from his parents, extended family members he hasn’t spoken to in years, he doesn’t expect to see 5 missed calls and 3 texts from you.

Sam watches carefully as a look of surprise washes over his friend, colleague, and wingman’s face, and there’s something different about his reaction when his thumb hovers over your messages.

“I’ll give you a few minutes, man,” Sam bows out, respectfully.

When Joaquin finally texts you, it’s just a stupid GIF of a zombie rising from the grave. You’re less than amused by his humor at a time like this, but your heart feels like it’s going to jump out of your chest as you see that the notification is from him. 2:08 pm

You: Not funny, asshole! We’ve all been worried sick. 2:10 pm

Joaquin: 😣You talked to my mom?!

2:15 pm

You: 🖕Fuck off. You know Lydia likes me more than you.

2:16 pm

Joaquin: 💔

Savage.

2:16 pm

I’m jk. Mom told me how wonderful you’ve been with her and Dad. Thank you. 🙏

2:22 pm

You: I’m just glad you’re okay.

2:30 pm

Joaquin: 😅

2:30 pm

You: Can I call you later?

2:31 pm

Joaquin: Yeah :)

You’ve never been this girl: the girl that waits by the phone for some guy to text her.

But in the days following Joaquin’s accident, you have to remind yourself that the fact that you’re practically glued to your phone waiting for updates is just a result of the fact that you could’ve lost him.

Besides, he’s not just some guy. It’s Joaquin: he’s the neighborhood kid you grew up with, the sweet seventeen year-old boy who took you to your senior prom, and the man that both of your mothers still swear to this day that you’ll marry.

It’s Captain America—Sam, he insists that you call him—who eventually puts you out of your misery by inviting you to see Joaquin, when he notices his wingman’s recovery is going better and better all thanks to his mysterious pen pal.

“I know kids these days can’t get off their phones, but something’s telling me there’s a cute girl on the other end, Buck,” Sam mentions over the phone one day, when the latter asks him about Joaquin’s recovery. “Hey, I’m not mad at it! Seems like it’s helping him.”

“Kid’s gotta girl?” Bucky asks from somewhere along the campaign trail, a hint of curiosity in his voice as he inquires further. “There’s only one way to find out,” Sam shrugs with a little mischief in his voice.

It’s not hard to swipe Joaquin’s phone, considering his recovery still requires lots and lots of rest. The last thing you had expected that day was a call from Captain America himself—from Joaquin’s phone, no less—asking you to come to DC to reunite with your childhood friend.

What’s even more shocking is the fact that it’s Sam Wilson himself, who’s there to meet you at the hospital. You try to keep your cool as you introduce yourself, but you can’t shake the giddy feeling of excitement that fills you upon meeting the Avenger you and Joaquin used to see on TV. He leads you down the long hospital hallways, warning you quietly that Joaquin was pretty badly injured, and he may have a little more wear and tear than you expected.

You don’t mean to gasp, but your sharp intake of breath upon seeing him in his hospital bed isn’t exactly subtle. Your eyes trace over him worriedly, as you take in the burn scars on his neck and the still-healing cuts and scrapes on his face. It’s the moment you realize that, since making the choice to join The Avengers, your superhero friend is not so invincible.

“What’re you-?” Joaquin balks, speechless at the sight of you. He looks from you to Sam, then back to you, before returning to Sam once more, his eyes landing on the man like he’s Benedict Arnold. “Sam, you didn’t-. How did you-? You called her?!”

“Wasn’t hard to swipe your phone when you need a nap every 2 hours,” Sam replies casually, as if he isn’t acting like the world’s most embarrassing dad right now. “And I got tired of watching you wait by the phone all day for your girl to finally text you.”

“Oh my god!” Joaquin groans, at the very same time you let out a:

“Oh he’s not my-!”

“Dude, we’re not-,” Joaquin gestures towards you in a panic, as he searches for the right words, saying a silent prayer that he can get out at least one full-finished sentence. “I’m not like, waiting by the phone but It’s not like I can go anywhere right now, man!” Sam chuckles only to be met with a very dramatic eye roll from Joaquin as he tries to defend himself.

“Listen, we’re old friends. We’ve just been catching up,” he tries to explain again, gesturing towards you once more.

Sam smirks, uttering an unconvinced, “Sure. Well, whoever she is or isn’t to you… seems like she’s been helping your recovery. Thought it couldn’t hurt.”

You laugh, exchanging a look with Joaquin.

“I still can’t believe you called her,” Joaquin shakes his head, still trying his best to process this.

“Well, of course he called me, Torres, considering you’ve always been shit at asking for help,” you finally chime in, with a ball-busting attitude he’s missed.

“Oh shit,” Sam says, looking from you back to Joaquin as he waits for a reaction.

Joaquin grins, gearing up to explain: “When she feels threatened, she has a tendency to lash out.”

Sam chuckles.

“Feisty. I like it," he smirks with a nod of approval. And he knows that this that’s his cue. It’s time to give you kids some time alone. “Imma step out for a second. You guys… catch up. Or whatever.”

You press your lips together, stifling another laugh, and waiting a beat as Sam disappears.

“Dude,” you start, taking a few steps closer to Joaquin, with a look of disbelief.

“Dude,” Joaquin mimics you, unable to hide the smile on his face upon seeing you.

“That’s like… Captain America,” you nod towards the hallway as you take a few more steps forward.

“I know,” Joaquin says back, an excitement between the two of you.

“Captain fucking America,” you emphasize..

You’ve really been doing the best to keep your cool, but you’re not sure you can contain it any longer.

“I know!” he fanboys with you this time, because Joaquin still can’t believe this is real either.

That he works with Sam Wilson. That he’s Captain America’s wingman. That you’re here, in DC, with him.

It’s as if a piece of home has joined him for the first time in a long time in this new chapter of his life.

The two of you exchange another smile and a wave of relief washes over you.

You take a beat and one step closer to him, sitting down in the chair next to his hospital bed. You shake your head and this time, the expression on your face goes from soft to a much more hardened and worried look.

“Joaquin,” you start, the tone of your voice a warning enough.

“Oh God,” he sighs, recognizing that tone.

“I could kill you,” you threaten, the next part reinforcing his more than accurate evaluation of you from earlier. “But clearly you don’t need my help.”

“Well, I did technically die,” he parries, light heartedly.

“Joaquin!” You interject, your voice going up in pitch as you cut him off.

“What? You scared you’d miss me or something?” he teases, meeting your fire with his.

“Oh fuck off,” you scoff, with a shake of your head. “It’s not-, don’t joke about that! It’s not funny!”

“Didn’t you just threaten me with-?” he continues, knowing all the buttons to press.

“Yeah, but it’s different when I-. Didn’t you just say that I have a tendency of lashing out when I feel threatened?” you snap, the worry in your voice enough to get him to stop.

You sigh, your eyes scanning him once more, because maybe it would be easier if he really were invincible.

You take a beat, and the two of you share a full silence between you. It’s comfortable, yet filled with ‘what ifs’ neither of you want to acknowledge.

“I can’t believe Sam stole my phone and called you,” Joaquin shakes his head this time, groaning again because Captain America really should be renamed to America’s Most Embarrassing Dad for this. “How did you get here so fast, anyway? My parents won’t even arrive till tomorrow.”

“Oh I uh-. Well, you’ve been busy saving the world so I haven’t exactly been able to tell you,” you reply, realizing that it hadn’t even come up in conversation via text yet. “I moved to Philly a few months ago.”

“Philly?” Joaquin asks, a little surprised, because he’s not sure he could picture you anywhere that has a properly cold Winter season. “Yeah,” you chuckle, immediately recognizing his look. “I had to buy my first Winter coat this year but… the trade off is that I’m only an hour train ride away from you now.”

His face lights up as soon as you spell it out for him.

“Well, my parents are coming in tomorrow. Are you-, think you’ll be around?” he asks, hopefully.

“Do you want me to be?” you ask in return.

He nods, “Yeah. Think they’d like to see you.” “Okay,” you agree softly. “I’ll stay.”

A beat.

And another silence between the two of you, one that feels much heavier than the last.

“You could’ve died, Joaquin,” you state quietly.

“I know,” he replies, the guilt evident in his voice.

You could’ve-,” you begin to repeat, your voice breaking this time.

“I know,” he says again, much firmer as he reassures you. “But I didn’t. And we’re here now.”

He reaches for your hand, and you’re almost angry with the way your body betrays you. With tears in your eyes you look back at him, shaking your head.

“Goddamit,” you swear with a small laugh. “You’re the one who gets hurt yet you’re here comforting me.”

He shakes his head this time, squeezing your hand as he smiles, “It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re here.” A beat. “But I’m still gonna kill Sam.”

You laugh, wiping a few tears out of your eyes with your free hand.

“And yeah. I would,” you finally admit, your voice soft.

“Hm?” Joaquin asks, his lashes heavy as he blinks, taking you in.

“I would really, really miss you,” you answer, a vulnerability in your voice this time that you’re quick to put an end to. “So don’t fucking do this shit again!”

Joaquin laughs as he squeezes your hand once more, knowing it’s not a promise he can make to either of you.

9:45 am

Joaquin: Mom and Dad left yesterday and Mom told me to tell you that she misses you already.

10:01 am

You: You can just admit that you miss me already.

10:03 am

Joaquin: 🤐

Thanks though. I think they’re a little less worried now that they know you’re close by.

10:08 am

You: How’s it going?

10:13 am

Joaquin: Good! I got discharged a few days ago and am heading to Wakanda in a few weeks.

New suit! 🦸

The last time you see me can’t be in a hospital gown.

10:15 am

You: I don’t know why you’d say that! It’s a great look for you.

10:20 am

Joaquin: 🙄

Guess I should’ve swiped one from the hospital to wear all the time.

What’re you doing next weekend?

10:21 am

You: Nothing. What’s up?

10:30 am

Joaquin: What do you think about me coming to Philly?

10:31 am

You: To visit me? Or just because?

10:32 am Joaquin: Yes to visit you 😆

Thought we could hang out before I go.

10:33 am

You: Yeah! I know it’s only an hour train ride in and out, but I’ve got a super comfy couch you can crash on if you want.

So that’s an option.

The next text you receive is a selfie of him, wearing a plain grey crewneck sweater.

You laugh. The guy loves a good selfie.

10:40 am

Joaquin: 1 photo attached

Rocky ain’t ready for this

10:43 am

You: LOL

Please don’t tell me you’re coming to Philly so you can recreate the Rocky training montage.

And if you’re wondering, I will not be partaking. You’re on your own with that one.

But yeah, I’d be happy to host you!

10:48 am

Joaquin: Deal.

I’ll call you later. We can work out the details :)

11:00 am

You: Deal :)

#joaquin torres x reader #captain america brave new world #danny ramirez #joaquin torres #marvel mcu #mcu fandom #marvel fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe #the falcon #the new falcon

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witherby · 17 hours ago

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With Dick being so angry about Conner breaking in i could only imagine how chatic him actually meeting Conner would be, like having to keeo him in one of those kiddie keashes or he‘ll try to kill the guy 😭

A 17 year restrianing a whole adult man with one of those kid harnesses

Honestly? Yeah. Gimme some genuinely angry Nightwing every once in a while. Let that parentified man get some of that pent-up rage out!!!

The Littlest Wayne: Meet the Family

Masterlist is Here!

Conner opens his eyes and sits up when he hears you step into his room. He stares at you incredulously, then at the darkness and the way it seamlessly folds and bends to your will.

"You're invulnerable?" You ask him.

"Yes?" He responds, confused. It's just past eleven at night, and you've shown up out of nowhere to chat when the only other time you've spoken was when he came to your room three days ago. "A bullet bounces off me at point-blank range. Feels like somebody flicked me with their finger, at most."

"Okay," you say, looking nervous, "because my family found out you broke into the house to talk to me, and they're, like, super livid. I just came to give you fair warning because they might, uh, try to kill you."

Conner chuckles. Your face doesn't change. He stops chuckling.

"What, you're serious?"

"They're looking for their stashes of Kryptonite right now. I hid most of it, but they probably have more I don't know about. Just...be prepared. And don't kill any of them, or you'll have to hide from me, next."

The shadows in his room curl around you again. You step into them and allow darkness to envelop you completely.

"Bye, Conner."

"Um," he blurts, cheeks reddening, "same. I mean, bye. Goodbye to you, too."

He hears you snort in amusement before you're gone again. Conner is then left alone to process, 1, that you were concerned for his well-being enough to come warn him about your family, and 2, that he made you laugh.

He can't sleep the rest of the night, giddy with the swell of adoration he has for you.

The next time Luthor has him leave the facility to do his job as Superman, it's when the first Superman has to go off-world again over a month later. Conner stops a bank heist, saves some hostages, puts out a fire, and helps a child find her parents when she wanders too far off in the mall.

Then he meets your youngest sibling.

His moniker is Robin. The implanted information helps Conner identify him immediately, which helps him realize that Robin should not be in Metropolis, and especially not in full costume. Alarm bells are ringing in his head.

"I was warned you might show," Conner says, hovering in the air as he looks down at Robin.

"Then you know what you've done wrong," Robin calls back, unsheathing a sword from his back and pulling a batarang out of his pocket. "Come here and face the consequences."

"I'm fine where I'm at, thanks."

"It wasn't a request, Superboy."

"Superman," Conner frowns.

Robin sneers. "Not from what I see."

Conner feels a flare of anger surge within him. What was the big deal? He just needed to see you. He didn't hurt you — he would never dare — just stopped by your home to talk. And you did the same thing! Why some human with an eye mask and a sword feels like they can berate him for that, he doesn't know, but he's not going to take it lying down.

Faster than Robin can blink, Conner snatches the weapons from his hands and tosses them aside, then flips his cape over his head with a sneer.

"Go home, sidekick," Conner says. "I don't have time for this."

"I do."

Something hits Conner's back. It actually hurts, which is the surprising thing, and he yelps as a man in black and blue spandex descends upon him and starts beating him with a pair of escrima sticks. He falls to his knees, overwhelmed by a brand new sensory input he hasn't experienced before, then brings his arms up to shield his head and curls up further.

Nightwing, his brain registers between the blows. But according to his knowledge base, the man is usually not this violent. He always pulls back from an opponent when they duck down or hit the ground, and Conner is practically in fetal position. His sticks are glowing green, which is not a good sign. Conner feels sick.

"Oh, shit — hey, he's on the ground, pull it back!"

"This wasn't the plan, Nightwing, cool it —"

"I think he's doing great. Let him get a few more swings in."

"Robin you're not helping!"

"Seriously, get off him!"

Conner groans and gasps in pain. His whole body feels like it's on fire. There's sounds of a scuffle happening above him, but he picks up on someone else's shaky breathing a few yards away.

He cracks an eye open and spots a civilian half-hidden around the corner, filming everything happening.

The birds want to come to Metropolis and mess with him? Well, two can play at that game. They're about to be hated by the masses for touching the city's new golden boy.

Conner makes a panicked expression, lifts his arm and waves it in a sweeping motion, and starts shaking his head.

"R-run," he wheezes, "go, get away from here, get to safety!"

