#if they wanted to see the kid first in case they ''didn't like him''

[xan-izme]

𝐌𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞𝐬

Prologue

Your mother was a beautiful kind and dangerous woman. In short. She was a Falcone. And for young Bruce, being with her was a thrill. Being Batman gave him a thrill, but your mother was a different kind of thrill.

Till she got pregnant. And the thrill was gone.

Your mother kept you of course. Counting the days till she gets to hold you in her arms. And when she finally got to hold you, to feel you close and hear your sweet little voice. The rest of the Falcone men decided that your mother wasn't ready to take care of you. So, they forced you out of her arms and sent you to Bruce.

Bruce held you once. And immediately passed you to Alfred. He was too young to become a father. (Never mind the fact he was already acting as a father to two boys)

He didn't have time to play daddy. Deep down Bruce did come to care for you over the years and attempted to try and hold you. But then Jason died, Dick distanced himself. Holding you, an innocent little thing, felt wrong.

When you were eight. You had tantrums. Night terrors. terribly scared of the dark. Thunderstorms especially. Gotham famous for its long dark nights and loud thunderstorms. Bruce, too busy with his new sidekick, Tim. Didn't have time to comfort you. No matter how heartbreaking your scrams for him were. Crying for him, so he can save you from whatever nightmare you have woken from.

But only Alfred occasionally Dick, would come and save you.

Bruce would give you toys, new dresses as a form of apology. He wouldn't give it to you directly. But have Alfred give it to you or leave it in your room when asleep. But no matter how many new toys he gives you. Those nightmares just never stopped.

Due to the neglect. Your mother was able to meet with you secretly. As years passed, she was able to steal you away when Alfred wasn't hovering around you. Take you to shop and give you whatever you wanted. Holding you in her arms and not wanting to let go.

Slowly, your mother was gaining the favor of some of the Falcones. To let her have you back. To welcome you back into the Falcone family. Once she gets the whole family to agree. She can make a case of child neglect against Bruce Wayne and take her sweet Babygirl back.

But when you were ten. Your powers began to kick in. You told Bruce, hoping your father would help you. Help you understand. Bruce, told you to keep it a secret. And to tell no one else.

Having a kid who was a meta was the last thing he needed at the moment. Trying to re-connect with Jason who still had deep hate for him instead focusing on his first-born child who was struggling to understand.

You felt like a freak.

And it wasn't long till you lost control of your powers. To keep it short. You accidently killed a few other kids with your powers. It was an accident. You swore. You see you would have just been left off. Your a kid. It was an accident. But most of all your a Wayne. But one of the kids you killed was a Falcone.

And Bruce couldn't risk you getting killed. He cared about you. Just not as much as he should. So, to avoid the wrath of the Falcone's. Bruce had to claim you were mentally ill. Sending you to Arkham. Only for a few months. That's what he said to you. That's what he promised.

You did your six months in Arkham. Six months turned to eight. Eight months turned to ten. Ten months turned to two years. Then finally, you were taken out from your cell. Lead by two prison guards. They said you had a visitor. You assumed it was another reporter. But was proven wrong when you see Bruce on the other side of the thick glass. You were shocked but happy to see your father.

"Daddy." You spoke softly as you slowly smile, putting your hand on the glass. Bruce hesitates to put his hand on the glass, once he does, he focused back to you. Your eyes stared at him with so much love and hope.

". . . Your case. . . the court decided you're, too unstable to attend court, so. . ." Bruce didn't look at you as he spoke. So, he couldn't see the smile on your face fade. Confusion taking over.

"But. . . I did my six months. . . I-I've been here for a year! Daddy, please I didn't do it on purpose!" You were on the edge of crying.

"I promise. I'll get you out of here as soon as I can." Bruce wanted to try and console you. But that was harder due to the glass between you two. He reaches out his hand to the glass once more. But the loud buzz that queued it was time for you to get back to your cell.

"Please Daddy don't let them take me!" You cried, putting both hands on the glass. You were in full despair. Bruce didn't know what to do. He can take the risk from the Falcones and get you out with a snap of his fingers. Or he can make it easy for everyone but you and wait till you serve your time.

". . . I'm sorry" Bruce can see you falling deeper and deeper into dispare.

Guards burst from the doors and had to forcefully take you away.

"No- No! Daddy please! DADDY!" Your screamed louder as the guards took you away, reaching out to Bruce who just stood there. And did nothing. As always.

Seven years later.

No one ever visited you again. Well, no one from the Waynes. But your mother visited you every week. Her visits where the only reason you kept saine.

Arkham isn't all fun and games. Obviously. You were immitted into Arkham's fucked version of rehabilitation. You started hearing things after your first month in Arkham.

. . .

You sent letters almost every day to the Wayne manor. But never got any back. None from Bruce. None from Dick. You and Tim weren't close. So, you didn't expect anything from him. Alfred prefers to call you. Wanting to hear your voice to make sure you were not lying to him when he asks of your wellbeing.

You stopped sending letters to Bruce a few months ago. Not like he'll respond anyway. You don't need Bruce. You have your mother. And she's all you'll need. She's your world now, your reason to keep living this pointless life. And once you're out, Mama promised to give you a big hug. Which you so desperately needed.

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

"𝙸 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚊𝚍𝚍𝚢. . . 𝚍𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚖𝚎?"

[smiletimeisrunningout]

Ben's words and expression reminded Emma of the way he spoke of his youth, of his lack of experience with women, how he believed himself to be not quite the looker as a boy. He clearly didn't enjoy being easily embarrassed now, especially when it came to bedding people, and she knew as a man he'd hardly find people encouraging that side of him. It was so silly, to think of how they were encouraged to act like they had no weaknesses, and she may have felt the same about the matter, had she not been raised by a man like her father.

"Make no mistake, I would not want you to be any different," she decided to say then, bringing a hand to his cheek and cupping it gently, "Even the parts of you I can't read because I'm all sorts of confused by my own feelings. If you'll ever choose to come home with me, you'll be welcomed to spend your days reading to kids and looking for new poems and books. You'll never have to be calm and collected unless you wish to be."

Although there was something funny about thinking of Ben living the life of retirement and lazy days that she had planned for her hypothetical future old husband, and instead of that happening because she only needed a husband to have her throne it would be because she had a husband she liked.

"Or you could do whatever you want, I'm making it sound like I'm going to... hold you hostage like some sort of beauty in the tower." God, she had almost said 'marry you'. So much for going as slow as possible. "I just meant to say that I don't want you to change one bit for me, I like you the way you are. Besides the part where you grow double the patience you have now, so you can withstand my moods."

"Oh, come on, it can't be that bad, I would love for you to show me and prove me wrong."

"The side of my bed has a few canvas, you have my permission to check because they are landscapes and, unlike faces, they actually look decent," she offered, adjusting her position on the bed; it hurt, again, and Emma wondered how long it would take before she'd be able to just kiss him as much as she'd like. He was so interested, and so damn kissable. "The next time I'm not dying and we can go out, we'll find a place where I can sing, then. I doubt the rest of your army would be keen. They have more important things to deal with... you don't, anymore, because you have chosen to court me and you must act accordingly," she teased, giving his cheek a light tap.

"I'll finally convince you that books aren't so bad -- or at the very least, listening along to a good story?"

"See, the compromise is right there: you read a book you like, you tell me about it. Much better if you want me to pay attention from beginning to end. Plus, it won't harm me like reading. The headaches just aren't worth it, when I can be told the story." She was surprised whenever she met people who were so dedicated to books; her father loved reading, but he didn't have enough time to do so, so she figured he didn't have to battle with the inevitable headaches as much, but August and Ben? Masochists.

I'm not so sure I can reciprocate, but that's because I only tend to fall into bed with those I...w-well, I prefer meaning to my dalliances-" "Oh, sweetie," she whispered, smiling in reassurance. "-And clearly, I hadn't found that before you, since you were...y-you were my... My first."

"No, I know that, and that's lovely, really. I would never expect you to drop your values for me," she assured him, "There is nothing wrong with you waiting, you know that. In fact, you should be proud: you did it the way you wanted, when you wanted, and not because you felt you had to. That takes guts. I may not share the... uh... philosophy behind it, but I will defend it until the end of days." Though it was still odd to her that he hadn't been taken aback by her history. "I don't... I think I don't really kiss much, if there is no feeling behind it? Even if, in my case, generally the feeling was friendship, I suppose to me it's kissing that required some meaning. It feels so intimate. Like holding hands."

She took his hand, not just to make a point but to feel just how natural it was. She may lay with a stranger, but she certainly would not hold hands with him.

"In fact, I've been told I'm rather hotheaded, and despite my father's valiant efforts, I'm not the best with sharing, either. Not that I intend to."

Her gasp was far too intrigued, "You are jealous?" she asked in delight, "Oh, that sounds fun. We have to revisit that once I have healed enough... Naturally, you know you don't need to worry about me looking at other men, I find the thought of cheating repulsive." That and when she had met Selah Strong in passing and had properly ogled him, she had almost died on the spot after Caleb had explained he was married to their friend Anna. Her horror at having looked at the man for too long had even entertained James, who had apparently expected her 'not to care' on account of her being 'so carefree', which he had not meant as an insult, but had horrified her even more. No, taken men were off-limits, and so was she as a taken woman. "But if you wish to deck someone because they cross a line with me or something of the sort, please make sure I'm there."

"Perhaps my fear made you appear more... calm and collected about the whole ordeal than you actually were," she suggested, which wasn't an unfair assumption. "I do hope I'll get to see that... gollumpus you speak of. He seems just my type."

Benjamin grinned, his eyes shining self-consciously. "Trust me: no one has ever called me calm and collected, and least especially when it comes to protecting those I love. But if my gollumpus side is the one you're yearning for, I just might have some competition on my hands."

All the naked things?

Yet again, Benjamin felt a damnable spread of heat searing across his face as he laughed, darting his eyes in between her face and the ground. He wasn't sure why after all this time he was still shy at such talk -- especially since she'd never exactly been withholding when it came to her candidness -- but with a shake of his head, he softly reassured, "No, I...w-well, according to Caleb, I'm very much like an open book. If I like someone, or dislike them, it's plain as day... But apparently not to those who truly matter."

Emma was quick to dismiss any artistic pursuits. Despite her typical self-deprecation (something that he, himself, tended to mirror in his own behavior), Benjamin found himself laughing at the idea. "Oh, come on, it can't be that bad," he said. "I would love for you to show me and prove me wrong."

When she brought up singing, he perked up. "I've heard you were fond of it," he allowed, "but I've never actually been privy to a concert. I was always out and about, or busying myself with papers, and...other tasks."

It occurred to him then that Emma wasn't wholly privy to the ring. Perhaps he should tell her someday, he thought, if she wished to be given the ultimate sign of his trust and admiration.

Seemingly oblivious to his inner conflict, Emma continued, "Considering that, it's odd that I miss painting. But I... like the idea of doing that while you read... doing that sort of thing together, as in sharing a room. Or tent, in this case."

"I like that too," Benjamin softly reassured. "And maybe one day, one day, I'll finally convince you that books aren't so bad -- or at the very least, listening along to a good story?"

Emma appeared rather embarrassed, but before he could ask what he'd done, she was quick to turn around and embarrass him. "I assure you," she coyly said, "had you been inclined, I would have taken you to bed long before knowing you as a person. Just because of your looks. Multiple women being interested in you is not out of the realm of possibilities."

