#like does him being a daddy’s boy in theory stop him from being terrifying and lethal if he feels like he needs to carry out God’s will

[aliveafterparadise]

my favorite versions of Michael are the ones where he shows you yes, he can absolutely exercise free will, just no, you won’t like it

[starlight-writes-stuff]

SO HEAR ME OUT an nsfw alphabet for draco

hey bestie - im literally so excited to do this (: i have a guilty pleasure of reading nsfw alphabets so u really hit the nail on the head with this request . n e ways , enjoy !

AYO LOOK AT THESE ! : smut (duh but still) , hair pulling , breeding k!nk , unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it) , masturbation , choking , light bondage , praise kink , general adult themes and content so please only read if ur okay with that .

reblogs are always appreciated ! <3 ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁

a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

draco is the literal definition of a fluff fic after sex - hes so soft and loving and affectionate . if the sex was on the rougher side , draco goes out of his way to kiss any bruises , cuts , or red marks he may have left on you, soothing the sinfully painful spots with soft touches of his suddenly gentle fingertips.  

b = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

draco is built like a greek mf god , and he knows it . he’s all lean , toned muscles and his alabaster pale skin only makes him look more ethereal . draco is quite proud of his body and isn’t afraid to show off if needed.

draco literally loves everything about you , and you’ve tried over and over to get him to pick his most favorite - he never does it because he’s a stubborn little shit and refuses to let you think that he values one part of you over any other . finally , you wore him down to coming up with a top 3 : your hands , your hair , and your chest .

 your hands as they fit perfectly in his , they brush his hair out of his eyes with a gentleness that melts him every time (and the way you dig your nails into his back or his arms iykyk) . 

draco loves your hair mostly because its the exact opposite of his own ; long , thick , and chocolate brown . he’s constantly playing with your hair , whether that's running his hands through it or gently tugging on it to get your attention . he would kill you if you ever told anyone , but draco taught himself how to braid your hair so he would have something repetitive to do to calm his anxiety .

 draco loves your chest : he's such a boob guy . he is such a boob guy . even in a non-sexual context , draco loves having his hands up your shirt just feeling how soft your breasts are , the way that he can feel your heartbeat if you’re still enough . when things are getting *frisky* draco loves your tits - in his hands , using his mouth on them , titty-fucking you , literally everything . 

c = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

draco has a huge breeding kink , but is simultaneously terrified of getting you pregnant. he knows that he wants to be a dad eventually , but draco malfoy is the king of daddy issues™ and can’t fathom having a child right now .

that doesn’t stop him from filling you up with his cum every time you guys fuck - draco loves watching your face as you take his entire load , begging him not to pull out . 

once he does , though , draco’s head is immediately between your legs watching his manhood drip out of you , fingering it out of you while you whimper at the way he seems to hit all the right spots . 

he’s extremely thankful for the tiny , yellow birth control pills that you’re on , and he reminds you every day to take them .

d = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

draco had never , ever said i love you to someone during or after sex until the two of you had your first time . now , its a normal occurrence for draco to tell you how much he loves you as he thrusts into your pretty , fucked out body . he lets his forehead fall to yours , moaning the words in between heavy breaths as he finishes inside you .

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

draco had a couple of hookups , and a complicated friends with benefits situation before the two of you got together , so he was somewhat experienced by the time you guys finally got down to it . he made sure you felt so good the entire time , using every trick in his book to make you cum around him over and over until he reached completion as well . 

f = favorite position (this goes without saying)

draco is a sucker for regular old missionary . he likes being able to watch your face as you take every inch of him , watching your facial expressions change and morph under the influence of his pleasure . if he’s eager to feel you - all of you - draco will hook one of your legs over his shoulders , giving him better access to your sex . this is the one instance where draco wont keep eye contact with you : he can't resist watching himself slide in and out of you , coated in your cum .

however

he's an absolute sucker for you riding him , too . he loves to let you take control and chase your pleasure - plus the visual of you bouncing up and down on his cock , eyes rolling back into your head as you hit all the right spots is enough to send him over the edge . if you get tired while on top , draco will gladly hold your hips in place , fucking up into you until you practically collapse into him , entirely taken over by the force of your orgasm. 

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

intimacy is something that didn’t come easy for you and draco; he’d never been with someone that he actually loved before you . there was a deep intensity to the emotions shared between you two during sex , and draco viewed that time between the both of you as something almost sacred . foreplay , or just general teasing can be silly with you two , but making love is more serious . 

h = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

draco keeps himself trimmed , but not entirely clean shaven , and the hair down there is darker than his signature white-blond locs .

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

(refer back to g but i could talk about this for days) draco is incredibly romantic when it comes to sex . your first time was like something out of a movie - draco had lit candles everywhere , filling the room with soft , flickering light , as well as changing the sheets on your bed to a soft , white cotton . he’d taken his time making you comfortable ; you and draco had talked through all your fears for hours before he laid a hand on you . once you were ready , draco’s touches had been soft and slow and tender all over your body - he’d made you feel like the angel you were . quickly , you learned that draco wasn’t like that just because it had been your first time ; draco made an effort to make sex just as special every time. 

j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

draco was raised thinking that masturbation was a shameful act , something dirty and below him (you literally can not tell me that this isn't true i'll fight it until the day i die . as much as i love narcissa the malfoy family fkn sucks and they damaged draco so bad . anyways) so it’s very rare that he’ll get himself off. when he does , its somewhere where he can quickly get rid of the evidence , such as the shower . 

k = kink (one or more of their kinks)

while draco makes sex between you two meaningful and special , that doesn’t mean that he’s afraid to be rough (after yall have had a long talk about it before where you gave him enthusiastic consent ofc . ) 

draco loves to pull your hair or wrap a hand around your throat while he’s hitting it from the back , so much so that he’ll bring your back up to his chest . 

he really enjoys a bit of light choking here and there - just enough to watch your pretty face flush with blood , making your moans the slightest bit weaker . 

draco loves to tie your hands up above your head while he’s eating you out as well ; it makes you take all the pleasure he’s willing to give , and he lives for the way your body writhes and bucks under his skillful tongue. 

you literally can not tell me that draco doesn’t have a praise kink - both giving and receiving . draco loves to tell you how good of a job your doing whether you're sucking him off or taking all of him inside you , and he’s constantly reassuring you that you’re doing such a good job.

however

he fucking loves when you praise him as well (my theory as to why is so fkn sad so we wont go over that here) but that boy lives for you telling him how good he’s making you feel , and when you encourage him nodding and whining for him to go faster . its the one thing that undoes him almost immediately , and he flushes furiously every time you tell him just how fantastic he’s doing .  

l = location (favorite places to do the do)

you and draco rarely get it on outside of your bedrooms at hogwarts , or your childhood rooms when you’re home for the summer - but there’s an exception to every rule. draco has absolutely ruined you in the quidditch changing rooms after a rather brutal loss , and he’s the king of shower sex , too.

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

praise !! draco loves you telling him how good his dick feels , or his tongue , or his hands . he also appreciates when you’re rather direct with him - telling draco exactly where you want him , what you want him to do - it drives him absolutely insane . hearing such dirty words come from your sweet , innocent mouth kills him , and it makes draco that much more excited.

n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

there's nothing draco wouldn’t try at least once , but he’s rather uncomfortable with voyeurism. he hates the idea of anyone else seeing your body , watching how you wriggle and whine underneath him as he makes you cum . while the two of you have done it in some questionable locations , draco had made sure that no one could see . 

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

while draco loves your mouth wrapped around him , that boy could spend all day between your legs . he's nothing short of obsessed with eating you out , and its one of his favorite things to do for you . he cant help the way it makes him feel - hearing you whimper and moan while you pull on his hair , your back arching off the bed when his tongue flicks in just the right way . he gets a sort of high from it , and absolutely prides himself on making you cum with just his tongue . 

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

it really depends on the day . draco loves fucking you slow , watching his manhood slide in and out of your pretty body coated in your arousal , but he cant resist fucking you so hard he leaves bruises , either . if its just a regular day , the two of you fall somewhere in between , a perfect mix of rough and sweet . 

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

draco loves a good quickie every once in a while ! sometimes he needs a release , and your body is his favorite vessel . usually quickies are where the two of you get a little more risky - he’ll grab your arm , pulling you into an empty classroom or the shower and take you then and there . 

r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

yes and no . draco would try anything and everything , especially if you asked him to , but there are some things that are a one-and-done for him . the two of you are good at talking about that stuff - if something made one of you uncomfortable , the other would understand 100% . its all about the balance of boundaries and still being adventurous. 

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

draco would fuck you all day if you would let him . he can make you cum many , many times before he’ll allow himself to even get close , and even then his stamina is through the roof . he can go at least 3 rounds if not more , and switch positions as many times as you’d like . 

t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

while draco doesn’t mind you using toys on yourself , they do make him slightly jealous . you gently tease him about this sometimes , how he works himself into a sulk over an inanimate object - however, that usually leads to your hands tied to his headboard , draco holding a vibrator on your clit until you can’t take anymore orgasms. 

you two have expirimented with using your vibrator during sex , but draco much prefers playing with your clit over using an outside source , and seretly , you do too . he’s amazing with his hands , and rubs tight , fast circles onto your sensitive nub while his hips snap against yours only intensifying the sensation .

u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

draco loves to tease you - he likes to watch the way you come undone under the slightest touches of his hands . very rarely does he tease you for long - he can’t resist giving you what you want , what you’re begging him for in that high , breathy voice .

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

he’s a loud motherfucker all the time , and the bedroom is no exception . draco’s moans are music to your ears , and they turn you on more than anything . his already rough voice only gets raspier , and deeper , too . he loves to talk dirty to you , but as he approaches his orgasm , he can barely form full sentences . his cocky pillow talk turns to almost desperate moans and whimpers as his thrusts get sloppier and quicker , his hips snapping against yours hard . his groans as he cums are heavenly , especially since he’s usually buried his head in your neck or dropped his forehead to yours by then . 

w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

we all know that draco have a superiority / god complex (as he should 😌) , and this manifests in the bedroom - you would’ve never known , though , if it weren’t for a complete accident . you and draco had been studying together , and he’d asked one of the yes or no questions written on a flashcard .  not thinking about your actions , you’d answered the question with “no, sir” - then physically felt draco’s entire body stiffen underneath you . you’d picked up on it immediately , blood flooding your face as you’d asked him if he liked it .

yes , he did .

he loves when you call him sir as he’s fucking the life out of you - like , he has to stop himself from cumming on the spot . 

when you want to fuck with him for whatever reason , you’ll jokingly call him ‘sir’ in front of your friends

you’ll pay for it later , though

x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

mans is built in every sense of the word . draco is quite well endowed , which was something that took you a bit to get used to . he was never one to measure - it just seemed wrong to him , like he was doing something dirty - but by your estimations , draco is about 7 inches . he’s thicker than most , too , which only adds to your pleasure . 

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

draco lives in a constant state of horny™ . he can’t help it - something about you brings out his most primal instincts . he’s so in love with you and your body that he can rarely keep his hands off of it , but he knows how to control himself . he tries to match your sex drive ; when yours is high , his is too , but he doesn’t mind waiting on you to give him the green light if you’re libido has been lower . 

z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

its safe to say that the both of you are extremley tired after sex - its quite the workout . draco is so soft once he’s finished , and he would live in that post-sex haze forever if he could ; he’s all sweet kisses and skin-to-skin contact , but he’ll usually wait until you fall asleep on him before he can drift off . something about making sure that you’re comfortable enough to sleep on him fills draco with a sense of immense pride . once you’ve fallen asleep, depending on how vigorous everything was , draco will usually fade pretty soon after ; on the off chance that he still has some energy , draco stays up and watches you . he looks at you as if you were a piece of art , usually following the soft lines and curves of your face with a gentle finger ; admiring you like the angel you are .

[whump-town]

Pretending

@genevievedarcygranger and I are dorks so here is my take on the thing we did together

Fingers stretch up past his throat, a thick arm pushing at the walls of his esophagus. Stretching it until his head is pushed back, lips parting to breathe around the obstruction. The fingers find his brain, wiggling and tearing through the dura mater as if it’s nothing more than jello. His thoughts shift sluggishly to when Jack was just a baby. The beaming sun against his back as he held his son on one knee, watching in horror as Jack smacked and tore through the cake in front of him with chubby grabbing fingers. He can feel those fingers cupping at his brain, making his knees weak and his body light. Aired out thoughts as nothing lays between his mouth and his thoughts. As if he could float away.

“Daddy?”

Leaning forward on the bench, Hotch presses the heels of his palms into his eye sockets. Post Traumatic Stress, he’s sure Reid would identify easily enough, is crippling him right where he stands. In every little thing that he does. He’d just stepped outside for a book in the yard he left on the chair after watching Jack swing and been hit with such intense panic he’d fallen down into the grass. Couldn’t think or move. Jack had found him hunched over himself pressing his forehead into the warm ground, trying to think past the feeling of his paralyzed lungs.

The park had been their compromise - Jack lives in intervals and the park is a fantastic compromise to easily forget what he’s seen.

“I’m okay,” he whispers, clenching his jaw and focusing on the burn of the sun against his back. It takes an excruciating amount of energy but he lifts his head back up. Settles an unsteady smile and red-rimmed eyes on his son. With a hand that tremors, he cups Jack’s cheek. “What is it, buddy? Want help going across the monkey bars again?”

Jack frowns at him - a face Haley used to love. She’d laugh until she cried, always assuring him that he makes the exact same face. And despite the fact that he’s supposed to be making sure Jack has a normal childhood he’s crying in the park. Thinking about when Jack was so small he fit in the crook of Hotch’s elbow. Flailing asleep in the nursery counting Jack’s little breathes, terrified of what would happen if he walked away. Haley sitting in his lap, the two of them watching the boy they brought into the world together. How Haley had warned him he was going to blink and find he’d lost everything and now he’s sitting on a park bench having taken it all from her.

“Sorry,” Hotch rasps. He rubs his eyes, clearing his throat and forcing his body upright more. “Sorry,” he repeats. “Monkey bars?” He pushes himself up onto his feet, smiling as he offers Jack his hand. Waiting for the boy to grow distracted again by the overwhelming amount of options of things to climb on.

Jack looks over his shoulder to the monkey bars, envy burning his chest as he watches a girl older than him make her way across them. “Yes please,” he chirps, his small fingers wrapping around Hotch’s calloused ones. He beams up at his father, seeing only the man that takes him to the park and cuts his sandwiches into shapes that vaguely resemble dinosaurs. Past the sadness and how tired he is. “One day,” Jack says, pouring his concentration into jumping over the raised edge of the playground. He holds Hotch’s hand a little tighter, giggling when Hotch pulls him up even higher. He lands with a grunt and grins back at Hotch. “One day,” he continues, “I’m gonna be big and strong and --” Jack trips over his feet as he eagerly tears off for the monkey bars. He manages to stay upright. “One day I’m gonna be all growned up, just like you! And then I’m not gonna need no help!”

Hotch nods, following at a slower pace. Between the heat and sweater he’d chosen to wear (to cover the bruises still purpling and angry up his arms) he’s hot and the weakness of his body from too little sleep is draining him rapidly. He knows making it back to the car - a distance of only a few yards - will leave him light-headed and vision hazing. His body aches needs sleep and rest but he has to take care of a four-year-old and both of those things are nearly impossible.

“I wanna be as tall as you!” Jack says, pulling himself up on one of the bars. “Do you think I can?” Jack asks as Hotch ducks down into the contraption. “Mommy said I could,” Jack informs him. “She said I’d be just like you!” He beams at Hotch as he says this, thrilled by the idea of being just like his father. Tall and strong and nice and funny.

Hotch nods.

“But your hair is the wrong color,” Jack pouts.

Hotch smiles, genuinely, at that.

Jack doesn’t understand the amusement and frowns. “Why isn’t your hair yellow?”

Hotch bends down and picks Jack up, holding him around his hips so that Jack can reach up and grab onto the bars above his head. It makes his ribs flare up but he doesn't pay the pain any mind, it won’t stop him. “My mom and dad had dark hair. You have mommy’s hair,” Hotch says. Haley promised this constant talking phase would eventually wear off but Jessica’s theory was that it was just Jack’s way of making up for the “creepy” way Haley and Hotch never seemed to have to have verbal conversations. Haley just rolled her eyes and repeated her earlier promise - little kids just like to talk your ear off, he’d stop with age.

Hotch hopes he doesn’t.

“Why don’t you have mommy’s hair?”

Hotch smirks, “it doesn’t work like that, buddy.” They get to the end and Jack kicks his legs. “Want to drop down?” Jack makes a panicked sound, clearly not liking that idea. One of his hands leaves the bars and grabs Hotch’s wrist so that Hotch can’t let go. “Alright,” Hotch relents. “Do you wanna go again?”

“Yeah!” Jack just let's go, trusting Hotch will catch him. “Just one more time, though. Cause then I’m gonna go down the slide.”

“Alrighty.”

They begin again. Jack is light but Hotch’s ribs scream from having his arms raised up. The bones of his hand groaning as pressure is placed on them. It makes him light-headed, the sharp pain and the dull swelter of the heat. He steps forward, knee buckling, but he keeps both hands on Jack - the boy doesn’t notice.

“Good job,” Hotch praises, voiced rasped as Jack finishes. He lets Jack turn and settle down into his arms, pulled in against his side. Jack pulls both his hands down, showing his father the red patches of irritated skin. “Does it hurt?” Hotch asks. His thumb is nearly the size of Jack’s palm as he presses over the hurt. “That’s how you get callouses,” Hotch mumbles lowly, smirking at Jack’s surprise.

Jack forgets the pain in an instant. “You promise?”

Hotch hums his confirmation and Jack eagerly squirms at the idea. Hotch sets him down on his feet and Jack jumps up excitedly. “Daddy,” Jack calls, turning around and tearing off in the direction of the other equipment. “I’m gonna go to the slide!” Jack pays him no more mind and with a sigh, Hotch leans into the metal bar to his left. Knees shaking and head spinning.