"What's he — shit! HEY, C'MERE!" Nightwing gasps, pointing at the civilian. The woman turns and darts into the building she was hiding by, fingers flying across her screen like lightning. "God dammit! Red Robin, can you —"

"I can't," the third figure standing by him says, sounding just as stressed. Conner recognizes both him and the Red Hood's silent figure, who had been physically holding Nightwing back from continuing to swing on him. Robin tsks and presses a few buttons on his gauntlet.

"We'll need to retreat and prepare to do damage control. The batmobile is coming, ETA 30 seconds. What do we do with him?" Robin kicks Conner's arm.

"We can't leave the kid. He's got Kryptonite poisoning and we dunno where his boss is to dump him for medical help," Red Robin says, crossing his arms and sighing. "We gotta take him with us and get the shards out."

"I say leave him anyway. It's just a couple pieces, and if he's as stupidly strong as the real Supes, he'll walk this off," Red Hood suggests.

"We wouldn't have to debate this if Nightwing had kept his cool," Robin grouches. Nightwing has the good graces to look chagrined and tucks his sticks away.

"I'm sorry. I was just thinking about...I'm sorry. C'mon, B will skin is alive if he finds out we left him for dead. Get him in the car."

They're about to abduct him, now, too? Conner almost laughs at the absurdity. All of this, just for paying you a visit? It's madness. But then he imagines some other stranger breaking into your room to talk to you, to touch you, to hurt you, and has to focus his energy to not start burning everything with his laser vision. It's not really absurd anymore. If he could draw a full breath without feeling like white-hot knives are slicing his vary atoms apart, Conner would attempt to explain himself. But he can't, so he doesn't.

He doesn't resist when two of them lift him and start loading his body into the back of a sleek, black vehicle. Metropolis' threats have been neutralized for today, so he technically doesn't need to stay in town. Instead, he closes his eyes and allows himself to drift.

They're taking him to Gotham, which is where you live. He has no qualms with that.

#littlest wayne au #conner kent x reader #kon el x reader #nightwing #robin #red robin #red hood #this is just Conner Gets His Ass Beat: The Fic #featuring everybody's favorite weapon...kryptonite-coated escrima sticks!!!#Conner with a body full of shards: i cant wait to get these bitches cancelled on twitter dot com

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sully-s · 3 days ago

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Open in a different window to zoom in. So this is just a deep dive behind all the stuff I put in my last post I rolled back my picture before I did all the lighting and color changes to make certain details more visible. Fun fact I almost scrapped this whole picture at this stage because A. I was just burned out; this piece took me forever. B. As I kept getting more and more "neat" ideas to stuff in, I lost any real focal point, especially with the color scheme. After hours of trying to fix it in PS and failing, I was about to give up. I was like fuck it make it a night scene. Let me tell you all a world of lighting makes lol.

Anyways, enough about my struggles, let me give you the tour.

I love the idea that this corkboard was originally Phoenix's mood board in the beginning it just had his childhood pics from like the yearbook and that one time Larry got a polaroid camera. Then, a new year clipping about Edgeworth being Demon Prosecutor which led Phoenix to make his thesis about court drawings just so he could watch and see with his two eyes how much Edgeworth changed. - Then, later, he added Mia because she was his mentor. then Vinny (from the movie "My Cousin on Vinny") because like Vinny, Phoenix never understands court procedure but has very good instincts; and last Elle Woods who also went to law school for a boy basically his spirit lawyer lol. - Later, after Maya joined, she thought it would be funny to replace Phoenix's real reason to Steel Samurai. Also, it was fun because Will Powers was their client, so he should be their reason. Phoenix let them stay because it made Maya happy, and Phoenix knew that with Mia's death, she needed it. - I was going to add a sticky note from Miles that he approved, but I do like that Miles will never admit out loud or in writing that he enjoys the show. - A year later, Pearls tries to replace all the Steel Samurais with her drawings of Maya. Which Phoenix encouraged her to make during Maya's disappearance because facts. - Tid Bit: I was sad to cover up Will Powers' signature I really liked how it came out

Moving away from the mood board idea, I like that the cork board just became Phoenix's catch all. So his Law Degree which isn't the original it's just a sad printed-out version of what should've been his fancy embossed one. I like the idea that Phoenix never went to graduation. (Can't be bothered he's on a mission to save his childhood bff.)

Lastly are postcards from Edgeworth, his way of making up for all the years he couldn't write back to young Phoenix. - Also, this picture takes place some time after the 3rd game but before the disbarment.

Calendar whiteboard that I forgot to add the last row too so I guess in Japaniforina the months are only 25 days long.

I spent a frustrating amount of time trying to figure out the logistics of this paper trail. It really doesn't need to make sense It just has to make the room messier. - You can imagine Phoenix is looking over phone records or court stenographer's record.

So Edgeworth is a nerd; we all know this. But it annoys me just a tad that his nerd-isum is always just Steel Samurai (like I get it, it's canon), but all geeks have many fandom loves, okay. - So I just love the idea that Phoenix and Edgeworth (who are in a relationship at the time of this pic ) watch Better Call Saul, and they both bought each other a little plushie of the character they joke is them. -Edgeworth bought Saul for Phoenix (because of Saul's heart, not because he does shady practices), And Phoenix bought Kim (because she a really good lawyer who seems cold and is a workaholic who would break the rules for their Saul (used phoenix's badge in the third game )) - They keep each other's plushies in their offices, and if one of them stops by when the other isn't in, they put a sticky note on it. - Which we can see that Phoenix did need reminding because, as you can see, the date is 18th, and no mention of a dinner ;)

7. Now the whole reason I drew this picture was too show off my headcanon that Phoenix has a Harvey Birdman, Attorney at Law action figure that you know Gumshoe got him after Edgeworth vs. State happen because of Polly. And we all know that man would be a fan of old Hanabara cartoons. - I've loved this stupid tid-bit of a headcanon that it's been haunting me for years. That's it; that's all I really wanted to say with this piece, and look where it got

#ace attorney #phoenix wright #my art #fanart #shop talk #Thanks For Coming To My Ted Talk

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rainydayathogwarts · 2 days ago

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Never ending song - Sirius Black

summary: rockstar!reader - when your parents divorce, you decide to move to london to finish your last year of school, and take your music career there with you. what happens when you meet another pureblood rebel named sirius black. wc: 7.3k+ a/n: funnily enough this whole concept was inspired by The Ballad of the Witches Road from agatha all along being a protection spell.

WITCHES WEEKLY

In a twisting turn of events, rockstar y/n l/n ditches her parents amongst their divorce to move to London with her aunt.

A new light has been shed on rockstar y/n l/n since the beginning of her parents’ divorce. The singer songwriter, famously known for her most recent album “Heart of Chaos” was seen in court this week, finally showing her vulnerable side to the public, contrary to the heartthrob persona she usually puts on.

Her parents, two world renowned aurors have reportedly called it quits after more than twenty years together, and this week in another court hearing, a shocking event took place. When young adult y/n was asked by the court which of her guardians she would like to live with, the two parents broke out into an argument, causing the rockstar to have an astounding outburst. “Shut up! Shut up! I don’t want to live with either of you — I mean just look at you. One of you has a drinking problem so bad you shouldn’t be allowed to work and the other works so much and is so controlling and insensitive that living alone would be better than living with you!” The unfolding truth about her father’s drinking problem has opened a new case which could potentially cost him his license as an auror.

L/n’s aunt, her godmother, lives in a remote area in London, and owns a very successful boutique in Diagon Alley, one of the most popular magical villages in the UK. The guardian was brought into court this Friday, and the judge confirmed that y/n would be living with her aunt until she becomes a legal adult, in which case the choice of her living situation will be up to her.

This means that for her last year of school, the popular singer-songwriter will be quitting her studies at the Ilvermorny Institute of Magic to begin a new journey after the Christmas holidays at the hight ranked school of magic in the world: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The real question is: what will this mean for her musical career? Will she change record labels, or go independent?

Sirius’s jaw went slack, the tea he had previously sipped dribbling out of his open mouth and onto the newspaper in front of him. He frantically wiped away at the liquid, muttering a “No way” under his breath. “Padfoot that was absolutely disgusting” Remus commented, throwing a napkin at Sirius’s face. James laughed, rearranging the glasses balancing on his nose, but Sirius quickly interrupted him. “No, no, look at this!” He exclaimed, shoving the paper into James’s unprepared hands. Lily and Remus, sat on either side of the quidditch player, leaned closer to James, reading the paper over each shoulder.

“Oh hey, isn’t she the girl whose music you’re obsessed with?” Lily pointed out, finger resting on the moving image of you in court, shaking your head disappointedly at your parents. Sirius nodded frantically, snatching the paper back from his friends. “The popular singer-songwriter will be quitting her studies at the Ilvermorny Institute of Magic to begin a new journey after the Christmas holidays at the highest ranked school of magic in the world: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.” Sirius read out, a look of excitement on his face. “This is great!”

୭ ˚. ᵎᵎˎˊ˗

“This is terrible.” You muttered two weeks later, arranging the tie adorning your neck. “I feel like I should have thought things out a little more before deciding to move halfway through my last year of school, right?” Your aunt laughed, shaking her head from where she sat on your bed across from you. “Hogwarts is great, and I’m sure you’ll be a lot happier here than you were before.” You got off your bed, kneeling down to finally close your suitcase. “I hope so. I just wish they have something about spells in song. It’s my favourite thing to learn about.” Your aunt hummed, helping you up from the floor and rearranging the tie on your chest. “Well, the student can always become the teacher.” She mumbled with a smile. “Now don’t forget your jumper, you’re on the brink of missing your train.” You jumped up, grabbing said jumper alongside your suitcase and guitar case, ready to apparate to the station.

The station, bustling with magical activity, screamed of students excited to return to Hogwarts, with magical firecrackers flying across the platform and chocolate frogs escaping their packaging. Parents cuddled up nostalgically, remembering the first time they’d dropped their children off here.

Platform 9 ¾.

You sighed, turning towards your godmother for the last time before you’d leave her until the summer. Wordlessly, she wrapped her arms around you in a tight hug. Shutting your eyes tightly to savour the quick moment with her, you were interrupted by a bright flashing light in your direction. All too familiar to the feeling, your eyes snapped open, exposing the reporter and her cameraman in front of you. You glared at the pair of them, letting go of your aunt’s hug to flash her one last smile and a loving “Bye bye” before rushing onto the train, where you know the journalist wouldn’t dare follow you.

"Rockstar y/n l/n shares tearful goodbyes with her godmother before hopping on the Hogwarts Express to mark the beginning of her witchcraft journey in the UK. Will she receive the same praise in the land of the Brits as in the United States, or will her career fall short? It’s difficult to tell if the new audience will boost her sales due to its new exposure to her music, or if the teenagers of the UK will find l/n unrelatable. Only time will tell…"

The whistle of the train had you jolting awake in your seat, looking around the empty compartment to make sense of your surroundings. Sighing, you blinked the fatigue away, observing the figures crowding the hallway of the train. You followed the pack’s movements, gathering your suitcase just in time for the train to come to a halt, wheels screeching on the tracks as it settled on the platform, the door to the compartment slamming open. “Newbie, I’m guessing?” You spun on your heels, eyeing the boy in front of you wearing green robes. “What gave it away?” He chuckled, nodding towards your suitcase. “Leave your stuff on the train.” You eyed him wearily, gaze wandering down the hallway to see if he was trying to fool you. Alas, none of the other students carried their luggage with them. Cautiously, you lifted your suitcase onto the seats next to you, deciding to trust the stranger.

The boy stuck his hand out in front of him, a strand of blonde hair falling in front of his eyes. “Malfoy. Lucius Malfoy.” You shook his hand with a thankful smile, introducing yourself to the pureblood. It didn’t take long for you to notice the newspaper Malfoy carried under his armpit, making the carriage ride up to the castle uncomfortable, realisation of his previous knowledge of you dawning on you. At the glimpse of your smiling face in the paper, you wondered how they represented you today.

Were you the snobby pureblooded princess who threw away everything her parents did for her, or the poor, vulnerable teenager whose parents abandoned in the midst of their hatred for the other?

The castle was impressive, more so than Ilvermorny had been, you noted as you stepped foot in the entrance hall. You weren’t surprised that Malfoy immediately left your side, catching a snippet of the remark he made to his friend who met him in the hall, beginning with “Mate, you’ll never guess who…” Instead, you allowed yourself to be whisked away by a tall, intimidating woman who suddenly appeared in front of you, summoning you with an ominous call of your name. You followed the nameless woman down the halls of Hogwarts until you stopped in front of two open double doors, tall enough to reach the high ceilings of the castle. The Great Hall was full of students, some of which were still taking their seats at their designated tables. You felt as though every single pair of eyes in the hall turned to look at you as you stood in the entryway. The view was somewhat more intimidating than your largest selling concert, despite the decrease in number of people.

Gulping, you let your gaze wander to the man sat at the centre of the teacher’s table, returning his steady stare. Albus Dumbledore. You’d read books about him; his problematic backstory and the people’s tendencies to forgive and forget. Here he stood now, in charge of the next generation of wizards. You watched as he stood up, booming voice echoing in the hall as he gathered the students’ attention.

From the Gryffindor table, Sirius elbowed James, innocently sat next to him, desperately waiting for dinner after a rigorous snow fight with the other marauders. James hissed, turning towards Sirius, who redirected his gaze towards the doors of the Great Hall, where you stood.

“Mate she looks scary.” James muttered, eyes glued to your fixated glare, your overconfident posture, your perfectly manicured nails. “Yeah.” Sirius sighed in amazement.

Ironically enough, your composure communicated the exact opposite of what you were feeling. You had to consciously keep the muscles in your legs flexed otherwise you were sure they’d be seen shaking from the other end of the hall. You kept your hands flat against the sides of your thighs to ensure you didn’t nervously fiddle with anything, only moving your hand to flick your hair over your shoulder because it was itching the side of your neck uncomfortably. “Oh she thinks she’s so much better than us.” Sirius heard a girl mumble further down the table, watching as your beautiful hair was swept behind your shoulder.

“Students of Hogwarts!” Dumbledore began, silencing everyone in the hall. “Welcome back! I hope you’ve had a wonderful winter holiday. As I’m sure many of you have heard, we are starting the new year with a new student to join our community of witches and wizards. To welcome her, she needs to go through the rite of passage that every student here at Hogwarts has gone through. Miss L/N, would you please step up to be sorted into your Hogwarts house?”

“You’re joking.”

The hall erupted in laughter at your comment, which had come out much louder than you’d intended, and Sirius heard the girl who’d previously made a comment on you now say “Never mind, she’s so right about that.” Your head snapped to the tall Professor next to you, eyes desperately looking for her to tell you that Dumbledore was, in fact, just joking. However, she only smiled sympathetically at you, putting a hand on your shoulder to softly nudge you down the hall. In an attempt to ignore the eyes following each step you took, you observed the different tables around you. Blue, red, green and yellow. God, you didn’t care where you were put as long as it wasn’t the yellow one. That colour didn’t go with any of your clothes.

Your heels echoed on the stairs, and you almost rolled your eyes at the sight of the stool placed in the centre of the platform. It was too cliché. You sat down, folding one leg over the other before the same old Professor approached you, this time carrying an old, filthy hat. You returned your gaze to the rest of the hall, watching each pair of eyes scan your body before your vision was stolen, and you welcomed the darkness. The sorting hat was heavy on your head, and a few sizes too big, you realised, feeling the tickle of the hat’s rim against your nose.