"I...thank you?" Benjamin stammered, his brows scrunching with a self-conscious chuckle. "I'm not so sure I can reciprocate, but that's because I only tend to fall into bed with those I...w-well, I prefer meaning to my dalliances. And clearly, I hadn't found that before you, since you were...y-you were my..." Awkwardly, he waved a hand before shyly concluding, "My first."

Emma rattled off all the ways other women could be jealous -- the idea seemed absurd to him, if he was being honest -- yet she was quick to denounce such thoughts. "That sounds horrible," she decided. "I hope my status will scare them away. You are lucky no one has tried to woo me here so you don't need to witness it, but I'll have to prepare so I can have a proper ladylike reaction, it's not as if I can fight them, they are ladies."

Benjamin scoffed. "You are lucky for that, too," he challenged. "I confess, I've never had to keep menfolk away from a woman, but I do know I'm not much for jealousy. In fact, I've been told I'm rather hotheaded, and despite my father's valiant efforts, I'm not the best with sharing, either. Not that I intend to." He flashed a lopsided smile. "I'll share your time here and there, but anything else risks that gollumpus we talked about coming into play."

[onnahu]

Jason is the only Gotham vigilante that can critisise the existence of child superheroes - i don't really count Scarlet here, but like, we know writers are doing whatever, and he was ooc so whatever. Even tho I love Scarlet. But it's not about it.

Anyways. All the others were unstoppable. They were doing whatever they wanted with or without Batman - that's why he has excuse for mixing children into his crime fighting. Jason however - sure, he wanted to be Robin, but what child wouldnt? He was like a kid who wants a puppy. He really really wants it, but if a parent says no, then it's a no. He can live without it, and sure, if he finds an abandoned puppy he would smuggle it in - he would however not go around trying to get a puppy by stealing it or whatever.

When Jason helped with Ma'Gunns case, it was pretty opportunistic - he saw something was happening, and he stepped in. However, he survieved a few years on streets - he wouldn't if he meddled in what's not his bussiness. If he stumbled upon a crime he would stop it, because he has a strong moral compass, even if slightly crooked. He would not, however, go out of his way to find crime like does Bruce, Dick, Stephanie, Cassandra etc. He was an opportunistic hero. When Batman agreed for him to become Robin, he made him be proactive in fighting.

Jason had issues already - he grew up around violence and fear. He needed not to go deeper into it to see dead bodies up close. He needed to have a normal life with going to school, meeting with friends and doing stupid teenager shit without fighting the mob or supervillains.

Jason's life would not end if he didn't get Robin. It would be even better, in my opinion.

I'm kinda tired so I won't find this panel now, but when Nightwing finds out about Jason being Robin, he confronts Batman about it. Bruce admits that he missed Dick and at first he took Jason in as a kind of replacement for his empty nest syndrome. The same is with Robin. Bruce did not thing smart then - he was emotional and give in without a fight because he missed Dick. Then, he was dissaponited when Jason wasn't like Dick.

Also, he made Jason feel like he wanted him only for Robin. All the real problems in DitF are because Jason thought he's not worth anything for Bruce if he's not Robin.

And then he died.

Being Robin destroyed Jason. It took away any chance at normal life he had and killed him. His worldview got even more messed up than it was before.

He's the only one that could not be Robin and just live with it, even being better off.

So, when Jason critisised Batman for taking on child partners, he has every right. He also doesn't get that they couldn't be stopped (I mean there is the Scarlet situation and also Mia but again, ooc). For him being Robin was the worst and the best thing that happended to him. It didn't have to.

This post is a mess but I'm a mess so...

Anyways, I love Jason and cry about him.

[twilightkitkat]

Thinking about when Deadpool and Wolverine takes place in the timeline and how it falls in place with Logan (2019).

I like to mainly ignore the mess of a timeline or think they just retconned the timelines so that Deadpool & Wolverine took place after Logan (meaning Logan took place earlier somehow?). Still, it's also very possible Deadpool time-traveled forward to Logan's grave using the TVA device.

In which case it's fascinating that they chose Wade from 2024 to snatch instead of... any other point in time. When they very well could've just grabbed him at a time when he would've been OK with leaving because Vanessa died (and they could promise to bring him to a new version of her). It insinuates that there was a reason to go back to 2024 and snatch this Deadpool in particular at his birthday party of all things. Maybe they realized he was the most psychologically vulnerable, then, and that he wanted a sense of greater purpose desperately enough to be willing to join them.

But aside from the choice to choose that version of Wade, we need to review the implication that the original Logan could currently be alive in the timeline. He died in 2029, and Wade is currently living in 2024. In this case, however, wouldn't Wade's first course of action be to... stop him from dying in his own timeline? If his death hadn't yet occurred and wouldn't for several years, he should be able to just alter the timeline and keep the original Logan alive as an anchor point.

Of course, Marvel wouldn't allow the Deadpool and Wolverine Movie to touch the original timeline so this option is out for meta reasons. However, you could argue that canonically, the main reason Wade avoided this was that he didn't have the time. The TVA operates independently of the timeline, so if Wade went back a few years, they could just zap in, too. He'd have a few days at most before they caught up to him, and that wasn't enough time to completely change Logan's mind and prevent him from dying. If it was a single moment, it could be prevented, but Logan had been slowly poisoning himself for years. Also, no way in hell could he convince Logan to help him out back then in the time allotted.

That being said, I find it really interesting that the TVA chose now to eliminate the timeline. If all timelines flow linearly and the TVA knows about how the future will go, would they not have known that the anchor being was going to die? And if it would wipe the entire timeline from existence from the very start, then wouldn't the timeline immediately end as soon as it began? Considering the Deadpool 2024 timeline was going to be wiped when Logan died in 2029. You'd think the timeline would start destabilizing after 2029 or the point of his canonical death, which is another reason I personally like to move his death earlier up to avoid all the confusion.

Another explanation for this could be that there is a "flow of time" as the TVA sees time as it unfolds normally. They can see different possibilities, but are not omniscient. Therefore, once "2029" hit and Logan died, they had to decide how to move forward and decided to take Deadpool and then end the entire timeline at the "2029" timestamp before it got further, thus eliminating all the years before it (including Wade's) in the process.

Aside from timeline technicalities, let's consider Logan's role in the world in the Logan and Deadpool & Wolverine movies.

I think it's important to point out that the one kid's reaction to seeing The Wolverine wasn't fear, but awe and excitement. This means that while mutants still might face discrimination, they aren't viewed as inherently bad by the population. According to "Logan," mutants had been actively hunted for years, but in Deadpool and Wolverine which takes place only 5 years prior, the X-men have a positive public reception. Logan quit publicly being the Wolverine by this point in time, judging by his absence at X-mansion and the shock of the kid.

I think that the majority of mutant hate began with the Westchester Incident in 2028. I also think that while Charles in particular was a target of mutant hatred, there were some more progressive areas of the world where it wasn't as much of an issue to be a mutant. (Just like the current US, I think that mutant policies would vary based on state legislature. I think it'd be handled similarly to abortion laws—the federal protection was taken away and so mutants were targeted, but some states still advocated for their rights.)

I also like to think that the "corn syrup" plot would be fixed in this new timeline and that Logan in particular just consumed products with those issues. There wouldn't just be one supplier and he drinks an absurd amount of alcohol, which would lead to his issues. Other mutants in the Deadpool Universe don't suffer from a lack of abilities, and only Logan was affected by the corn syrup dramatically among his friends. They talked about gene therapy as if it was put into the corn syrup a long time ago, which wouldn't make sense because the X-men and villains all have full mutation strength currently.

Therefore, the corn syrup is either more localized to the products Logan was buying (potentially in Mexico), or it was a weak form of therapy. I believe it could be a mixture of both. After all, the corn syrup just suppressed the "latent" X genes in children, it didn't stop the gene in any already expressed mutants aside from Logan. His healing factor was strong enough to deter it normally, except he was being affected by adamantium poisoning and he wasn't eating properly. Wolverine needs sustenance to fuel his healing factor, but as shown in the movie he wasn't eating. He only really drank alcohol, which had a high concentration of corn syrup, on an empty stomach.

Basically, Logan only died because he didn't eat enough to fuel his healing factor to work against the corn syrup and he consumed it in large quantities without any food to absorb it. It wouldn't be dangerous to other mutants like Deadpool who only consume it in trace amounts and get nutrition from the foods they eat which helps absorb the chemicals. If Logan had eaten properly, this wouldn't have happened.

Assuming that another Wolverine was running around at this point in time, he likely is currently in Mexico or Canada and away from Deadpool's area. The X-mansion will continue to stay intact in the future even after Logan and Charles leave, as shown by the more recent movies, so the timeline would be largely unaffected.

(Except for the fact that this current Logan exists and is living with Wade. It would definitely be odd to some people to see Logan suddenly show up looking a lot less aged living with a mercenary, but I think most of them would take it in stride.)

All of this is to say that I just ignore the timeline and like to think Logan died back in 2019 instead of 2029 (or that Deadpool has meta-knowledge that shapes his perception to be that way.) But it is interesting to consider the implications of the timeline if we take it seriously.

[voxvalentine]

HI HELLO WE OWNED ONE OF THESE BOOKS WHEN WE WERE A KID BECAUSE WE GOT IT FOR LIKE A DOLLAR AT A GARAGE SALE LIKE MOST KIDS OUGHT TO

in our case we had monster tales.

The stories are a wide variety of tales about monsters, some of them with relatively happy endings and some of them outright dire for the people involved. This book was also written in 1973 which means it uses some words, inappropriately! Like for example the first story is called Wendigo's Child and takes place in Arizona. But what really brings the whole thing together is the art. The art is structured but loose in places, it has definition that flows and blends and streaks to create a roughness on top of the lines, it's great.

A young kid in Arizona explores an indigenous burial mound to look for arrowheads or other artifacts and instead finds a half-human half-bird mummy roughly the size of a human child. He takes it back to his place so he can turn it over to researchers because "oh shit I found a mummy". It ends. Poorly. This was my first brush with "hey sometimes children will be killed by the monster" in literature, and it's not explicit in the slightest, but it's spine-tingling.

This one's from the Torchbearer. A young boy is taken in by a medieval lord who is a Satanist, and I mean full-bore "sign the Devil's ledger" medieval Satanist, to be the lord's torchbearer. It ends with the lord's castle being raided and the boy escaping.

A young Welsh girl does a little ritual to try and speak to her dead brothers and fathers after a mining accident claims their lives and in the process sees someone else doing much the same with more dangerous results. Had to refresh myself on this one because I didn't remember it well.

After an asshole lord kills his puppy, a medieval peasant boy falls in with a witch who gives him a means by which to turn into a wolf and exact his revenge. Not quite John Wick but a fairly simple story of magic and revenge.

Go werewolf boy go.

All I remember is that this is about a vampire and killing a vampire.

the intro art for this story freaked me out so bad for years but what's notable is that this story is more or less an explicit comedy with some revenge elements. A teen boy is being bullied mercilessly at summer camp by older kids and a shitty counselor, and stumbles across a local woman who's like "hey kid wanna be a vrkolak? It'll let you scare the pants off those guys!" Naturally the boy is like "obviously I want to be a vrkolak" and he hassles them a bit in the dead of night by trapping them in a bathroom and making scary noises and intimidating them.