He pushes himself upright, glancing at Jack out of the corner of his eye. He’s in the clear, he knows, but he’s still careful. Makes sure to keep his gait even and strong as he clears the space between monkey bars and the rest of the playground to the bench screaming his name.

“Daddy!” Jack yells from the top of the slide, waving.

Hotch stops and waves back, waiting for Jack to get distracted again before forcing himself forward. He sinks, bone-tired, back onto the bench. Scared that if he’s upright for another moment he’ll pass out. His vision swarms and dips with the heat around him, logged by his exhaustion.

He feels something splash on his pants and at first, he ignores it as just a ghost sensation. They happen and he’s anxious and uncomfortable enough he’s sure his body is just playing all kinds of cruel jokes at his expense. When isn’t it? It happens again a few minutes later but it’s not the same feeling. He looks down and he sees blood-- not just a stain that happens to be red, he sees blood far too often to mistake it for anything else-- and glances over to his left to locate Jack. The boy is obviously to him, shouting happily as he shoots down the slide. He lifts his hips enough to work his hand into his pocket to the handkerchief nearly all his pants carry. He presses the material to his nose, faking to just wipe it in case either of Jack looks over.

His nose is bleeding.

Back when he worked in Seattle, he’d seen a guy get shot in the leg. The bullet nicked an artery and he’d seen that bright blood, the way it gushed so quickly it was hard to put pressure over the flow. Frozen in fear, he’d never seen anything like that. Sitting here on this bench he looks down at the bright blood and gets lost. Frozen once again.

“Daddy!”

Hotch swallows thickly, grimacing at the taste of the blood that’s slid down the back of his throat. He clamps his hand over his nose, still smiling despite the fact that Jack can’t see it. “Hey-” Tears swell in Jack’s eyes as he sees the blood. “I’m okay,” Hotch assures. “It’s just a little blood, buddy.”

Jack whines softly, clearly not convinced. “Daddy, I wanna go home.” He tugs at Hotch’s sleeve. “Can we call Aunt Jess now,” Jack asks, anxiously. He worries the fabric of Hotch’s pants between his fingers, shifting as he waits for a reply.

He wants to assure Jack that they can stay a little longer but he sees the tears pouring down Jack’s face and Hotch nods. He leans to the side, digging his phone out of his pocket. It’s probably not his most coherent text but he manages to put together a few words - the letters all a blur - and it takes only a moment for her to respond. She’s on her way. He sags forward, head falling into his hand. “I’m sorry Jack.” He feels Jack’s hand come up to rest against his cheek, his warm palm sliding until Jack is hugging him. Even if he has to stand up on his toes.

Jack squeezing his neck. “It’s okay,” Jack assures him. “Me ‘n Jess are gonna get you a bandaid and a popsicle and then you’re gonna be all better.” Jack doesn’t let go. “It’s gonna be okay, right Daddy?”

Jack’s conviction is so strong that Hotch doesn’t bother explaining that he can’t put a bandaid over his nose and that it’s going to take more than a popsicle to fix this mess he’s created. But for now, he’ll let Jack hold onto him and “help” him walk to the car. He’ll let Jessica smother him with her worry and take it in stride because it’s important Jack understands getting help is just a part of life - even if each time Jessica touches him his stomach will roll.

He’ll choke down enough of his dinner to assure everyone he’s fine.

And, with any luck, he’ll manage to pretend his way into truly being okay.

“Yeah, buddy, it’s gonna be okay.”

[myhauntedsalem]

CAN CHILDREN SEE GHOSTS? 17 SPINE-CHILLING TRUE STORIES THAT PROVE THEY DO

Have you ever found your child talking to “someone” when they were alone in their room? Is it simply an active imagination or could it be a visitor from beyond the grave?

For most parents, when their child tells them about their new imaginary friend, they simply put it down to their child’s active imagination. Completely normal… right? Well, I wouldn’t be so sure. It’s a widely held belief that some children can see and connect with those who have passed on. A popular theory is that we’re all born with the ability to connect to the other side but, as we grow up and become more cynical and disbelieving of all things unknown, that ability disappears. The following chilling true tales of imaginary friends and unseen visitors in the dead of night might go some way in proving that our children can and do communicate with the dead.

Parents beware, you’ll be checking under the bed and in your closets after reading these horrifying supernatural encounters.

1. THE BELIEVER

I believe that there are happenings on this earth that cannot be logically explained. I’ve always been a little skeptical, but I didn’t completely denounce that ghosts exists.

However, I’m starting to think they are definitely real, and that little kids can see them.

Yesterday, Sunday, I volunteered to watch the little kids of my church while their parents were out volunteering. Our church meets in the community center, so that’s where I was watching the kids — one baby, and two 2-year-olds – a boy and a girl. And you are right, our church is not very big.

After the center cleared out, it was just me and one other volunteer. She had the baby in a side room, trying to put him down for a nap. I had the two-year-olds in the main room.

I had a “weird feeling” all day, and kept feeling like there was someone standing behind me, but chalked it up to being alone in the building. The kids and I were sitting on the floor and rolling a ball back and forth to one another when the boy asked if we could throw it instead. I said yes and we stood up. He ran towards me and threw the ball just out of my reach. It went behind me. I did not hear it bounce.

The kids looked at each other and started giggling. I whirled around and saw the ball suspended in midair for a split second before falling to the ground. The kids just kept laughing. They started pointing and saying what sounded like “the man! the man!”

That was all the “paranormal” that occurred yesterday. The kids didn’t say anything about “the man” for the rest of the day. It freaked me out, but I wasn’t scared. I just wanted to share.

2. IT WAS JUST A DREAM

My daughter used to tell me about a man who came into her room every night and put the sign of the cross on her forehead. I thought it was just a dream. Then my mother-in-law sent over some family photos. My daughter looked right at the picture of my husband’s father (who has been dead for 16 years) and said ‘That’s the man who comes into my room at night!’ My husband later told me his father would always do the sign of the cross on his forehead when he was young.

3. DADDY, WHO’S THAT MAN?

When my daughter was younger (maybe 2 1/2 years old) she slept in her crib in the room next to me and my wife. One night she was stirring and maybe a little frightened, so I went in to get her and brought her to our room. She was wide awake now in our bed and not scared at all now. She was looking wondrously at the foot of our bed saying “look at the lights, the sparkles….” Kind of playfully she kept mentioning “the lights”. Then she said “Daddy, who’s that man?” Pointing directly at the foot of our bed.

It was definitely unsettling.

We had bought the apartment from a very elderly couple who passed in the apartment a few months earlier. Probably never forget that.

4. THE CAPTAIN

A parent of one of my students told us in a meeting that she was concerned because her son (7 years old) talked about an invisible ghost who would talk to him and play with him in his room. He said the ghost was called The Captain and was an old white guy with a beard. The kid would tell his mom that The Captain told him when he grows up his job will be to kill people, and The Captain would tell him who needed to be killed. The kid would cry and say he doesn’t want to kill when he grows up, but The Captain tells him he doesn’t have a choice and he’ll get used to killing after a while.

I was always creeped out working with that student after that.

5. MY COUSIN TRACY

When my niece was about 4 she had an imaginary friend, which I don’t remember the name of. She would blame things she did on this imaginary friend but also talked about how this friend would watch Scooby Doo with her. One day I thought, why don’t I find out more about this friend. So I asked her to tell me about her friend. And she said, “She’s a she and she’s dead.” And I said okay, “Does she have a job?” and she said, “She does what my Daddy does!” Which is that her imaginary friend was a cop. Okay. So then I said, “Where is your imaginary friend a policewoman at?” and she said, “Right next to where my daddy is a policeman.” And I said okay. But then she said, “I met her when I was in my mummy’s belly. She touched me when I was inside.”

A few months before my niece was born my cousin Tracy had died. She was hit by a train. She loved watching Scooby Doo and had a ton of memorabilia. She was also a cop. She was a cop in the town that is right next to the one my brother-in-law is a cop in, my nieces “Daddy.” My niece’s imaginary friend was my dead cousin. There is no other way she could have known all that at the age of 4.

6. EMILY

when my sister was probably about 6 or 7, she had an imaginary friend named Emily. She told us Emily lived in her closet, wore an old black dress, and had long dark hair and she was the same age as my sister. My sister played with Emily constantly. My parents started noticing my sister acting weird. Just sitting in the middle of her room whispering to Emily quite a bit and acting a lot more distant towards them. I remember a very specific day, my brother was walking by her room and my sister was sitting in the middle of her room….but she turned around and hissed at him. He was scared shitless. He told me it didn’t even look like my sister. My parents ran up to her room and i could hear my sister just screaming and screaming as loud as she “Get out”.

I have no idea what happened in that room but I ran to the bottom of my stairs and the screaming stopped, I saw my parents holding my sister crying their eyes out, she was sobbing as well. I’ve asked her about it today. She’s 24 now. She told me that Emily used to tell her to do horrible things to herself. She actually used to wake up on the roof and not remember how she got there. I’m not kidding. Apparently, Emily absolutely hated my parents so she turned my sister against them. She hates talking about it so I never brought up that specific night. This all happened at my old house. When we moved into a different house, Emily was gone. I’m not making any of this up. My sister’s little friend was a really big deal to my family and messed things up for a long time. I’m just relieved we left that house.

I’m not making any of this up. My sister’s little friend was a really big deal to my family and messed things up for a long time. I’m just relieved we left that house.

7. JESSICA

A little after I was born, my sister Julia had an imaginary friend named Jessica. She was Julia’s friend for a long time, when things started to get a little weird. At first my parents shrugged it off as a normal occurrence, but after a while they began to believe that our house was haunted .One night as my parents put me (about one years old) to sleep, I begin to cry and point at the corner, my mom was still in there and began to try to comfort me, but I continued to cry and point at the same corner. All of the sudden, my sister walks into my room and points at the corner and yells “Jessica stop it!”

Immediately I stop crying and Julia says like it is completely normal that “Sometimes Jessica likes to put on scary masks and scare people”. My mom who was understandably freaked out stammers to my sister “Tell Jessica that if she can’t play nice, she can’t play here at all”.

A couple weeks go by and Julia tells my Mom that “Her eyes turn green when she is mad and her voice gets deeper”. My Mom didn’t know how to respond to this and just said “ok….”

Eventually Julia outgrows her “imaginary” friend and stops playing with her.

A year and a half later my little sister Abbey begins to talk, she then goes on to tell us about her friend that no one else can see. She then tells my mom about how her eyes turn green when she is upset. I remember this distinctly because she dropped a pan and it scared me. She asked Abbey what her name was and she said…

“Jessica.”

8. THE BOY IN THE TREE

My folks’ farm surrounds a cemetery, and my dad and my niece were walking down there. My niece (4) looks up and says “What’s that boy doing up in that tree?” There was no boy, but she insisted there was and could describe him.

9. YOU’RE DOING A GOOD JOB

My wife and I overheard my two-year-old daughter on the baby monitor wake up on Saturday morning and say “what? OK, I’ll tell her” then get up and come into our bedroom and told my wife “Mary says you’re doing a good job.”

Mary was her grandmother that she was extremely close too that passed away.

10. THE MAN IN THE DOORWAY

When my nephew was born, ten years ago now. Around age 2/3 He’d wake up in the middle of the night and when my sister and her fiance went to settle him down he’d be staring at the corner of the room, or at the open doorway saying there was a man standing there, that he came and talked to him at night. Sometimes he was scared, sometimes he was calm, but my sister was terrified!

11. MY FRIEND JOE

Not my kid, but something my mum said I did when I was little.

I had this imaginary friend named “Joe” – was pretty normal imaginary friend stuff to begin with, my parents would ask about him and I’d respond with something like “I like Joe” “He has curly black hair” “He likes to play outside” nothing interesting.

Until one day I come out with “Joe has to work a lot, but Joe’s boss doesn’t like him.” when asked why, I responded with “Oh, it’s because Joe’s black.” As if it was obvious. Now this wouldn’t have been weird at all if I hadn’t grown up in a very small all-white town. And I was about 3 years old, I didn’t know (or rather, hadn’t been taught) that racism was even a thing.

This continued on for a while, I’d mention Joe now and then, sometimes talking about what he did for fun, or his favorite things, other times mentioning that his boss hits him and shouts all the time.

After a few months, I go up to my mum one day and have a conversation that went something like this: “Joe’s really happy today. His boss isn’t coming back” ‘Why?’ “He’s dead” ‘Oh yeah? How did he die?’ “He hung himself from up there” (as I point up towards the attic door).

I don’t remember much of this, I definitely remember having an imaginary friend named Joe.

12. THE LITTLE GIRL

My grandfather had a camp on Lake Dering in NH when I was a kid. One day when I was 6 or so, I fell off of the dock and into the water. I couldn’t swim. While under, I distinctly remember seeing a little girl down there who told me to look up towards the sun and just keep kicking and I’d be fine. I swam to the surface just in time for my grandfather to swoop me up and pull me back on the dock.

And, yes, I found out later that a little girl drowned in the lake near that same spot (of course).

13. THE IMAGINARY FRIEND

When my daughter was three she had an imaginary friend named Kelly who lived in her closet. Kelly sat in a little rocking chair while she slept, played with her, etc. Typical imaginary friend shit. Anyway, fast forward two years later, the wife and I are watching the new Amityville (the one with Ryan Renolds) and our daughter walks out right when dead girl goes all black eyed. Far from being disturbed, she said “That looks like Kelly.” “Kelly who?” we say “You know the dead girl that lived in my closet.”

14. HER EYES WOULD FOLLOW IT

I had tons of experiences like this when my little girl was born a few years ago. From being just a few months old we noticed she’d randomly start looking over at something and giggling, like something was making her laugh. Her eyes would follow it around the room. And sometimes we’d feel like it was stood right next to us or behind us and then we’d noticed she was looking at it, or smiling in that direction. It never caused any problems though, in fact, when she was upset she’d look over at it and start laughing or smiling. And if we couldn’t find something we really needed, suddenly it’d appear right in front of us, when we knew we’d checked there a hundred times.

Stopped around the time she turned two.

15. PUNISHMENT

I was seventeen and babysitting a friend of the family’s six-year-old. he’d been in bed a couple of hours and I just peeked in to check on him. he wasn’t in the bed and when i opened the door wider, I saw he was standing in the corner, facing the wall. creepiest fucking thing ever. I asked him what he was doing and all he did was turn around, smile, and put his finger to his lips as if to say “shhh”. I asked him again what he was doing and all he says is, “leave us. It is the punishment.”

16. HE DOESN’T HAVE A FACE

My son from the age of three always tells me about the “creeper man” who lives in my mom and dads bedroom. He brings it up after he visits them. I made the mistake once of asking what he looks like. My son said “Oh, he doesn’t have a face.”

17. I WAS THE SAME

I tend to be skeptical also, even when I love reading about paranormal stuff, the only thing that has kind of freaked me out has been my nephew a couple of years ago when he was about 2 1/2 years old would talk to a man only he could see at my house and an old lady at his grandparents house.

My mother tells me I was the same, talking and playing with my grandfather for a few months after he died, I would call to him and hold conversations with him and even wish him good night before going to bed.

[orange-waterfalls]

Reader w/wings hc's p.2: lesser- known egos/egos i just didn’t wanna put in the last one

ty @fancybootm for the request!

A/N: IT’S BEEN A WHOLE ASS MONTH SINCE I GOT THIS I AM SO FUCKING SORRY. school is suck. anyways. my brain convinced itself that I had to have the same amount of egos in this one as the last one so shit's long again. I had a bit of trouble but scrounged up enough of them. uhhh I don't... we don't really know a lot? about the personalities of these ones? so I just went with what I thought. for Heistiplier, I like to think Mark in AHWM and ADWM is a completely separate person from Actor. Like until we get to the Actor timeline he is a separate person altogether. Night Guard Mark is like mark from the fnaf musical because i can and fuck you. the egos are very random and from many lesser known videos so uh. you might not know all of them. I didn’t even know all of them at first. some of these fuckers annoy me to no end so I had to make them more likable for my own sanity cjfufydy. I only skimmed through after I wrote so it might suck lol. Uh rated T for cursing. Mentions of religion and mental health. Enjoy!

Y/N(reader) w/ wings headcanons p.2

Ed Edgar saw you as a profiting opportunity.

Bastard only uses you for commercials at first

Wings sell shit, don’t they? Kids are into wings these days?

One day you get pissed and just punch him

He respects you after that…

He’s very loud, of course, and your ears tend to be sensitive

He tries to quiet down when he sees you make a face

It’s difficult because that… that’s just his normal volume

He talks about his son sometimes. Not to you specifically

He gets sad… you still don’t completely understand what happened.

Sometimes it feels like he doesn’t either

You instinctively wrap your wings around him for Safety and Comfort

He is a MAN who DOES NOT CRY but goddammit, he was close 

He enjoys your company

The Silver Shepherd thought he was gonna rescue you

He’s a superhero, he HAS to save you, right?

Nah, you’re the one saving him more often than not

He tries not to be jealous, but goddamn

Your wings are just. So big. And pretty

He’ll complain to you about his girlfriend “cheating” on him

You know the bullshit he pulls, but you listen because why not

He appreciates that you at least pay a little bit of attention

He doesn’t do a whole lot of hero work, but he usually brings you along

Just for a bit of extra support

More often than not, you’re doing most of the work

You let him believe he did something, though

You boost his very low ego, and so you get along

Derek Derekson was a little bitch

Also saw you as a profiting opportunity

Yelled sometimes when you messed up

You took deep breaths and tried to stay calm the first few times

Then you snapped, calling him a variety of... words...