“Eeny, meeny, miny, moe, I know just where you should go.” What the fuck? “Oh give me a break, I’m just trying to make this a little fun.” Fun? The hat’s raspy voice echoed in your mind, and you almost fell into a trance as it scanned through all your memories. Like a movie, a certain memory displayed itself in your brain, your very own voice echoing in your head. “Shut up! Shut up! I don’t want to live with either of you!” “Mhm, confrontational, rebellious.” The hat murmured in your mind before ultimately yelling out:

“GRYFFINDOR!”

Sirius was the first one on his feet, cheering you on as you made your way down the steps and towards the table. He tried hiding his disappointment when you were whisked away by a group of girls in his year group towards the front of the table, greeting you with welcoming smiles. Halfway through dinner, Lily had to scold him for how often he glanced your way.

On the way back to the common room, Sirius sped up, trying to catch up with you while dragging James and Remus with him by the wrists. The crowded hallways were the cause of Sirius's lack of success, and he huffed loudly when he couldn’t manage to slip past someone, the gap between you and him increasing as people pushed past him. When he finally made his way through the Fat Lady’s portrait, he grinned widely, eyes scanning the cozy common room, only for the smile to fall from his face when he couldn’t spot you in any of the seventh year students’ usual spots.

He was too late; you’d already been whisked away to your dorm.

It was only a week later that he’d managed to finally speak to you, despite sharing most classes with you. Mary and Marlene had clearly become close to you, and you’d even gotten to meet Lily, but Sirius? Well, you had no idea who he was.

୭ ˚. ᵎᵎˎˊ˗

Sirius, Remus and James were late to class. They had been doing so well with being on time and avoiding useless detentions, a resolution they had made together for the new year. They rounded the corner of the hallway, panting loudly as they ran, trying to catch the stairs before they shifted again, which would inevitably make them even later.

You sat on the stairs with a bored expression, leaning your chin on your hand, your bag on the floor next to you. You had gotten here a few minutes ago, and just like the three marauders, had missed the stairs. Loud groans pulled you out of your train of thoughts, looking up to see where the voice had come from to find three boys your age — the marauders. They were all panting: Remus had his hands on his hips, head thrown back to catch his breath, and James had crouched down, leaning his head on the stair’s railing. “You alright?” The mysterious boy caught your attention. He stood nearly directly behind you and had long curly hair and a sweet smile, though his eyebrows were pulled together in concern at the sight of you sat alone on the stairs. Just like his other two friends, his chest was heaving as he tried to catch his breath, cheeks slightly rosy. You nodded softly “Yeah, gave up trying to find my way to class ten minutes ago.” Sirius chuckled, moving to sit down next to you. You could hear his heavy breathing, but he still asked “What class do you have next?”

Sirius knew what class you had next.

You had transfigurations, same as him. But you hadn’t noticed that you shared the class with the boy, unlike him, who had internally cheered when you first walked into the transfigurations classroom. “Transfigurations. Marlene gave me a tour of this whole place like a week ago but I still can’t get my head wrapped around it.”

“You let Marlene give you a tour?” Remus’s voice suddenly sprung up, causing you to look at Sirius in confusion. He felt his heart surge as he realised you were looking at him to clarify. You had instantly chosen to trust him. “Was I not supposed to?” Sirius shrugged with a smile, “She’s just not the most… knowledgeable person of the castle. She still gets lost getting from the common room to the Great Hall sometimes.” Your laugh surprised him, and you reached a hand out to him, saying “I’m y/n, by the way.” Sirius’s grin widened impossibly as he shook your hand, introducing himself and the marauders behind him.

“Well, we’ll walk you to class. We’ve got McGonagall too.” You shook your head at Sirius’s offer, pushing yourself off the ground to stand up. “No way I’m going class 15 minutes late. I’m not waiting to be humiliated in front of a full class of people who probably already know who I am.”

“Fair enough.” Sirius stated, mimicking your movements. You shot him a look from the corner of your eye. “I take it you know who I am then?” Sirius’s cheeks darkened, but he didn’t let the exposure humiliate him. You’d think he was pathetic. He puffed his chest out confidently. “You could say I’m an avid enjoyer of your music. But that doesn’t make you any different to the next guy.” With the smile that blossomed on your face, someone would have thought that Sirius gave you the most flattering compliment. “Okay, good to know, Mr. Sirius.”

“Black.” He added, “Sirius Black.” Your eyes widened slightly at the name. Pureblood, you noted. One of the sacred 28. You both looked at each other with acknowledgment. He knew who you were, and you knew who he was. You took the silent moment to take in his features: striking silver jewellery on his fingers and around his neck, you spotted tattoos creeping up the collar of his uniform. A rebel. As his eyes bore into yours, you instantly knew there was a mutual understanding between you. And without another word, you were turning the corner to the next hallway and disappearing from Sirius’s sight until the evening came.

You lingered at the bottom of the stairwell to the girls’ dormitories, debating on making an approach or not. You liked Sirius. He obviously related to the parental pressure, and didn’t care too much about you no matter how much he liked your music. And he had style. Realistically, it was also about time to make friends other than your dorm-mates and their one friend. You imagined that no matter what happened, it wouldn’t be worse than your interaction with Malfoy. “Sorry.” You muttered, moving away from the staircase to let some girls make their way up to their dorms.

Feeling the girls look back at you, you mustered the courage you had to stroll across the common room towards where Sirius sat with his intimidating group of friends. The group turned their attention to you as you approached them, and you ignored the nerves building up in your gut, instead saying “Hey”, though it was mainly pointed towards Sirius. The boy was already making space for you to sit down next to him before you had the chance to ask. You were grateful when the others around you carried on with their conversations, turning towards Sirius. “Hey Sirius, do you know if there’s an extracurricular or something about spells in song?” The boy in front of you furrowed his eyebrows as though he had never heard of the concept before, and you knew that was a bad sign.

“You know, like when protection or love spells are, like, weaved into music?” Sirius straightened up in front of you, whisper yelling “What? Wait, do you do that with your songs?” You felt your face heat up and leaned back into the cushiony couch. “Kind of. I’m trying — learning.”

Unfortunately, Sirius had let you know that he hadn’t heard of such thing in the castle. In fact, he didn’t think that spells in song was a concept known between wizard and witches in the UK. That would be something you’d have to change. However, he was kind enough to lead you to the library, where he insisted on staying with you to find all your books on the subject so that you’d have someone to guide you back to the common room. It was so that you wouldn’t get lost again, obviously.

The library didn’t seem to have much on the topic, despite its grand size. You sighed, putting the books you’d found on the table in front of you. Your aunt seemed to stand correct, the student was becoming the teacher. Sirius sat patiently at the table, watching you ponder silently for a moment. You opened the first book, scanning its table of contents, before shutting it closed again. “This isn’t going to work.” You mumbled, putting both hands on your hips. You chose one of the textbooks at random, shoving it in your bag and gesturing for Sirius to follow you. You trotted out of the library, ignoring Sirius’s claim that you had to sign the book out. “I’m just borrowing it!” You exclaimed, taking the first flight of stairs up. Sirius had trouble catching up with you, and was quickly lured into a hallway he didn’t recognise. A hallway on the fifth floor.

“What are we doing up here?” He asked, breathing heavily. You ignored his question, instead whispering under your breath “Where is it?” Sirius matched your pace as you came to a slow walk, pacing in circles around the same pillar. “I swear it was here.” “What was here?” Sirius asked, watching you. But his question was quickly answered for him when a big wooden door appeared on the empty wall in front of you both. Matching gasps left your lips, and Sirius cautiously watched as you walked up to the door, placing a hand on its peeling paint. “The music room.” You mumbled, finally pushing the door open.

Sirius followed you through the wooden door, jumping slightly when it slammed close behind him. His breath had been taken away. The room was enormous. It had a stage with a grand piano and several percussion and string instruments littered around the room. There were even muggle microphones, which he knew you often used in concerts, contrary to the normal amplification spell.

In all seven years at Hogwarts, Sirius and the marauders had restlessly tried looking for this room: the room of Come and Go. They had read about it, doubting its existence after years of failure. And here you were, not even three weeks into your time at Hogwarts, and you had found it. “This isn’t a music room,” Sirius started, looking around. Your footsteps came to a halt, and you spun around to face him with your eyebrows raised. “This is the room of requirements. I never thought I'd live to see it.” Sirius returned his attention to you, a glint in his eyes like he was eleven, seeing Honeydukes for the first time. He’d have to take you there one day.

“It gives you a room you want the most. And you… You really want somewhere to play your music.” He guessed, eyes filled with empathy. You hummed. “Not just play. Write, compose. Sing too loud sometimes and embarrass myself.” Sirius laughed, and you joined in until a comfortable silence fell between the two of you. You spun on your feet and ran towards the stage, putting your hands on the floor of the stage and jumping so you could roll onto the elevated surface. Sirius followed you, equal ecstasy in his movements. Sirius sighed, staying laid down on the ground.

You grinned down at Sirius, a microphone now in your hand, and asked “Do you play any instruments, Mr. Black?” Sirius’s cheeks bloomed with a bright blush, and he sat up straight, shyly muttered “I play the piano.” You laughed, nodding at his words “Okay, I see. Pureblood parents force you to play? Let me guess, you have a sibling and they play the violin.” Sirius scoffed, muttering “Shut up” as he stood up, though his bold smile didn’t budge.

“I have skills. I’ll show you.” You hummed, unconvinced, watching as Sirius sat down in front of the grand piano, fingers skillfully resting on the keys. His fingers danced across the keys, and despite the years it’s been since he’s touched the instrument, he didn’t make a single mistake, shutting his eyes as he let the music flow through his veins. Sirius opened his eyes to glance up at you, and when he spotted the mesmerised smile on your face, he felt his fingers press all the wrong keys, causing an unpleasant sound to fill the room. “Sorry!” You both cried out, and Sirius furrowed his eyebrows at you. “I distracted you, I didn’t mean to.” Sirius shook his head, gesturing a hand towards you. “It’s your turn now.”

You and Sirius spent all night in the room of requirements, playing music and trying to teach him how to play the guitar. He took a particular interest in the electric one, which you immediately thought suited him. He was more than just a piano player. Sirius was a rockstar, whether he knew it yet or not.

“So tell me about this spell in song thing.” Sirius brought up after a long break from music. You had just returned from the kitchens, thankfully not too far from this hidden room, and had only narrowly missed some Professor who was doing their rounds. “Well, from what I’ve learned, you can either make the music to a song a spell, so that when the instruments are played together, a spell is cast. Or it could be the lyrics that are the spell. The difference between that and a normal spell is that the lyrics are real words, but our spells that we cast as witches and wizards are mostly latin. Never the spoken language that we use. But then it gets complicated, because if someone wants to replicate the spell, everything has to be the same. Each note, each harmony. Otherwise, the spell risks being a curse.”

Sirius was silent. He didn’t even have any questions. “Have you heard of the Ballad of the Witches’ Road?” You asked, and the boy nodded “You recorded your own version of it.” You grinned, nodding eagerly. “Well, the song was written centuries ago — no one knows by who or where it was written, but it became crazy popular. The original song wasn’t a spell, but then each version of it that was created afterwards had its own different spell. The sacred chant version uses the chant itself as the spell, but in the version that is most popular now, the guitar solo is a protection spell. I don’t know how it works, I really don’t.” Sirius’s mouth was gaped open, a silent question lingering in the air, but you refused to answer it if he didn't explicitly ask you. “And in your version?”

You cleared your throat, looking down at the guitar in front of you. “In my version, my voice is a love spell. I played it to my parents in hopes that they would fall back in love. Clearly, it didn’t work.”

୭ ˚. ᵎᵎˎˊ˗

Over the next couple of weeks, you’d decided that you’d asked Sirius to come up with you to your music room too often. You were being a burden. If he wanted to come with you, he could always ask. You’d grown fond of the boy, and even his friends, though you never asked to sit with them. At breakfast, Sirius would wave you over, and you’d happily sit next to him, smiling and nodding along to the conversation, only ever speaking if a question was directed towards you.

In lessons, you’d sit and write song lyrics in a note book you took with you everywhere, and Professors loved to target you with bombardments of questions. You’d shut your book, tilt your head to the side and flawlessly answer every question thrown at you. They hated it, but it made Sirius smile. He was lucky that while people admired you in the hallways, he could call out your name, jog up next to you and hold enjoyable conversations with you. He even ditched his friends to go to Hogsmeade with you. When he’d asked you to come with the group, you stared at your hands, declining his offer respectfully.

“How about just us, then?”

“Sirius, you don’t have to ditch your friends for me.”

“But you are my friend.”

It hadn’t been a very successful outing, despite you and Sirius having a wonderful time. He took you to Honeydukes and smiled at the amazed expression on your face when you gasped. You dragged him over to the music store and signed a record of your album a young girl was buying. But when you both finally decided it was time to cozy up with a butterbeer, arms linked together, you met unpleasant company at the door of the three broomsticks.

Years of experience allowed you to spot reporters and journalists from a mile away. You stopped in your tracks, pulling Sirius back by the arm you had hooked with yours. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He had asked, following your line of sight. “Sirius, those are-” But it was too late, because they had finally seen you. The lady immediately sped towards you with a list of questions she was ready to ask whilst the man next to her pulled out an expensive camera and immediately started taking photos, the flash blinding you each time it went off. Sirius instantly tried shielding you from the pair, his hand slipping into yours so you wouldn’t lose him. Sirius dragged you into the popular pub, and by magic, Madame Rosemerta appeared and locked the door before the reporters could enter.

Sirius had immediately asked you if you were okay, but his question was drowned out by laughs coming from the other side of the pub. It was the same blond boy who had met you on the train, with his insolent group of friends who were joking about the encounter. Well, now you knew exactly who had ratted you out to the reporters. “Here, sweetheart.” Had said Sirius as he offered you a fresh butterbeer, but your mood had already been spoiled, and all you wanted to do was return to the castle.

“Look, Sirius, you’re wonderful, and I’ve had so much fun but-” your consistent glances towards the door had given what you wanted to say away, and Sirius nodded again. “Hey, I’ll walk back with you, okay?” Thankfully, the reporters were already gone by the time you left the pub, and you dug around in your pocket to pay Sirius for the butterbeer. “Don’t be ridiculous.” He had said, rejecting your two silver sickles.

Once in the castle once more, you hid in your dorm for the rest of the day, dreading the headline that would be on the papers tomorrow. Maybe they would scare Sirius away and he’ll stop spending time with you. Fuck, that would be the worst thing to ever happen to you, you thought, digging your head into your pillow.

You were very aware of your blooming feelings towards the curly-headed boy. In fact, every time you sat alone, or even in a lesson, and picked up a pencil, the only song lyrics you could thing about writing were about him. He invaded your mind, and usually, you wouldn’t complain about having some inspiration, but now? Well, you liked him so much you wanted him to collaborate on your music with you, to sing and to play with you. But you couldn’t do that if every single song you wrote was about falling head over heels for him.