Million dollar question though, what is a vrkolak?

A GIANT BIPEDAL FROG MAN. And it ends with the boy being like "getting revenge was rad and about once a month I get to still turn into a vrkolak and go hang out in a pond, this was a great choice".

this book rules, check it out if you can.

This is Horror Tales: Spirits, Spells, & the Unknown (1974), edited by Roger Elwood and gorgeously illustrated by Robert Baumgartner. It is, I thiiink, the last in an unofficial 6-volume series of similarly bound and dressed books from Rand McNally (the others are Tales of Terror, Monster Tales, Baleful Beasts and Eerie Creatures, and two volumes of Science Fiction Tales. Most of them are edited by Elwood. I know them from when I was a kid — my local library had a few of them on the shelves. They don’t seem common on the second-hand market, which makes me think they were primarily marketed to libraries, similar to Helen Hoke’s excellent anthologies.

I confess, I have never read this. Honestly, I don’t recognize a single author. Well, one, maybe, I think might be a shitheel who got booted from the Horror Writers Association a couple years back. The rest ring no bells — if you told me they were all Elwood writing under different pseudonyms, I’d believe you.

I’m hear for the art, really. Baumgatner’s stuff is somehow both wholesome and nightmarish. There is a folksy vibe to his style and it mostly feels warm and inviting, but everything also looks like it might melt into horrible goo at any moment, the way the G.I. Joes do in the mindfucking horror cartoon classic, "There's No Place Like Springfield." I particularly like the one of the kid in bed, scared of the shadows and the tree outside, because it reminds me of staring at my wallpaper as a kid in bed and being convinced it was moving and that the toys in the pattern were going to come down off the wall and get me. God. Where was I? Halloween? Horror? Never turn the lights off ever again?

[ideasarestuckinmyhead]

Auron and Boo being the trope of “grumpy older guy dad figure x younger little shit kid figure”(can be story or headcanons) (also this sis entirely based off of that post of me comparing them to Ron and April from Parks and Rec)

Somehow they got here.

I hope you enjoy this!!

Let's say this is a Au where Auron and Boo actually meet each other. Like the one I wrote about where Finn didn't reverse time bc it couldn't work.

Since Auron went to the bar to talk to Derek he meets them and sees how their like a animal cornered.

He sees himself so he decided to help them. Auron get's Al and Seth to a hospital and gets them treatment. Also covering up what Boo did. (Kinda based off a fic I read once i don't remember the name but its on ao3)

After the whole thing Auron does keep in contact to make sure Boo is okay since it was their first kill. And Boo begrudgingly uses his help bc them killing Derek as rewarding as it was did fuck with them.

I can see Auron looking over Boo's progress in case they do breakdown because of what they did. Seeing how they are okay he tries to not seem over bearing or over stepping boundaries they might have.

But Boo who is grateful for his help sends over treats they made. Making sure their not too sweet since it seems Auron doesn't like sweet things so much.

At once point Auron did make a joke of how Boo's shot wasn't the best. That they should take classes or go to a gun range to fix their shooting.

They both look at each other before Boo snorts and tells him like he's one to talk. Auron didn't even shoot the bastard.

I feel like these two would enjoy saying dark humor jokes to each other. Is it to cope? who knows but it's funny hearing Auron joke.

Boo after a while learns about Rook and is like "Holy shit someone wanted to be with you??" As a joke and Auron is like "Boo, shut up."

Auron learns more about Alphonse and Seth from Boo, he comments how the three of them are a good group. Even tells Boo to keep them close.

The deep conversations the two could have would be interesting. Because Auron is there listening while Boo is ranting how Alphonse and Seth should be with someone who didn't have blood on their hands.

It's funny how Auron could tell them it's okay but struggles with the same thing. Boo calls him a hypocrite but smiles fondly when Auron helps them with their confidence being with the boys.

If Auron does ever talk about how he isn't a good guy Boo simply says he did what he thought would fix things. Who cares if it made him look bad, Auron just sits there and sighs thinking maybe their right.

I think Auron would try and have a okay relationship with Alphonse and Seth. But the two are eh around him so the red head keeps his distance.

I can see Boo and Rook getting along pretty good and enjoying swapping stories of their lovers.

[vladdyissues]

something i noticed and wanted a second opinion on but there's something really interesting i noticed watching s1 again: vlad has all the power and control as a human, we've seen that established over and over again but

he's kinda. not got that as a ghost. he's powerful, sure. and he's got all kinds of artifacts he's been hunting down. but then you have Poindexter and Skulker calling Danny the halfa, or one of a kind, respectively, when Vlad's been operating for nearly 20 years. no other ghosts seem to acknowledge him if they can help it, no one talks to or about him if they can help it, DEFINITELY no one would come to his aid freely if he didn't pass the ball to some other ghost (such as DANNY, the kid in operation for maybe a year and a half by series' end). especially interesting because Skulker works for Vlad more than once, we know they know of each other, but it's Danny who's the worthy prey. there are ghosts that seem to do regular work for him but they all seem notably weak compared to the ones Danny usually fights

it just really sticks out to me that this dynamic could be totally reversed as ghosts and it feels like Vlad is constantly trying to make it so Danny doesn't notice

goblinhoursinsomniaramblings asked: addendum to ask now the sleep gremlins knocked me out for an hour or two: -what i meant by power and control was mainly soft power (fame/connections/fortune/accomplishments) which all have RADICALLY different definitions in the ghost zone, seems like -what i mean by constantly trying to keep him from noticing is: every time danny catches onto vlad, the insults to his human side tick up (bad grades, age difference, being related to Jack, etc). of particular note is Reign Storm, with his parting shot about chess feeling like bluster given everything Danny had just pulled off

Those are some really poignant observations. I think a lot of it, especially this,

but then you have Poindexter and Skulker calling Danny the halfa, or one of a kind, respectively, when Vlad's been operating for nearly 20 years

just boils down to slapdash writing and planning, and if not that, then a need for Danny to be as special and unique and MC as possible. Although it opens an avenue for a lot of really interesting headcanons about Vlad's initial transformation when he was in college—if it even happened then, which I don't think it did. It's not like he was immediately turned into a ghost in front of Jack and Maddie; he didn't even lose consciousness, as was the case with Danny.

Maybe his transformation was more gradual, especially seeing as he was blasted by a much smaller portal—but it also could have been much more powerful, concentrated emission—and only from the neck up*. Did he look like Plasmius from the get-go, or was the look something he had to build over the next twenty years? Or if his ghost half immediately took on the appearance of Plasmius, perhaps that would lead the rest of the ghosts in the Zone to believe he was fully ghost?

*I think this is where a lot of the "Danny is the One True Halfa because he received a full-body dose of radiation and Vlad is only partial ghost" fan theories come from.

Of all the humanoid spectral entities, Danny still appears the most mortal, at least in terms of a normal skin tone, so maybe that's another reason why he received the label of "halfa" while Plasmius was able to keep his status more ambiguous. Or at least only share it with his minions and mercs.

Pariah was pretty surprised.

his parting shot about chess feeling like bluster given everything Danny had just pulled off

Exactly. I think he was impressed by Danny—after all, he successfully copied Vlad's duplication technique for the first time (come on, he had to feel a little bit of pride; the boy he wanted to be his son copying his moves? Implementing them successfully? A chip off the old block. Vlad was smiling and smug for the rest of the episode). The little gloating jab he made as Danny passed out was as mild as they come. Danny's taken worse insults from his friends and family.

He's literally making this face ⁀▽⁀ like, come on.

[selkies-world]

Something something, Trump's vice saying that they need to execute people who don't support Trump, something something, Trump banning abortion & reproductive health care & birth control, something something, Trump saying Puerto Ricans just multiply and have lots of babies, something something, Trump being funded by Elon Musk, something something, Musk openly stating that the economy will suffer because Trump will give him free reign to have his Meta wetdream come true at the expense of the entire country, something something, Trump wanting to put transgender kids in "homes" away from affirming parents & wanting to have transgender adults "imprisoned" or put into "homes" or "camps", something something, Trump & Putin & Farage, something something, Trump & the big red button, something something, does nobody else remember Trump threatening Nuclear War with Russia & China & North (?) Korea over petty or racist things BEFORE RUSSIA THREATENED THE WORLD WITH NUCLEAR WW3 IF WE INTERVENE AND STOP RUSSIA INVADING UKRAINE, something something, Trump's supporters seeing him as the mesiah and saviour and King David and other god-like personas rather than a deeply flawed and power-hungry man with mental health issues who is not fit to run one of the biggest and most powerful and influential countries in the world, something something, leaving disabled and chronically ill people to die or suffer without medicare, something something, making it illegal to miscarry (& probably to have a stillbirth), something something, didn't somebody say it'd be okay under Trump to euthanize people who can't / won't contribute to the industrial capitalist society? Something something, Trump saying he wants the generals Hitler had, something something, the Nazi Euthanasia Programme (T4, I think?), something something, look in a history book and tell me what happened to the Jews & blacks in Germany when they were taken to centres & divided into those who could provide labour (& who were taken to concentration camps to becomes slaves and endure torture) and those who could not provide labour.

Look in a history book, and you will see that WW2 started in the 1930s, but there were signs of it coming on the 1920s. There was a build up, there was a gradual inclination towards it, and it was that inclination which put Hitler in power - before that inclination happened, he was the leader of a very unpopular party whom nobody paid much attention to. There were signs, there were bridges crossed, there were decisions made, there were votes won and there were more and more slippery steps to take before Germany announced war in the 1930s. And throughout all of that time, it was the minorities, those who would suffer the most just for existing, who felt the pressure first while the rest of society began to celebrate Hitler. It was these people who were growing uncomfortable with the fact regular education had been replaced by swastikas in schoolbooks, and with Hitler being featured in children's rhymes as a friendly father figure to guard over them all - and more so with the fact this was mandatory for every child to learn, and that teachers had two choices: teach children what Hitler wanted them to learn, or lose their jobs, in the best case scenario.

WW2 didn't just 'happen' in the 1930s; it was already being created in the 1920s.

We know this. We also know that we can match Trump's movements almost exactly to the steps taken by Hitler in the late 1920s & early 1930s. We know where this path leads, because we saw it before. We know where this path leads, because we have been down it before. We know where this path leads, because we were swept along by the current last time it happened.

It hasn't even been 100 years since WW2 began. It hasn't even been 100 years since the Holocaust; there are people who survived it who are still alive today.

It hasn't even been 100 years since the world went through what was perhaps the worst war in human history, to date.

Please do not make the world go through it all again. Because this time, there is different technology, different threats, and I promise you, it will not be the victory you want.

I know you're angry at the world. I know you're hurt, hurt to the point of being numb. I know you're tired and I know you're scared. I know you're scared of the unknown, which is why you might not be sure about voting for Kamala. Better the devil you know, and all that. But, America, I promise you, if you vote for Trump on Tuesday, you will damn your country, your people, and the rest of the world, to Hell. This election isn't happening in a vacuum - none of your elections have. Did you know that the UK celebrated when Obama legalised gay marriage? Did you know that multiple countries now celebrate 2 pride months, June and July, since Trump changed when the USA would celebrate it last time he was on power? Did you know that Scotland, Ireland and Wales study your civil war and your resistance and your wars of independence as intensely as we study the French revolution? Did you know that when JFK was assassinated, there were memorials and vigils held in multiple countries? Did you know that the global variation of English, AKA Globish, is more strongly influenced by US-English than British English, Australian English or Canadian English? Did you know that people who barely speak English can sing country songs word for word, with an American accent? Did you know that up until 2016, a lot of people in other countries saw the USA as the land where dreams come true - a whole country with the magic of Disneyland, where anyone can become anything, where the wildness is still free and where there are sights and sounds found nowhere else in the world? Did you know how influential you, your people and your country is to the rest of the world?