He stopped yelling at you, but not much else changed

You got along well with Eric, and he appreciated you for that

He does care about his only living son, at least a little

You two don’t… talk a lot

He’ll watch you from afar, occasionally

You constantly encourage him to TALK TO HIS CHILD and GO TO THERAPY

You still don’t like him, and he feels the same way

But he’s… trying

Randall Voorhees thought you were badass

He wasn’t as used to magic and weird shit as the others

You were absolutely awesome to him

He’d never seen an angel before!

Even though he didn’t really KNOW that you were an angel

He just assumed and refused to change his mind

Harder to hide you wings in crowded cities, like where he lives

You spend a lot of your time with him cooped up in his apartment

He felt bad, so he rents a mountain cabin up in Albany whenever you visit

You two ski and snowboard look me in the eyes and tell me the bitch isn’t a snowboarder

He’s a construction worker, so he’s usually busy

You visit him on his lunch break sometimes.

The other workers claim to see you, but he’ll always deny it

He buys a pizza whenever you visit and you eat it together

You two are so cute it’s sickening

Yandereplier claimed you as their new senpai

They saw you, you had wings, you were nice

And now you are Senpai

You aren’t sure why you get a weird feeling whenever they call you this

Luckily, you don’t have many friends, at least none that they could kill…

They showed you their weapon collection to impress you

You were scared and also impressed

They take you to a cherry blossom tree near their house

You talk and hang out and eat lunch

They don’t call you senpai anymore and they talk to you normally

And you no longer stare at the blood on their uniform

Night Guard Mark prayed you wouldn’t try to kill him

He might have PTSD from Freddy Fazbear’s

Those animatronics left a mark…

It took a little while for him to trust you not to harm him

When he did, HOO BOY is he a chatterbox

He has so many theories about the Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza Chain

Dark’s told you not to talk about the actual lore. It might break his spirit

You get very worried sometimes

He looks like that one picture of Charlie Day. You know the one.

Sometimes he gets panic attacks

You wrap him in a cocoon of your limbs and wings to ground him

He likes you for that

You hang out, playing games and watching movies. No horror. Absolutely NONE

You can handle him, and he likes you

Dr. Plier was curious about you

He wondered how you felt about… everything

He asked if you were ok one day and you broke down

He felt guilty and bought you ice cream

He sees you as a sort of… psychological experiment

Like he asks you very strange and slightly personal questions

Ok, very personal, but he’s a therapist, what can you do

He eventually stopped the interrogation and talked to you normally

You get along fine, but it’s kind of the same situation as Dr. Iplier

Chef Iplier wasn’t really all that phased

You were surprised by this because… well… wings

But he just… treats you normal, for the most part.

Sometimes he’ll pet your wings, but only if you let him

He loves how soft your feathers are

He doesn’t make that his entire perception of you

It’s a nice change of pace

He tries to cook for you sometimes, but uh. It doesn’t go well

You’re still confused as to how someone can set a glass of water on fire

You mostly just order take out

You hang out like normal people

Which neither of you are, but you’re both fine with that

Paranormal Investigator Mark is obsessed with figuring you out

Nearly had a panic attack when he first saw you

He wanted to prove the supernatural exists, but he didn’t have a lot of evidence before

And then your mystical-ass came along

Like the Jims, he tried to get pictures, and they all ended up blurry

He threw a fit over it, and you felt kinda bad

You tried to take the picture yourself but it came out the same

He gave up after a while

He info dumps about paranormal stuff to you

It can last from 5 minutes to 5 hours

You do pay attention though, and that makes him happy

He takes you on investigations sometimes

You don’t do much except break shit with those giant wings of yours

He stopped taking you on investigations

Cooliplier is not sure what to think

You have wings! Great! There’s absolutely nothing he can do about that

Not the most normal, but not the weirdest either

He tends to put on a tough-guy persona around new people

You were a lil intimidated

Then you became friends and mans did a full 180 around you

Went from “Your daughter calls me daddy too” to “I’ll have her home by 9 sir”

His personality is sort of a mix of the two

Catch you both screaming the lyrics to Mr. Brightside at 12:00 am

Took you to a mosh pit once

You got kicked out cause of the wings

He felt bad, but you had fun

He teaches you how to dance and roller skate

You also go for rides on his motorcycle

Once you just started flying while he was driving and it was the most fun shit ever

You’re “buds”, as he often tells you

Goopiplier likes you a lot

They like having another not-completely-human creature to talk to

I mean, some of the others aren’t exactly human…

But they’re not the best conversationalists…

Then again, neither is goop.

They mention the Dark Gods ONCE and suddenly no one wants to talk to them…

But you do!! Yay!!!

You mostly just hang out, do whatever

Watch movies, play games, or just talk

They like to draw you

They’re not very good, but you keep them all anyways

Sometimes they do… rituals. While you’re around

You are… a little scared, but that’s okay!

You have sleepovers and act like teenagers

You mock the others and then giggle, getting louder as you go

They’re not that funny, but you had to be there

Elder Jeremiah is terrified of you

He nearly pissed his pants when he saw you

He thought he was finally going to have to pay for his sins

He started crying, and you panicked

Why the FUCK was this 20-something-year-old well-dressed man crying at you???

He dropped his bike and fell to his fucking knees and begged for forgiveness

You felt very uncomfortable with the whole situation

You told him to get up bc he was dirtying up his pants

He eventually stopped crying and you told him you were not an angel

Also not a demon, as you said when he asked

He avoids you, mostly, still thinking you’re gonna drag him down to hell

He stopped the uh. The stealing since you came around

He will hang around/with you sometimes to see if you “reveal your true form”

You haven’t yet, and never will, BUT WHEN YOU DO, HE’LL BE THERE

He does think you’re very nice, though

Preistiplier thinks you’re an angel sent to assist him

He is doing holy work, it only makes sense that He would send a helper

He was disappointed, to say the least

He then came to the conclusion that you lost your memory of being an angel

You couldn’t exactly dispute it, since you don’t remember

So, he takes you on hunts

You don’t do much except make a bunch of fucking NOISE with your WINGS

He’d hoped you’d smite the demons

Or at least scare them, but they know you’re not an angel

He still takes you on hunts because, he’d never admit it, but he… gets scared

You promised not to tell a soul

You confess your sins to him sometimes

They’re usually not what he considers sins, but he listens anyways

He thinks you are a good person, and he enjoys conversations with you

Heistiplier was just normal around you

Well… as normal as he can be

You’d enjoy his company a lot more if he didn’t have such a god complex

You still like him a lot

He likes you too

Even if you did refuse to rob a bank with him

He’s a very… exciting person

Though you don’t really want to be around him when he gets upset

The entire world literally seems to revolve around what he does

He’s a drama queen, and completely feral

It’s worrying at times

You two are normal friends

Playing video games, watching youtube, etc. etc.

You listen to his stories and wonder how he's not dead yet

But you can admit, he's really fucking funny

[soft-sunflower]

Flower of Evil Thoughts- Episode 12: Part 1

Okay, just when I think these episodes can't get any better than the last, I get CONTINUOUSLY proven wrong! How is this show SO amazing!? Okay, let's start with the recap and my thoughts.

WOW this episode really started off with a bang, didn't it?? I was floored how crazy unmother found out the real Heeseong, her real son, was a serial killer. I was legit creeped out by the fact that he kept commemorative photos of his kidnappings and killings, but what really fucked me up was the fact that he kept their fingernails. So NOW we know where the other sets of fingernails went... I guess Do Minseok kept the ones on the right hands and Heeseong kept the ones on the left hand. Just ughhh ewwww. This is seriously so disgusting. That really grossed me out. So, was unmother going to commit suicide? She held a blade to her wrist and then she looks out the window, and what does she see?? Heeseong... trying to bury a body in the rain. I mean what even??? This whole family has upped the evil factor. If there's any flower of evil blossoming? It's the Baek family.

And who's body is it!? None other than Do Hyunsoo! The man he just hit with his car! I mean REALLY!? He was going to legit BURY Hyunsoo alive??? This guy is the psychopath, this guy is the batshit crazy one, this guy is the serial killer. NOT Hyunsoo. It's kinda funny, I was talking to my husband and I said. "Well, the synopsis sorta got it right. Heeseong is definitely a serial killer, only it's the REAL Heeseong and not the fake Heeseong, which is Hyunsoo." We both were like "Yep. Heeseong IS a serial killer and did it right along with Do Minseok." Funny, that.

He’s so casual like “Oh don’t mind me. Just gonna bury this man I hit with my car alive. Go back inside.” So, ole Mommie Dearest over here goes all feral on her serial killer son and straight up stabs his ass declaring she’s scared of him. You know what, lady? I am too. He’s kinda terrifying. I swear if you gave that boy an axe and told him to go chop wood, he'd turn it around and do a Lizzie Borden on your ass. This family as a whole is a complete whack job.

Oooookay so we're back in the present now, and what do we have here??? Heeseong. Sitting up in his chair and guess what he's doing. SPEAKING. NORMALLY. None of that "I just got out of a coma and I'm slow" speech he'd been doing since last week. Yeeeeah I knew his bullshit he was pulling was a whole-ass act. Okay, so last week, when I saw the preview at the end of Ep 11 and they were all screaming about finding a buried body? I had a theory that it was going to be the maid's body they find, considering the way the crazy mother was freaking at out her wanting to know what all she knew. Now you have Heeseong being threatening with this lady. I'm getting death flags everywhere for her.

Oh look... creepy hospital trash dad is deep the blood cleaning Heeseong's car, phone rings and there we got trafficker man, Yeom Sangchul. Soooo, Heeseong owed him money and dad paid him off to cover his son's ass??? DUDE. What is WRONG with this family!? What is WRONG with these people!? They're legit messed tf up! And can they STOP trying to "take care of" Hyunsoo already?? The constant putting out a hit on him is getting frustrating. "Either Hyunsoo lives or we do." UM. You both are TWISTED old FUCKS who don't deserve life after all the crap you've pulled. Hyunsoo deserves life. He's more human than all of you. You don't, if that's how it's going to be. I'd love to watch them rot in prison.

YAY!!! There's our couple!!! Coming out of Hyunsoo's shop looking like a legit BADASS power couple!!! YASSSSSSSSS!!! And... what's this??? What?? Detective Choi wants a cup of coffee??? Weird... it almost seemed as if Jiwon WAS expecting some kind of Swat team out there to arrest her husband. Jiwon looks confused on what's happening, Hyunsoo is just quietly accepting it all. And when they go inside and Sunbae almost appears, reluctant and hesitant. He even thanks Hyunsoo for being the informant, which I did NOT expect. I knew there was a reason why I liked him from the start. He's redeeming himself.

Haesoo is really stunned over the fact that Jiwon knows the truth about Hyunsoo and who he is. And of course she's in a panic because she believes her brother left and so now would be the perfect time to turn herself in. Moojin tries his hardest to stop her, because obviousy he doesn't want to see her go to jail, but he's gotta stop being so pushy...

Sunbae has a great personality, but when he starts questioning Hyunsoo over the murder he doesn't waver. Hyunsoo straight up tells him he had no motive for murdering the village head, unlike Jiwon who's crying out that he didn't do it. That's right. Because he DID NOT. The look that the husband and wife give each other, Jiwon just looks stricken by the fact that after what they went through last night, Hyunsoo still won't tell the truth. That he was not the one who murdered the village head. Hyunsoo just looks at his wife calmly. His expression is unreadable. He may have just been silently pleading with her to please respect his wishes. This is what he wants. He doesn't want this for his sister.

Oh, Noona... not only was Hyunsoo's past so incredibly traumatic for him, but it was for you too. You've been deeply affected by this because of your overwhelming love for your brother and it's precious. It really is. It's heartbreaking watching him get thrown into repeated exorcisms at such a young age for something that was never even wrong with him. ALL of the adults in his life FAILED HIM. His father, the therapist, the villagers, and even his only friend along with his pack of cronies. They BRAINWASHED him into believing he was a bad person just like his father was, and it's HEARTBREAKING. It's so utterly HEARTBREAKING. I LOVE how strong-willed Noona delcaring she doesn't feel sorry for killing the old bastard who put this poor child through all of this.

They threw things at him, beat him, hurt him... And when they cut to Hyunsoo after being beaten, he just looks dead inside... it's so devastating knowing that they forced him into believing he was being possessed by his father's ghost, to the point that he saw his father's ghost. Now, maybe he really DID see his ghost,  but the fact that he was so brainwashed into believing these things? My heart literally ACHES for Hyunsoo... Noona is right. Moojin is NO better. He turned his back on Hyunsoo when he needed him most. Tied him a tree, beat the crap out of him, stoned him. And every single person in that town FAILED Hyunsoo. Hyunsoo was the only real HUMAN out of all of them. And that is SO DEVASTATINGLY HEARTBREAKING. Because he was so unjustly and unfairly FAILED by people he needed most, EXCEPT for Noona.

Okay, Sunbae knows something is going on. He knows that Hyunsoo claiming he killed the old man and how easily the weapon was found was just TOO convenient. He knows. NOW, I'm DYING to know who this one another witness was that said Hyunsoo wasn't a bad person? Was it Noona? Was it someone else? Because every single person in that village ostracized him, that we know of, asides from Haesoo. So what gives??? I want to know who it was... I'm just gonna place a bet that it was Haesoo who had her brother's back because she was the only one who ever did.

Oh.. oh Sunbae... you are 100% and fully fledged redeemed. REDEEMED. Don't imprison an INNOCENT man!!! I think he KNOWS Hyunsoo is innocent, and the look on Hyunsoo's face... he knows the Hyunsoo and Haesoo's childhood tragedy. My heart just twisted. Sunbae. T_T Sorry, but the fact that Sunbae is letting him go, simply by saying he isn't interested in Do Hyunsoo anymore, and that Do Hyunsoo is a good person... I swear I had tears in my eyes because of the hope in theirs!!! I was smiling and had tears in my eyes just like Jiwon because FINALLY!!! He can live his life, he can be with his family, he can love his wife openly and happily, he can raise his daughter with no fear, and... wait, hold up... it's too damn happy. Way too happy. Something bad is going to happen... I can feel it. Yep. Something is coming to literally fuck up their happiness and it's stressful. It really is.

OH GOD this SCENE. This next scene!!! I cried during this scene. I found myself sobbing because of the pure innocence of this scene alone. Our precious baby girl, Eunha!!! She's back!! And she's running and crying in his father's arms... You can already see the emotion on his face as he stoops down for his baby, and he's crying too... It's like years upon years of all these emotions that were built up and hidden behind iron walls are spilling out of him now that the floodgates have burst. Like he just can't help itself, and it's a beautiful thing. It's so good for him, it's cathartic and just what he's needed for so so long. All the years he spent locked behind that wall, believing he was something he wasn't, it's all been set free. He can FEEL. And he show what he's feeling without being told otherwise. He's free to love.

"Daddy! I missed you so so so much!!"

Oh, little sweetie, he did too. He really did. So very much. All the years he's spent watching you grow and raising you, all of those memories and feelings for you, you precious little angel, are welling up inside of him and bursting out of him, on top of the fact that he doesn't have to say goodbye to his baby girl simply due to the fact that he's Do Hyunsoo. That's why he's crying. From the day she was born, to each one of her milestones and young triumphs throughout her life are so important because he sees it all so differently now. When Jiwon't mother says "She acts like they've been separated for years" and Jiwon remains quiet? Because in a sense, they have. Sure, he's seen Eunha almost every single day of her life, but he hasn't really SEEN her til now because he had a heavy, dark veil covering the eyes of his heart.

He's seeing Eunha for the first time and feeling her with his heart, and i find that so overwhelmingly beautiful. Jiwon assures her mother that it's nothing when she worriedly asks what's wrong, that she's never seen him like this before. And Jiwon just tearfully smiles so gently and so softly at her precious family while they cry and embrace because she loves them so much. It's sweet how Jiwon's mother is concerned for them though lol. I wonder if she'll find out...? And how ADORABLE was it when Eunha told her daddy not to cry again because he misses her? She's such a precious little angel and such a good little girl. His kiss on her forehead was the sweetest thing too. What REALLY made me melt in tears was the fact that Hyunsoo says:

"Eunha-ya, daddy loves you a lot."

And Eunha's arm heart... just... GOSH. T____T And even though she tells her daddy not to cry, you can see him tearing up again as he waves bye bye to his little girl off to preschool. It's so beautiful and refreshing to see him finally finding his emotions and finding his feelings and expressing them so honestly. And his little kiss on her forehead. Just end me. I can’t get over how precious the moments these two share truly are. It’s beautiful. ♥

Wooooowwww, so Jiwon was planning on quitting her job as a police officer??? But here we have Sunbae trying to encourage her to seriously think about this decision, because he's right. Giving up a job like that could have a huge affect on her entire life. And to get to work and work like crazy because they're mad busy lol. Ah, Sunbae.

And I just can't get over Hyunsoo and Jiwon's love. I really can't. I love how holds her hand and strokes it gently with his thumb. She asks "What were you thinking about in front of the store earlier?" And BAM! I was right! He was remembering the very first time he ever held Eunha. I'm sure he probably wanted to cry the first time he held her because his heart was likely overwhelmed with all sorts of feelings, but he didn't know how and he couldn't figure them out. And then he says when he met Jiwon, every single moment of his life was filled with first times and I just... I can't... Jiwon has been the most beautiful, welcoming, warming and positive force in his life. If it weren't for her, he may not have ever began his healing process from  years upon years of trauma. I love the focus on their hands. I really do. Almost like he didn't want to let her go back to work, and even asking her if she'll be alright. Hyunsoo, you are such a wonderful husband to her. Goodness.

I do love how when Jiwon entered her workroom and the police chief snapped at her, Sunbae was quick to step up with the continued story of Eunha was sick and he sent her home, so she's not been made aware of the situation, which is half-true. Jiwon had NO idea that Yeom Sangchul busted loose and is on the run. Now, here's something interesting...

"How's your kid? Who's sick? Your first or second?"