Downstairs in the common room, Sirius was clenching his fists over the incident with the reporter. He went on about how you’d had so much fun together, all for it to be ruined by a two-minute encounter. “That shouldn’t happen to anyone! Fuck, I swear I’ll beat Malfoy up.” He said to his friends, letting his head fall back on the couch. James looked at him empathetically, but after a moment of silence, he shot a look to the other marauder who sat across from them, an idea suddenly popping up in his mind. Remus was already holding a quill in hand, parchment laid out in front of him.

“Hey, instead of beating that blond bitch up, how about we do something worse?”

୭ ˚. ᵎᵎˎˊ˗

THE DAILY PROPHET

Heart of Chaos? More like heart of romance!

The young rockstar y/n l/n was seen cozying up with pureblood rebel Sirius Black at Hogsmeade on Sunday. As seen in the image, the couple was very physically close to each other, making fans wonder what is going on behind closed doors. Though we only have limited information on the topic, an anonymous source at Hogwarts has revealed to us this piece of information:

“Sirius Black is the only person she’ll speak to. Everyone is so welcoming to her, but she either spends time alone writing things, or she spends time with him. He’s probably the inspiration for her new album. I mean, you know how it is, the girl’s last album was literally called ‘Heart of Chaos’! All she does is probably write about boys!”

Everyone’s eyes were on you on Monday during breakfast, watching as you read the article about your so called love life. The worst part of the article wasn’t the assumption that you and Sirius were together, or that you were having sex ‘behind closed doors’. No, it was the assumption that your last album had been about boys when it had truly been about broken trust and personal healing. Hence, the Heart of Chaos.

Sirius noticed you hadn’t had anything to eat for breakfast, so when he saw you abruptly stand up, he pocketed an apple to bring to you later. He just hoped that Malfoy came down for breakfast before you left.

And indeed, an unrecognisable Lucius Malfoy ran down to the Great Hall just as you turned to face the entrance. Loud gasps and laughter was heard instantly at the sight of the disheveled teenager. Lucius had been transformed into your number one fan. His face had been made up for him to resemble a rock fan. A big, glittery, red star was painted around his eye, the other one sporting bold eyeshadow and liner. He wore heavy lashes that he couldn't tear off, and the best bit? Every single piece of clothing in the boy’s closet had been turned into merchandise you recently launched to promote your tour beginning this summer. In a desperate attempt to appear anywhere near normal, Lucius had begged Evan to lend him clothes, but the second he pulled the uniform on, it had also been transfigured into more merch.

“What have you done to me!?” He screamed over the laughter, marching over to the Gryffindor table, his gaze fixed on the marauders. You took confident strides towards Lucius until you stood right in front of him, blocking his route towards the three boys. The hall went silent when you put your hands on your hips, everyone listening closely to what you had to say. “And for the record, Malfoy, my last album wasn’t about boys, which I thought you might know considering you have been so far up my ass recently, you could practically see what I had for dinner last night.” You walked away from Malfoy as he stood in the middle of the Great Hall, an embarrassed flush on his face.

“Don’t worry,” Announced Sirius, standing up and beginning to follow you. “It wears off after 72 hours… I think.”

୭ ˚. ᵎᵎˎˊ˗

Sirius was only able to find you a few hours later in the room of requirements, separated by clashing schedules. Sirius pulled the apple out of his pocket, offering it to you when he finally reached you. “Didn’t see you eat this morning.” You jumped at the sound of Sirius’s voice, a wide smile on our face as you shut your book, pushing it aside and making space for Sirius next to you. When Sirius sat, he wasn’t expecting you to throw your arms around him, engulfing him in a tight hug. “Thank you.” You mumbled into the crook of his neck. “Hey, why should you be embarrassed for something he did? Also, I’ve got to say your comment was beautiful.” “What, about him seeing my dinner?” Sirius laughed as you let go of him, throwing an arm around you and tugging you in closer to him.

“So, it doesn’t change anything for you?” You whispered to him, afraid of his response. “Why would a little gossipy article change anything for me? Whatever this is, it doesn’t need a reporter to put labels on it. So, tell me what you’re working on.” “I- just a song.” Sirius heard the wobble in your voice, but decided not to ask about it, watching as you wiped at your eyes. “Um, a song I actually wanted you to sing.” Sirius made a sound of surprise in his throat. “Love, you know I don’t sing.” Your laugh surprised him. “Yes you do, you just don’t know it yet.”

Sirius watched as you jumped up from your place on the couch “This song is a little different to what I usually write and perform.” You told him, pulling out your wand and grabbing the sheets of music from the table. You muttered a spell, enchanting each instrument to play its own part before you finally grabbed your electric guitar and lyric sheet.

The second your fingers strummed the guitar, all the instruments came to life in a melody that Sirius instantly knew would change the world as you knew it. Then, you began singing the lyrics, your voice as light as an angel for a tune that didn’t match it.

“I wanted to be with you alone

And talk about the weather,”

And Sirius was instantly in love. Not that he hadn’t been before, no. Sirius had realised that meeting his heroes wasn’t always a bad thing since he sat down with you in the middle of a staircase. You’d looked at him with angel eyes, looking to him for comfort when speaking to his other friends. Sirius was lost in a trance as you observed him now as you sang, watching for each and every reaction. You cleared your throat nervously when you got to the chorus.

“Something happens and I'm head over heels

I never find out until I'm head over heels

Something happens and I'm head over heels

Ah, don't take my heart, don't break my heart

Don't, don't, don't throw it away”

Sirius’s mouth was agape. He pieced the song together, you figured. He stood up from his spot, walking over to you and putting his hands on your guitar. The second you stopped playing, the rest of the instruments died down too, putting an end to your never ending song. You let Sirius take your guitar from you, passing the thick strap over your head so he could put it to the side. “You want me to sing it?” Sirius whispered, his face mere inches away from yours. You nodded “Can only imagine it in your voice.”

“You know, it's fitting, because I really am head over heels for you.” You gasped at Sirius’s words, moving your gaze down to your feet but his hand was already at your chin, gently pushing your chin up so you could meet his eyes again. “I really wanted to kiss you in the great hall today.” You muttered, and Sirius grinned. “So did I. I love myself a woman who will stand up for herself.” “So you’ll sing the song?”

“How about you let me get that kiss first?” You felt your cheeks get hot as Sirius leaned down to press his lips against yours. Your hands immediately gripped his crinkled uniform shirt, pulling his chest flat against yours. He moved a hand to the back of your head, deepening the kiss as he slid his tongue in your mouth. You pressed yourself onto your tippy toes, but just as you wrapped your arms around Sirius’s shoulders, he broke the kiss, saying with a wide grin “How about you teach me this song, yeah?”

୭ ˚. ᵎᵎˎˊ˗

WIZARDS WEEKLY

Y/N L/N has begun her ‘Heart of Chaos: World Tour’, and fans were not surprised to see who she brought on stage.

Rumours of the singer-songwriter’s romance with Sirius Black started when she first moved to England to live with her aunt. The couple were spotted in Scotland’s very own Hogsmeade village, near the Hogwarts castle. Those rumours started around February 1978, and it is now September. The rockstar’s first show of the year-long tour was last night on June 10th, and fans went absolutely crazy. To open her second set l/n brought Sirius Black, her rumoured boyfriend, on stage with her, and they sang their newest collaborative song ‘Head over Heels’.

In a recent interview, l/n shared that her tour would be the start of something big, and it seems as though ‘Head over Heels’ is the beginning of that. The singer said that whilst she wrote and produced the entire song and its music, she felt as though the song would be perfect for someone else — that someone whom we now know is Sirius Black. However, when the pair of wizards sang ‘Head over Heels’ together, a strange phenomenon occurred. It seemed as though people in the audience became calmer, and there was more than one instance of people kissing during the audience. Whilst this isn’t exactly odd during concerts, our reporters noticed that this only occurred during the one song, and nowhere else in the show.

Experts are theorising that y/n l/n isn’t only one of the most talented artists of this new generation, but one of the most powerful witches too, embedding spells in songs, for instance, a love spell in 'Head over Heels'. This is often seen in music in North America, however l/n is introducing it to the rest of the world for the first time.

Sirius Black stayed with her on stage for the rest of the show, singing background vocals and playing the electric guitar to create the most magical duet people have witnessed in a long time. At the end of the show, they confirmed the old rumours started by an anonymous source, sharing a passionate kiss on stage in front of thousands upon thousands of fans. l/n revealed what the tour was starting — or rather ending, during the final moments of her first show of the ‘Heart of Chaos: World Tour’.

This tour would be her last as a solo artist.

At the end of the tour, she will be joining a group called ‘Marauders of Mischief’, in which her boyfriend Sirius Black will be the lead guitarist. l/n and Black revealed to us that the other three members of the band would be Remus Lupin, James Potter and Marlene McKinnon, all of whom l/n met whilst she studied at Hogwarts for less than a year. When asked in an interview about how this band was formed, l/n opened up about a lot of details.

Y/N L/N: Truly, I didn’t speak to Remus, James or Marls much when I was at Hogwarts. But towards the end of the year, I opened up more, and when they discovered that Sirius and I were writing music together, they showed an interest. We spent a day in the music room together, and we instantly knew that we were forming a band. And James’s lovely fiancé, one of my best friends, Lily Evans is our manager, and you know, it’s the six of us against the world. I don’t want to spoil too much, but since I’ve become an independent artist, they’ve been helping me — and Sirius — out with this tour. So they’re on tour with us right now as our sort of ‘backstage team’ which means that we get to spend every day together. And that means we’ve spent a lot of time writing and producing music. So, stay tuned for what we release.

Coming circa 1979.

taglist: @ravisinghs-wife, @amatoanima, @starry-remus, @pain-in-the-ashe, @hiireadstuff, @superlegend216, @treefairy-28, @superlegend216, @kitkatkl, @rory-cakes, @friedfreyfries, @azure-drag0ness

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suzukiblu · 22 hours ago

Text

welp I remain INCREDIBLY weak to positive reinforcement, haha, so day two of “Kon meets pink kryptonite and decides to fuck Tim and his boyfriend about it” behind the cut. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Tim takes the obvious opportunity that Bernard chattering and Kon being a little bit dumbstruck gives him–because like, of fucking course he does, he’s a Bat–and offers Kon the caramel-dipped waffle quarter again, and Kon, like . . . okay, well fucking obviously he’s gonna eat it, Bernard made the damn caramel from scratch and Tim is offering it to him. Like, there is not a world in which he does not eat that.

He takes a bite, mostly distracted by what Bernard’s going on about with whipped cream and hand mixers and whatever and idly having some related kinky thoughts because, like, in his defense, whipped cream, and then forgets completely about what Bernard’s going on about with . . . whatever Bernard’s going on about.

“Oh my god what did you put in this,” Kon blurts, half-covering his mouth with a hand before he accidentally spits out any waffle crumbs and staring at Bernard for a moment. Like, the waffle is warm and basically the perfect mix between outside crunch and inside fluff, but also it tastes like–what the fuck is in this, seriously, is there sex pollen in this or something?

“Oh, it’s actually basically my banana bread recipe, so . . . banana? Like a significant amount of banana, and then some sour cream, and a little cinnamon, brown sugar, and vanilla,” Bernard ticks off, gesturing with a waffle chunk of his own before spooning some whipped cream onto it, because Bernard apparently just made . . . everything on this breakfast tray from scratch, okay. Like . . . yeah. Okay then. “And also there’s some chocolate chips and chopped pecans in there, because like, literally what is not better with chocolate, seriously. Admittedly I don’t actually know how good it is with peaches, haven’t tried that one before, but I figure at least the caramel should be good.”

Kon stares blankly at the dude and resists the instinctive marriage proposal currently warring with his natural “kept boy” instincts, then takes another bite of waffle when Tim offers it. It keeps tasting, like, fucking delicious, and also now he can break down “fucking delicious” in a little bit more detail than, like . . . just “fucking delicious”, basically.

. . . will Ma kill him if he asks another cook for their waffle recipe? Is that a thing he might have to worry about?

. . . . . . could be worth it, honestly. And she might let him live if he shares.

“Do you, like, cook a lot, or . . . ?” he asks, half-trailing off when Tim feeds him more fucking deliciousness, which is in his defense pretty distracting. Like–Jesus, how did Bernard get an alleged banana bread recipe to make waffles this fluffy? Like, what fucking witchcraft was involved in that one?

“Constantly and all the time and nowhere near as much as I wanna, so honestly the excuse to make an extra sauce was kinda nice, not gonna lie, it’s very relaxing,” Bernard replies frankly, stacking up some banana slices on his waffle chunk and then making himself a little waffle sandwich to stuff into his mouth effectively whole. The little waffle sandwich is weirdly adorable. Like, to the degree Kon would probably find it adorable even if he weren’t high on pink kryptonite right now, but like, maybe that’s the banana bread waffles’ fault. “Well, actually caramel is low-key the devil because you cannot ever take your eyes off it ever without it burning to shit and ruining your godsdamn pot, but it’s not like I didn’t have time to baby it so it’s whatever. Why, do you cook?”

“Um . . . naw, just I help, um . . . well, there’s, like–I help bake, a little?” Kon replies hesitantly. Which, like, is mostly just him fetching shit and kneading stuff for Ma so her arthritis doesn’t act up as a dumb little excuse to, like, hang around the kitchen and living room area when she and Pa are talking, sometimes, but . . . technically it counts, he guesses? Like, technically?

Bernard perks up, like–instantly, and to a really surprising amount, which is a little weird, and Kon isn’t sure what that’s about.

“Oh, so the most evil culinary art then, wow,” Bernard says, sounding impressed. Which is definitely not what he is actually is, unless Kon has somehow given him a very incorrect impression of his baking skills, but still feels a little flustering to hear in relation to, like, something besides being good in bed. Like, just given the nature of this particular long weekend and all.

“Uh–what?” Kon asks, trying to figure out what Bernard’s actually talking about here, and Bernard starts making himself another little banana/whipped cream waffle sandwich with an easy little shrug.

“You know, like how the first rule of cooking is have fun and be yourself and the first rule of baking is stay calm because the dough can smell fear, is what I mean,” he replies reasonably.

“I mean it’s not that hard, honestly, I can kinda like, just feel when it’s baked enough without having to check, so . . .” Kon shrugs himself, feeling a little awkward about it. Like–it’s kinda cheaty, honestly. “Or like, proofed or whatever.”

“I hate you, come work at the restaurant I’m gonna open when I’m thirty-two, you can make all our bread in-house,” Bernard says very feelingly, and Kon forgets the awkward feeling to start snickering, because this dude is ridiculous, and still funny as fuck on top of that.

“I literally just help out, man,” he says. “I am at best the actual baker’s errand boy.”

“You just told me you can feel when the bread’s risen enough, you bastard, I am gonna press-gang you into this restaurant if I have to,” Bernard retorts huffily, then pauses, looks speculative, and asks: “Does that work on souffle, actually?”

“I mean, I guess it would?” Kon replies with a frown, tilting his head a little. “Never tried, but–”

“Hey Tim, I’m press-ganging your boy onto the line, good news, you won’t have to deal with me ranting about how much I hate my pastry chef every morning over coffee when we’re thirty-two,” Bernard informs Tim casually, and Tim’s mouth quirks in amusement and Kon just laughs helplessly again.