You're not voting in a vacuum, because the USA doesn't exist in a vacuum. I know you're scared - you know this election is important. I know you're hurt, because you haven't been listened to in the past, and Biden betrayed your trust, and you have no reason to vote blue this time around because you don't think Kamala will keep her word. I know you're reluctant to vote for her because she isn't openly stating that she will help Palestine; but the truth is that she and Biden have been trying to negotiate a ceasefire between Isreal and Palestine for a while now, while Trump has been in frequent communication with the leader of Isreal and has been encouraging the genocide to continue. This is what he does without the backing of your country behind him; what do you think he would do with the power of the Whitehouse backing him, when nobody can tell him no, when he will be seen by many as being above the law? Do you really believe that he'll save you, or anybody but himself, when push comes to shove?

Maybe Kamala isn't a Saint. Maybe her rule won't be perfect. Maybe it won't give you back the America you remember from your childhoods, and maybe she won't give us back the America we imagined your country to be. But she will save the planet from desolation, she will protect your people, she will protect your land, she will offer a chance for us to survive the climate crisis, and she will protect your sisters, daughters, wives, mothers, aunts and grandmothers.

If an 8 year old girl is raped by a neighbour, does she deserve to die in labour? Does she deserve to live with the changes forced on her body for the rest of her life, before it was ready? Does her mother deserve to watch her daughter go through that? Does her father deserve to watch his little angel suffer like that? Or does that little girl deserve a doctor who is allowed to save her life and what's left of her childhood?

Trump will condemn that little girl to death if she carries the baby to term and isn't provided the best medical care available. Trump will have that girl imprisoned if she has a stillbirth or miscarries. Trump will have that girl and her family imprisoned if she tries to have it aborted. Trump will condemn that girl for the rest of her life, due to something she had no control over and did not want or deserve. And he will say it's alright, maybe even good, that she suffered like that, because it's what she deserved. He will make up lies about her and her mother and her father. He will make them all into monsters for the rest of your people to hate, condemn and mock.

Kamala will save that little girl's life. Kamala will give that mother her little girl back, safe and healthy. Kamala will give that father his little angel back for him to protect.

Please, America. Please vote blue on Tuesday. Please vote for Kamala. Please vote for Harris. Please. Please, please, please.

Voting BLUE doesn't mean that you're saying "I agree with everything Kamala says, and I think she is a Saint, and I think she's going to save the world, and I think her plans are perfect."

That isn't what you're saying, if it isn't how you feel.

Voting BLUE means that you're saying "I disagree with Trump, and I don't want to turn the USA into the West's Russia, and I don't want to lose everything I know to the third world war, and I don't want to subject the USA to another civil war," because I promise you, that is what he will do if he gets your vote.

[ishikawayukis]

was talking to my mom about how the adoption process worked when they adopted my brother and man some people truly are just scum

[seat-safety-switch]

When we were kids, we didn't have access to cool power tools. Every summer, when the soapbox derby race was coming, we'd break into my neighbour's garage while he was at work. Then, we'd use his drill press, lathe, table saw, all the fun tools. Over the course of a week, a race car was produced, which is more than the workshop ever made during the rest of the year.

Sure, we could have asked him if we could have borrowed his tools, but no doubt he would want to be there to supervise. And then he'd want to help. We'd never get done while we were busy indulging the suburb-tinged fantasies of someone who didn't take wood shop and chose instead to idly worship at the altar of Television Presents: The Fantasy of Bob Vila in adulthood.

One year, Old Man Garrett got a security system. Probably this was because Ted (fucking Ted) didn't clean up the sawdust that one time like we asked him to. The old man must have seen the footprint, and realized that he did not wear size-seven Nikes. Child thieves, casing his precious table saw! Now, our humble breaking-and-entering had become significantly more difficult than "reach a coat hanger under the door and pull the emergency release."

With the help of some of the high-school kids who were taking electronics class, we managed to defeat the security system. We did so using an ancient Japanese technique known as "distract Old Man Garrett while he's setting it, and then cut the wires to the panel." I think it loses something in translation, but you get the gist of it. That year's car was especially sweet.

In adulthood, I got drunk and bragged to some work buddies about our little scam. They responded in abject horror, because I was still occupying the weird hump in the middle of a normal distribution of "acceptable crimes." It was terrifying to them to see one of their own, one of the suburbanites, speak openly about largely-harmless property crimes. What if we had been hurt, they shrieked. Around the water cooler, I would become a pariah, unless I could make amends.

I did hunt down Old Man Garrett after that, still feeling the sting of rejection. He was still on the property, and he still had a beautiful collection of immaculate cabinet-making tools in the garage. I rang his doorbell and, when he answered, I told him the whole story. He laughed.

"I knew it was you dumb shits from the beginning," he bragged. "Fucking Ted -"

"Fucking Ted," I echoed, unconsciously.

"Fucking Ted left his library book on building race cars behind on the workbench that first year. You didn't let him drive, did you?"

I shook my head. "We ran the car into him if the hockey-stick brakes ever failed."

We had a good laugh about the whole thing that evening, and I returned to work with my soul cleansed. It's just a pity Ted didn't know how bad he actually was at crime, before he tried to knock over that liquor store and all.

[mecachrome]

notes from nicole piastri's interview on red flags pod

oscar started playing monopoly and chess when he was 4-5 but he was too good at chess (relative to nicole) that she boycotted it

nicole opened her twitter account because oscar wasn't replying to her at boarding school and she needed a place to chastise him ("can you not answer... i KNOW you're on your phone") (it worked because he started replying to her there)

instead of unflappable she calls him "conservative"

even during christmas and birthdays he was never super excited, one time they went with a group of 5 mums and 5 kids to a hi-5 concert (popular australian kids' musical group) and while all the kids were "going nuts" oscar just sat there "focused the whole time" and didn't smile or move lmfao. they were like 3 years old

didn't know what she was doing with oscar as a baby because he was her first child and her mothers' group was her only reference and they went "isn't the best part of the day when you wake up and go to their crib and they smile at you?" and she was like ??? because oscar would wake up and just SCREAM every single day needing to be out of there immediately and she thought that was just normal... then she had the girls and went "ahhhh... so that's what they're talking about"

when he was younger than 2 he needed them to read car magazines to him and was already obsessed with all things automotive and while they were driving would just name off and point out car brands by their badges

for a long period of time he behaved like he was a car and would "spin" his wheels and pretend to accelerate and run like a car lol

did a big burnout the first time he was on a bike (it had training wheels but he still learned very early)

as a mum she wishes he'd chosen golf or tennis since it's much safer than f1 and sometimes people tell her that she technically had a say in that when he was a kid and she said "but i didn't! it was just in him!!!"

won an academic award when he was 13 and she was president of the parents' community so she presented it to him, normally these events are super formal and you simply shake hands but she gave him a big kiss and instead of acting embarrassed or spluttering he looked at the crowd, nodded silently, and walked off

came back for the summer a few years ago and they were biking on the beach together when she had to brake hard to avoid a kid and went over, when she recovered and got back on he went "are you all right?" very deadpan but after they got home they checked his heart rate monitor and saw that he was totally steady the whole time except for when she crashed and his heart rate went through the roof, told him "ah so you do have a heart... we just don't see it"

"there's no sibling that can piss him off?" "well he's a boy with three girls so he just doesn't go there because he's never going to win"

met lily in person for the first time when he came home for the melbourne grand prix (was still alpine reserve), at midnight oscar was like "hey mum you know the dts film crew are coming tomorrow morning right?" and she was like WHAT... and he was like yeah it'll be chill they just want to film us having breakfast like a normal family or whatever and she was like Mate you haven't lived here for 5 years now do you know what breakfast looks like. it looks like your sisters storming downstairs and grabbing an inappropriate breakfast and storming out the door giving me the finger!!! and then the next morning lily comes down and nicole is like "oh is oscar up?" and lily is like no... i think he's still in bed... (many such cases) and then mae refused to be in it so she got dressed and ran off to school 2 hours early to escape them. and then the mclaren fiasco happened and the whole thing got cut out of dts anyway

when she said "oh my god you met matt damon!" he was just like (shrugs) "yeah... yeah..."

they communicate by facetiming and he's Always lying in bed. one time in bahrain he was leaning back on an ornate tapestry and she asked what hotel he was staying at and he was like oh i'm at the royal palace i'm like a guest of the crown prince. she freaked out and was like "oh my god!!! get your head off the tapestry!!!" and he just looked back like ? no it's fine it looks pretty old lol

called her to tell her that he signed his f1 contract and when he said mclaren she Realized and was like oh no i love daniel!! and he straight up deadpanned "yeah everyone loves daniel. that's going to be a problem..." and said verbatim "of all the f1 drivers ever daniel is the worst one to be replacing"

one time in f4 chris couldn't go to a race and billy monger had just had his crash so she flew to the uk for the weekend to support him and when she was driving him back to boarding school she was happy because she had 2 hours to spend with him and she wasn't sure when she'd see him again but instead he slept the whole way through and the moment they got back to school he went "ahhhh... home sweet home" and she wanted to slap him lmfao

first day of primary school when he was 5 years old he said he didn't need her to walk him to school and she was like "well i actually do mate" so he forced her to walk behind him the whole way and the moment they got there he turned to her and went "all right i'm here you can go now" 😭

the chinese & italian & yugoslavian is on chris's side of the family while nicole's is scottish & irish ("that's where the pasty skin comes from")

red flags pod sent her a shirt with oscar's face composed of His Tweet and she showed it to him and he immediately said he wanted it

he gave her a small warning before he posted the tweet but it was just like "mum so this is going to happen just don't worry about it. it's all under control. it'll be fine" and was very calm the whole time

"we just had to trust that his personality would come through at some point, because the way he came across was not at all what he's like. people will work out who the real you is so just continue to do what you do" 🥺

all of the kids were obsessed with Cars (2006)

likes his mum's golden syrup dumplings and grandmother's rumballs

AT THE SINGAPORE GP IN 2023 HATTIE DISAPPEARED FOR HOURS TO GO SEE A K-POP CONCERT 😭😭😭😭 i think it was p1h lmfao (nicole was asked for her favorite group and went "i have no idea. five boys") ((it's txt)) meanwhile oscar is only into house music and she thinks everything he plays is the same song

did pilates when he went home but never with her and thinks it's a lot harder than it looks

takes him minimum 24 hours to respond to anything she sends

she had an exact conversation with oscar where she asked who he wanted to be teammates with and he said "well if i go up against lando i don't even have to get close the first year because everyone knows how good he is" 😭

oscar you are so you 🧡

[nightingale-prompts]

Danny Has Bat-wings

Part 2

Clockwork would regret the day he taught Danny shapeshifting. The ancient time ghost thought it was wise to educate the prince/apprentice to change his appearance at will to better blend in when he traveled across universes.