WAIT... now why are they making it a point to show that Jiwon only has one child right now??? Is there... is that foreshadowing?? Could there maybe be a chance that Eunha might get a brother or sister in the future??? Or is that just my wishful thinking and overthinking it because the police chief just doesn't know enough about her as a person and that's what they're showing us? Hmmm... Well, here's hoping we get that happy ending with Jiwon pregnant and them having a new baby! *fingers crossed* lol Sorry. Just some Hyunsoo/Jiwon fanwishes. Anyway... I got a good chuckle out of the chief trying to cover his ass by passing out energy drink packets and of course Sunbae being his hilariously greedy self with wanting two and talking about the chief being cheap HAH! I laughed. And then Sunbae gets a call from Hyunsoo... WHAT!? What is going on now??? Wanting to talk where Jiwon can't hear?

So, Hyunsoo is still sitting at the front gate in his car and he's thinking back to something Yeom Sangchul said. "Think hard about it. Whom did you tell this secret to? Who do you think ratted you out to me?" Ooooo, I think Hyunsoo's onto something, though. I get why he doesn't want Jiwon to know, but hasn't he learned his lesson yet? Honey, things go south when you keep secrets from your wife. She's also a police officer. You do realize that, right? And she's a badass one at that. I get you're protecting her from knowing that someone is out to get you, but you gotta tread carefully love... you don't want to break trust between the two of you. You need her trust now more than anything.

Oh look, there's human trafficking trash man eating and the equal trash son laying in bed watching the news on his tablet. And her comes trash mom. Is he really still going to continue pulling off that whole fake slow talk "I just got out of a coma. Feel pity for me" crap? Please. We know he can speak just fine considering he did it earlier with the housemaid. Can he spare me the innocence? And why does he still seem to have himself convinced that Hyunsoo is going to kill him?? Hell, if anything, Hyunsoo will just want to help catch his ass and have him thrown in prison for the disgusting stuff Do Minseok did with him.

So, Moojin is going to play the noble idiot again once more for Haesoo by looking for Hyunsoo? Well, you don't gotta look too far, bro. He's a lot closer than you think. Also, the more I think about it, the more I'm with Moojin. Not because my heart is shriveling over him telling Noona to stop saying she'll turn herself in, but I agree. Sunbae let Hyunsoo go saying he has no interest in him anymore. If Noona goes to the police station now and outright admits to killing the village head all those years ago, there's also a chance that they'll all find out that Jiwon's husband is Do Hyunsoo. Sunbae might be willing to overlook that fact, but that doesn't mean the others will.

Side note, but Moojin, why do you think you deserve a SHRED of care from Haesoo after the shit you've pulled? Sorry but that got on my nerves. Stop comparing yourself to Hyunsoo and your importance to Noona. Hyunsoo is her little BROTHER. He's family. There's a HUGE difference. Jeez, Moojin. Stop being so pushy and clingy. She doesn't WANT to go home. She WANTS to go to the police station. You have no right to tell the driver where to send her. Ugh he's so frustrating sometimes. I have such mixed feelings about him.

Alright, so Hyunsoo and Sunbae are at a cafe now talking about the fact that Hyunsoo has a pretty good idea of who's put a hit out on him. That he'll give Yeom Sangchul a shit ton of money to kill him. And it flashes back to trash dad trying to talk Hyunsoo into leaving if he gives him 10 times the amount. WHY can't these people just leave him alone?? For fuck sake. Hyunsoo states it's just an assumption, but we know he's not wrong and he won't tell Sunbae who thinks the person is til he can confirm it for himself with Sunbae's help. This treading into some very dangerous waters.

Moojin, good grief why do you keep bothering her? We're all well aware you like Haesoo, but she isn't interested in a relationship with you or anyone else. She's at the police station, and it's kind of sad because she believes that Moojin is all Hyunsoo has left. She shows up and just about outs herself when Jiwon smoothly covers it up by claiming she's here to identify the human trafficking victims since it's connected to her father's serial killings.

Okay, so... I LOVE this scene. I LOVE their discussion on the rooftop. It's excellent because it's just what Haesoo needs to hear, no matter how harsh Jiwon came across, it was necessary. Haesoo wastes no time in admitting that she knows Jiwon knows everything, and that Hyunsoo had a very justifiable reason for living as Baek Heeseong. I do love how protective she is over her brother, and yet again, she admits to Jiwon that she killed the village foreman and not Hyunsoo. Haesoo, no... she does not think her husband is a dangerous person because they just spent the night before talking about literally everything. Hyunsoo told her everything he could possibly think of. Jiwon loves him unconditionally. She does not think her husband dangerous for a moment.

"Haesoo, Hyunsoo is no longer a little boy that you need to look after. He's the father of my child. He's my family. He's my person. Now, he has a wife who will stand by his side... no matter what happens. He told me his sister is a very kind person. Whenever something bad happened when he was young, he was always the first to be suspected. He told me you always went around telling people he's innocent. He didn't care what other people thought, but you were always the one who cried and felt upset about it. Because you're so kind, he thought you wouldn't be able to endure other people's criticisms. That's why he took the blame. He didn't care what other people thought about him. If you turn yourself in, he'll no longer be a wanted criminal. But he'll feel guilty and indebted to you for the rest of his life. I don't want that. So... please respect your brother's decision. And... you should be the one to feel guilty instead."

"I'm horrible, aren't I?" No, Jiwon. You are not. I won't lie, your words were harsh, but they had to be said. This was totally necessary. They absolutely had to be, because Haesoo needed to understand and know the importance in all of this. She needed to know that her brother is not alone. That he has a loving wife and family to stay by his side. Jiwon tells her that what they talked about today is that if Haesoo recognized any of the victims in regards to her father's crimes and that is supposed to say no. Noona cries and thanks Jiwon for trusting Hyunsoo. Because it's what he needs. A wife to love him, trust him and help him. Haesoo tells Jiwon that while she's still alive, she'll do everything she can to repay her... while she's still alive?? Is anyone else getting possible death flags from Noona...? I'm worried. Really worried about her. Like it has me nervous. If something happens to her after everything Hyunsoo did for her... I just don't even want to think about it.

[chat-noir-always-here]

I rewatch Miraculous—Mr. Pigeon

Behold!!! The episode that almost made me stop watching Miraculous.

No for real i think i got up and left the room first time around, this episode was so ridiculous.

• “You only have one day to work on your fashion piece.” Only a day? That seems kinda unrealistic when you take into account designing, gathering materials, whether or not you need to go out and buy any materials, the amount of time it takes to actually put all that together...

•WHOA Gabriel’s actually smiling in that pic Mrs. Bustier shows. Er, smiling-ish

•Pure cinnamon roll child seems proud this peppermint frappucino dickhead is his father (Gabriel ur hair looks like whipped topping and that tie doesnt help). BE GRATEFUL FOR SUCH A CARIBG CHILD YOU PRICK!!!

•Maaaaaariii chill the fuck out your overactive imagination and severe anxiety are getting the better of you.

•AHEM Gabriel has a purple bowtie in Mari’s imagination instead of that ridiculous peppermint scarf he uses to hide Nooroo’s broach???

•Adrien: appears out of nowhere

Marintette: jerks and flops away like a fish on dry land

Me: lol bye Marinette

• Adriens beuatiful face when Mari is talking to him (before she blunders and stumbles with her words) is beautiful

•Mari’s beautiful face when Adrien is telling her “you’re so talented Marinette!” and the subtle tremor in her eyes as they widen with her smile...☺️😊😘i love my beautiful, anxious mess of a daughter

•Mari: Follows Adrien with her eyes like an owl. LMAO.

•Chloe does not deserve Sabrina 😒

•Whereas Gabriel resembles a peppermint frap, Hawk Moth/Papillion appears to be the result of what might happen if Batman and the riddler had a baby

•Ramier, bruh, there is like. Zero. Fucking. Reason to be that upset over not being allowed to feed pigeons. For real. Go feed them on some rooftop somewhere if you must. No reason to let Hawk Daddy akumatize you over it...

...

...

...You know what? We’re not calling Gabriel “daddy.”

EVER. Again.

•Also Hawk-shitface, pigeon dude is your worst idea and you keep coming back to him. Seriously at least put some effort into your champions’ outfits. Youre a fashion designer for petes sake!

• wow this show really loves its skin-tight body suits, huh? Even when they look ridiculous.

•Sabrina how the hell much did you have to pay for a cellphone that lets you zoom in on a fucking sketch from dozens of feet away and score yourself a crystal-clear image???

•Sabrina: “We’re soooo awesome!”

Chloe: “We?”

Chloe does NOT deserve Sabrina.

•Arent real bird feathers full of germs and bacteria that cause diseases? And Marinette “im immune to bird flu” Dupain-Cheng just plucked that shit up off the ground and put it on her hat of all things. I dont know whether to be fisgusted or impressed.

•Chat “paint me like one of your French girls” Noir for the win everybody

• “Im allergic to feathers.” I came across a theory on tumblr once (cant find the OP) that this coulda been caused by Emilie wearing the damaged Peacock broach when she was pregnant with him. If thats true i would be pleased😏

•Allow me to channel Chloe for this comment: LB, CN, that disguise is about as convincing as Mr. Pigeon and Bubbler’s get ups are appealing. In other words, NO.

•Chat Noir moonwalking with a hat on—booiii got some moves. 👌👌👌👌

• “You’re the cat dont you eat [pigeons] for breakfast?!” No LB, Kitty Boi is a domestic kitty otherwise he’d present to you little dead things like my cat used to do before we stopped letting him go out. This is an awful joke but SPARE THE BIRDS, theyre just like Ramier—being controlled by a monster.

• “On the count of three my beloved pigeons will commence fire.” As disgusting as pigeon poop is i think they’ll live. Cant you come up with a better evil plan? Threatening to break the glass floor at their feet by having the pigeons stomp on the cage would be more effective. I’m not trying to help the villain, kaay? I just prefer my villains to use their head. Honestly Team Rocket is more intimidating than Pigeon Dude.

•is it just me or is kitty boi especially adorable in this episode??? 😻😻😻

• flock of pigeons put a dent ten times the size of kitty boi’s head in the door

Okay thats actually kinda terrifying. What woulda happened if that attack hit a normal person wearing no magical armor??? They’d be pecked to bits...

• CN: “I gotta get outta here before my secret identity is revealed!”

LB: “Yeah you wouldnt wanna let the cat out of the bag!”

CN: “...Haha very funny.” 😾

Dont dish out what you cant take, handsome boy.

•LB’s look of amusement as CN starts running in place for fear of detransforming in front of others is hillarious

•kitty boi if this hotel takes tips you should really give Jean-whatshisname one. That was the speediest, life-saving room service ever.

•isnt this just Chloe’s room??? Theres a ladybug pillow on the bed and everything. Why did the mayor send CN to Chloe’s room???

• “i cant wait my dear pigeon.” Hmm reminds of later on when Hawk Moth calls Nats “My dear Mayura.” Bruh if you INTO Ramier just ask for his phone number like a normal person, quit akumatizing him and eat a damn snickers

•LB: Time for a sneak attack! Oh no, my sneak attack failed cuz my partner couldnt help but sneeze with all these FEATHERS around.

HELLO, he just told you he was allergic to feathers???

•ugh them censoring out the punches with flashy screenshots is so LAAAME show me the VIOLENCE.

• “Cat Noir! Grab [the bird call!]” AGAIN he’s ALLERGIC TO FEATHERS. Just tie that yoyo to something to keep Pigeon dude in the air and smash it yourself.

• Gabriel is that teacher from Ned’s Declassified School Survival Guide who was never physically present in class and was only ever seen through a tablet or some nonsense

•Chloe getting busted my Marinette in front of the principal, Gabriel and Adrien is a great example of how PLAGIARISM DOESNT PAY are you listening art thieves lurking on tumblr, instagram and elsewhere???

•ahem Gabriel that sympathetic look you give a weeping Chloe is very out of character

• “youre the winner Marinette.” Not gonna check out Kim and Max’s hat? You could at least look at it, doesnt seem very impartial to pick Mari without looking at ALL the hats

•siiiiiiiiiighhhhhhhh

Girl they are BOTH allergic to feathers. How many blonde teenage boys walk around with a feather allergy? Quantum Masking or no Quantum Masking, c’mon you should be at least considering the idea theyre the same person from that knowledge alone.

Annnd thats all for now. This episode is more of a vent-inducing hate sink than enjoyable, save for the gushing waterfall of cute kitty boi moments it provides. I may do Stormy Weather later today to make up for it.

[valkerymillenia]

Umbrella Academy

season 2, episode 4

New episode, new post!

This was the other post I had written out that got accidently deleted so I'm writing it all again.

1993? And Lila was 4? TOO MUCH COINCIDENCE! I still stand by my theory that Lila is one of the 43.

Yes, she has a father but that could just be her mother's husband. It's just too coincidental that the show would make her exactly the same age as the Hargreeves for no reason.

Ah the red heels. Hi Handler. These heels are really pretty though, very wicked witch with the ruby slippers. Even that outfit kind of screams wicked witch meets Cruella de Vil 😏

Kill parents, adopt child. Interesting MO, Handler. Like an evil Bruce Wayne (does this make Handler Owlman? I know, I'm not funny).

Oh, Handler pulling a Reginald with Lila!

Except, you know, she actually gives Lila positive reinforcement and affection, unlike Reggie. But her training seems just as brutal and inhumane for a child (and possibly even more violent) as Reginald's...

It's curious and interesting, a nice foil. Handler succeeds where Reggie fails- creating a loyal and effective soldier will into adulthood- because she was willing to give the kid affection and compassion. Reggie saw himself as some sort of hero creating heros but he failed at the most basic and human thing that even the villain understood.

-The filmography in these training scenes is brilliant.

-Ah, that prom look is the same as half of my classmates when we graduated 🤣 down to the blue makeup.

I'm guessing Lila's "prom"/"graduation" was her first solo assassination?

Wait, Handler wants to protect Five...? What the hell is she up to now?

Talking about killing people like it's a fun hobby 🤨

Oh, so the Swedes are triplets? I suspected but I like the confirmation.

Oh, Handler is lying ~~~~ 🎶

She's definitely following her own agenda here and she's leading Lila into danger. The question is if she's going to undermine the Commission for revenge of if she wants to prove her ability to get promoted back into administrative ranks of the Commission.

Either way, this will not end well for Five.

Lila is going to end up having to choose between Diego and Handler, isn't she?

Five stays in the car to give Luther space... No matter what Five says he actually cares about his siblings' feelings, doesn't he? He's the most overprotective of them all and always has been. It's sweet.

Ah, Luther and Vanya bonding over Five being an asshole. ☺️

"very warm and cuddly father" 🤣

Of course Vanya figured out Five was sparing her feelings, because she's not dumb

Oh, thank you for the honesty, Luther! Gotta love that.

I'm actually really happy to see Luther owning up to his mistakes instead of trying to act like the flawless leader. I think he grew a lot after accepting that Reginald wasnt perfect and I'm glad to see that growth still happening as he learns how to be an independent person. I just hope his guilt doesn't turn into even more self-hatred.

"you had kind of a bad childhood" -understatement of the century, Luther!

Luther, you have pissed off the mobster, you moron. You're on big trouble now.

Dramatic wall punch! 🙄

"when you get angry shit blows up" 😂😂😂

"you're our sister and a member of the umbrella academy" - oh, now you want to include her? The irony of this is that it's the one thing Vanya wanted for the first 29 years of her life and if anyone had said it then, the apocalypse would probably have never happened.

🖕🙊🖕

"I wonder if it's too late to be un-adopted" -ah, you know you love them, Five

Honestly, Allison actually keeps her cool really well, if I went through that phone call I would have broken something.

Why the hell does Klaus want menudo first thing in the morning?? Ew...

Klaus butchering "the frog and the scorpion"... You were doing so well but ended up completely missing the point of that story, dummy.

Diego's stab wound is healing really quickly...

Wait, he's healing quickly and Allison doesn't have a neck scar... Plus Klaus is immortal... Hmm, I wonder if quick healing is an ability they all share? Though that would put Diego's scars (and maybe Ben's death) into perspective...

Does Diego wax his chest? Those pecs are real smooth for someone who spent over two months in a 60s mental institution. 😆

"we've all had the urge" 😂 and Diego's sarcastic laugh 🤣

Who's the 12th of the Magestic 12? Oh, I WONDER WHO THAT COULD BE??? Maybe a certain monocled asshole?

"Mamie pink" is Klaus's new nickname, I don't make the rules.

Klaus, you are freaking the boy out with all this new information...

Oh no, the homophobia 😡😡😡

You know what's more heartbreaking about this homophobic disaster? Dave is likely in the closet and this whole situation here and the hate his uncle is showing must be so painful to him, it would probably bury him even deeper in the closet...

Klaus... The punch... Oh, baby... 😢 Oh no, I'm going to cry 😭😭😭

Is Raymond really implying that Allison is a spy? Damn...

Just tell him the truth, Allison! How do you marry a person without telling them something so big about yourself??

Oh, so Klaus has been sober for 3 years... Interesting.

No, Klaus! Don't start self-destructing again! 😢😢😢

It must be so painful for Ben to watch this and not be able to stop it...

Oh shoot, the cult found him.

"prophet"? "holy wanderer"? Interesting.

Poor Klaus just wants peace.

They seriously couldn't get a suit for Five too? Is he not allowed to wear anything else?

Five is onto Lila 🎶

Luther, are you stress eating? Well, at least you're not going on a bender again.

Awww, Luther- Allison reunion. Cute. Please don't make it weird.

Oh God, the awkward small talk is back 😩

I'm glad Luther is being so mature about this. I like this dynamic better.

"Vanya is on a farm. And happy" and Allison finds the happy part weird. Diego in the "nuthouse" and Allison doesn't find that weird at all, even does that 'yeah, ok makes sense' face. Klaus "cult leader" and Luther isn't surprised at all, that little "eh" was so funny.

Lord, this family is mess.

"Doomsday" *awkward chuckle* -you guys are getting way too used to this.