“Oh my god, Bernard, I am the last person you wanna get to make pastry, much less restaurant pastry,” he says, still laughing.

“I don’t know, your presentation skills would be pretty good, I’d think,” Tim says reasonably, which totally derails Kon’s cracking up. “You’re pretty artistic when you want to be. And definitely creative, and good with your hands on top of that.”

Kon feels briefly startled–like, startled enough to not even make a sex joke about the “good with your hands” comment–because he like . . . basically never does anything that’d really count as “artistic”, as far as he’s concerned, and he’s really only “creative” in terms of coming up with creative new ways to curbstomp bad guys or whatever, not . . .

He bites the rest of the waffle quarter out of Tim’s hand, mostly to give himself a second to process all the weird things he’s feeling about Tim saying something like that, and then has some more weird feelings when Tim swipes the pad of his thumb across the corner of his mouth to get up a smudge of caramel and then taps it lightly against Kon’s mouth to like . . . invite or offer, maybe, Kon’s not sure which.

Though like, obviously he licks it clean either way.

“Ohhhhh, hey, so how delicate does the TTK get?” Bernard asks, his eyes gleaming.

“Uh–I mean, borderline atomic-level, depending?” Kon replies, a little bewildered still. “But like, that’s kinda an adrenaline-fueled apocalyptic sitch kinda thing, so mostly just . . . I dunno, tweezers? Mini-screwdriver? Somewhere in there?”

“Okay, so when every single fine dining establishment in Gotham tries to poach you from me, I need you to remember how much you liked my dick when you were gay and pay that favor back by not accepting their disgusting amounts of money and prestige,” Bernard says, and Kon can’t help laughing again, or feeling, like–kind of warm, again. Like, kind of in the horny way, but also kinda . . . not, maybe.

Seriously, it’s so weird how much hanging out with Bernard feels like getting a crush on a girl he’s just met. Like–very, very much so. Increasingly so, at this point.

“I dunno, man, unless your fine dining establishment has a pink K chandelier . . .” he counters teasingly, and Bernard looks straight-up delighted by that idea.

“Ooo, I bet that lighting would be sick, very romantic ambiance for the customer base,” he says with a grin. “What do you think, I could do my supervillain career in Metropolis and then retire to Gotham with all my ill-gotten gains and invest in a chandelier or twelve. You totally wanna get fucked after-hours on my prep counter under flattering rosy lighting, right?”

“Come on, man, I look good in any lighting,” Kon scoffs, making a show of preening. “Or on any counter, as a matter of fact.”

“Valid,” Bernard agrees with a sage nod, and Kon feels an irrational level of heat in his face but grins at him again anyway. Like–whatever, it’s the kryptonite; doesn’t mean he can’t enjoy the ride.

“Yeah, I’m sure the health department would love that, you two,” Tim says wryly, the corner of his mouth ticking up in amusement.

“Oh my god, Tim, like we wouldn’t clean up after,” Bernard huffs, making a show of rolling his eyes. “Like I don’t know basic food safety standards. But fiiiiine, I’ll put in a special counter just for fucking your boy on when I’m doing the initial remodel, would that make you feel better?”

“You designing your future professional kitchen with a specific place reserved to have sex with my best friend in it?” Tim asks, tilting his head slightly with a briefly speculative expression.

“Yes, obviously,” Bernard says.

“If you made sure the security cameras’d have a good view, I guess,” Tim allows.

“Why would I need to, look at him, the cameras will be magnetically attracted to him,” Bernard scoffs, and Kon feels sort of–flustered, maybe, and flushed, and kinda–flattered, almost? Just . . . something about that particular sex fantasy is . . .

Like, it’s just–it's still just a jokey fantasy, yeah, but it's one that sounds like, like . . . like an actual plan would, almost. Like, obviously still just a joke, but . . . he doesn’t know, just a more flattering joke, somehow. Kinda. Also, if he’s really thinking about it . . . well, obviously there’s sex in it, but it’s really less a sex fantasy than it is just, like . . .

Well. Just . . . a fantasy, he guesses. Like . . . like they’ll all just still know each other in their thirties and know each other well enough to wanna hang out that much and . . .

Just–yeah. So it’s a little more flattering, kinda. Like, as a fantasy and all.

It is also making it real fuckin’ hard to concentrate on breakfast, under the circumstances.

Tim offers him another slice of peach, and Kon bites his lip and glances up at his face again.

“Rob, man, yours is gonna get cold,” he points out.

“Really not worried about it,” Tim says, which is sort of hard to argue with, but like . . .

“But–” Kon starts reflexively, and Tim taps the peach slice against his lower lip.

“Eat your breakfast like a good boy, and I'll give you something good while I eat mine,” he says, and Kon’s brain fritzes out completely and his gut goes absolutely molten. “Open up.”

Kon doesn’t even take a moment to actually say anything or even nod, just immediately opens his mouth.

Tim smiles down at him soft enough to really fry his brain and sets the peach slice on his tongue. There’s some caramel sauce on it, and Kon flashes back to Tim doing the same thing to him with the candy with his own damn come on it and kind of, like, spontaneously combusts or explodes into a supernova or just melts down into caramel himself.

Tim taps his mouth shut with two fingers under his jaw, and Kon just about fucking swoons over it.

So–yeah, he is definitely not gonna be arguing about the temperature of anybody’s breakfast right now.

#timberkon #konbern #timkon #timbern #kon el #conner kent #bernard dowd #tim drake #superboy #dc robin #wip: think pink #dom/sub

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0neir0z · 2 days ago

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severance 2x07 thoughts, hella spoilers as usual

okay i normally do funny haha no context thoughts but i didn't have them this episode really. just a lot of thoughts about gemma. i love gemma. (also like yeah mark is hot but ive been on that train it's wtv.)

i get sort of analytical w it but im not really an analyst. i am simply yapping.

a) the association with gemma and spring is my favorite thing ever and the imagery is so so beautiful.

b) what the Fuck are they doing with her down there oh my god. let her ouuuuuttttttt.

c) with the way that severance has dissected and implemented race as a construct in this world what they're doing with her down there is soooo sooo terrifying. like genuinely the letter writing scene is something that rattled me deep in my core in ways that i think the milchick kier portrait thing has done for others. the concept that lumon is taking this asian woman, a character established to have had a lot of her own agency, but struggles with her bodily autonomy (attempts and failures with pregnancy) going through lumon for treatment, and severing her. not only severing her but teaching her innies that she is subservient to the extreme traumas that they're putting her through in those rooms. dressing her up in outfits like a doll. one of those traumas being this submissive traditional wife to a domineering white husband figure, forcing her to say that she loves him, Knowing her outie has a husband but insisting she belongs to the men at lumon. that they are entitled to her and the love (servitude) of her innie is so unsettling. ms casey is a caretaker, forced to take the traumas of others while ignoring her own. to be saved by her white superiors, to be owned by them. it's so scary.

this contrasts her relationship with mark where there is very little of this known racial dynamic in their relationship. he falls in love with gemma because she's gemma and doesn't really base it on what she could be doing for him, or what he thinks she Should be doing for him.

ntm severance is science fiction and dystopic, this depiction of east asian women is a known trope. it is techno-orientalism at its core and the show is Aware of this. it uses the way that asian women/femmes are treated in media as a device. ms casey is supposed to be treated like that not because the show wants you to think that that is how it portrays asian women in this world but how it comments on the way that lumon (corporations as a whole) still treat and percieve asian women in the workplace. and how the white men at the top of the company will never deconstruct this mindset in themselves because they're benefitting, they'd never need to.

d) dichen lachman has the facecard of all fucking time my god

#severance #severance shitposting #severance speculation #severance spoilers #severance s2 #ms casey #gemma casey #gemma scout #mark s #mark scout #markgemma

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lostinlovingrevery · 3 days ago

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Logan idea: him being married and starting a family with his wife 😍

OMG UGH The way I'm so in love with that man

I actually have two fics related to this in my drafts! One is reading finding out she's pregnant, the other is just a peak into family life with reader and logan. it's gonna be teeth rotting fluff. I hope you'll enjoy them <3

implications of sex below the cut, also pregnancy mentions!

Marriage with Logan:

I mean not to be cheesy but...

it's bliss

you all saw him in origins with kayla (gag)

that man is a total lover boy

hes on his knees for you

he will do anything for you

He didn't think he'd get to do something like this. to experience the whole joy of getting engaged, planning a wedding, getting married

just finding his other half....He considers himself the luckiest man in the world

He takes on the role of a hubby proudly

He'll laugh and pretend the wifey and hubby mugs you got him were cliche but he uses the hubby mug every single day proudly and ignores any comments regarding it

He'll proudly introduce you as his wife (or hubby, or partner, whichever term you prefer!)

everyone sees how so in love you both are

holding hands, your arms around each other

he'll admire the ring he put on your finger all the time.

"this is a nice look for you baby"

if you going through with having a wedding wedding, logan is going to be so damn nervous

he fights all sorts of bad guys. standing in front of family and friends, being vulnerable? thats a different kind of fight

but he finds when he sees you, all prettied up walking down that aisle

well, maybe this isn't so bad

but if you end up having a something small and simple, hes just as happy

either way, he's grinning ear to ear by your side. no ones seen the wolverine happier than when he married you

theres a comfort that settles between you both after marriage. a trust that the other is going to be there. you don't have to worry about a thing with him.

If you're getting or already have your own place, your engagement/marriage kicks off nesting in him. Hes' gotta make sure that his baby is taken care of...

Speaking of babies...

Starting a family!

Oh boy

or girl?

However the conception happens, planned or accident

logan will be thrilled (after he gets over the nerves)

he'll be so supportive to you. he may take a moment and go vomit out in the bins outside but he's happy, truly

hes so supportive

i mean i talked about pregnancy headcanons before but imma go into it again

he hates seeing his love in pain, suffering, etc etc. will hold your hand the entire way.

Hold your hair back during those morning sickness events uggh

will make you tea, slice apples, whatever the hell helps you

will rub your back, feet, shoulders. whatever

he thinks your mood swings are adorable (he won't say that to your face though. he knows you'll just tear him apart)

very handsy. can't help it. you looked good pregnant w his kid

every doctor appointment. hes there.

hes strong for you, god knows you're doing the heavy lifting but he's definitely going to be anxious. worried about every little groan and huff you let out. worried about labor. your safety. the babys safety.

hes so happy to be here but he's also terrified of losing it

yes, if you wake him up at 2 in the morning, he'll go get you those weird things you're craving. he'll do it happily. no you're not bothering him.

loves when you get a burst of hormones and become feral over him. he literally wants to bang you all the time but you're pregnant and not in the mood usually

you give him small kisses at first that end up getting intense and becoming more bc you're both just so happy and your hormones is making everything so intense and he's the only thing you want and need

anyhoo...

When you're big, big, like 8-9 months. He's all over you. You could bite his head off over his clingyness but the most he's gonna do is sit across the room with his tail between his legs

his instinct screams to stay close and to protect. he's not going anywhere

designing the babies room together

SHOPPING

bad bad wolverine is holding up lil jammies with sheep on it. "This is cute" he mumbles.

you can't even bring yourself to tease him over it because he's so damn cute like this. also hes' right. those are cute jammies. put em in the cart

Logan really doesn't care about the babys sex. he's just happy to even.. have all of this. and with you.

he'd be a great boy or girl dad honestly.

they're both gonna have him wrapped around their finger

you buy a plush wolverine animal for the babys crib and logan gets emotional over it

"yknow sweetheart these things are pretty mean in real life." he says as he holds back tears. "don't know if we should..."

he's gonna go into slight shock when they baby comes. like. woah, this is happening? really? actually happening?

Of course when you start reacting to your contractions, hubby mode is going to kick in. He's all over you, talking you through everything as you go the hospital

hes scared, terrified, but hes not gonna worry about himself when you need him more than ever

WILL cry when he meets yalls baby for the first time.

Going to feel like he'd been waiting his whole life to meet them.

He's going to be an amazing dad. hes got all sorts of life experience to share with them

your kid(s) will adore their dad (and you!)

they may have their teenage phase where everyone annoys them

but Logan having memories of how his family/parents were broken apart. he doesn't want that to happen

no ones a perfect person/partner/parent. logan tries pretty damn hard

movie nights

waking up to the kids running into yalls bed

him literally trying to steal ONE private moment with you, but your child is in a "i only want this parent phase!" for one of you and won't leave you alone.

your kid(s) gagging whenever you kiss or get affectionate. it happens often.

"mom and dad are really gross"

Im gonna add adoption in here too

he's gonna be really nervous because he doesn't want to scare whoever you adopt with his mutation, and just his general self. hes big and scary.

but you meet the child you two are meant to raise and he's in love

he adores the kid just as if it was his biological because to him it doesn't matter

thats you and hims child and he's going to do his damn best to take care of you and any child you may raise together

I just love him and I want me and him to build a lil life together on a farm or a cabin and have little ones that look like him running around and just *sobs*

#logan howlett #wolverine #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #vans daydreams #van rambles #sidkneeeee #pregnancy

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stradakiev · 1 day ago

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Ok I’ll talk about it

I love this idea and agree with it soooooooo much and it’s my favorite Martha take ever

From Martha’s first story Smith and Jones she is figuring things out as if the doctor would without first seeing the doctor do it. She talks about how the windows aren’t exactly air tight and that there must be something keeping the air in. She figures out the genetic transfer, gets the Jadoon to catch the plasmavore, and brings the doctor back so he can fix the scanner. If you want to dig deeper with this episode the doctor is not introduced as his character he is John smith and Martha is studying to be a doctor. Foreshadowing she will play his role at the end of the season.

We don’t see much of this in the second episode because it her out of here element for real this time and she’s taking it in but still a very active character in the story.

Gridlock we get to see Martha separated from the doctor and kidnapped onto the highway. Martha is the one descending to the lower lanes and learning the stories of the sounds at the bottoms and putting the pieces together. It’s her quick thinking to turn the engines off to save them until the city was open by the doctor and they could drive up.

Daleks take manhattan and evolution of the daleks is when we see Martha start to boss the doctor around. Unlike other companions we’ve seem Martha spends a lot of her initial time traveling with the doctor actually away from him. When the doctor wants to just go off and see why the daleks changed their minds she asks if he’s just going to leave Hooverville to die. She is the one thinking of how to keep people alive like a doctor like the doctor. I like to think that the doctor hiding from the daleks behind Martha is symbolic of the doctor hiding from his grief and in many ways responsibilities and becoming more reckless while Martha holds things together.

The Lazarus experiment- the only part of this episode I want to focus on is the ending. The doctor suggests “one more trip” and she tells him she’s not going to keep doing it like that and that it’s either a full time passenger or good bye and the doctor agrees to it. Her being the one to have the power to chose to travel with him and be a full time companion makes her fulfill the role of the doctor as she decides who will be traveling in the tardis and he agrees like a companion typically does to an invitation.

42 her and the doctor are again apart for most of the episode and once the doctor has saved Martha he is possessed for the rest of the time while Martha cools his temperature and ejects the fuel from the sun saving both the day and the doctors life. So again companion doctor reversal once the doctor has saved her from imminent death.