Add that to the fact Clockwork has been very lenient with the prince and let him cross as amny universes as he desired.

Danny had learned how to make small alterations so far. He started by making himself taller than clockwork but after struggling to cope with low ceilings he stopped. He resorted to using tails and ears of many kinds. He usually took the time to study any animals he wanted to copy and use their traits after figuring out how they worked. He is still years away from a full transformation as this mentor said but he was determined to master at least one.

Danny's greatest discovery so far are wings. He made a full set of wings, bones and all. Although he hasn't figured out feathers (look they are more complex than patches of fur!) so he has bat wings.

Danny was more than proud to show them off to clockwork, practically bouncing off the walls as he darted back and forth.

"Very good Daniel." Clockwork said putting a hand on Danny's head and stopping the boy from moving. "Perhaps you can focus on learning to use your extra limbs now.."

Danny rolled his eyes. He already knew how to fly. He was literally doing it now. Is it really that hard to flap your wings?

Danny took it back, flying is hard.

He had found the rooftops of Bludhaven a good place to practice. Danny understood now why birds pushed their chicks out of the nest as he had to jump off roofs to get enough air to fly. Well, he wasn't flying, yet it was more flapping wildly until he could soften his landing.

Bat wings aren't really made to sit on your back comfortably so Danny had to wrap his wings around his body like a weighted blanket.

Danny learned quickly that dropping down alleyways and having his wings covering him caused people to panic and run. He didn't even get a chance to say sorry. Other times they attacked him calling him "The Bat" or "Batman", which is first off rude, and second, they could have at least called him a vampire or something.

News traveled quickly in Bludhaven right to Detective Grayson that Batman was in town. Which was weird because Bruce should be on a case right now. So it was Nightwing's job to see what was going on.

This "Batman" was clearly not Bruce. Any Gothemite worth their salt could tell that but the people of Bludhaven aren't familiar enough with bats. Speaking of bats, the "Batman" was more of a bat boy. Had ManBat had a kid, probably not.

The kid darted around and jumped from roof to roof with ease. After a few hours of practice, he'd wrap his wings around him and take a quick nap.

Usually, Bruce would demand a file be made on the kid and give him the 3rd degree on why he's here but this was Nightwing's territory. And he thought the kid was harmless if not a bit goofy.

Dick decided to stay quiet on this and letting Bludhaven have its own little Bat Boy. What's more entertaining to watch the kid learn to fly and failing when he tried to land.

[gghostwriter]

You’re the Risk, I’ll Take it

Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader

Summary: The three times Spencer followed advice and the one time he didn't (or as I'd like to better explain it, the three times Spencer fails to flirt and the one time it worked)

Warning: fluff! Just fluff!

A/n: I wanted to write something cute this time with Season 1 Spencer in mind--one of the best eras if you ask me. Hopefully I did him justice in this. The idea of this cute baby boy trying to flirt is too precious honestly. Also, if a guy did the last act for me, I'd fold like a lawn chair, yep. Risk by Gracie Abrams was on repeat while I was writing this and no proof reading was done. Let me know what you think!

Main masterlist

The first move Spencer tried was advised by Derek Morgan, the renowned ladies man

“Kid, admit it. You like her,” Morgan pestered him with a slight smile on his face. 

Spencer scoffed, trying to throw him off from the truth but monumentally failing. “S-she’s my closest friend. We joined the team at the same time, of course I feel most comfortable with her,” he noted his companion’s eyebrows raising higher and higher with each word. “Plus, she likes hearing what I say even if it has no relation to the case. She asks me questions and genuinely remembers.”

Now it was Morgan’s turn to scoff. “You could be talking about Star Trek and it’s physics mistakes and she’ll still hang on to every word you say.” 

“Actually, there aren’t that many scientific errors in Star Trek. Especially considering—”

“Reid.” 

“Right,” he nodded once, trying to push away the urge to continue further. “That still doesn’t mean I like her.” 

Morgan tapped the wheel twice before turning to face his partner. “Then answer me this. How do you feel when she walks through the office doors?” 

“Happy, I get the same feeling when I see you or Elle come in too,” he found his fingers very interesting then. Like they held the key to unlocking the mysteries of Dark Matter and the answer to the controversial scientific theory ‘Do parallel universe exist?’. He wasn’t telling the whole truth—didn’t want to because how could he, a man of science, explain the other bodily reactions he has when you walk in a room. How he hears his heart stutter in his chest with just a glimpse of you—the first time it happened, he thought nothing of it, but by the third, he considered making an appointment with a specialist for possible heart arrhythmia. How he sees the room brighten when you smile in his direction—perhaps light sensitivity, and how he feels his body heat up when you utter the words ‘Good morning, Spence.’—possibly hot flashes. Self diagnosis that he ruled out once he found you to be the common denominator. That left him with a riddle, a personal conundrum he lost countless of sleep over trying to solve.

“That’s a lie, Reid. You can’t be that happy to see me. You never blush like a tomato when I enter the room. For Greenaway, I could see it but for me, nu-uh,” he argued back. “Okay, what about when she’s not there, what do you feel then?” 

“Sad, similar to how I’d react with you and Elle,” he blurted out another half truth. Another surface level answer that doesn’t fully cover how lost he feels without your comforting presence beside him, how gloomy any room he enters in without you in it, and how incomplete his days were without hearing your voice. 

Morgan snickered. “Lies, you have to learn how to lie better to fool an FBI profiler, Reid. You don’t think I—the team, notice that you’re quieter when she isn’t on the case with us?”

“Wait. Wait, the whole team?” His voice goes up an octave. You were part of the team, did that mean you knew of the effect you had on him too? “D-Does everyone have the same idea as you do? Everyone?” 

“Not everyone, kid. Your secret is still safe,” He smiled wide like a cat that caught the canary. “So it’s true then, you like her.” 

Spencer knew there was no escape from trap, he was just glad that his secret still remained classified from the other party involved. His shoulders sagged as he nodded to confirm Morgan’s findings.

“So what’s your play then?”

His head whipped to face his companion so fast he felt his meticulously styled hair escape the confines of his ears. “Play? There’s no play. Nothing. I’m not going to do anything and this conversation stays between us.” 

“Oh c’mon lover boy, you have to do something,” Morgan challenged. “Y’know she likes you back, right?” 

“No she doesn’t! I mean, why would she?” Spencer rambled on, unable to comprehend what Morgan was saying. “She’s her—beautiful, smart, and cool. Every case we get, there’s at least one police officer hitting on her. And I’m me—I talk too much and get awkward in every situation. The exact opposite!”

“Reid, don’t sell yourself short. She likes you, trust me on this.” He paused, listening to the update on the intercom before continuing on. “So here’s what you’re going to do. Compliment her outfit, girls appreciate that. Easy enough, don’t you think?”

Spencer really didn’t think so after all he had the tendency to go off on a tangent whenever he talks to you but he agrees nonetheless. If Morgan believes he could do it then he couldn’t mess it up, right?

———

Wrong. It was wrong to take Morgan’s advice. Never mind he can recall everything he has ever read, never mind he has an IQ of 187. What good were his talents if he, Dr. Spencer Reid, couldn’t string the proper sentences along?

It started when you walked into the office wearing this light yellow blouse that made you more radiant than he thought possible. It was as if the a ray of sun had graced the bullpen and stunned his mind into silence, rendering him tongue-tied. All his monologues and hypothesis bouncing around his overactive brain fell away and the only thing he could think of was how pretty you look.

Morgan cleared his throat, bringing him back to the living. Spencer averted his awestruck gaze and busied himself with an imaginary lint on his red sweater. 

“Hey Y/N, did anything good this weekend?” Morgan asked as you settled into your desk adjacent to his.

You shrugged nonchalantly and teased back. “I bet it wasn’t good as yours, Morgan. Picked anyone up last Friday or are your charms no longer working?”

“Huh, i see where this is going. Somebody woke up on the wrong side of bed today.”

Morgan chanced a peek at Spencer and internally groaned. How you didn’t notice the kid’s crush on you was beyond him—all the staring and blushing he does when you’re near was a dead giveaway.

“Reid. Reid,” Morgan called out.

He closed his mouth and gulped. “Hm, what?” 

Morgan pointedly stared at him and titled his head towards your direction. A movement lost to you as you noted Elle leaving Gideon’s office.

Spencer opened his mouth to catch your attention but before he could even utter your name, Elle intervened. “Question for you, the foot path killer. Why’d he stutter?”

You swiveled to face her, not having caught Spencer’s intent to speak to you. The unit chief then called them in for a case—an arson case in a university campus. His shoulders drooped as they rushed to the jet afterwards with no chance of small talk. 

When there was a lull in the plane—case discussion finished, he steeled his already apprehensive nerves and took the chance, quickly wishing he hadn’t.

“S-so, your shirt’s yellow,” he stated out loud like it was some sort of revelation. 

“Yes,” you drawled out, unsure as to where he was going with this. “That’s right, Spencer.”

He drummed his fingers on the table and continued on. “Did you know that airplanes tend to avoid the color yellow as it causes dizziness and nausea? A number of studies have shown those exact results and that’s why it’s almost never used in interiors of various forms of transportation and rarely use in advertising. It’s like how the red is the most common color used by restaurants as it psychologically makes the viewer hungry.”

You looked down on your top. Yellow was one of your favorites and you specifically chose this as Penelope said and you quote, it looks good on you, brings out your eyes. Boy genius would probably react to it too so naively you splurged on it. But this—this wasn’t the response you were hoping for. “Spence, are you saying my shirt is making you feel nauseous?”

He blushed and stammered out a strong refusal. “What, no! No! I—I meant to say—you, you look nice.”

You giggled under your breath, finding his long-winded route to giving you a compliment cute. “Nice nice or airsickness nice?” 

“Nice! Just nice!” He defended on, his voice cracking at the end. He caught Morgan’s wide eyed gaze then as if he couldn’t believe what train wreck he just witnessed. 

Cheeks heating up further, Spencer slouched in his seat and busied himself with the files wishing that he could build a memory eraser so he could wipe the events from his and the team’s minds or better yet, a time machine to redo the whole thing all over again.

The second move Spencer tried was advised by Elle Greenaway, the new recruit

“Do you think it’s weird that I knew that ballad?” He questioned during one of their cases in San Diego. It bothered him since the start of the case. How Morgan had teased him about his incapability of asking out the opposite sex. Never mind that you defended him right back, that’s a lie, it made him feel special that you did but the joke was still true. A cold stone truth. 

Elle laughed, flipping her phone repeatedly on the table while waiting for the unsub to take the bait. “I don’t know how you know half the stuff you know, but I’m glad you do.”

“Do you think that’s why I can’t get a date?” He asked as he fiddled with the unfinished Rubik’s cube in his hands.

“Have you ever asked her out?”

There was no need to ask who Elle was referring to, everyone knew of his innocent—well maybe not so innocent at times specifically during his state of dreaming—crush for the second youngest member of the team. He shifted his eyes to focus a few tables before his—at you, sitting beside JJ. “No."

“That’s why you can’t get a date.” 

One of the precincts phone then rang, it was the unsub, causing him to table that conversation in his vast memory. 

———

There’s an English saying that states ‘the second time is the charm’ and Spencer was hoping there were some truth to the idiom even with no scientific explanation to back it up. 