"Diego, try not to do anything too stupid" 😆 ah, brothers.

Lila in red heels, like mommy... 😏

Reggie taught them ballroom dancing? And Handler had the same idea?

Um.... Ok, so new theories! Do Handler and Reginald know each other? Could Reginald have been in the Commission? I'm going to be thinking about this for a while...

Just let the girl lead, Diego. Stop being a little bitch.

GRACE?!

So mom!Grace is either a cyborg or she was modeled after this woman... Makes curious about Reggie's relationship with this lady.

Diego going through the universal horror every kid goes through when realizing that mommy and daddy are "together". 🤣🤣🤣 "I can't picture it on my head. That's nasty"

She didn't tell him her name was Grace but apparently it is.

Am I the only one getting weird desperate and co-dependant vibes from Sissy?

Oh no! Save the baby!

Holy shit! HOLY SHIT! Vanya's powers are incredible! The special effects in this scene are unbelievable!

Save the child!

How did his lips get blue so quickly?

THE RETURN OF THE MAGIC ALIEN LIGHTS! AAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

Ok, I need to pause to gather my thoughts... Ok, things I hope don't happen-please don't magically "fix" the disabled boy, and please don't make the powers transferrable (that's just lazy writing, don't rehash "Misfits").

However, other than that I'm just very curious what those lights will do to Harlan. Will they just save his life? Will he gain powers? Will he have some weird connection to Vanya now? I'm dying to find out!

Anyway, back to the ep.

Baby boy is ok!

Luther, did you think pissing off the mobster would end well?

Elliot just starting up at Luther in awe and visibly fighting not to poke him. 😆

HELL NO, LUTHER! NO DRUGS! DON'T YOU REMEMBER THE LAST TIME?? YOU GOT YOUR BROTHER KILLED!

Oh, Sissy... Poor woman.

There going to kiss, aren't they?

Melancholic music kicking in. Sad emotional talk. Sitting way too close. Yeah, they're going to kiss.

Aaaaaand there's the kiss! ☺️

But now I need to pause and digress again...

Yeah, Sissy's feelings for Vanya are not healthy at all. In fact they mirror Vanya's feelings for Leonard- she's unhappy with her life and clinging to the first person that gives her attention. She wants help, she wants to be rescued, she's touch and attention starved. She's co-dependant and emotionally manipulative.

I'm not saying Sissy is a bad person, she's not, she's a sad person stuck in an unhappy marriage, terrified of being abandoned (almost paranoid) and exhausted under a lot of pressure dealing with a disabled child. And then in comes Vanya, who is perfect with Harlan, so loving and kind and has nothing else to pour all her attention towards. Of course Sissy sees salvation in Vanya and is desperate to keep her.

I'm not saying Vanya and Sissy can't have a beautiful healthy relationship, they can, but not like this. Sissy is clinging too tight and using Vanya to make herself feel better and make her life easier. They both deserve better than that and I hope they get it.

I'm starting to think that all relationships in this season might be doomed to fail:

-Sissy and Vanya have a co-dependant and emotionally unhealthy infatuation and Sissy is married to a man that, while not great, still clearly loves her;

-Raymond and Allison have too many secrets between them that are causing a major rift, they can fix it but there's also the chance that Ray might not be able to accept the truth about her;

-Lila is a double agent using Diego to get close to Five, she seems to be developing feelings but the fact that she's lying about who she is and working for Handler is obviously toxic;

-Klaus is pining over a person that Dave has not yet become and while he only wants to save Dave's life, it's obvious there's too big an experience and culture gap between them for a relationship to flourish;

-Luther and Allison have become one-sided and less innocent and puppy-love than before, now it really is just creepy and unhealthy (whereas before it was understandable because they grew up together under an emotionally unavailable father and isolated from the real world, naturally they became attached and confused their feelings, their attachment wasn't healthy but it was justified and almost innocent... Not anymore though);

-we have no concrete proof yet, but it seems Ben MIGHT be pining over a girl that might not even see him, he's dead, it might be an interesting dynamic storywise, but it's not going to happen, it's unhealthy and unfair;

Some of these couples might still survive and become great, it's still really in the season after all, but they have a lot of growing to do before they get there.

Anyway.... Back to the episode.

Oh Klaus... Off the wagon...

Allison being a good sister and taking care of her brother. My heart ❤️

Luther, you idiot... Well, at least you're getting high in a safe environment.

Luther and Klaus are self-destructing, my poor boys.

"you are super weird" - Luther, you have no zero right to call anyone weird, have you looked in the mirror??

"the woman I love loves someone else" -the woman you love is. your. SISTER!

I really like poor Elliot, I hope nothing bad happens to him.

Jesus, that's creepy, Luther.

Didn't I say Reginald was the 12th? 😏

Roswell? Reggie probably has a vested interest in that.

Blink out of there, Five.

I love that Five's main move is always 'teleport onto their backs and go for the throat'.

Wait, why did Five's teleportation glitch???

The music!!!!

Wait, did Diego's aim just glitch too???

Could these power glitches be connected to Vanya's magic lights going into Harlan? Or could it be something about the Swedes? Or about Reginald's presence, seeing as he dodged Diego's power before? Hmm...

Oooh, Lila has to choose between Diego and her mission already? Interesting... Of course she chooses to save Five.

Badass Lila is amazing!

So she could have helped Diego after helping Five but instead she just walks away? Huh, unexpected.

Diego, you adrenaline junkie. Good moves though.

The ancient Greek is a surprise! I really want to know what Five said to Reginald!!! What did he say? I need to know!!!

Another great chapter!! Very emotional too!

I want more!!!

[screamingintosilence]

You Were the Greatest Thing (That Ever Happened to Me)

Songfic Writing Challenge Day 10

Terrible Things - Mayday Parade

Warning: Major Character Death

Jughead Jones watched in amusement from across the yard as his 16 year old son brushed a hand through his own dark locks, looking nervous and slightly sweaty as he stuttered over his words while talking to the beautiful red headed 15 year old daughter of Archie Andrews and Veronica Lodge.

To his chagrin, Betty had put her foot down during pregnancy and that's how their sweet, beautiful baby boy ended up being named Forsythe Pendelton Jones the Fourth. FP had laughed heartily when they told him, he knew it was definitely Betty's choice. But when their little guy came into the world, screaming, pink, and a head full of downy black hair, Betty had looked at him with a smile that said, “See? He's your son and I was right.”

And she was right, she was always right. The only concession she gave him when it came to their child's name was letting him pick out a nickname because “Betts, if that's going to be his name, we’re not actually calling him that.” And that is how Cooper Jones the Fourth made his entrance into their lives.

He watched as his son turned and ran towards him, smile splitting across his face and all Jughead could think was his much he looked like Betty in that moment. His eyes, his nose, his cheeks, they all came from his wife.

“Hey Dad!” Cooper was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Son,” Jughead smirked at the boy while raising the glass of sweet tea to his lips.

“Can I borrow your truck? I finally did it! I asked Jules to the movies and she said yes!” Both Joneses looked over to where the redhead girl was excitedly talking to her mother, the look on Cooper’s face one of adoration. Jughead smiled, it reminded him of how he must have looked when he first fell in love with Betty.

“Don’t stay out too late. You behave tonight, ok? And you treat her right Bud, got it?” The ring of keys rested on the older man's finger, waiting for his son to take it.

“He always does, Mr. Jones!” the young Juliet Andrews cut in, skipping over to them, not realizing how her words made Jughead's heart stutter and stop for a few moments before picking up again.

“Always! Thanks Dad!” Cooper grabbed the keys before interlocking his fingers with the petite girl next to him, both getting lost in each other as they walked to the front of the house where he had parked when they came over to the Andrews’. Neither teen noticing how tears brimmed in Jughead's eyes.

He felt a slim arm loop itself through his own at the same time as a heavy, familiar hand came to rest and squeeze his shoulder.

“B and I used to joke about this happening,” he heard Veronica softly say next to him as she too squeezed his arm, resting her head on his other shoulder. “We would talk about just how long it would take them, like how long it took for you two.”

The tears started to slowly fall. “He must take after me,” he let out a watery laugh. “I'm pretty sure he's been in love with her since I told him what love was. Probably took until reading his mom's words from when we were his age about how she wished I would just make a move for him to pluck up his own courage.”

The pressure from the hand his redhead best friend increased. “You were the very best thing to happen to her, Jug. Believe it. She glued us all together, figuring out in her Betty way just how this crazy jigsaw fit together.” He nodded, sniffling to keep from sobbing.

“She did,” he swiped at his eyes. “It's been nearly eleven years, but it still feels like yesterday, ya know?” He could see tears rimming Archie's eyes as Veronica let hers stream down her cheeks as they both nodded.

“Let's get you home, Jug,” Archie's arm wrapped securely around his friend’s shoulders as Veronica's hand dropped to his, holding it firmly. He might have always been friends with Archie, but it was Betty's doing that they had stuck together through even the toughest of times; and it was Betty who had brought the whirlwind that was Veronica Lodge into his life, even if it was begrudgingly at first.

--

It had been hours since the Andrewses had seen him safely home. He had pulled some of Betty's old journals from her last few days to read, a habit of his from the past ten years.

His was reading over her passage from the day she had told him the news, his heart breaking over every sentence.

I told Juggie the news today, it didn't go well. I had gotten the call this morning from the doctor that my results came in. It was devastating. Juggie and Cooper were out having a boys day with FP and I just didn't have the heart to interrupt to have him come with me.

Crying in the middle of a doctor's office without my husband definitely makes it on my top 5 most embarrassing moments... But I won't have many of those moments left to make, I guess.

I've been in tears all day, but there's nothing to be done about it. I was told that I can still give it a shot to fight this, but the cancer was progressing so rapidly that my chances are very slim. The oncologist said that my counts have jumped exponentially and that I'm already Stage 4. Stage 4 cancer at 33….

Cooper is only 5, what will Juggie do? He's the most amazing dad, I know he'll be ok, but God, I'm far from it. There won't be chances to see him grow from my tiny little squirt to being as tall as Jug. There won't be any Homecoming, Formal, or Prom pictures of me pinching his cheeks. I won't get to meet the person he'll fall irrevocably in love with and I won't get to tell him that that's how it was with his father.

I know Jug will do all of these things, and he'll be wonderful and amazing and everything or baby boy needs. It's just so hard to come to terms with one’s own demise.

And Jug, God, Jug. We won't have our 90 years together like we joke about. I don't know if we'll even have 1. God what I would give for the assurance of just one more year together.

I love him more than all the stars in all the galaxies. He was everything I ever needed, always there for me from the beginning. God, I don't know if he even knows how much I love him, how much he means to me.

I-

The front door opened as Jughead hastily wiped the tears from his cheeks and dabbed at the page of Betty's diary gently, careful to try and not smudge it even more from where his past years and even hers had fallen.

His 16 year old son, his and Betty's pride and joy, waltzed in with a look of having his head in the clouds. Jughead smiled, though some rouge tears still fell free.

“You guys have a good time?” His question came out a little choked, causing Cooper to come to, taking in the scene of his father on the couch, nose and eyes red, with his mother's journals in front of him.

“Yeah, the movie was good. Jules was just…” His eyes got a little dreamy at the mention of his best friend, now potentially girlfriend. “You ok, Dad?”

“Yeah, just…” Jughead trailed off.

Cooper sat next to him wrapping an arm around his shoulders, shoulders that used to carry his son on them for hours, but now felt like they carried the world, especially in moments like this. “Just missing Mom?”

Jughead tried swallowing past the lump in his throat, wiped his hands over his face, and nodded. “Yeah. She would have been so proud of you, Cooper. You were her baby boy, and now you're all grown up.”

Tears filled the young man's emerald green orbs (ones just like his mother's) as he ducked his head to gather his thoughts.

“You know, she was terrified of being a mother, scared after the way she was raised and seeing how crazy your Aunt Polly. But God, Cooper, you made her so happy. She took one look at you and it clicked. She looked at me and said, ‘This is it, Jug. This is how it was always meant to be. I was always meant to be his mommy and you his daddy.’ And like always, she was right. I was always meant to be your dad. You made it so easy, you were such a wonderful baby and child. You have me the strength and will to keep going, Buddy.”

Jug pulled Cooper into a tight embrace, kissing the top of his head. He could feel the tears staining his shirt from where his son's head rested.

After a few moments of silence, the younger man pulled back, wiping away the tears that lingered on his face.

“Dad?”

“Hmm?”

“Can you tell me about the time that you first kissed Mom again?”

Jughead laughed. “Sure, Bud. Well I had went over to her house one afternoon to see how she was. We had snuck into The Sisters of Quiet Mercy, where your grandparents had put Aunt Polly when she was pregnant with the twins, the day before.” Cooper was nodding along. Jughead had told him this story so many times now but it was one of his son's favorites.

“We got caught by your grandmother, and she was so furious that she kept your mom home from school without access to her phone. So naturally I grabbed the ladder from your Uncle Archie's dad's garage and scaled the side of the house to your mom's window.” He gave his son a stern look suddenly, “Don't even think about doing that with Jules, you hear me? Your aunt would kick my ass.”

Cooper snorted, “I won't, but Aunt Veronica wouldn't do that. She loves me too much to care,” he grinned mischievously.

Jughead jokingly cuffed his ear, “Let’s not test that theory, shall we?” The young man laughed, settling down one more.

“So, anyways. I could see your mom through the glass looking very serious and contemplative, kinda like how you get sometimes. She was still trying to solve everything in that beautiful blonde head of hers, and I just knew that that was my moment. I had loved her for years already, but seeing her be Nancy Drew,” he looked down at the floor, his mind conjuring up the image of his love. “She was something else, Coop.

“I knocked on her window to get her attention, thinking I was so clever and smooth. I remember the first thing I said was ‘Hey there Juliet, nurse off duty?’” Cooper snorted again. “Yeah, it was as cheesy as it sounds, but God, your mom? She just brought that mushy side out of me.” He grinned at the memories.

“You know, that's where Jules got her name.”

“Wait, what? You never told me this. How?” Cooper looked bewildered at the new information.

“Yeah. After the complications of your birth made it so we couldn't have any more kids, your aunt decided that she would use the name for us. She loved your mom so much and knew how much she wanted to name a little girl Juliet that Veronica said she'd name her daughter that to honor her. Jules was originally going to be named Elizabeth but your mom insisted that they go with Juliet once you were born.”

Cooper sat, stunned that the love of his life got her name from his parents love story.

“Betty desperately wished she could watch the man you would become, she's so proud of you, Bud. I just know it.” Cooper's and Jug’s eyes glistened.

“She's so proud of you too, Dad.”

“Thanks, Coop. Now, enough sad. Tell me about your date,” giving his son the biggest shit-eating grin.

“Daaaad-”

[basic-banshee]

Mind Games (part 6)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | [completed]

tagging: @cactus---daddy  @ughthatsprettygay  @its-the-ultimate-fangirl-101 @alive-alive-alive @their-lego-hearts @cant-stop-shipping-people @katterpillar @thatbitchnora @emo-turkey @rachelaredhead @thestrawberrymusicnerd @mirkwoodelven @violetsummers23254 @nyx5683​ @fucking-echo @its-okay-that-ur-not ** sorry if ive forgotten someone**

BAZ

In the fourth year I had this recurring dream — or fantasy, more accurately — that Simon and I would find some common ground to unite us, and we’d become friends. Allies. We’d work together for some greater goal and through that process we would, inevitably, become best friends. By the fifth year, I imagined we’d fall in love. By sixth year, I dreamt that we would tolerate each other.

I never thought my sixth year fantasy would come true.

I always assumed that the common cause would be fighting the Humdrum, or saving Watford, or solving a mystery. I never thought the thing that would bring us together would be being gay.

Or rather, “not straight,” as he repeatedly insists. Apparently thirty minutes of reflection is enough to make Simon realise he likes men, but not enough to make him comfortable with a queer label. I will never understand him.

But, despite telling him I’m gay, he’s still sticking by his theory that the hat’s selection was based entirely on sexual preference, and not because I’d jump him in a heartbeat.

“We can just say it was me that caused us to get paired,” he said on the way back to the room. “I don’t know if your family knows or if you want them to know, or if they’d be disappointed or something shitty.”

“They would have to acknowledge it in order to be disappointed,” I answered, but I didn’t argue with his offer. If he wants to be the openly bisexual Chosen One, I’m sure as shit not going to stop him.

“Sorry your family is weird about...you know,” he said when I got out of the shower the next morning. I stared. Apparently we were still discussing this.

“Is the Mage going to be bothered?” I asked him instead of answering. He paused in the middle of picking out a shirt. (He has four identical shirts. Why does he do this every day?)

“Why the fuck would the Mage care who I like?” he asked, surprised. I shrug (I’ve picked it up from him.) (I hate it.) (But it’s a gesture that says so much, while saying nothing.)

I didn’t have an answer.

Apparently Watford isn’t as fascinated by Simon’s sexuality as I am, because there wasn’t really any backlash. No one cared. No one said anything. And so I assumed it had blown over. This unfortunate occurrence had passed, we had both survived, and things could go back to the way they were.

Except they didn’t.

“How long have you known?” he asked as we walked down to breakfast one morning.

“Longer than you,” I responded.

“Right but like, how long?” he pushed as he got in line behind me for coffee.

“I’m going to rip your tongue out,” I responded.

I keep waiting for him to figure out I’m in love with him. I had thought this would become blindingly clear: the hat put us together, he knows I like men, and I called him fucking exceptional. I practically put a sign on my forehead screaming “I’m in love with Simon Snow, set me on fire and laugh” and yet somehow he’s completely missed it, and is still trying to take responsibility for it.

I don’t understand the mental leaps he had to do to convince himself that somehow my intense hatred for him fucked up the spell. But then again, I don’t understand anything about the way Simon thinks.

He’s so stupid, and yet, I love him.