Human nature and the family of blood- do I need to go into it? The doctor literally turns into a human and leaves everything up to Martha so she is the doctor for the episode and is the only one using the tardis (we’ve never seen her touch the console this much).

Blink- my man isn’t processing his grief with rose and now is separated from his ship. I can only imagine how much he was struggling. Martha was keeping them afloat with her job in the shop.

Utopia and the sound of drums!!! You can see Martha this whole episode just process more and more how poorly she’s been treated by the doctor by the way he interacts with jack and the stories of rose. She moves the story around narratively with the watch which. From here to where he family is kidnapped in the next episode (and we get the iconic scene of her yelling at the doctor) she is transforming herself through her actions until when she finally uses the vortex manipulator (the first type of time travel she has used by herself) she becomes the doctor.

Last of the time lords Martha is fully acting in the doctor role walking the whole worlds by herself without a weapon spreading a message of home. Her message is the doctor but in that moment she is the doctor. She embodies everything he is while he is removed from having control in the story.

I think the sound of drums/last of the time lords is Martha’s version of dark water/death in heaven. Martha is a lot more emotionally healthy than Clara and also has a live she has dreams for on earth so she chooses to leave. Martha has to cope with the consequences of becoming the doctor so she becomes a unit soldier I think to cope with how she has changed fundamentally but it also nicely brings those two lives together for our successful Queen. Whereas Clara becomes the doctor and no longer has anything or any dreams connecting her to earth to she toxically spirals out until she dies and then becomes not human so we love our toxic queen too

So basically I like to call season 3 the season the doctor was numbing his grief with reckless decisions, straight up not existing, and he’s classic running from it with adventures bc they have a savior complex. He got away with falling apart this much for a whole season bc Martha is a queen and held shit together.

Clara becomes the Doctor but can we talk about how Martha is also the Doctor. Besides being an actual doctor, she also becomes a soldier and tries to justify it to herself. She went through hell and saved the earth and bore that weight alone, and was never thanked for it. In the Doctors Daughter she is forced to watch as her Hath "companion" sacrifices themself for her and dies horribly, and she has to leave them behind. Is this thing on

#Martha jones deserves your respect #Clara became the doctor because she wanted to #Martha becomes the doctor because the doctor is being an absent father #if you think about it the master made Martha into the doctor and Missy made Clara into the doctors #doctor who #martha jones #clara oswald #freema agyeman #10th doctor #12th doctor #I love narrative parallels

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linoxpudding · 3 hours ago

Text

Love That Remained- Bang Chan

summary: while your husband is on tour, something life shattering happens which leaves you both feeling shattered

pairing: bang chan x fem!reader

genre: angst, hurt/comfort, married with kids

word count: 2116 words

warnings: miscarriage, hospital setting, accident

a/n: based on this request

Masterlist

The Kids: Eldest Daughter (Julian - 7 years old) and Youngest Daughter (Aera - 4 years old)

~°~

You were exhausted. No, exhaustion wasn’t a strong enough word—you were completely drained, body and soul.

Between caring for Julian, your seven-year-old, and Aera, your four-year-old, while being heavily pregnant, you could barely function. The constant need to be everything—mother, caretaker, wife—while Chan was away on tour was wearing you thin.

You missed him desperately. The weight of his absence was suffocating, even though you knew he was doing what he loved. Every night, the ache of missing him settled in your chest, only dulled slightly when you saw his face on FaceTime.

His mother noticed your fatigue immediately. She always did. You were visiting your in-laws' place for dinner when she brought it up.

“Sweetheart,” she said gently after dinner, “why don’t I take the kids for the night? You look like you need some rest.”

You hesitated, glancing at your daughters. Julian was animatedly telling her grandfather a story, and Aera was already curling up against her auntie Hannah’s side, half-asleep.

A night alone. A full night of sleep. The thought was almost too tempting.

“…Are you sure?” you asked, voice filled with guilt.

His mother smiled warmly, touching your hand. “You need to take care of yourself too, honey. The baby needs you strong.”

Your resolve crumbled. You kissed your daughters goodnight, whispering reassurances that you’d be back in the morning. Then you set off for home. It was only a short drive. You didn’t even think about it—just another routine part of life.

Then, everything shattered.

Headlights. A sharp turn. Tires screeching. A deafening impact.

Pain exploded in your body. A scream made it past your lips before darkness swallowed you whole.

*********

On the other side of the world your husband, Chan, was grinning as he wiped sweat from his forehead, heart still racing from the concert. The stadium had been packed, the energy electric. Fans screamed his name, sang every word of every song, and for two and a half hours, he had been on top of the world.

But now, all he wanted was to see his girls.

His adrenaline hadn’t settled, but there was only one thing on his mind—his nightly FaceTime with you and the kids. This was his favorite part of the night—seeing his daughters’ sleepy faces, hearing you whisper, I miss you before falling asleep with your phone still connected.

Pulling out his phone, he checked the time. Time zones were tricky. He knew you would fall asleep by the time he got back at his hotel, so immediately after the concert, he waited for your call.

But the call didn’t come. He frowned, glancing at the time. Maybe you were tired. Maybe you had put the girls to bed early.

Still, something gnawed at his chest.

He was about to text you when the dressing room door opened and Changbin and Felix entered.

Chan barely looked up. “One sec, just waiting for Y/N and the girls.”

Neither of them said anything.

The silence made Chan glance up.

Changbin looked pale. Felix’s lips were pressed together tightly, like he was holding back something.

Chan’s stomach dropped.

“What?”

Neither of them spoke. The room felt colder.

“Guys?” His voice wavered slightly. “What is it?”

Felix swallowed. Changbin shifted uncomfortably.

Chan laughed, though it was shaky. “What’s going on?”

Changbin and Felix looked at each other nervously. Changbin took a step closer, “Chan, sit down.”

Chan became worried, “Is something wrong with my parents? My siblings?” He didn’t even take your name or his daughters' names because his mind refuses to go there, there cannot be anything wrong with you or the kids, nope. He scoffed lightly. “Come on, why do you guys look like that?”

Nobody laughed. His heart dropped.

Changbin took a deep breath. “Chan, it’s Y/N.”

The world tilted. Chan sat frozen, breath caught in his throat.

“There was an accident.”

His stomach churned, nausea rising to his throat. “No.” His voice cracked.

Felix reached for him, but Chan jerked back.

“No.” Chan shook his head violently. “No, she—she was just with the kids. She was on her way home—”

Felix squeezed his shoulder. “Hyung—”

No, that wasn’t right. You had just texted him hours ago. You had dinner at his parents’ house. You were fine.

“Where are the kids?” Chan demanded, voice rising. “Were they—were they with her?”

“No. They’re with your parents.”

Chan exhaled sharply, his body sagging for a moment.

Then, his expression turned ice-cold, “Where is she now?”

A suffocating silence.

“Changbin.” His voice trembled.

Changbin looked down. “She’s in surgery.”

Chan’s hands curled into fists and his breathing was ragged now, his chest rising and falling unevenly, “Book me a flight. Now.”

Chan barely heard anything else. He was already moving.

*********

The flight felt endless. Chan sat in his seat, fists clenched, his foot bouncing violently against the floor. His mind refused to shut off.

You. The baby.

His brain kept repeating the same words, the same images. You, lying in a hospital bed. You, unconscious. You, hurt. He should’ve been there. He should’ve been driving you home. He should’ve told you to wait until morning. He was supposed to protect you. He wasn’t supposed to be thousands of miles away while you were fighting for your life.

Tears burned at his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. Not here. Not yet.

He was praying silently. Please. Let them be okay. Please, God.

*********

The hospital was eerily quiet at this hour. Chan ran through the corridors, barely stopping to listen to the nurses directing him. His parents were standing near your room, eyes red and swollen.

His mother turned first. When she saw him, her face crumbled, and she reached for him, “Chris—”

“Where is she?” His voice barely worked, throat dry from the flight, from the panic that had been clawing at him for hours.

His father placed a steady hand on his shoulder. “She’s inside.” His voice cracked.

Chan didn’t wait. He pushed the door open. Then he saw you and the sight nearly broke him.

You were lying on the hospital bed, wires and tubes surrounding you, your face unnaturally pale against the stark white sheets. The rhythmic beep of the monitors was the only indication that you were still there.

His stomach twisted violently.

“Baby?” His voice cracked as he took a shaky step forward.

You didn’t move. The hospital room felt suffocating.

“No,” he whispered, rushing to your bedside. “No, baby, please don’t do this.”

His hands shook as he reached for yours, wrapping his fingers around your smaller, colder ones.

“Wake up,” he pleaded, his breath hitching. “Please, baby. Please. You’re my world, you hear me? I don’t know how to be me without you.”

His vision blurred, hot tears slipping down his cheeks.

“It’s us against the world, right?” His voice cracked as he cupped your face with one hand while his other was intertwined with yours. “Julian and Aera need you… I need you.”

Silence. His shoulders trembled as he pressed his forehead against your hand, his body shaking with the force of his grief.

“Please. Please, wake up. Please, come back to me,” he sobbed.

Minutes turned into hours then he heard a soft sound. A quiet inhale.

“…Chan?”

His head snapped up so fast his neck ached. His breath caught in his throat as he watched your eyes flutter open, unfocused and heavy with exhaustion.

“Sweetheart?” His voice was hoarse, broken.

You blinked slowly, dazed, confused. Your lips parted, dry and cracked.

“The baby?” you whispered.

The world stopped. Chan felt his chest tighten painfully, his heart screaming at him, warning him. He already heard the bad news that shattered his world, hours ago from your doctor. The words slammed into Chan’s chest like a freight train.

Before he could answer, the door opened.

Your doctor entered, clipboard in hand.

Chan’s stomach plummeted.

The doctor’s expression was calm, but his eyes held sympathy. “Mrs. Bang, how are you feeling?”

You swallowed, glancing down at your hand still held tightly in Chan’s. “Weak,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “But… my baby?”

The doctor sighed softly, stepping closer.

Chan’s grip on your hand tightened.

“I’m so sorry,” the doctor said gently. “Due to the severity of the accident, you suffered a placental abruption. The trauma was too much for the baby to survive.”

Your breath hitched. Your lips parted, but no sound came out.

The doctor continued, his voice soft. “We did everything we could.”

Chan felt your entire body begin to tremble.

“No,” you whispered, your free hand pressing against your stomach as if you could somehow feel what had been lost.

“I’m so sorry,” the doctor repeated, his voice laced with sorrow.

Your breath hitched. A choked, heartbroken sob ripped from your throat, and Chan broke. Tears blurred his vision as he pulled you into his arms, holding you as tightly as he could. You sobbed against his chest, your fingers clutching at his shirt, your body wracked with grief.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out between sobs. “I’m so sorry—”

Chan cupped the back of your head, pressing his lips against your temple. His own tears fell freely, his body shaking as he held onto you.

“Don’t,” he whispered, his voice shattered. “Don’t do that. This isn’t your fault.”

You let out another sob, curling into him. “I should’ve been more careful—”

“No,” he said firmly, pulling back just enough to look into your tear-streaked face. His hands framed your cheeks, thumbs brushing away the tears that kept falling. “No, baby. This wasn’t your fault. Don’t carry this.”

Your lip trembled. “Chan—”

He shook his head, his own voice breaking. “We lost our baby. Together. You didn’t fail. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

You pressed your forehead against his, sobs still wracking your body. His hands shook as he held you tighter, as if he could somehow shield you from this pain.

“I should’ve been there,” he whispered.

You pulled back, eyes red, swollen.

“Chan—” your voice cracked. “It wasn’t your fault.”

He let out a choked sound. “It wasn’t yours either.”

You broke again, burying your face in his chest. He held you as you sobbed, as your grief tore through you both.

“We were supposed to meet them,” you whispered, voice raw. “We were supposed to hold them.”

Chan let out a choked sound, his hands tightening around you,“I know,” he whispered. “I know, baby.”

Your arms wrapped around his neck, clinging to him like he was the only thing keeping you grounded. He pressed desperate kisses against your forehead, your hair, anywhere he could reach.

“I love you,” he whispered. “We’ll get through this.”

Your breath was shaky. “How?”

He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. “I don’t know yet, but we would.”

Because he would never let go. Because you needed each other. Because even though the weight of grief was suffocating, crushing, unbearable—

You had to be brave. For Julian. For Aera. For the family that still needed you. Chan held you even tighter, pressing his lips to your forehead, his tears mixing with yours.

“We have to be strong,” he whispered. “For them.”

Your breath hitched, your body trembling against him.

“They don’t know yet,” you whispered, voice raw.

Chan closed his eyes. The thought of his children, so innocent, so full of love and joy—waiting for you both. Not knowing the storm that had just shattered your world. His heart ached.

“We’ll tell them together,” he murmured. “When you’re ready.”

You let out a small, broken sob, gripping his shirt like a lifeline. “I don’t know how to do this, Chan.”

His hands ran up and down your back, soothing, steady, even when he felt anything but steady.

“We’ll figure it out,” he promised. “One day at a time.”

You nodded against his chest, but he could still feel the way your body trembled, the way grief clung to every breath. He exhaled shakily, pressing another kiss to your forehead. “You’re not alone in this, baby. You’ll never be alone.”

Your arms tightened around him, your fingers digging into his back. “I love you,” you whispered, voice so fragile it nearly broke him all over again.

“I love you more,” he choked out.

For a while, you just held each other.

The hospital room was quiet except for the sound of your breathing, the occasional sniffle, the weight of everything you had lost.

But outside, beyond these walls—two little children were waiting.

And no matter how shattered you both felt, no matter how much the loss threatened to pull you under, you had to keep going. For them. For your family. For the love that still remained.

-------------

Taglist:

@kaiyaba

#skz x reader #skz au #stray kids #bangchan imagines #bang chan x reader #bang chan angst #bangchan angst #dad!bangchan #dad!skz #bang chan #bang chan au #stray kids imagines

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inawickedlittletown · 1 day ago

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Decided to rewatch S8 and I made it to 8x06.

Ugh. This episode.

This is the first time I'm rewatching it since it aired and I couldn't make myself rewatch it before, but I'm watching it now and gah the writing.

Under a cut because this got long...

I'm not even too bothered by the anniversary dinner. The woman approaching them is whatever in the long run...Buck is awkward but it's very Buck to be like that so that doesn't bother me. Tommy's reaction to it also not a problem. Buck acting like he doesn't know his boyfriend is gay? Writers WTF. This is the type of conversation that would be normal a few dates in not 6 months in. It's actually very reminiscent of stuff from their first date.

It's the way they didn't know how to bring up Abby and so gave us this convoluted way to bring it about and it's very clear to me on a rewatch that they're trying to make sure the casual heterosexual audience understands things. Like they want to reestablish that we know for sure that Tommy is gay and Buck is still attracted to women but also lets not use the word bisexual. And oh the shock value of it because take out the Abby of it all and the break up still works the same way...they did the Abby thing just for the hell of it.

It's bad writing.

The next thing that makes me cringe is Buck's scene with Maddie and Josh. In the past we've seen Maddie listen to Buck and maybe poke fun at him a little but always in a kind way and then she gives him advice.