A few cases after San Diego, he got an opening that he was unexpectedly looking for. The team was on their way back from a case in Virginia. It was late and the profilers were all tucked in their little corners of the jet decompressing while you and Spencer were huddled on the sofa quietly discussing Doctor Who. 

“How could you say your favorite is the Ninth Doctor when you haven’t even seen the older episodes?” He rambled, clearly he would have to do something about your limited knowledge in the great universe of Doctor Who. He’d like to explain it all, 695 episodes of the classic era to you. He’d take any topic really just to have your interest.

You stared into his hazel speckled eyes and smiled, amused by his reaction. “It’s a bit hard to catch up on a show that’s been around since the 70s. Plus, it’s a challenge to look for copies.” 

“Actually, the show started in the 60s—1963, to be exact,” he clarified. “Garcia has copies we could borrow and watch together. If that’s—” he cleared his throat and clenched his fists closed, feeling his nails dig into his palms. “—that’s alright with you. If—if not, there’s a convention happening this weekend. I have an extra ticket, if you want to come with—only if you’re not busy, I mean.”

“And risk you spoiling every episode to me? I’d rather watch it alone, if you don’t mind.”

That dragged his optimism to a crash as if a twenty ton weight landed on his chest, rendering him immovable. Of course you were going to say no. There was no proof that you’d reciprocate his interests—he inwardly cursed himself for believing otherwise.

“But, I’d like to go with you to the convention,” you said and silently added as your date to yourself, shifting in your seat with a blush blooming on your cheeks at the thought. “Always wanted to go to one. If you’re fine with me not being in a costume. I think it’ll be too late to find one, don’t you think?”

Just like that, the weight on his chest lifted, making him feel weightless with glee. A wide smile grew on his face, threatening to burst his cheeks as he shook his head. “That’s alright! But you—you can always dress up as Rose!”

You titled your head to the side. “Rose?” 

“You know, the Ninth Doctor’s companion?”

“I know who she is, Spence. I just thought you didn’t watch the revived series?”

He softly scoffed. “I never said that! I watched it too, mainly to compare it to the classics but I’ve seen it.”

You leaned in, wanting to ask about his opinion on it. “Well, what do you think? I happen to be part of the minority who think the actor who reprised the role did alright.”

He liked seeing you like this. It made him feel like a puppy who had his owner’s undivided attention. All wide eyed and interested in his conjectures as to why the actor was alright himself but the problems were his short stint—making people vilify him over that decision—and the material some of the writers came up with. He appreciated you nodding along and supplying your own thoughts on the subject. It warmed his heart that here was a beautiful, smart, and cool person—way out of his league, he might add—giving her precious time away to discuss a nerdy sci-fi show that he could not rant and rave to about to anyone on the team, except for Penelope, and she’s rarely on the field with them. 

Your show of interest made him feel seen. Not as an agent with 3 PHDs, not as a genius with 187 IQ, but rather as a person with a right to express himself and occupy space. He wasn’t Agent Spencer Reid with you nor Dr. Spencer Reid, he was just Spencer who likes to watch Doctor Who and read literature in their original language. 

The third move Spencer did was proposed by Penelope Garcia, the spirited tech analyst 

“What do you mean you took her to a convention? For a date?” Penelope squeaked out, unable to comprehend the logic behind the genius’ actions.

“She said she always wanted to go,” Spencer stated as the elevator stopped on the fourth floor. He had fun over the weekend. Going around booths with you, listening to invited guest panels talk about the behind the scenes, explaining the reference every costume that you’ve pointed out, and just basking in your presence beyond cases. It was a memory he had replayed over and over after it had ended. It occupied his whole mind, and that’s saying a lot, causing him to do nothing and sit in his leather sofa and smile like a lunatic during the rest of the weekend.

“Well yeah, but that’s not date material! A date is supposed to be intimate—you and I go to conventions together, do you count that as a date?” 

“What? No! No, of course not!” 

“Exactly, boy wonder. Then what makes you think she’ll count that as a date?” She countered back as she entered her office with Spencer in tow. 

Silence. Oh.

Penelope sighed, having read the despair painting his face. “Did you at least dress up as the Ninth Doctor?”

“What? No. No, I went as the Fourth Doctor. I even hand-knitted the scarf myself.”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before repeating what she just heard. “You didn’t dress up as her Doctor?”

“No,” he paused, unsure where she was going with this. “Should I had?”

“Yes! Yes, you should have!” Penelope slapped his arm out of frustration. “Why didn’t you call me once she said yes? We could have talked game plan or strategy or at least have gotten you a leather jacket to match her choice of companion.”

“Oh, I messed up then, didn’t I?” He slumped despondently on the office chair. “You—you don’t think she thought of it as a date at all?”

She played with her feathered pen, trying to find a way to salvage it for Spencer. “Did you take her out to dinner after?”

He shook his head, finally realizing his mistake.

“Oh Spencer,” she approached gently. “I can scoop for details with Y/N later on and report back to you?”

He shook his head. It didn’t feel right to have Penelope betray your trust and go behind your back over a mistake that he made. You were a honest person and you deserved to be treated with respect and reverence even though all he wanted now was peer into your viewpoint of the date—not date—and figure out once and for all if you saw him as anything beyond a co-worker and a friend. 

“Hm, I think I might just a solution,” Penelope blurted out of the blue. 

He looked up with a sliver of hope blooming in his chest. Maybe third time’s the charm. Besides, Penelope was the colleague you spent most of your time out with. You once mentioned that you considered her your best friend, besides from him of course. 

“You can bake her a batch of cookies! No one can say no to that,” she excitedly explained, believing it to be full proof—except for the fact that he doesn’t know how to bake. He wants to ask you out on a date but not to the expense of burning his whole apartment building down. 

“I can’t—I can’t bake, Garcia,” he squeaked out. “Did you know that 44% of all reported home fires are caused by cooking and baking. Those fires have resulted in an average of 470 civilian deaths and 4,150 civilian—”

She interrupted. “I’ll give you my recipe and detailed instructions to follow. That’ll make it easy peasy for you, boy genius.”

“C-can’t I just buy from her favorite bakery instead?”

“No can do, Doctor. Her favorite cookies just so happen to be my creation. She told me so herself.”

“Well, can’t I just ask you to make it for me? I’ll buy the ingredients!”

“Nope,” she dragged out her refusal. “Think of it as an act of service to her. Plus don’t you think it’s highly romantic when she finds out that you baked them yourself?” She swooned just thinking about it.

“Romantic? It won’t be romantic when I burn my apartment down, Garcia.”

She sighed. “Fine, I’ll supervise if you want. This weekend, granted if we’re free. But you—” she pointed her feathered pen at him. “—better be prepared and I’m just supervising, okay? I’m not baking it myself.”

He sighed. At least having Garcia around would make it easier.

———-

It did not in fact make it easier. Spencer burnt two batches before six pieces were considered edible. Garcia couldn’t understand, hell, he also couldn’t. Baking was precise and from his scientific viewpoint, it was a lot like chemistry. He loved science and anything academic, so how is it that he failed miserably, twice, when it came to baking? 

He shook his head as he entered the office. The first one—he stole a glance at Hotch’s office and saw movement—correction, the second one arriving early. Sometimes he wondered if the unit chief ever goes home, first in and last out.

He settled in his seat before promptly fidgeting from anticipation. Statistically speaking, you arrive earlier than Morgan or Elle which gave him enough time to gift the paper bag of cookies sitting hidden in his satchel without bringing attention to and embarrassing himself. He’d like to have little to no audience if he ever does mess it up for the third time. 

He brought out the cookies, afraid they’ll get crushed between his hardbound books, and placed them on your desk before standing to wash his clammy hands and make coffee. Counter intuitive of him to do as he was already a bundle of nerves and by drinking caffeine he was doubling that but maybe the smell would calm him before shooting up his energy by drinking.

As he exited the mens room, Penelope stepped out of the elevator and squealed. “Is she here? Is she? Did I miss it?”

He shook his head vigorously, trying to silence her excited glees. “No, she’s not here yet. She’ll—” he looked at his watch and ran the numbers. “—be here soon. I’m about to brew coffee. Do you want some?” He opened the door for both of them to enter the bullpen.

“Ick, no thanks,” Penelope said, scrunching her nose at the thought of drinking even a sip before scurrying away to her cave. “I’d rather not ruin my taste buds on bad coffee.”

He laughed and turned towards the kitchenette. With the coffee brewing, he drummed his fingers on the counter and mentally rehearsed what he would say to you. If he practiced, there’s less chance of messing it up like the first time, right? In his state of concentration, he missed you entering the office in all of your beautiful glory.

“Ooh cookies!” you exclaimed as you opened the unknown package on your table.

Spencer abruptly turned, hitting his side on the corners as he did. His eyes widened as he registered you holding the unsigned paper bag of treats on your desk. 

“They must be from Penny,” You continued on, oblivious to his presence and the devastation your remark caused him. Of course, he’d find another way to mess it up. You glanced around and your smile widened as you took in his handsome presence. “Oh hey Spence! Look, Penny made me cookies!” You tip-toed out of excitement. 

He smiled at your enthusiasm for something as simple as treats in the morning. The giggle you gave out as you entered the kitchenette was enough for him to slightly care less for the truth. He loved bringing out the happiness in you. It was like his own personal sunshine shining down on him, soaking him with vitamin D and boosting his overall sense of wellbeing. “Do you want coffee with that? It’s still hot,” he offered. 

You tapped the side of your hips with his as a sign of good will. “Thanks, Spence! This is turning out to be a great day, don’t you think?”

He watched as you busied yourself with putting cream and sugar in your of cup and sighed wistfully. “I think so too.”

And the last move Spencer did was recommended by no one but himself, the awkward 187 genius

With all three acts not delivering, he promised to try one last time without any outside interference besides from yours in his memory. You always did tell him to be himself in any situation, no matter how much he stumbled through any awkward situation—always there giving him a pat on the back for encouragement. 

Over the weekend, he spent his time reading two of your favorite books—which didn’t take much but he did read them again and again, regardless of his eidetic memory, trying to understand why these specific books were your comfort. Always pushed within the confines of your go bag, dog-eared and brown from age. He wanted to know how they’ve become an extension of you and how it had shaped you to the woman he has fallen in love with. 

He found himself hunched over his dining table, underlining sentences that made him think of you, scribbling away on the margins (and sometimes on post its too), and tabbing the written pages with a variety of colors that each represent an emotion. The act in it of itself made him feel closer to you than he thought possible. Lines in the books that made him think, ah so this was what formed your kind spirit. This is why your empathy knew no bounds. And this is why your beauty is inside and out.  

Spencer laid down to rest, anxious for the next day, Monday, to come. His heart threatening to beat out of his chest but his mind oddly calm as if it had a precognition that everything would turn out just right.

———

You arrived earlier than he did, throwing him off balance. 

“Hey Spence!” You greeted with a smile. “I got you a croissant and some coffee from that shop near my place.”

He blushed and stammered out a thank you. You were wearing a deep purple blouse that matched the scarf around his neck—the birthday gift you’ve given. He was no believer of the mystics but he took all of these as a sign from the stars. There was no way he would mess this up now.

“I—I got you something too,” he looked inside his satchel, hands shaking from it all. Gods, he wished this would go well or else, he might just die from embarrassment. “It’s nothing much but—I read your two favorite books and just—I wanted to discuss it with you,” he brought out the tabbed copies and presented them to you. “These are for you. I know you have copies of your own but I-I put my own notes on which lines reminded me of you.”