SIMON

“Have you ever fancied anyone?” I ask Baz. I’m lying on my bed with my feet up on the wall, trying to study, but I can’t. It’s warm out, and we’ve got the window open, and it’s an afternoon that should not be spent trying to teach myself Greek. Honestly, if I don’t have it by now, I’m never going to.

“We’re not talking about this,” Baz snaps back from the other side of the room. He was working, but I saw him give up a few minutes ago, and he’s just been staring out the window ever since.

“So that’s a yes,” I say, throwing my book to the floor. “And considering how prickly you’re being, that means he goes to Watford.” It’s a shot in the dark, but I like to throw out wild theories sometimes to see how he reacts.

“This is not even remotely a subject that’s up for discussion,” he responds, putting in his headphones and turning back to his book. I hate when he does that.

Somehow he managed to bring in an illegal mobile. I was surprised last week when he used it in front of me — normally I would have jumped at the idea of finding something that could get him in trouble. But lately I’ve been focusing a lot less on trying to catch Baz doing something shifty — maybe because he’s now doing the shifty things in front of me — but maybe because I don’t think I care.

And I think… I think I know he’s not a monster. He’s just a boy. A shitty boy, who can be an extreme prick. But still, just a boy, who got outed in front of his classmates. Who listens to Radiohead and eats crisps at night. Who has siblings, and gets bored while doing his homework.

Lately it’s been hard to be in the room with him, because I’m hyper aware of his presence. I always am, always have been. I always have this list in my head about him. Usually it reads something like 1. What is he plotting? 2. Is he going to hurt someone? 3. Where is he going? 4. Does he know I’m following?

But right now the list is reading more like 1. Does he fancy anyone 2. Has he ever kissed a bloke before? 3. What does kissing a boy taste like? 4. I wonder what colour his eyes are right now.

Staring at the back of his head, as he bobs slightly in time to his music, I wonder what he’s listening to and what his hair feels like.

“My money is on Niall,” I say, even though he can’t hear me. “He’s kind of fit, isn’t he? Or maybe it’s Gareth. I’ve seen the way you stare at his belt buckle.”

“There’s literally no way to not stare at it when he’s shoving it in your face,” Baz snaps. I guess he can hear me. “Now shut up or I’m throwing you out the window.”

“Have you ever kissed a bloke?” I ask. Because I guess this is what I think about now. I don’t know when this started, or why. Part of me wonders if I’m only thinking about Baz like this because we both like blokes, and some part of me is reacting to that.

But then part of me thinks I’m only thinking about Baz like this because I’m finally getting to know him. He let down some walls — not many, but a few — and now...I guess he doesn’t seem that scary.

“Get up,” he snaps, slamming his book closed and advancing on me. He’s trying to look terrifying, but the edge of his mouth keeps turning up. I think it was always doing that, all the way back to first year, and I just always mistook his smiles for snarls.

“Why?” I ask calmly. I’m still lying on the bed with my head hanging over, and from this angle he’s upside down.

“Because I’m chucking you out the window.”

Normally I’d growl, and start to get worked up, and we’d end up in a fight on the stairs. But instead I just grin at him, and I see the smallest hint of a smile on his face in return.

And I think I want to kiss him.

And I think, possibly, he might want to kiss me.

The whole “exceptional” thing aside, there’s small things. Sometimes I catch him looking at me when he doesn’t think I can see him. He’s been a hell of a lot nicer to me since the psych lab, and he even helped me with homework once.

But the big sign was the time I walked out of the bathroom after my shower, and he had a full metal breakdown. I’d done it on a whim — I didn’t think through it all, just dashed out with my towel around my waist to grab my shirt — and he tensed up so much he broke his pencil in his hand, and then his face went about as red as it can get.

So yeah. I think there’s something there.

Neither of us is going to do anything about it though. He sure as shit isn’t, at least. But I guess I’m the brave one, of the two of us. So if it is going to happen…

I guess I’m going to have to nut up.

Crowely, we’re fucked.

BAZ

“We could pretend to be dead,” he says glumly, his feet dragging as we walk across the courtyard. For once, Simon might be on to a good idea. I think I’d rather be dead than go to the next Magickal Psychology lab tomorrow.

“It’s required. For a grade,” I snap. He looks so dejected that I want to throw my arm around his shoulder and spell him happy.

“I wish the Humdrum would attack,” he mutters. I sigh and hold open the door of Mummers House.

“It will be fine. We’ll just go in, find out what the control question is, and lie,” I tell him as we trudge up the stairs. He pauses on the middle landing and stares at me.

“Lie?”

“Yes, Snow, lie,” I snap when we enter the room. He throws his bag to the ground and collapses onto his bed in a dramatic heap, and a small contented sigh escapes him when he shoves his head into the pillow. “For example, I am neither allergic to cats nor colourblind. And yet I have successfully gotten out of those experiments by lying.”

“You’re not colourblind?” he sputters, turning his head to look at me. The stricken expression on his face makes it seem like I’ve just turned his world upside down. “I thought that’s why you always wear black,” he mutters, then turns his face back into his pillow.

It’s the makings of a lazy afternoon outside. It’s warm, we’re on the verge of a weekend, and somehow Snow and I have spent the entire day together thus far. We ate breakfast together, talked on the way to class, and actually got scolded by Miss Possibelf for laughing during her lecture. It’s been perfect.

So I sit on the floor between our beds with my back to the windowsill and tip my head back just a bit so it’s resting against the ledge, and close my eyes. I like this spot because it allows me to feel warm without being in direct sunlight, and it makes me feel like a bit of a sleepy cat. I never would have sat here before Snow and my’s strange gay truce.

“Put on music,” he mumbles sleepily from his bed.

That’s another thing we do now: we listen to my music. I’ve been using my mobile with him around — I only have to listen to music and text Fiona — and I figured he would just ignore it, consider it a casualty of our strange new tolerance of each other. But then one day I was doing work and he just came over and picked it up. I almost kicked him out of reflex, but he just squinted at the screen, put it down, and shrugged. “I want to see what you were listening to,” he said. He started doing that every time he walked by, picking up my mobile and running his stumpy freckled hands all over it (Crowley, I’d kill to be my mobile) and then one day he goes, “You can play it out loud.”

And now we listen to music.

I barely glance at the screen as I hit play on whatever I had up last, and pull out my wand. “Come Mr. DJ won’t you turn the music up!” I cast, and the speaker on my mobile grows louder, unleashing some Radiohead song on our room. I throw the mobile on my bed then close my eyes. Maybe I’ll give in to the cat metaphor and take a nap.

My head’s tipped back and I’m on the verge of truly falling asleep when I feel a small puff of air on my cheek and hear Simon whisper, impossibly close, “Baz.”

My eyes fly open and he’s there, he’s right there, his unexceptional blue eyes staring into mine, and I can’t look away, even though there’s no spell holding me here. Just him. Just Simon. His face is centimetres from mine and there’s no possible explanation for why he’s this close, except for —

“Do you remember that question from the experiment about dying that night and what you would regret not doing or saying?” he asks. I can feel his breath on my lips because he’s that fucking close, and the soft rumble of his voice is reverberating through me. I nod, slowly, because this feels like some kind of hazy spell and I think that quick or sharp movements will dislodge it.

“I said I’d regret not having killed you,” I whispered. His lips — fuck, his lips — quirk up and he smiles at me. It’s ruinous.

“I said I don’t really have regrets,” he whispers back. And then he tilts his head. “But that’s not true. I regret that I haven’t done something.”

Aleister fucking Crowley he’s being so cool. When did he get so cool? He’s going to, I know that’s what he’s doing. I know that’s why his head is tilted and he’s leaning even closer. This is going to be it. He’s going to kiss me or kill me, and I’m happy for either. I’ll take whatever he offers, just—

Why isn’t he doing it? His mouth is so close, I can see it, he’s closed his eyes, and he’s just…. Here. Is he waiting? He keeps dipping closer and closer, his mouth ghosting along mine, then he pulls away, and I’m going to explode. I’m going to scream.

“Simon,” I snarl, because I’m ready to fucking kill him, and his eyes pop open just as I grab the back of his neck and kiss him.

I hear — no, I feel — him hum against my lips, and then he’s doing something with his chin, and he captures my bottom lip in his, and it’s—

It’s sweet. It’s soft. It’s kind and gentle and everything that we aren’t. Everything that I never imagined we could be. He’s kissing me like I’m something precious, like I’m something sacred. No one has ever treated me like this before.

“Simon—” I start as our lips break away a bit, but he just makes a shushing noise and leans in to kiss me again. He’s on his knees in front of me, his hands planted to the ground on either side of my hip.

“I know, I’m exceptional,” he whispers, then kisses the corner of my mouth. I laugh — I can’t help it. This is the moment I’ve waited for my entire life, and I feel drunk off of him.

I want more.

“Let’s just—not overtalk this. Let’s just do this, yeah? I want to do this, all of this, the whole thing, us, let’s just do it,” he says, then flicks his tongue over my bottom lip. He could probably have asked me to set myself on fire after that and I would say yes. I have no idea what he’s talking about — snogging? Sex? Dating? I don’t know. I don’t care. I’ll do anything if he’s involved. I try not to think about what he’s suggesting, and instead I just turn off my mind, like he would. He’s gotten pretty far in life so far, there’s got to be a benefit to it, right?

“Absolutely,” I mutter, bringing my hands up to grasp his hips, and it’s like some kind of sign or permission to him, because suddenly his hands are in my hair and he’s gathering it up in chunks and pulling on it slightly, wrapping it around his fingers as his nails lightly scratch my scalp and it’s a sensory overload. I push him away, but his hands are still in my hair, he’s really got a strong fucking hold on it, and so we both go kareening backwards and he lands on his back and smiles up at me as he laughs breathlessly.

I go for the mole on his neck like a target.

“You’re exceptional too,” he whispers. He’s wriggling beneath me, his whole body tensing and relaxing as I kiss every mole and freckle I can find. There’s two hiding under his collar, I know, and so I’m focused on pulling his knotted tie off so I can get to them.

“Of course I am,” I snap back. His tie is really, truly, astonishing tangled. Does he just hang himself every morning in the process of getting dressed? I should just set it on fire. It would serve him right.

“I think that that stupid spell must have known that I—” he’s saying, breathless, as I work at the knot. This useless piece of clothing is keeping me from his Adam’s Apple and there is absolutely no bigger injustice in this world right now.

“Simon,” I snarl. I’m angry at his tie, and I’m taking it out on him, but I don’t care. Nothing matters. “Shut the fuck up. It paired us together because I’m obsessed with you, and I’m going to set you on fire if you don’t learn how to tie your tie like an adult.”

His smile blinds me. His eyes scrunch at the corners and he reveals all his teeth — not perfect and uniform, utterly unexceptional, just like his eyes, yet endlessly adorable — and it’s a smile full of joy and surprise and more than a little mischievousness.

“Just get my clothes off,” he says, and it comes out with magic even though it’s absolutely not a spell. It’s some kind of fucked up horny compulsion, and I feel myself pulled back to the tie, ripping it from his neck, my fingers running under the buttons of his collar and popping them. I feel out of control, ruled by a force that’s not me, and it’s terrifying.

But it’s giving me the courage to do what I’ve wanted to do for years.

“Sorry, sorry,” he gasps. He’s seen the panic in my eyes. “It does that sometimes, my magic. When I feel… a lot. Do what you want! You don’t have to!” he gasps out, and I feel the compulsion lift.

My fingers keep working at his shirt though, and I can’t stop myself from giggling. It’s not funny — he just forced me to do something with magic, I should be horrified — but this is surreal and I feel like I’m drinking in the galaxy everytime my lips meet his skin.

“I guess Greg’s fucked up experiment worked,” I say between laughs. His breath gets faster as I kiss at his collarbone, and he frowns at me.

“Don’t,” he stutters, then shakes his head. “What the fuck Baz? Don’t talk about Greg,” he pouts. “Greg can get stuffed for all I care.”

“But it worked, didn’t it?” I say, nuzzling at his neck. He growls, grabs my shoulders, and turns me forcefully, so that I’m on the ground he’s above me. This is a first — I’m always above him. By at least three inches.

But then he grins.

“He can never know,” Simon says, and I nod.

“Absolutely fucking not,” I agree, and lean up to meet his mouth again. He laughs against my lips and pushes back at the kiss. I can taste the smoke of his magic in my mouth. It’s going to be there for the rest of the day, I know. Not even brushing my teeth is going to get the taste of Simon out.

Maybe psychology isn’t the worst.

[btsismy6thkink]

BTS REACTIONS: You saying something to your friend and they overhear you

(Some smut may occur however it’s not too visual + fluff and a little angst)

Disclaimer: It may suck but i’m working on it :)

Jin:

I wish he would just take me on the kitchen counter you know?

Hearing you say this from inside of his own bedroom hurt, he had always been afraid of having sex outside of the bedroom however hearing you say this gave him a push to at least try to be more spontaneous when it came to your sex life.

He walked inside his bedroom seeing you on the bed talking on the phone with whom he could only assume was your best friend. “Do you want some lunch?” He said this not as confidently as he wished he had but enough to get a response from you. “Sure” that was the only answer you could give him being scared he had in fact heard you talking about your sex life to a girl he had never met in person. You decided you might as well hang up and go talk to your boyfriend after 10 minutes had gone past and he still wasn't back with the sandwich you anticipated him making. When your reached the kitchen you couldn't help but admire the man you loved with your whole heart. He was making your favourite food, giving you a hint to why he wasn't done cooking. 
“So you’re trying to butter me up? what did you do now Seokjin?” you couldn't hold back your laugh knowing he was just trying to show how much he loved you. Jin didn't answer instead he turned off the stove and walked over to you, pushing you against the counter, giving you a reason for letting out a faint moan. He looked at you for a few seconds trying to find a response in you to his new found confidence and action he had never done before, but the moan was enough to make him kiss you full of passion but more rough than he had ever kissed you before. He broke the kiss after lifting you up onto the counter staying just a few centimetres away from your lips “I’m not ready to fuck you where i cook our food and where the members can catch us, but making out is a step up right?” He looked at you searching for an answer but all you could do was sit there as you were more wet than ever, because of his newfound rough persona.

Yoongi:

Lately he is just lazy you know? Couldn't he just choke me or something?

He turned off the music in his headphones and as he did it was the perfect timing as you said these words. He didn't know exactly how to respond, sure he had been busy working and not as dominant as he was in the beginning, however he would have never thought you would want him to choke you. He took off this headphones not saying a word and walking to the door of his studio to lock it, incase of a member making a surprise appearance. You look up from your phone as you were face timing your best friend and noticed what yoongi was doing.

“Yoongs? why are you locking the door?” it was as if your best friend knew what was going on because suddenly the line was dead. “Why didn't you tell Daddy that he was neglecting his princess?” as he walked closer to you, you just spread your legs revealing the loss in panties while only wearing one of his black t-shirts. He raised an eyebrow at you while licking his lips. “You don't tease me princess, its the other way around or did you forget?”

He went closer to you undoing his pants before commanding you to suck his dick. “Yeah that’s right princess, make daddy feel good before he can make you feel good”

J-Hope:

When i watch him at dance practice, i just want to fuck him then and there even if the other members are there

He was not supposed to hear this, but he did. You were sitting in the living room of the apartment thinking the boys were all out for dinner, because you ‘felt sick’. What you hadn't notice was Hoseok walking inside just minutes before you said this sentence out loud. “I’m sorry Y/N but i’m not into publicly having sex with my girlfriend, it would make the rest of the boys feel bad for not being as good as me” he laughed, you jumped up surprised that he was even here, quickly hanging up on your best friend. “You heard that?” you said trying to figure out if that was 100% what he was referring to, however you knew it was a stupid question that he had already answered. “Yes, Jagiya i heard it” He smiles his normal goofy smile while saying it, “you could have just told me you wanted me to take you into the bathroom to satisfy your needs”

You started to blush not knowing if he was serious or not, seeing as both you and Hoseok never openly talk about this kind of stuff. “Take me now?” you said looking at him with a serious expression. Him reacting by quickly smacking his lips onto yours.

Namjoon:

He literally wont even try to be rough with me, like he thinks i’m too fragile or i wont like it? I just want him to smack my ass is that too much to ask?

Namjoon didn't actually hear this conversation, but your best friend being Taehyung whom could not for the life of him keep his mouth shut mentioned this to Namjoon doing a songwriting session. He didn't really know what to do with himself, except for punishing you for talking about your sex life with his band mates. He excused himself from the session about an hour into it and went to find you. Since the time was 11 pm and you usually went to bed at 9, he knew exactly where you would be. He slowly opened the door, looking at your beautiful and peaceful self already fast asleep. Instead of waking you up, he decided that maybe he should wait until the morning to make you regret the words that had left your mouth earlier that day.

Jimin:

You know how i thought he wouldn't be able to make me want to call him daddy? well theory was wrong but now i’m trying to fight saying it in case he get weird about it.

Jimin didn’t know how to respond overhearing you say this while you were getting ready for your date night clearly talking to someone on the phone, especially when he heard another voice stating that you should drop it and just call his name instead of daddy. He however had a thing for the word daddy making him instantly hard, just by you saying “but the word daddy makes me hornier than ever” He couldn't take it anymore so he started to walk back and forth hoping you would soon walk out of the bathroom wearing the red dress you had been eyeing which he had bought you for your 4 month anniversary. When you finally came out of the bathroom you met a pair of dark eyes, which had earlier today been the reason you had to wear converse instead of heels. “Yes babe?” “Babe?” he said questioning your choice in nickname, “Don’t disrespect me like that ever again” With this he walked up to you pushing you against the wall next to the bathroom door, while kissing your neck making you whimper out a “we will be late” not truly caring about missing your reservation. “How about daddy makes sure his baby girl gets treated nicely before leaving to go anywhere” he said not even giving you a chance to reply before he had move down, now eating out the only thing he was craving for dinner.

Taehyung:

How does a pregnancy test work again?