Maddie in this scene is acting so strange (actually Maddie this whole episode is not acting quite herself). I know some people have an issue with Josh's speech about Glee but tbh I don't think it's that bad and I didn't the first time I watched it. I think he has good motives in saying it. My issue is with Maddie.

Her joke about Abby turning men gay, the way she explains to Josh that Buck slept with Tommy's fiance changing the facts entirely just to mess with Buck, the way that she just very clearly thinks Buck is being dramatic and ridiculous. She just doesn't take Buck seriously at all and when Buck calls her out on it she turns it around on him because as she says she doesn't think there's a problem. But it's not about if there is a problem with them having both dated Abby, it's how Buck feels about it that he needs advice on.

Josh for all that I do think he is helpful, he also does not know Tommy and shouldn't speak to what Tommy experienced. Buck voices his concerns that he thought he knew who Tommy was but now he's finding out that Tommy lied and hurt Abby and it's thrown him because he's having to meld those two versions of Tommy.

Buck doesn't think that Tommy will do the same to him and Tommy doesn't. He doesn't lie to Buck or string him along. He's actually very honest with him and that honesty contributes to the break up. Yet another way in which we see that Tommy has changed from who he used to be.

The thing is that Josh doesn't know Tommy and admits as much but he gives Buck some broad thing about glee and what the world was like before it and after but he's basing it on his own experiences and the queer experience is not a shared trauma...and he puts in Buck's mind that he can't judge Tommy and also that he should thank him. Buck clearly internalizes this. He also I think it suddenly forced to think about what he wants from a future with Tommy and he jumps at wanting to live with him.

Now onto the actual break up.

The whole scene is actually good. They're cute together and silly and flirty and even after the Abby thing is revealed to Tommy nothing has fallen apart. It's all kinda good and their conversation is actually great. When Buck says he admires him, Tommy seems to like that...or at least he takes it how Buck intends it.

This is where it falls apart. And considering I refused to watch this again until now I didn't really think about it like this until now.

Yes I think Tommy had his eyes opened a little bit with everything Buck said...but Tommy also could have ended the conversation at the point where Buck tells him he admires him and they could have gone to the movies and just continued their date night. Why? Because Tommy already sorta knows this and it's what's he's expected from it...he already knows this is Buck's first relationship with a man and that as such Buck must feel some gratitude for what Tommy has given him and he's clearly in his mind already decided that it will end eventually because as he tells Buck first is not last (Tommy, who hurt you?).

But then Buck asks Tommy to move in. And Tommy can't.

It's one thing for him to date the baby bi guy...for him to get feelings for him that maybe go deep but that are manageable. He can handle that...but moving in together? For Buck to dangle that to him and offer him a future when Tommy doesn't expect that Buck will be able to deliver it? That's where Tommy just can't because he knows it will hurt when they break up...but if they live together and form deeper attachments and routines and they become intrinsically a part of each other's lives in a home they share then that's not heartbreak he's prepared to face. It's heartbreak he knows he won't survive.

I actually don't see the break up as bad writing. Everything else surrounding it absolutely is, but that scene is heartbreaking because they both want the same exact thing but Buck couldn't reassure Tommy that he really did want for them to be together...he didn't even tell him he loved him...and Tommy needs more from Buck to be secure in thinking that in this instance first could also be the last.

I think we learn so much about Tommy in this episode and I wish we had been able to dive in deeper.

This episode still hurts. Tommy's face when he says "Buck" hurts. The way Buck is left behind hurts.

The writing is a mixed bag of bad with some alright moments. It also leaves so much open. I remember that night being optimistic because it is so clearly a storyline left open to be continued. Some interviews turned that optimism right around but without that there is no real reason for any of us to think that this is finished.

Do I think it was a bad idea to break them up? Absolutely. Do I think there are other forms of tension for them to explore? Yes. Do I think they will manage to give this story and Buck and Tommy a happier ending? I have no idea, but I hope so.

Buck himself calls his relationship with Tommy the most transformative since Abby. He misses Tommy so much he spends the next couple of episodes baking and wanting to reach out. We also know that Tommy wants to reach back out too. These are indications that it isn't over and I just hope that they stick to being a little cliche and following the romcom trope right through to the end where they get back together.

I guess that's where I am going into 8b. Hopeful, but not holding my breath and well aware that fanfic exists and so much of the scenarios we want for our blorbos will only ever be possible there. Oh, and I'll be shipping Buck with Tommy because that is definitely not changing no matter what the show does.

#bucktommy #911 abc #911 meta #meta #tevan #kinley #evan buckley #tommy kinard

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whosyourmommy69 · 3 days ago

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Short Story of Falling in love with Rafe Cameron

The first time I saw him, I thought he was trouble. That was the thing everyone said that about him. He had this reckless, almost dangerous aura that surrounded him. Blonde hair , piercing eyes that never seemed to miss a thing, and a smile that could be either a warning or a promise. I should’ve known better.

But I didn’t.

It started at a party one of those endless nights where people float from room to room, doing god knows what barely remembering the faces they meet. I hadn’t expected to be noticed. Then he appeared, leaning against the table bent down, one arm casually slung over it. he leans up and his eyes caught mine for a moment. It was brief, but it felt like an eternity. He didn’t look away.

“Who’s this?” he asked sitting up wiping his nose , his voice almost playful, but there was something under it, something darker.

I smiled awkwardly, trying to stay composed. "Im trying to find my friend in this mess.

He laughed “You need some help?" Cmon just say no, just say no. "uh yea sure, She has blonde hair"

He smirked at me, "Gonna have to be more specific than that baby, You see how many girls here have blonde hair. What's she wearing"

"uh yea right um she has a blue dress on." I replied.

What started off as an innocent searched ended in us on his boat, drinking something from a bottle that looked like it costed more than my rent. One thing lead to another and before I know it I wake up in a bed. I was cold, naked, alone, and PISSED.

Since that night he started showing up everywhere. I’d catch him in the hallways at school or a tagged post on my instagram. At first it was annoying. This guy I have never met all of a sudden is every where in my life. So I did what any girl would do and I stalked him. I stalk his friends, his friends of friends, his siblings, even his parents. I followed behind him to his classes. You know I even went as far as talking the road that passes his house thinking maybe just maybe I would catch a glimpse of him.

This went on for weeks until one day he was there. I couldn't believe it. The guy who flipped my whole world upside down in just one night, sitting in his truck. I felt like the world stopped moving for a second when he looked up at me getting out the truck.

"hey stalker" he yelled from across the driveway, walking towards me.

"Not a stalker just passing through" I say calmly putting my head down.

"Mhm Im sure stalker. Where you coming from and where's your car?" he says almost like its a crime that Im walking.

"I uh don't have one, and Im coming back from work."

"let me give you a ride" he says smirking

I hesitated for a second before nodding, walking up to the truck and sliding into the passenger seat. The air between us was thick with unspoken tension, I tried to hide it the way my hands would hold onto my pants. With every second spent in his presence I tried to act normal, like this was just another casual ride. But inside, I was a nervous wreck. I mean I had given up hope of even talking to him again, let alone in his car with him alone. And yet here I was, in his car, close enough to smell the faint scent of his cologne. I looked at his hands thinking about the last time they were on me.

Rafe's attention was still on the road. He looked over with a look of something that felt like a challenge. My heart raced, the realization of what was happening settling in.

The drive felt like it took forever, but when he finally reached my street, Rafe didn’t immediately slow down. Instead, he pulled up just past my house and parked at the curb. I turned to look at him, my breath caught in my chest.

“Thanks for the ride,” I said, my voice a little more breathless than I intended.

Rafe didn’t say anything at first. His gaze lingered on me dark and intent. It made my skin prickle. The air between us thickened, like something was about to shift.

“You know,” Rafe said, his voice low, almost teasing. “I've been thinking about that night, and I know you have been to."

I blinked, unsure if I heard him right. “What?”

“Don’t act dumb, I've never seen you on my street before that night” he smirked, leaning closer, his face inches from mine now. “ and I also see the way you watch me. The way you follow me around when you think I’m not looking.” His words sent a shivers down my spine. He knew. He had known all along.

My cheeks flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and excitement. I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could, Rafe was already kissing me soft at first like he was testing to see how I would act. I melted into it, my body reacting instinctively.

The kiss deepened, and I felt a warmth spread through my chest. The low hum of the engine, the rhythm of his breath against mine, it just felt so right. I had dreamed of this moment ever since that night on the boat, but now that it was happening, everything was different.

When we finally pulled away, my head was spinning. Rafe just laughed softly, his lips curling into a satisfied grin.

“You’ve been watching me for a while, haven’t you?” he whispered, his voice rough.

I nodded “I didn’t think you’d notice.”

“I know everything” Rafe murmured, his hand brushing against mine before he slowly withdrew. “I can't always make the first move stalker”

And with that, he started the engine again, pulling away from the curb. I watched him disappear down the street, my body still warm from the moment we shared. As I turned to head inside, I couldn’t help but smile.

Little did I know this was either the beginning of the greatest love Ive ever known, or the most painful heartbreak Ive ever experienced.

Author: There is going to be multiple parts!! so stay tuned hope u enjoy!!

#fanfiction #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron #obx fic #rafe x reader #obx rafe cameron #rafe Cameron #outerbanks rafe

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forgetfulfish · 3 days ago

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I originally posted this as a reply to a reblog but I'm posting it here anyways:

The spiraling horror of the way the tasks get more and more mundane is brilliantly done. The viewer sees Gabby's situation and they're jarred by how screwed up it is. Severance for personal and selfish reasons. Then they emphasise the reality of this kind of existence so blatantly with Wellington Gemma's "I was just here", going to the dentist over and over again.

This image of the ultra rich handing off uncomfortable things goes from childbirth, to the dentist, to airplane turbulence. People so devoid of humanity they would in a literal way slice off a part of their own self and use it to avoid all pain and discomfort. However, the airplane amps it up a level of bizarreness, because that's a discomfort that is already fully avoidable. Countless nervous flyers every day take a sleeping tablet on a flight. Checking out of the concious world on a flight is already an option, so what's the appeal? That one could stay awake and converse and keep up appearances while on the flight? There's no possible reason that isn't entirely based on keeping up appearances. There's a whole other more ethical way to avoid that discomfort right there. The situation has spiraled from selfishly avoiding pain and locking that poor innie in the cabin 3 times, to the Wellington Gemma that ensures endless dental procedures to allow an outie to avoid even the most routine and trivial uncomfortable procedures, to keeping a person eternally on an airplane to avoid showing any even perceived weakness or fear. We've seen what having only the severed floor does to the Lumon innies, even with other innies around and diconnected from the outside world. Now scale that down to an airplane but there's nobody who understands you and you're never really anywhere always in the sky. Always expected to socialise with outies like you aren't even an innie. Gabby's innie wouldn't admit to being one, she put up a front, it's a reasonable jump to assume that's what will be expected of them.

And then they show the Christmas room. An innie created to avoid writing thank you notes at Christmas. A person who exists solely so that one would not have to go to the effort of actual human connection. But it goes deeper than that, this is a task one could pay an assistant to do for them. Any person who doesn't give a damn about thank you notes and can afford an optional brain surgery like severance could probably outsource this task with ease. Heck, a thank you note is something you could just forego entirely. But no, they think that one must keep up an appearance of gratitude, of a hand written thank you note, and they see no issue having one woman write forever so that they can have that. And this one scene hammers home the goal of keeping up appearances because the innie is expected to return their spouse's declartion of love. The innie must behave as the outie spouse would. A big cultural holiday that's meant to be about spending time with family is turned into her constant suffering all in the name of the outie avoiding being even slightly inconvenience having to perform a kind gesture. And what better framing for the corporatisation of human feeling than Christmas, a holiday famously intensely corporatised.

We went from singular rich lady selfisly offloads her suffering, to avoiding routine medical procedures by having a person go through them endlessly, to having somebody locked eternally in a vehicle simply to save face, to creating an innie to avoid anything that is even mildly annoying and in doing so turning what should be a relatively mundane task for the outie into an infinitely stretching never ending hell for an innie.

The viewer sees the horror of Gabby's innie's situation and the show just takes it lower and lower and lower. Absolute doom spiral of situations and motivations. Quality storytelling.

#severance #posting

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wandixx · 2 days ago

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Count the freckles, connect them like the stars part 1, Virgo

Summary: Five time Danny found and drew constellations from M'gann's freckles and one time she did that for him

Danny wasn’t quite sure how he went from “visiting Mount Justice to train with the Team” to “half laying on the kitchen island and watching M’gann cook”, but he was glad it happened. He had had rough fight with Skulker the day before, so every opportunity to not move was a salvation. Most likely, rest of the Team left him off the hook exactly because they caught it. They all were cool like that.

He smiled, slowly shifting a little to be more comfortable. He liked watching people doing things they like and know well. There was something mesmerizing about it.

The fact, that he could eat some of whatever she ended up making was a great addition. He was always ravenous when away from an ectoplasm central that was Amity Park.

He followed her hands with his eyes, with chin pillowed on his folded arms. There wasn’t as much she did with them as other people would in kitchen, her telekinesis was certainly a great aid, but there was still enough movement to be transfixed on. Especially today, when something in the back of his mind insisted that there was something unusual about her. She was explaining how she found recipe, on accident when looking for something so different that to this day she wasn’t sure how she ended up with this instead, how it was supposed to be super filling so she hoped they’ll all like it, especially Danny and Wally, because then she could make it somewhat regularly and they could have something more healthy than granola bars. He appreciated sentiment even if he insisted she didn’t have to.

He wondered if there was a polite and not weird way to say he’d eat wet carton if she served it to him.

Small sheet of paper and bullpoint pen landed right in front of him, close enough that he felt air move from them.

“Can you add canned tomatoes to the shopping list? English letters still come out unreadable when I try writing them and do something else”

“Sure”

At this point he stopped trying to explain that being able to write clearly when not looking at the paper was not a skill many people had even if English was only language they could write in. It kept falling on the deaf ears. Apparently it was something Martians just did.

Danny maintained his opinion that if they wanted, Martians could rule whole Solar System. And some nearby star systems. Maybe whole galaxy, in a really distant future.

He straightened up in his seat (ouch, ouch, ouch, his body was not a fan of this move), because unfortunately he needed hands, proper posture and quite a lot of focus to write in a way that would be readable to anyone outside of medical field.

Before he could drop back down, satisfied to just watch world around him without having to interact with it in any way, a freckled hand put a plate of some pasta in front of him. Despite tomatoes, it wasn’t spaghetti, which was neat. He promised Sam to try out vegetarian-Wednesdays and sure, she probably wouldn’t know if he ditched it one time, but still. It was nice that M’gann remembered.

He followed her hand with his eye for a moment longer, not quite ready to let go of whatever seemed to be there. It didn’t look too different from usual. Shade of her skin was the same, her fingers stayed short and slender and her freckles were different, but they never really stayed the same, so it wasn’t that either.

“Quit peeping, start eating” she said cheerily, flicking him on the forehead. He smiled and obediently looked at his meal. Before long though, his eyes flickered back to her. What was different? What was-

There.

“Did you know your freckles look like stars today?”

“They do?”

“Yeah. You have Virgo and Cassiopeia on your right forearm”

“Believe it or not, this tells me nothing. I don’t know Earth names for stars yet”

Right. He was an idiot.