Your face turned red at the notion behind it all. Here was the BAU genius, the certified lover of the classics and the academia, the man who had your affections since day one, reading two contemporary literatures just for him to present you a gift like no other. You reached out and hugged the precious copies to your chest. 

“Thank you, no one’s ever done this for me before,” you breathed out, falling deeper into attraction with the perfection in front of you. “ Hey Spence, I may sound delusional asking this and you can say no if you want to but—” you visibly gulped, unaware of the audience nearby. “—would you like to have dinner with me? I make a mean lasagna.”

He turned red and vigorously nodded. “Y-Yes. Yes, I’d love to have dinner with you.”

You giggled, sounding like wind chimes to his ears. He did too, giggle I mean, from the triumph of finally knowing that his feelings were willingly reciprocated.

“Finally, you love birds!” Morgan shouted as he swung his arm around Spencer. “Didn’t know how much we could take from this pretty boy—” pointing at him “asking for advice and you—” pointing at you “—pretty girl is as dense as a rock. Tell me again how’d you end up as profiler with those observation skills.” 

A hand whacked him at the back. “Way to ruin the moment, Morgan.” Elle chided before turning to Spencer with a smile. “See told you, you could get a date.”

[no-144444]

the grid: No Nut November!

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Featuring: Oscar Piastri, Lando Norris, Lewis Hamilton, George Russell, Alex Albon, Franco Colapinto, Logan Sargeant, Daniel Riccardo, Liam Lawson, Charles LeClerc, Max Verstappen, Paul Aron, Arthur LeClerc.

thank you to the person that requested this!!!

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Oscar Piastri: wouldn’t do it. 

Even if every driver on the grid was offering 1,000€ each as a prize, he was not giving up fucking you for an entire month. 

Even though he looks like a sweetie pie he would absolutely be a freak in the sheets and he was not about to give up the only way he actually gets his frustration out (aka fucking you). 

Everyone kind of boos him for it but then half way through the month he gets to be smug while they’re all miserable and complaining, because he can fuck his girlfriend whenever he wants. 

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Lando Norris: would try, but definitely fail. 

He wouldn’t care about the prize, he’d just have such a ‘how hard can it be?’ attitude. 

Newsflash: extremely. 

You would not make it easy for him either; wearing the sluttiest clothes, basically giving him fuck me eyes all the time, enjoying it when you see him get hot and bothered. 

He snaps on his birthday, and fucks you for hours straight. You can barely walk the next day. 

He decides to own up and pay his part of the bet with no shame, he has a hot girlfriend and he likes fucking her, sue him! 

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Lewis Hamilton: wouldn’t even try

He’s uninterested in the things most of the grid do in their spare time, and he knows they’re uninterested in him too. They don't need to know about his sex life, but what people can guess is that it is very much alive. 

I mean… you two had a baby literally 8 months after your wedding, to the day. 

The other 3 kids don't exactly help his case… 

He’d say yes, just so he could be added to the group chat and he would tell you who is winning and losing.

He’d lose on the first day with no shame. Everyone knows he's just here for the public shaming of others. 

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George Russell: would win

Not saying he’s not a freak in the sheets, but he would set up the entire thing (group chat, the money pool, etc.) and he cannot be seen lacking. 

Even if it wasn’t his idea, he still needed to win. 

You do make the entire month absolute torture though. 

Matching sets, showing as much skin as possible, everything. 

Even walking around the apartment naked. 

But somehow, he doesn’t budge. 

At the end of the month he does fuck you for ages, and you literally cant get out of bed, let alone follow him to a race. He tells the media you’re sick and all of the drivers have the dirtiest laughs as he explains. Despite every question, they keep their mouths shut. 

George did announce that he won at the end, much to your chagrin. 

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Alex Albon: he’d last a while

 He would honestly be pretty good. 

He kind of breaks the rules, he constantly gives you oral and jerking himself off, but it wasn’t specifically stated in the rules (apart from the name… but whatever)

He makes it like halfway through the month until a particularly bad race result. 

He fucks you all night. 

When you both get to the paddock in the morning, George pays him a visit to collect the money like the smug bastard he is. 

He heard you two last night. 

He was 4 doors down. 

Oops. 

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Franco Colapinto: he’s the one who accidentally tells the press. 

We all know Franco is awful at keeping his mouth shut, and in an interview he somehow lets it slip that he needed to find George to give him money. 

They ask him what for. 

He says ‘the bet’ and explains that they’re doing NNN this year and that he lost. 

It was worth it though, you two hadn’t seen each other in months (you were busy in uni, he was busy at races) and he just had to have you. 

He made it like a quarter of the way into the month. 

He didn't really care. 

The drivers honestly just found it funny that he told the media. 

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Logan Sargeant: would make it most of the way, but just fall short by like 4 days.

He had done so well, ignoring all of your sexual advances for the majority of the month…

Then he got drunk. 

Drunk Logan and drunk you? Yeah, you’re fucking. 

He couldn’t keep his hands off you, and he paid the price. 

He paid up sheepishly the next day, George looked at him with the smuggest smile ever. 

Logan didn’t even care. He fucked you twice as much as before. 

He has to make up for lost time, right? 

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Daniel Riccardo: he would lose immediately.

This man is a 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓀 

He would kind of do the same thing as Lewis, pay to just watch the rest of them loose. 

He does last a little bit longer though (in their eyes).

 He doesn’t pay up until the second week even though he’s been fucking you the entire time. 

He has absolutely no shame about it either. 

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Liam Lawson: he would almost win.

He's such a cutie. I think he’d somehow abstain for a while. 

He’d get to around the 26th, and then give up. 

The month was torture though. 

You literally would beg him every night, and he would just have to say no. 

You were impressed at how long he lasted. 

But then he gave in after he scored points in mexico...

Yuki ratted him out to George, he was very embarrassed.

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Charles LeClerc: he would lose immediately.

Charles is an idiot. 

He would lose the first day by accident, and then try to pretend that it doesn't count until George actually comes knocking on his drivers room door looking for the money. 

He heard you, of course. 

Charles reluctantly watches the rest of the month play out, bitter that his own forgetfulness took him out so early. 

He vows to win next year. 

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Carlos Sainz: wouldn’t do it. 

He’s not giving up fucking you for a month. No way. 

He also wouldn’t be interested in the sex lives of others enough to even pay into it like Lewis. 

His sex life is his own, and as much as he loves healthy competition, this is a race he’s happy to lose. 

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Max Verstappen: would be a huge bitch all month.

Dude is like a moody teenager when he’s not getting it. 

Daniel persuades him to do it and he makes it a few days in.

Literally turns into the biggest moody bitch ever.

By the 8th day everyone is begging you to just fuck him so he’ll stop being such a cunt to them.

You do. 

He pays up and spends the rest of the month fucking you. 

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Paul Aron: he would almost win.

He would last pretty long. Like maybe more than half the month

Despite his playboy facade, he’s actually more into cuddles and shit like that. 

 But after a bad race…

Yeah, he pays up with zero shame. 

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Arthur LeClerc: he would lose, in two ways. 

Y’know how quickly Charles lost, yeah he’d be worse.

He wouldn’t forget, he’d just think that he can get away with fucking you all month but of course, that doesn’t happen.

George comes knocking after Charles tells him he can hear you two.

You are deeply embarrassed that your boyfriend's brother heard you two having sex, and you impose a ban for the rest of the month. 

You say it’ll help you both be more aware of when and where you’re doing it, and how to not get caught by his brother again. 

He curses out his brother the next time he sees him.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[cup-o-stars]

Relativity Falls!

Design Concepts (and my unnecessary thoughts):

Excuse the the colors, ig my apps are fighting.

I see Mabel finding success no matter what happens to her, but I really like the thought of her running an insane arts and crafts business in GF. Alternatively, if she fell in the portal, she'd come out acting confident as always, but she probably wouldn't realize how much the constant change and lack of family/stability wore her out until she settled back in. In either case, she's a bit cracked.

Dipper is investigative, but cracks easiest under stress and is not as inherently adventurous as Mabel or Ford- so the portal wouldn't treat him well. If he's not the one in the portal, he'd be into stargazing and real magic to share with people, while also warding tourists away from the dangerous stuff. In general, he'd be an unhappy adult if left to his own devices, lol.

Between Dipper and Mabel, I like Dipper being in the portal more. He's a great protagonist, but as a supporting cast member, he needs to be more insane to match the draw that is 'Mabel taking care of children,' ha. I also love the idea of there being no portal / some other looming threat for these two to struggle with (at least because Hirsche has made it clear that Dipper and Mabel are equally smart, and to me it seems like the portal would reopen way quicker with them), but I didn't plan on posting these and I don't know how my followers feel about me posting lore.

Stanford and Stanley:

Pretty much how they are in canon, but now they're in a setting where they can get over themselves, ha. They aren't quite as mature as Dipper and Mabel were at their age, but after coming to GF, they finally found other people to look out for them. Dipper could be a more emotionally available and level-headed role model (I think having people to take care of is calming for him in turn), and they'd both look up to Mabel as the peak of somebody who knows how to socialize.

Fiddleford:

He's a sweet, southern, farm-raised mechanical engineer just like in canon.

Idk why Fiddleford is in GF (visiting an unnamed grandparent?), but I really like his relationship with Ford in the journal. Following that thought, in this AU, he starts out more of Ford's friend than Stan's, and it's kind of a big deal. Unlike Dipper's arc on learning to be a kid, Stan and Ford clearly struggled a lot with interpersonal relationships / finding security outside of eachother, and that's what I think this AU could be about (it's great they realized they need each other in canon, but the part where they had no one else to turn to is also kinda crazy if you ask me).

Ford gets to meet another smart kid in a weird town, which helps him feel more normal. He has a better idea of what friendship is because of it, but also, since I can't imagine Dipper wanting an apprentice so young/vulnerable/impressionable or Mabel asking only one of the twins to stay- he'd have to come to terms with the fact that he can't live in his dream world forever. (Or maybe the apprenticeship comes from somewhere else, just because the conflict around going back to Glass Shard Beach at all, or sending Stan alone could be pretty good.)

On the flipside, I think Stan's initial jealousy of Ford and Fiddleford's friendship would force him to try finding his own friends / hobbies. I like the idea that he fails at first- and a lot- but Mabel notices his mounting frustration (which he is very keen on hiding), and her consistent and unorthodox support makes him realize he wasn't alone to begin with. He can be more open around her, which makes it easier to open up to others, and then he can make friends without having to pull any tricks. He probably starts with some animals, and then at least gets closer to Fiddleford anyways (I feel like they're both more practical than Ford and value human company more, so they'd bond easier once Stan gets over his personal hurdle).

Anyways- because that was way too much- Mabel's exes are a constant source of antagonists and Dipper is stressed about setting a good example.

(I was more of a Monster Falls fan back in the day, but I can't draw animals, lol)

[taeyongdoyoung]

wolf and bunny

summary: you ask your best friend to fuck you in your sleep but your bottled up feelings come out to the surface... pairing: chan x reader genre: smut, best friends to lovers warnings: cnc/somnophilia, discussion of boundaries, eating out, touching, groping, unprotected sex, spanking, stranger+wolf/bunny roleplay, little red riding hood references, face-slapping (once), size kink, cockwarming, multiple rounds, feelings (ew), pet names, discussion of future scenario 👀 (i know i said this is the end but...we'll see) author's note: hii everyone, this is the third and final part of my wolf and bunny series, thank you so much for going on this nasty journey with me 🤍 part one & part two word count: 2k

You and Chan are having a bit of a disagreement in connection with the circumstances surrounding your next game.