A sentence a man would not like to hear from his girlfriend next to him. He wasn't sure why you would just blurt it out with him being next to you but he was suddenly terrified and going over the last time you had sex. Did he protect himself? yes, did it break? no? then why would you need to know this. You looked at him wondering why he had stopped writing on his computer seeing his blank stare you knew exactly what he was thinking. Not ending the call with your best friend you kissed his cheek follow by saying “I want to take one for fun, calm down Tae i have my period? you know this” you laughed a little before continuing your conversation with your friend.

Jungkook:

I’m so over him, i swear i wish he would just get out of my life and understand my hints.

He heard you saying this while walking inside the kitchen, you talking to Jin about your feelings? He didn't know if he should say something but he couldn't just keep quiet. “If you want me out of your life so much Y/N maybe just tell me?!” he didn't realise the tears forming in his eyes until one was on his cheek.

You quickly turned around looking at Jin to Kookie, then back at Jin and then back a Kookie. You looked at the tear on his cheek quickly standing up from the chair you had been on watching Jin cook dinner. “NO!” was all you could say in the moment but quickly got back to the right state of mind seeing your boyfriend looking broken hearted. “Kookie i was talking about my ex, he keeps contacting me, i love you so much please believe me” That was all you had to say to have a now sobbing Jungkook hugging you tightly. “I can’t lose you Y/N you're my light please just always talk to me, i will get rid of your ex.”

[arcticfoxbear]

Walk a Little Straighter Daddy

Spoilers

Somewhere between “Don’t hurt anybody, ever.” and “Help me.” lies the answer of how to belong. But how is an alien robot suppose to find that point? 

“The robot is watching me,” John Robinson muttered as he handed a cup of lukewarm coffee to his wife.

“Eh?” she replied as her hand mysteriously came up and hovered right next to the mug, seemingly unguided by her eyes.

John took a moment to smile as he placed the container into the most beautiful hand in the world, nope, in the universe. She pulled the mug under the consol with her and there was the sound of brief sipping before she contorted her arm to place the still half full mug on the consol.

“Can’t I freshen that for you?” John asked.

“Zero waste. Coffee is a luxury now. Got to set a good example.” Maureen said between grunts.

John mouthed along to the words and smiled fondly at the woman who was still upside down in the guts of the ship. He was pretty sure she had superpowers. Echolocation in her fingertips maybe, specifically tuned to find coffee cups. He was pretty sure humans shouldn’t be able to drink upside down either.

“Well then you shouldn’t leave your coffee sitting around,” John scolded her.

“I had an idea about the integration,” Maureen explained, “and there!”

She attempted to wriggle out of the confined space. John offered her his hand and she accepted it with a smile. He might have deliberately put a little too much force into the tug. Or maybe she intended to end up sprawled against his chest, smiling coyly up at him. He definitely intended to lean down a place a quick peck on her forehead.

“What was that about the robot watching you?” She asked as she wiped the grease off her hands, on the thighs of his pants but he wasn’t complaining.

John frowned as he tried to make sense of the odd behavior he had been noting. He tried to frame it in the same language he gave his after action reports.

“He’s been watching, following me,” he said.

“And this is different from how he usually watching everyone how?” Maureen asked.

The question might have sounded flippant, even mocking from anyone else but his wife sounded generally interested. She wanted more details.

“When there are more people in the room he keeps his face focused on me,” John explained. “Even Penny noticed it. When we are alone together he gets close. He was hovering over my shoulder sometimes but I told him to back off and he just watches from a distance now.”

Maureen took a few steps back and leaned against the bulkhead. She nodded thoughtfully. “When are you alone with him?”

“Mostly after Will has gone to sleep,” John explained. “I think that the integration,” he waved at the blue tendrils that showed in the exposed human wiring, “has given the robot the ability to keep watch over Will from anywhere on the ship.”

“That is my assumption too,” Maureen admitted. “I’m still surprised he lets himself get that far from him.”

“Anyway,” John continued, “Sometimes copies how I move. Sometimes he’ll help with whatever chore I’m doing, if I ask him to, but mostly he just, watches me.”

Maureen looked down into her cup and then back up at her husband. He tilted his head to the side.

“You’ve already noticed,” he said softly.

She nodded slowly.

“Yes, I have.”

A small, almost smile pulled at the corners of her mouth.

“You don’t seem too bothered,” John pointed out. “Which means you have a theory.”

“We know he and Will are connected. That he responds to Will’s feeling and urges.” Maureen said.

“Yes, but not so absolutely now since Smith mucked that up,” John replied.

“Yes.” Maureen gave a sigh and glanced up at the ceiling. “When we lost him the second time. After he fought off the other robot do you remember that long EVA you and Don did?”

“Scraping ash off the hull for about fourteen hours?” John said with a grimace. “Pretty hard to forget.”

“Well with you men out there,” Maureen waved towards the ceiling, “and Penny and Judy going over first aid protocols Will and Debbie and I had a chance to really talk.”

“Debbie is a great conversationalist,” John commented.

“Will told me how hard he had struggled with teaching the robot to be a good person,” Maureen’s lips quirked up at the last word. “How first he made the robot promise to not hurt anyone ever, and then told him to fight back against the moth chomper at the signal light. He said that after those mistakes now he is terrified to give him any orders at all. Especially after telling him to walk off a cliff.”

“So what does this have to do with the robot watching me?” John asked when she stopped talking and returned her attention to her coffee.

“We know that even without specific orders the robot learns through observation,” Maureen said softly, her eyes coming up to lock with John’s.

He felt something like anticipatory dread tighten his stomach.

“We know that he still is guided by Will’s desires,” Maureen said, “and impulses, even if they don’t have the absolute hold on him that they once did. We also know that the robot is trying to figure out the same problem that Will is, appropriate use of force. How to balance being a protector with being a member of a community. Or as the real psychologists put it, how to play the metagame.”

“Well good luck to him,” John muttered. “The US military has been trying to figure that one out for centuries.”

Maureen let out a soft laugh and glanced at him in patient exasperation over her coffee mug.

“What?” John finally burst out.

“The robot takes its cues from Will,” Maureen said softly. “How do boys learn how to balance aggression and cooperation?”

“By watching their fathers,” John said easily.

The answer had been drilled into him in long ago premarital counseling, his sacred duty to his offspring.  Be the kind of man he wanted his sons to be. Be the kind of man he wanted his daughters to bring home. The words came easily and fell into the tightness in his gut like a lead weight.

“The robot isn’t taking orders from Will anymore,” Maureen summarized after downing the last of her coffee. “He’s making his own decisions, and right now he’s gathering data to inform those decisions. He’s learning, adapting, watching.”

“Watching me,” John said.

Maureen gave him a sympathetic smile and slipped her arm though his.

“For what it’s worth,” she said softly. “I think they’re both going to turn out fine.”

[ghostbustermelanieking]

luminosity

part of the half-light universe, set post miraculous and the ending scene of chapter 15. 

They find out when she has another nosebleed. It's after dinner, William curled sleepily in Mulder's lap while they watch Jeopardy. She's working on grading papers, lost in the scratch of her pen and Alex Trebek’s voice in the background when Mulder says something that doesn't start with a cocky, “What is…?” “Scully,” he says, terrified.

Scully looks up, confused. “What…” Mulder motions to her nose, face sheet-white. She brings her hand to her nose and feels the trickle of blood.

At any other point in her life (in either reality), this particular ailment likely would've made her blood run cold with terror. But she feels curiously calm. Somehow, she knows what it is. “It's okay, Mulder,” she says, reaching across the cushions and taking his hand.

His eyes are wide; he reaches out and touches her face. “Scully, what if it's…”

“It's okay,” she repeats. She gives him a small smile before turning and reaching for the Kleenex.

“Mama?” Behind the wad of Kleenex she's pressed to her nose, she can see William staring at her in a similar way to how Mulder is looking at her, eyes wide with fear. “You okay?”

“Yeah, sweetie,” she says, voice muffled by tissues. “I'm fine.”

William crawls off of Mulder's lap and onto hers. “You have a boo-boo?”

She pinches her nose and lowers the wad of Kleenex. “Sort of.” She wraps her arms around her son. “But I'm okay now.”

William kisses her cheek at the corner of her nose. “Better now.”

“That's right.” She kisses the top of his dark head and looks past him to Mulder.

Mulder is looking at her with less panic, though it hasn't completely faded. “Scully, you don't think it could be… like last time?” he asks softly, motioning to William where he can't see because he's got his face buried in her shoulder.

“I do,” Scully says calmly, rubbing their son's back. It makes sense now that she thinks about it: the nausea in the morning, the period she'd missed last month. She'd been autopsying on a massive serial killer investigation that lasted nearly a month, and had chalked everything up to stress. Somehow, she hadn't even considered the possibilities, but now. Now…

“We need to find out,” Mulder says stubbornly. He grabs her hand from William's back and holds on tight. “We need to find out right away.”

She would argue with him, but he's clearly focused on his goal, unable to give up on it. “Okay,” she says. “Why don't I go read Will his story and you can go on?”

Mulder nods, pressing a kiss to her knuckles before letting her go. She stands, scooping up William and holding him on her hip. “You're getting too big to be held like this,” she says to Will, smoothing his hair.

“Not too big!” William wriggles in her arms. “Not too big, Mama!”

“Too big for Mama, maybe,” Mulder says, and Scully socks him in the arm. He stands and leans down to kiss William. “Good night, buddy.” He ruffles his hair. “I'll see you in the morning.”

“Night, Daddy,” says William. “You did really good in Jeopardy.”

Mulder laughs. “Thanks, Will. It means a lot.” His eyes meet Scully's. “I'll be right back,” he says softly. She nods.

She tucks William in, reads two books and kisses him goodnight, leaves the door cracked just like always. She finds Mulder in the kitchen, strangling a Walgreens bag in his hand. “I got it,” he says abruptly, shoving it at Scully.

“Thank you.” She takes the bag and sets it on the counter. “It's okay, Mulder, really,” she says soothingly, putting a hand on his jaw.

“Are you sure?” He's apprehensive, practically bouncing.

“I'm not, but we'll know in a few minutes.” She motions to the bag on the counter. “And besides that, this feels different than when I was sick. It feels the same as it was with William.”

His eyes widen; he looks down at her stomach, still flat under her overlarge t-shirt she stole from his drawer. “It does?”

“It does,” she confirms. She leans forward and kisses his cheek. “It's okay, Mulder. Go check on William. I'll be out in a few minutes.”

When she's done with the pregnancy test, she sets it on the counter, sits on the floor and counts silently, fingers tangled in her lap. She hopes, she hopes. She pictures the pink positive sign in the little window. She hasn't thought about having more kids since William was born, but she's certainly never been opposed to it. Some part of her always wanted William to have siblings. And Mulder… Mulder has wanted more kids for years now. She moves a hand to cover her stomach, thinks of the last time she did this, in the other place: in a shabby motel bathroom, crouching on the grimy tiles, terror coursing through her, turning to relief as the negative sign had popped up on the little stick. She feels none of that now, only anticipation. She has her son, she's not going to send him away again. She has Mulder and they are happy. They're a family, the three of them, and she wouldn't mind it becoming four. She hopes it will.

She checks her watch, reaches for the test where she left it on the counter. Smiles.

Mulder is waiting for her when she comes out, looking down at his shoes. His head shoots up as she exits, nervousness dancing across his face. “Scully?”

She grins at him, handing him the test. “Remember how you wanted another kid?”

His eyes light up and he gathers her up in his arms, hugging her tightly. “You're… you're pregnant?” he says into her hair. She nods into his shoulder, arms tightly around his neck. He laughs, elated. “That's amazing! That's amazing… Scully…”

“I know,” she whispers, pressing her nose into the side of his neck. Her heart is pounding so hard that she thinks Mulder must be able to feel it. That the baby must be able to feel it. The baby, she thinks and smiles, tightening her arms around Mulder. He cups the back of her head, tipping it back and kissing her face again and again. She giggles wildly, smiling so much that it hurts. “Mulder,” she whispers, fingers curling into his hair. “We're gonna do this all over again.”

“I know.” He kisses her forehead, her nose, her mouth. “Maybe without the UFO risk this time.”

She laughs, kissing him again. “That's the hope.”

He gathers her closer, chin on top of her head. “Scully,” he whispers. “We're gonna have another baby.”

“I know,” she says into his t-shirt, and smiles again. They're going to have a baby. Everything is different in this universe, and they are going to have a baby.

---

They tell William a few days later, and he is excited, especially at the prospect of eventually having a new playmate. Melissa sends congratulations and a muffin basket with Monica to work. There is excitement from both sides of the family and it is dizzying, although the whole thing is considerably less dramatic than the last time Scully found out she was pregnant. Mulder is there when they find out, for the first time, and there are no abductions or UFOs this time. There are no visions, this time, no dreams of their future child telling her what's real and what isn't. This baby is a complete stranger. No underlying guilt or panic, just excitement and the scariness of being new parents without the underlying fear that they will lose this child, that it will all end badly. Just happiness.

Scully notices that nearly four months after they find out is the anniversary of Mulder's abduction. She doesn't realize until sometime after William has gone to bed. Mulder's gone on a case and Monica had called to say that they were getting on a flight home a few hours before, but the nerves still rise up when she remembers the date. She tells herself that this universe is different, that he's coming back this time, that it's going to be okay. She sits up and watches TV late into the night, her hand pressed against her stomach where the baby is moving. When he comes in the door, exhaustion written on his face, she doesn't get up and rush to hug him in relief. She takes his hand calmly as he sits beside her and leans over to kiss him gently. “Miss me?” he teases, hand moving over the slight roundness of her stomach.

“You have no idea,” she says, smiling softly.

They bicker over names, over whether the baby's a boy or a girl, over paint colors for the baby's room. Scully has something of a theory that Mulder picked this apartment because of the extra bedroom across from William's room that they'd turned into an office. In the end, they end up moving most of the items into Mulder's office and give the desk to Samantha. (She got a degree in journalism and is pursuing a job in investigative journalism after a brief stint freelancing for the Gunmen. Mulder likes to joke that it's ironic that his sister wants to be a reporter, the sworn enemy of law enforcement. Samantha claims it's revenge for all the teasing when they were kids.) William insists on helping paint the baby's room, which ends in the only way a situation like that possibly could: with William and Mulder both covered in paint and tiny handprints all over the wall. Scully can't stop laughing. She takes at least half a roll of pictures. Mulder kisses her in the midst of the bare bones of the crib and leaves green handprints on her white shirt.

Scully has nightmares in the last few months of her pregnancy--not nearly as vivid as the flashbacks she'd had in the early years of her partnership with Mulder (here), but still awful. (Mulder theorizes that it has something to do with her pregnancy. She's not entirely sure.) But still: winter of 2001 she associates with Mulder's death, Mulder's gravestone cold under her palm and grave dirt under her fingernails, and William kicking furiously, kicking for the very first time as she'd crouched beside Mulder's grave and she'd sobbed, pressing one hand to her stomach and the other to the stone. She has nightmares about Mulder gone, William gone, and wakes up gasping for breath.

Whenever this happens, Mulder kisses her forehead, wipes tears from her cheeks, whispers, “I'm here,” over and over again until her breathing slows and she feels anchored to earth again. She grips both of his hands and presses her forehead into his shoulder; he hugs her tightly and she remembers where they are.

William comes and crawls in bed sometimes, and she is relieved every time it happens. He likes to talk to the baby, likes to recount his day excitedly as he curls between them. She breathes easy with Mulder and William's breaths right beside her and the baby kicking furiously under her palm. “She's as restless as her father,” she says to Mulder one nightmare-less night, smoothing William's dark hair absently as he sleeps between them.

“You don't know that it's a girl,” Mulder says sleepily, grinning at her.

“Mmm. I know,” she whispers. “Trust me, Mulder.” Mulder's hand migrates to the spot where the baby's foot is fluttering and Scully drifts off to sleep, warm and dreamless.

Their daughter is born in March of 2001, a freezing Saturday. They have to leave early in the morning, as soon as Samantha comes over to take William to Baltimore, and Mulder makes her take his coat as they drive to the hospital, his fingers white around the steering wheel. Scully focuses on breathing, her hand on her stomach.

They haven't decided on a name yet; they've been bickering for months now, and Scully tries to keep it going, breathing in short gasps, teeth clenched and voice sharp. Mulder has more or less given up at this point, trying to dodge her provokes and holding her hand. He lets her squeeze his fingers as she pushes, kisses her temple as the doctor holds up the baby, dark-haired and squalling. “We have a daughter,” he whispers. “Scully. You were right. We have a daughter.”

Tears flood her eyes as the doctors lay the baby on her chest; she cups the baby's wet head under her hand and sniffles. “Hi, sweetie,” she murmurs. The baby whimpers, blinking up at her with huge, dark eyes that remind her of Samantha. Mulder is trembling, offering his hand to the baby and letting her curl her small hand around his pointer finger. Scully is shaking, too, tears trickling down her face; she kisses their daughter's forehead tenderly. “We've got you,” she says. “We've got you.” The baby fusses, waving an arm. Scully kisses her again, overwhelmed, holding her close to try and keep her warm. A tear hits the top of her head as Mulder strokes the baby's tiny back.

The nurses come and take the baby to clean her up, and Scully immediately misses her presence. She delivers the placenta quickly, and leans back into Mulder’s warmth as soon as it's over. He kisses her damp hair again, arms wrapping around her from behind. “We did it, Scully,” he says.

They are both watching the baby in the corner. Scully rests her head lazily against his bicep, eyes tracing over their daughter again and again. “What was that name you liked?” she whispers.

“Which one?”

“The one,” Scully says stubbornly. She wishes she could remember what it is, but her brain is scrambled, she can't think. “You know. The one. It's perfect for her.”

Mulder's quiet for a minute before offering, “Lily?”

Scully sniffles, smiling. “Yeah,” she says. “That one. Lily. It fits her.”