He just barely stopped himself from face planting into his pasta in embarrassment.

“Tell me about them?” she asked quietly, like she wasn’t sure if she could.

Danny took a moment to make sure he heard this question right. Usually people tried to shut him down as soon as he mentioned space because he was prone to getting way too obsessive. It was understandable, it could be endearing when he was younger but now it was just plain annoying. Sam and Tucker sometimes indulged in him, especially after he became halfa, with every interest turned up to eleven, but he could never shake off the feeling that they weren’t really listening at times. He didn’t have anything to prove it, it wasn’t like they were taking out something else to do at the same time or anything, but also… they never asked about anything either. He’d catch himself making some small mistake that they should’ve caught too, mispronounce something they knew or say 19-11 instead of 16-11 when talking about invention of telescope, but there was nothing indicating they heard anything wrong.

It didn’t mean he wasn’t dying to tell her. He just didn’t want to chase her away. M’gann was a good friend.

“Are you sure? I can be pretty annoying about it”

“I want to learn. And you want to tell me”

Danny forgot to breathe for a moment and he wasn’t sure what caused it. M’gann looked at him like a deer in the headlights.

“I’m not reading your mind, at least not intentionally, you’d know if I did,” she stammered out quickly “But ghosts feelings are really loud, it’s hard to ignore that. Like… if everyone else’s mind is like a house with closed door, one of the older ones with brick walls and smaller windows and such, ghosts have greenhouses at best. Usually they’re also shouting whatever is inside that could potentially not be visible at the first glance. It’s hard to ignore. In your human form you’re usually just like a house with bigger windows and more see through curtains, but today you’re unusually loud. I think it’s because you’re healing so your ghost side is a bit closer to the surface”

“Ah. Alright, cool, cool”

“I can try to deliberately ignore you if you want, but it’s hard with how loud you are, and I’m not sure I wouldn’t drown out your verbal speech too. There isn’t much difference from my perspective”

“No, no, no, you don’t have to do anything, I was just surprised. Just maybe… don’t openly say anything about it? Whatever you hear, I’d kinda prefer to forget you can, for now, okay?”

“Sure thing. So, how does the Virgo look like? I like this name better”

Danny smiled and took pen from the grocery list.

“Virgo is one of the biggest constellations on sky in northern hemisphere and it’s best visible in Spring, so we can go try to find it in few weeks, if you want…”

“You’re asking? I’d love to!” she said with wide smile, sounding far too casual for what she just offered to him.

“Yeah? Cool, cool,” he took deep breath to refocus, because his brain was doing weird things again “I think it’ll be better if I show it to you then, with names of the stars and everything. But people like to make stories about stars, just like with any other aspect of the world around them. I can tell you about that?”

“Yeah, yeah, stop asking, start explaining”

"Okay, so it's a constellation from Babylonian and Greek zodiac. It's associated with goddesses, usually. I never remember the name of the Babylonian one, she was really important one though. Like, queen of gods, I think. Then, through Phoenicians, Greeks learned about Babylonian constellations and decided to adopt it, but they couldn't agree on which goddess should be in reflected in Virgo. So, some said it was Demeter, Goddess of Harvest and all that plant stuff. Others decided it was Cora or Persephone, she had two names, Demeter's daughter, and Godless of Spring and queen of the Underworld, which kinda makes sense, since according to myths, she was more or less trapped in Underworld throughout autumn and winter, and then returned to her mother and happiness of their meeting is what kick-starts the spring. It connects nicely with the fact that Virgo actually gets visible at the start of the Spring but Sun passes through it in autumn, though I'm not sure if some of that isn't caused by slight shift that happens over the course of the years... which is not what I was supposed to talk about sorry"

Feather-light fingers brushed against his hair. He leaned into it with slight smile.

"It's fine. Talk about what gets on your mind, I’m happy to listen," M'gann said gently "So, there were these two possible goddesses who could be represented by this Virgo constellation"

He gently grasped the hand that had this constellation on it, and put a pen down at the first freckle. He haven’t really thought about it, but it felt like the right thing to do.

"Actually, there is third one,” he whispered, suddenly feeling like anything louder would be wrong “She is my favorite for the story, though I don't quite know why. It's probably mostly that Demeter and Persephone have their other times to shine and i just don't see them in stars," line was made connecting two freckles -two stars- as if it was astronomical guide. The thin tipped pen needed a bit of pressure before it left the mark behind. M'gann skin dipped under it more than he realized it should "Her name is Astrea, Goddess of Justice and Innocence. She was one of the titans, so before the gods, though specifics aren't really important. She, unlike both titans and gods, lived among humans. Others preferred mountain tops, respectively Othrys and Olympus-"

"Oh! It's the name that humans gave to that volcano on M'arzz, isn't it?" M'gann asked, sounding delighted to connect information he was giving her to something familiar. Danny didn't raise his head from where he was marking her skin. He didn't know why this felt wrong either. There was something almost sacred in it though.

"Yeah. Since it's the biggest mountain in Solar System, so we named it after mythical home of gods"

"That's nice"

For a moment, they sat in silence, interrupted only by slow breaths and humming of the fridge.

"So, Astrea lived among humans. How did she end up among stars?"

"She was one of the Titans, and back when they reigned, it was a mythical Golden Age. Humanity was pure and innocent and only needed what nature provided us, without having to put in any work. There was no change in seasons, so they didn't even have to worry about scarcity of resources in winter" he lightly went over lines he drew between Spica and Porrima so he could continue on his journey down to Syrma and other stars. He didn’t really raise his pen above M’gann’s skin, just eased it away slightly, so it wouldn’t write for a moment “It was a paradise. But then the gods came and overthrown most titans because of feud that isn't really relevant here. This war was called Tytanomachy and was so destructive that it wiped out all of humans. They were remade later, but slightly worse, slightly less pure. Also, seasons became the thing, so they had to develop agriculture and architecture. They were no longer perfect, but still innocent and righteous enough for Astrea to stay. But with time came Bronze and Iron Ages, with weapons and money and wars and impiety, and people became greedy and cruel and unjust and just against everything she really stood for. So she ascended to heavens, and became constellation of Virgo. But she is said to return at the end of times and bring new Golden Age with her"

“It’s… really pretty story. I like how despite this narrative of living in the worst of times, times so bad that even goddess couldn’t handle, there is little bit of hope for return of the paradise”

"Humanity has a lot of hope in it... And also a lot of «grass is greener on the other side» syndrome, with assuming that times before were better and easier, simply because we don't know about problems people faced back then. Just fill in blanks in a way that fits us"

"I mean, this is similar to a way I decided to escape to Earth, and I'm not complaining"

He finished of last line.

"Neither am I. Nor any other person on the Team. And everyone you saved. Are you, perhaps aspect of Astrea walking around us to see if it's right time to return?" he asked, before he realized how stupid and mortifying this idea was. For a moment, they just looked at each other, with this weirdly intimate tension between them, that almost made him consider the chances of his stupid joke having some merit to it before-

M’gann laughed, bright and loud. Danny joined her, but quickly stopped when overtired muscles reminded him why exactly it was a bad idea.

"Shut up and eat your pasta, you dork. It won’t be any good if it’s cold"

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #danny fenton x m'gann m'orzz #danny fenton/m'gann m'orzz #I like (and need) them soft like cotton candy; okay?!#I was so excited to share it that I almost gave you all version with all of the [Polish word because I forgot it in English at the moment]#hope you'll like it as much as I do #this is the story i mentioned and came up with on Valentines #one of these days I'll actually write the whole story about them that isn't just fluff with chocolate sprinkles of potential angst #but today is not that day #count the freckles; connect them like stars #wandixx writes #have a nice day dear stranger who got to this part

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onlyangel4 · 2 days ago

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booking of the century. drew mcintrye. part two.

drew mcintyre x returning!reader

part one

synopsis: triple h books you four years since your last match and a lot has changed but the man you fell in love with all those years ago still has your heart.

warnings: slow burn. will be multiple parts. loss of a parent after medical event. angst (more to come).

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

"look what the cat dragged in", jon hollered as soon as he spotted you outside the airport dragging your suitcase behind you.

“i swear down i will turn around and get on a plane home”, you laughed shaking your head, arms instinctively opening for trinity to run into.

“nope, i'm going to hug you as tight as possible so you never leave me again”, the woman teased from inside your arms making you laugh again as jon grabbed your suitcase putting it into the trunk of the car.

“i still can’t believe boss man left us in charge of the biggest secret in modern wrestling”, jon exclaimed getting into the driver’s seat.

“it’s not that big of a secret, shaun and luis know as well”, you spoke but in reality you knew jon was right. other than the top dogs in production only four fellow wrestlers knew exactly what was going to happen tonight, the last smackdown before the chamber. It was a massive secret, one that you thought you would be unable to pull off but everything had slipped into place and now it was only a few hours before your highly anticipated return.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

getting to the stadium had been a huge blur, you had sat in the backseat in silence just listening to the friendly bickering from your two close friends in the front but your mind was somewhere else, it was stuck on him. he had no idea that you were coming back, how would he react? would he be angry at you for not telling him? only time would tell, and that made bile rise in your throat.

drew had been the person who believed in you when no one else did, he was the person who would drag you out of bed to train on your off days, he was your biggest fan and greatest inspiration, so surprising him in such a way felt wrong but hunter had convinced you that it was best for business, for both of you.

sometimes your mind wandered back to what could have been between the both of you, stuff was so fresh when your mother got ill, but if it had just been a year in the future maybe you would have let drew come home with you, maybe you would have let him support you in the way that he wanted to. but you couldn’t get hung up on maybes and what ifs. looking after your mother had been your number one priority and you had done your duty, now it was time to get back to work.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

a squeal pulled you out of your thoughts, you had arrived at the stadium and the back door of the car had been swung open, on the other side stood one of your closest friends, “there’s my girl” steph barely gave you enough time to get out of the car before her arms engulfed you in a mighty hug.

“jesus girl maybe you should be the one getting back in the ring, with all that strength of yours”, you teased your friend playfully before being led through a back entrance that had been specifically cleared for you.

“i feel like the president or some shit”

steph just shook her head at you before pulling you into a small room, “okay so you can get ready in here, hair and make up will come in here in about an hour, only let someone if they knock twice alright”, she spoke her voice turning professional.

“steph are you sure this is all necessary”

“yes we can’t have news of your return getting out this close to it, the internet is going to go mad”

you spoke to steph for about half an hour before she left to go to some sort of last minute meeting, then the hair and make up ladies came to the room and sorted you out ready for the show. the whole time you were in your own little world. part of you could not believe that this was really happening, that you were really back. another part of yourself was angry that you had not returned earlier, you missed the electric atmosphere that hung in the air pre show, the anticipation for what was going to come.

eventually enough time had lapsed and two knocks told you that it was time to go, you swung the door open and you were met with a familiar face, luis also known as damian priest, “i wasn’t going to believe that you were back until i saw you”

“in the flesh”, you smiled at the man

“we are on in five, you ready to go?”

“as ready as i’ll ever be”

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

drew did not know what to expect. he had been told to go out and shoot a promo ahead of the elimination chamber, talking about how he was going to win the chamber in a ruthless way, he had also been warned that there was going to be an interruption but that was all he knew. when drew had voiced worry about not knowing what to say when he did not have time to prepare hunter had just patted him on the back and said, “trust me, you will know exactly what to say”, the ominous reassurance from his boss left drew with more questions than answers.

but as a guy who always did what he was told drew just nodded and now he was stood in the centre of the ring, mic in his hands a mixture of cheers and boos radiating from the audience, something that made the scottish psychopath smirk as he cleared his throat.

“after tomorrow i am going to be the king of toronto”, the crowd booed in rebellion

“aw don’t be so sad, you are going to get the match of a lifetime, you get to watch me lay out all of your favourites”, he continued.

“i have been dead set of revenge ever since the rumble and nothing is going to get in my way”, then suddenly he was cut off by jimmy uso’s music as the man appeared down the bottom of the ramp, earning a huge pop from the crowd. drew was about to continue when jimmy held up a finger to his lips shhhing him. then la knight’s music played and the megastar arrived at jimmy’s side.

“what are you two doing here, i beat both of you. you have no place here”, drew spoke harshly.

“well you may have beaten both of us but neither us want you to win”, jimmy started

“we have our money on a different horse, a horse that actually has skill and not just rage”, la knight finished a smirk on his lips as damian priest’s music echoed through the stadium and the man entered.

“they might not be in the match but i am”, damian priest’s low voice echoed through the mic, “and I have some punishing to do”

“do you really think a conversation with you and your war dogs is going to throw me off my game? are you really that stupid”, drew spoke laughing at the man’s attempt but damian simply shook his head.

“you are difficult person to get information on drew, with the likes of rollins and punk I can just bring up their families and get under their skin. but not you. it really got me thinking. but then i remembered we have a friend in common and i invited them to toronto to watch me destroy you”

“no one you bring here could throw me off my ga-“, drew couldn’t even finish his sentence when your music began to play, a song that he had not heard in four whole years and the wind was knocked right out of him.

the crowd went fucking mental when they saw you walk to damian’s side, you had been a fan favourite during your time in the company, with many calling you a modern day aj lee. they loved you and they still did.

drew could not believe it, the woman that had left his life just as he had been falling in love with her was at the top of the ring eyes trained on him, a light smile on her lips, but it didn’t reach her eyes and that worried the man slightly, maybe you weren’t ready to be back, maybe you didn’t want to see him. His mind was racing and his face was blank as he looked straight at you.

“what’s wrong bro you look like you have seen a ghost”, jimmy chuckled as he looked at drew.

“y/n is here to just make sure that you aren’t all talk, you say that you are going to win the chamber no matter what, she is just here to show the world that you are a liar”, la spoke his hand resting on your shoulder.

“you’ve made this personal”, drew spat out

“this has always been personal, you forgot that because you have not had anyone you care about in the wings for four years”, damian shot back.

then you finally lifted the mic up to your lips, “see you tomorrow drew”, the lights went out in the stadium and you and the three man had disappeared leaving drew along in the ring dumbfounded.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

“holy shit y/n I did not know the crowd could even get that loud”, jon spoke squeezing your shoulder making you laugh, “I’m so glad you are back”, he spoke as he walked back stage with you.

“i’m glad to be back”

the next few moments were a blur with superstars that did not know of your return running over to give you a hug and welcome you back into the company and you were smiling, properly this time. maybe you had been worried for nothing, maybe you were exactly where you belonged, surrounded by people that loved you and wanted the best for you.

eventually you manged to escape the crowd of people that had surrounded you, heading down to your dressing room, pulling your hair out of it’s high pony as you walked, opening the door as your hair fell over your shoulders, finally free.

what you had not been expecting had been to see drew stood in the room, eyes locked on the door arms crossed over his chest.

you froze eyes looking at the man, daring him to do something, daring him to shout at you for ambushing him without warning, expecting anger from the large man in front of you. but instead his gaze softened, eyes became warned as he closed the distance between you his arms welcoming you into an all too familiar hug that you melted into. Drew kept his arms around you, holding you close as if you would disappear if he let go of you. he then leant down to your ear lips barely centimetres away from your skin.

“we have a lot to talk about”

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