“But I want to know exactly which night you’ll do it.”

“If you know, you won’t be able to fall asleep,” Chan reasons with you. “Kinda like Santa Claus. Kids stay up all night waiting for him and then he never comes.”

“Please, even if the kids were asleep, he’d still never come ‘cause the parents are putting the presents under the tree!”

“It was just a metaphor.”

“A bad one. You’re gonna have to work harder to convince me.”

“Hey, wasn’t this your idea in the first place?” Chan reminds you teasingly. “You’re the one who wants me to fuck her in her sleep.”

“Ey, don’t pretend you won’t be into it,” you shake your head.

You are both so stubborn you don’t see this ending unless one of you retreats. Then, after a brief consideration, you speak again.

“Fine. You can keep the secret of the exact night you’ll do this. On one condition.”

“Sure, bunny, let’s hear it,” Chan listens eagerly.

“If I wake up, you won’t stop. I’ll just pretend I’m still sleepy and we keep going.”

“Is that even possible? I mean, for you to not wake up?”

“It is if you drug me or something,” you shrug.

“Ugh, don’t give me such evil ideas. You never know when I might take advantage of you.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it, wolfie.”

“But are you sure the sleep thing is a great idea? I mean, you wouldn't be able to say a safeword...” Chan can't help but worry, always putting your needs first and planning every scenario in great detail to make sure you're alright. Damnit, could he get any more perfect? He's so sweet and considerate you wish you could just tell him how you feel. But what if that scares him away? What if you lose not only your wicked game buddy but your best friend in the entire world? You wouldn't be able to live with yourself.

“Yes, I'm positive, Chris,” you place your hand on top of his. “I trust you 100% and know that you'll look after me. The question is, do you trust my judgement?”

“I mean, I do trust you. It's just that last time you didn't communicate your discomfort clearly and I wouldn't want to risk messing up to the point of accidentally hurting you,” Chan verbalizes his anxieties.

“I get what you're saying but it's not like I'm open to doing this with a stranger. It's you we're talking about. You've always been great at taking care of people so I know you wouldn't go too far. But at the same time, I wouldn't mind if you went loose. If anyone can take it and accept you fully, it would be me.”

“Yeah, I know. You're right. But just in case, I want you to know beforehand that I care about you and respect you like a lot. So, even if I get carried away, I still want you to feel safe.”

“Aww, Chris, ya old softie! I always feel safe with you, it goes without saying!” you insist.

“Well, I like hearing you say it.”

You gulp nervously. His voice is so commanding and yet so reassuring that your words have never rung truer. He's more to you than a safety net and you hope he knows it. He's incredibly thoughtful and infinitely kinder than the first impression. He's a riddle in the way he keeps surprising you and yet you wanna keep learning more about him. He's hundreds of the loveliest words in the dictionary multiplied. He's more comforting than your favourite blanket. He's warmth personified and you would be an idiot to let him go.

“I'll try to say it more often, then,” you promise. “When I'm with you, I know no harm will come my way. But here's the thing...you're the only one I'd willingly let hurt me.”

“I don't want to hurt you, though.”

“You don't?” you pout, suddenly feeling guilty. Then, what have you been doing? Was he forcing himself to act out these fantasies for your sake alone? You genuinely thought he was enjoying them as much as you were.

“Sorry, that came out wrong,” Chan is quick to explain. “I like our games. I meant that I don't want to hurt you emotionally. Ever.”

“Ah, yeah, that makes sense,” you chuckle, feeling a little stupid. “Well, you don't need to worry about that. Glad we had this talk.”

“Me too,” Chan gazes at you fondly.

“So, which night are you fucking me while I'm asleep?” you attempt to find out while he has this dazed look in his eye.

“Next- Hey, nice try! I'm not telling you, you impatient devil.”

“Aw, man, I was so close,” you bemoan the uncertainty of your future.

“You wish.”

The long-awaited night finally arrives. Chan has a key to your place so entering it is too easy. He makes sure he picks a night when you’ve complained about being exhausted and sleepy all day long. And he is certain that you’re passed out in your room, not suspecting a thing. Well, a part of you is always anticipating what could happen, but still.

He’s beyond glad to find you sound asleep. You’re wearing nothing but a t-shirt and some flimsy panties. Chan admires your sleeping form for a couple of brief moments before he gets down to business.

He wonders where to start. Should he tear them up? Or maybe push them to the side? Should he grope your boobs through your shirt? Or perhaps slide his hands beneath it, stroking your nipples directly? So many opportunities. He wants to do everything, he decides.

Chan starts by moving your panties to the side and licking your tiny pussy. He touches you with his fingers, gently prodding your entrance but not exactly sticking them inside yet. Then, he sneaks his hand underneath your shirt, teasing your nipples. Fuck, you’re so soft.

He marvels at the knowledge that you’d trust him with something like that. Though the previous scenarios were hot and intense as fuck, this one hits different for him. Maybe because last time you were awake, you were still in control because you could say the safeword whenever. Maybe because you want him at your most vulnerable even in your sleep. Or maybe because he’s slowly falling for you, but he doesn’t know how to say it.

It’s okay. Chan’ll show you, instead. He pinches your nipples lightly and continues to make out with your pussy. You are so wet already it’s adorable. He wonders if you’re dreaming of him, as you shift slightly in your sleep. He wants to drag this out. But how?

He uses his nails to trace circles on your skin, which causes goosebumps to appear. Are you cold? He wants to keep you warm and full at all times. Chan can’t take it any longer and takes his cock out, sliding in so perfectly. As if you were made for him. Made to take his cock and let him do crazy things to you. His sweet little bunny…

You moan desperately and the spell is broken. You’re awake. He wanders if you’ll speak or he’ll have to make you. Both options sound quite appealing. But he wants to hear your voice more than anything.

“Shhh, go back to sleep, sweetheart,” Chan whispers gently.

“W-who are you?” you cry out.

Aw, you’re gonna pretend not to know him? That hurts. But it can be fun, he thinks.

“Just the big bad wolf,” he chuckles at the irony of it.

“Please, don't do this,” you fake not wanting it, even though you've never wanted anything so badly in your life.

“Oh, bunny, but I already am,” Chan replies, spanking your ass a couple of times in the meantime.

“G-gonna split me in h-half,” you mumble, voice muffled against your pillow.

“Yeah? G'na ruin my sweet girl?” he speaks to you so softly you want to melt right there and then.

“Feel so full 'n so s'eepy,” you slur helplessly.

“Aw, tiny, go back to sleep, then,” Chan pats your head soothingly.

“Can't. What a deep voice you have!” you play along too well.

“All the better to degrade you with, my slutty bun,” Chan laughs, while still continuing to fuck you.

“What big hands you have!” you keep saying.

“All the better to grab your tits with,” Chan chuckles and makes good on his promise by playing with your boobs.

“And slap me with!” you remind him playfully.

“As you wish, princess,” Chan growls and slaps you across the face harshly but not harsh enough to actually leave a mark.

“What big eyes you have,” you sigh wistfully.

“All the better to stare at you fall apart,” Chan responds cleverly.

“And what big cock you have!” you scream, barely resisting the urge to laugh. Are you a silly little bunny or Little Red Riding Hood? At this point, you don't care, but it feels too good regardless.

“All the better to fuck you with,” he grunts loudly, spilling inside of you.

You follow rightaway and urge him to stay like this for a while. Maybe round two is in order?

“You know what else is big?” Chan teases you.

“Oh, shut up, Bigfoot!” you reply and are no longer able to hold it in, breaking into laughter. Chan also finds the interaction hilarious and buries his head in the nook of your shoulder. You stroke his hair without realizing. Shit, he's so adorable you almost say the three words. Is it too risky? Too soon? You need a distraction. You need... “Fuck me again.”

“Already? Aren't you tired?” Chan wants to make sure.

“Fuck me till I fall asleep again,” you ask him.

“Um, okay, sure,” Chan looks a bit confused but does as you ask.

This time there is less talking and more fucking but no matter how many rounds you go, sleep doesn't come again. You both orgasm more times than you could count, but somehow, it isn't nearly enough to distract you from the inevitable. You love him. Your heart knows it, your pussy knows it, even your brain knows it but is stubborny telling you not to confess for fear of somehow ruining things.

Once Chan decides he's completely spent for the night, he pulls out of you and rips off the bandaid.

“Are you alright? Something suddenly shifted but I can't quite place it,” he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear and nudges you softly with his shoulder.

“Do you want the truth that might mess up everything or do you want me to lie to you and say I'm fine?” you ask, even though you're already on the verge to tell the truth.

“With you? Always the truth, please,” Chan clearly states his preference.

You sigh deeply and tilt to the side so you're facing him properly.

“I think...no, I know I love you.”

“I love you, too, babybun,” Chan responds fondly and kisses you on the nose.

“In a non-friendly way. And I don't mean just sexually, either. I mean, the friendly way and the sexual way haven't diminished, of course. But I also love you in a...I want to be yours, your girlfriend, your lover, your romantic partner, your everything.”

Chan is taken aback by your words. You...feel the same?

“You already are,” he confesses genuinely.

“Huh?” you blink in shock.

“I mean...you are already my everything. But, if you'd like me to officially ask you, then...will you be my girlfriend, angel?”

“You...you'll have me?” you are still in disbelief.

“I thought I already had ya,” Chan pinches your cheeks lightly.

“Damn right you do, Mr. Wolf,” you giggle and pull him into a kiss.

He smells like autumn, his embrace exudes warmth and his lips taste like home.

“You have no idea how badly I've wanted to tell you about my feelings,” Chan confesses. “When I found that story of yours in your drafts, I just couldn't resist the opportunity. I hoped that if I turned your fantasies into reality that you'd eventually fall for me.”

“Oh, Channie...I've been falling for you for longer than you realize,” you admit shyly. “How could I not? You're everything I've ever wanted.”

So, this is what it feels like to have the world in your hands. Huh. You could get used to it.

Bonus:

“No, I'm not kidnapping you!” Chan is adamant as you two sit in a nice restaurant.

“But Chriiiis,” you whine. “You said you'd do anything for my birthday.”

“Anything but that!” Chan shakes his head in amusement.

“Why not? It can be fun!”

“Fun? What if something goes wrong, what if someone sees us and thinks I'm actually kidnapping you, what if...hear me out, here, I go to prison for it?”

“Well, duh, then I'd bail you out!”

“As if you could afford it,” Chan rolls his eyes.

“Hey! But seriously, I'll just tell the cops that I asked you to kidnap me.”

“What if they don't believe you and think you have a Stockholm syndrome?”

“I'll...think of something. Come on, we're going too far with the what-ifs.”

“You gotta be prepared for any situation. You'd know that if you carried the heavy burden of being a dom,” Chan tsks at you.

“I'd know that if you let me,” you give him a wink.

“That will only happen the day I agree to fake-kidnap you.”

“So, tomorrow? It's a date!” you grin excitedly.

“Keep dreaming, darling.”

“Oh, I will.”

The End