(Later, she will seemingly change her mind: when Lily is in the nursery and they are both supposed to be napping, breaking hospital protocol for Mulder to be curled around her on the hospital bed, she pokes him hard in the arm, snapping him out of the brink of sleep. “Lily Scully.”

“Hmm,” Mulder murmurs. “You don't like it anymore?”

“It's annoyingly phonetic, Mulder, what were we thinking? I can't believe you talked me into this.”

“If it bothers you, she could always be Lily Mulder,” he offers, eyes still closed.

“Don't be ridiculous,” Scully says, disgusted. “God, and don't get me started on Lily and William. It's a good thing they're four years apart, because otherwise everyone would think they're twins.”

Mulder opens his eyes lazily. “No one's going to comment, I'm sure…”

“Oh, god, people are gonna want to call them Lily and Billy. Or Lily and Willie.” She sounds genuinely worried and annoyed. Mulder, even in his tired state, finds it slightly adorable.

“We made a pact that we'd only ever call him Will or William,” he reminds her. “Remember? No more variations on Bill, we agreed.”

“Oh, no one will listen to that,” Scully says with disgust. “My grandmother called Bill William and Charlie Charles for her entire life. Even though she knew they hated it.”

He pushes hair behind her ear. “Do you want to change it?”

“No,” she growls. “She's a Lily. She is. I'm just saying that it's annoyingly phonetic.”

He kisses her forehead slowly and she leans into the embrace. “You know,” he whispers. “Lily Mulder is still on the table.”

“Shut up, Mulder,” Scully snaps. And that's it.)

(When they bring Lily back for feeding in the middle of the night, Scully holds out her arms eagerly. After feeding her, she cradles Lily on her chest, stroking her downy hair. “She's a Lily,” she whispers to Mulder. “She is.”

“I know, honey,” he says, overwhelmed by the sight of Scully and their daughter. He reaches out to stroke Lily's cheek and she yawns, hand curling into a fist. Scully doesn't protest the honey.)

Mulder spends the night in the chair beside the bed despite Scully's protests. “Force of habit, Scully,” he says, squeezing her hand. “Get some sleep, okay? You're gonna need it.”

Lily falls asleep in her father's arms. Neither of them can take their eyes off of her. Scully tries and fails to sleep, her cycle thrown off by too many uncomfortable nights of insomnia spent on the couch. (“I didn't know insomnia was a contagious disease,” Mulder had joked beside her and she'd shot him a dirty look fierce enough that he'd gone to check on William.) She lies on her side, eyes glued to their daughter. “I feel so lucky,” she says softly. “That we got a chance to know her… in the other place, we would've never…” She can't finish. She has a lump in her throat. She swallows it back and holds Lily's little hand in hers.

“I know,” Mulder says quietly. “I know exactly what you mean.”

Lily Scully sleeps peacefully, and Scully is so grateful. She's more grateful than she ever could've imagined. The sun streams in the window slowly, creeping in through the blinds, and their daughter sleeps through her first sunrise. The world has never seemed brighter.

i said i’d never write any further in this universe, but if i’m being completely honest, that was mostly because i wanted mulder and scully to have a second kid and i couldn’t pick a name for said kid. i started writing in this universe again when i finally settled on one. 

continuing my hypocrisy, this is somewhat a lead in to a potential sequel? i have an idea that i’ve already written a little bit of, and if i can get far enough into it that i feel secure about finishing it, than i’ll start posting. though i live in something of fear of ruining the original with a sequel, i’m having a lot of fun working on it as a side project. 

anyways! i hope this was enjoyable and not original-ruining.

[myhauntedsalem]

Can Children See Ghosts? 17 Spine-Chilling True Stories That Prove They Do

Have you ever found your child talking to “someone” when they were alone in their room? Is it simply an active imagination or could it be a visitor from beyond the grave?

For most parents, when their child tells them about their new imaginary friend, they simply put it down to their child’s active imagination. Completely normal… right? Well, I wouldn’t be so sure. It’s a widely held belief that some children can see and connect with those who have passed on. A popular theory is that we’re all born with the ability to connect to the other side but, as we grow up and become more cynical and disbelieving of all things unknown, that ability disappears. The following chilling true tales of imaginary friends and unseen visitors in the dead of night might go some way in proving that our children can and do communicate with the dead.

Parents beware, you’ll be checking under the bed and in your closets after reading these horrifying supernatural encounters.

1. THE BELIEVER

I believe that there are happenings on this earth that cannot be logically explained. I’ve always been a little skeptical, but I didn’t completely denounce that ghosts exists.

However, I’m starting to think they are definitely real, and that little kids can see them.

Yesterday, Sunday, I volunteered to watch the little kids of my church while their parents were out volunteering. Our church meets in the community center, so that’s where I was watching the kids — one baby, and two 2-year-olds – a boy and a girl. And you are right, our church is not very big.

After the center cleared out, it was just me and one other volunteer. She had the baby in a side room, trying to put him down for a nap. I had the two-year-olds in the main room.

I had a “weird feeling” all day, and kept feeling like there was someone standing behind me, but chalked it up to being alone in the building. The kids and I were sitting on the floor and rolling a ball back and forth to one another when the boy asked if we could throw it instead. I said yes and we stood up. He ran towards me and threw the ball just out of my reach. It went behind me. I did not hear it bounce.

The kids looked at each other and started giggling. I whirled around and saw the ball suspended in midair for a split second before falling to the ground. The kids just kept laughing. They started pointing and saying what sounded like “the man! the man!”

That was all the “paranormal” that occurred yesterday. The kids didn’t say anything about “the man” for the rest of the day. It freaked me out, but I wasn’t scared. I just wanted to share.

2. IT WAS JUST A DREAM

My daughter used to tell me about a man who came into her room every night and put the sign of the cross on her forehead. I thought it was just a dream. Then my mother-in-law sent over some family photos. My daughter looked right at the picture of my husband’s father (who has been dead for 16 years) and said ‘That’s the man who comes into my room at night!’ My husband later told me his father would always do the sign of the cross on his forehead when he was young.

3. DADDY, WHO’S THAT MAN?

When my daughter was younger (maybe 2 1/2 years old) she slept in her crib in the room next to me and my wife. One night she was stirring and maybe a little frightened, so I went in to get her and brought her to our room. She was wide awake now in our bed and not scared at all now. She was looking wondrously at the foot of our bed saying “look at the lights, the sparkles….” Kind of playfully she kept mentioning “the lights”. Then she said “Daddy, who’s that man?” Pointing directly at the foot of our bed.

It was definitely unsettling.

We had bought the apartment from a very elderly couple who passed in the apartment a few months earlier. Probably never forget that.

4. THE CAPTAIN

A parent of one of my students told us in a meeting that she was concerned because her son (7 years old) talked about an invisible ghost who would talk to him and play with him in his room. He said the ghost was called The Captain and was an old white guy with a beard. The kid would tell his mom that The Captain told him when he grows up his job will be to kill people, and The Captain would tell him who needed to be killed. The kid would cry and say he doesn’t want to kill when he grows up, but The Captain tells him he doesn’t have a choice and he’ll get used to killing after a while.

I was always creeped out working with that student after that.

5. MY COUSIN TRACY

When my niece was about 4 she had an imaginary friend, which I don’t remember the name of. She would blame things she did on this imaginary friend but also talked about how this friend would watch Scooby Doo with her. One day I thought, why don’t I find out more about this friend. So I asked her to tell me about her friend. And she said, “She’s a she and she’s dead.” And I said okay, “Does she have a job?” and she said, “She does what my Daddy does!” Which is that her imaginary friend was a cop. Okay. So then I said, “Where is your imaginary friend a policewoman at?” and she said, “Right next to where my daddy is a policeman.” And I said okay. But then she said, “I met her when I was in my mummy’s belly. She touched me when I was inside.”

A few months before my niece was born my cousin Tracy had died. She was hit by a train. She loved watching Scooby Doo and had a ton of memorabilia. She was also a cop. She was a cop in the town that is right next to the one my brother-in-law is a cop in, my nieces “Daddy.” My niece’s imaginary friend was my dead cousin. There is no other way she could have known all that at the age of 4.

6. EMILY

when my sister was probably about 6 or 7, she had an imaginary friend named Emily. She told us Emily lived in her closet, wore an old black dress, and had long dark hair and she was the same age as my sister. My sister played with Emily constantly. My parents started noticing my sister acting weird. Just sitting in the middle of her room whispering to Emily quite a bit and acting a lot more distant towards them. I remember a very specific day, my brother was walking by her room and my sister was sitting in the middle of her room….but she turned around and hissed at him. He was scared shitless. He told me it didn’t even look like my sister. My parents ran up to her room and i could hear my sister just screaming and screaming as loud as she “Get out”.

I have no idea what happened in that room but I ran to the bottom of my stairs and the screaming stopped, I saw my parents holding my sister crying their eyes out, she was sobbing as well. I’ve asked her about it today. She’s 24 now. She told me that Emily used to tell her to do horrible things to herself. She actually used to wake up on the roof and not remember how she got there. I’m not kidding. Apparently, Emily absolutely hated my parents so she turned my sister against them. She hates talking about it so I never brought up that specific night.

This all happened at my old house. When we moved into a different house, Emily was gone. I’m not making any of this up. My sister’s little friend was a really big deal to my family and messed things up for a long time. I’m just relieved we left that house.

I’m not making any of this up. My sister’s little friend was a really big deal to my family and messed things up for a long time. I’m just relieved we left that house.

7. JESSICA

A little after I was born, my sister Julia had an imaginary friend named Jessica. She was Julia’s friend for a long time, when things started to get a little weird. At first my parents shrugged it off as a normal occurrence, but after a while they began to believe that our house was haunted .One night as my parents put me (about one years old) to sleep, I begin to cry and point at the corner, my mom was still in there and began to try to comfort me, but I continued to cry and point at the same corner. All of the sudden, my sister walks into my room and points at the corner and yells “Jessica stop it!”

Immediately I stop crying and Julia says like it is completely normal that “Sometimes Jessica likes to put on scary masks and scare people”. My mom who was understandably freaked out stammers to my sister “Tell Jessica that if she can’t play nice, she can’t play here at all”.

A couple weeks go by and Julia tells my Mom that “Her eyes turn green when she is mad and her voice gets deeper”. My Mom didn’t know how to respond to this and just said “ok….”

Eventually Julia outgrows her “imaginary” friend and stops playing with her. A year and a half later my little sister Abbey begins to talk, she then goes on to tell us about her friend that no one else can see. She then tells my mom about how her eyes turn green when she is upset. I remember this distinctly because she dropped a pan and it scared me. She asked Abbey what her name was and she said…

“Jessica.”

8. THE BOY IN THE TREE

My folks’ farm surrounds a cemetery, and my dad and my niece were walking down there. My niece (4) looks up and says “What’s that boy doing up in that tree?” There was no boy, but she insisted there was and could describe him.

9. YOU’RE DOING A GOOD JOB

My wife and I overheard my two-year-old daughter on the baby monitor wake up on Saturday morning and say “what? OK, I’ll tell her” then get up and come into our bedroom and told my wife “Mary says you’re doing a good job.”

Mary was her grandmother that she was extremely close too that passed away.

10. THE MAN IN THE DOORWAY

When my nephew was born, ten years ago now. Around age 2/3 He’d wake up in the middle of the night and when my sister and her fiance went to settle him down he’d be staring at the corner of the room, or at the open doorway saying there was a man standing there, that he came and talked to him at night. 

Sometimes he was scared, sometimes he was calm, but my sister was terrified!

11. MY FRIEND JOE

Not my kid, but something my mum said I did when I was little.

I had this imaginary friend named “Joe” – was pretty normal imaginary friend stuff to begin with, my parents would ask about him and I’d respond with something like “I like Joe” “He has curly black hair” “He likes to play outside” nothing interesting.

Until one day I come out with “Joe has to work a lot, but Joe’s boss doesn’t like him.” when asked why, I responded with “Oh, it’s because Joe’s black.” As if it was obvious. Now this wouldn’t have been weird at all if I hadn’t grown up in a very small all-white town. And I was about 3 years old, I didn’t know (or rather, hadn’t been taught) that racism was even a thing.

This continued on for a while, I’d mention Joe now and then, sometimes talking about what he did for fun, or his favorite things, other times mentioning that his boss hits him and shouts all the time.

After a few months, I go up to my mum one day and have a conversation that went something like this: “Joe’s really happy today. His boss isn’t coming back” ‘Why?’ “He’s dead” ‘Oh yeah? How did he die?’ “He hung himself from up there” (as I point up towards the attic door).

I don’t remember much of this, I definitely remember having an imaginary friend named Joe.

12. THE LITTLE GIRL

My grandfather had a camp on Lake Dering in NH when I was a kid. One day when I was 6 or so, I fell off of the dock and into the water. I couldn’t swim. While under, I distinctly remember seeing a little girl down there who told me to look up towards the sun and just keep kicking and I’d be fine. I swam to the surface just in time for my grandfather to swoop me up and pull me back on the dock. And, yes, I found out later that a little girl drowned in the lake near that same spot (of course).

13. THE IMAGINARY FRIEND

When my daughter was three she had an imaginary friend named Kelly who lived in her closet. Kelly sat in a little rocking chair while she slept, played with her, etc. Typical imaginary friend shit. Anyway, fast forward two years later, the wife and I are watching the new Amityville (the one with Ryan Renolds) and our daughter walks out right when dead girl goes all black eyed. Far from being disturbed, she said “That looks like Kelly.” “Kelly who?” we say “You know the dead girl that lived in my closet.”

14. HER EYES WOULD FOLLOW IT

I had tons of experiences like this when my little girl was born a few years ago. From being just a few months old we noticed she’d randomly start looking over at something and giggling, like something was making her laugh. Her eyes would follow it around the room. And sometimes we’d feel like it was stood right next to us or behind us and then we’d noticed she was looking at it, or smiling in that direction. It never caused any problems though, in fact, when she was upset she’d look over at it and start laughing or smiling. And if we couldn’t find something we really needed, suddenly it’d appear right in front of us, when we knew we’d checked there a hundred times.

Stopped around the time she turned two.

15. PUNISHMENT

I was seventeen and babysitting a friend of the family’s six-year-old. he’d been in bed a couple of hours and I just peeked in to check on him. he wasn’t in the bed and when i opened the door wider, I saw he was standing in the corner, facing the wall. creepiest fucking thing ever. I asked him what he was doing and all he did was turn around, smile, and put his finger to his lips as if to say “shhh”. I asked him again what he was doing and all he says is, “leave us. It is the punishment.”

16. HE DOESN’T HAVE A FACE

My son from the age of three always tells me about the “creeper man” who lives in my mom and dads bedroom. He brings it up after he visits them. I made the mistake once of asking what he looks like. My son said “Oh, he doesn’t have a face.”

17. I WAS THE SAME

I tend to be skeptical also, even when I love reading about paranormal stuff, the only thing that has kind of freaked me out has been my nephew a couple of years ago when he was about 2 1/2 years old would talk to a man only he could see at my house and an old lady at his grandparents house.

My mother tells me I was the same, talking and playing with my grandfather for a few months after he died, I would call to him and hold conversations with him and even wish him good night before going to bed.

[answering-trinity-blog]

A Commonly misunderstood symbolic name of Jesus - Immanuel (Nothing to do with God incarnation theory)

Immanuel

The goal of this post is to show the symbology of the ‘Immanuel’ name in the original context of the prophecy and that it does not mean God incarnated.

Rezin the king of Syria, and Pekah the son of Remaliah, king of Israel, went up toward Jerusalem to war against it, but could not prevail against it. (Isa 7:1)

When news reached the royal palace that Syria had joined forces with Israel, King Ahaz and everyone in Judah were so terrified that they shook like trees in a windstorm.

The sign of Immanuel was that God would be with Judah against Syria and Israel. The goal of the prophecy was to trust God - i.e. To tell Ahaz to stop worrying.

The assurance Ahaz and his officials received through the prophet Isaiah was: Isa 7:14 Therefore the Lord Himself shall give you a sign: behold, the young woman shall conceive, and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel. Isa 7:15 Even before the boy is old enough to know how to choose between right and wrong, he will eat yogurt and honey, and the countries of the two kings you fear will be destroyed.

The fulfilment against Syria: Isa 8:3 Sometime later, my wife and I had a son, and the LORD said, "Name him Maher-Shalal-Hash-Baz. Isa 8:4 Because before he can say 'Mommy' or 'Daddy', the king of Assyria will attack and take everything of value from Damascus and Samaria."

As Jesus was the real name of the Christ, so is Maher-Shalal-Hash-Baz the real name of Isaiah’s son. But Isaiah’s son was symbolically ‘Immanuel’ because God was with Judah protecting them against their enemies. The arrival of Jesus later on symbolised that God was again with the children of Abraham because he had raised Jesus as a saviour for them.

Here is the record in Kings: 2Ki 16:6 At that time Rezin the king of Syria recovered Elath for Syria and drove the men of Judah from Elath, and the Edomites came to Elath, where they dwell to this day. 2Ki 16:7 So Ahaz sent messengers to Tiglath-pileser king of Assyria, saying, "I am your servant and your son. Come up and rescue me from the hand of the king of Syria and from the hand of the king of Israel, who are attacking me." 2Ki 16:8 Ahaz also took the silver and gold that was found in the house of the LORD and in the treasures of the king's house and sent a present to the king of Assyria. 2Ki 16:9 And the king of Assyria listened to him. The king of Assyria marched up against Damascus and took it, carrying its people captive to Kir, and he killed Rezin.

Interpreting ’Immanuel’ as incarnation of God is futile when we study the original context of the prophecy. Isa 8:9 All of you foreign nations, go ahead and prepare for war, but you will be crushed. Isa 8:10 Get together and make plans, but you will fail because GOD IS WITH US.

Young woman/Virgin and the Gospel of Mathew In the context of Isaiah 7 and 8, the woman turns out to be the wife of Isaiah and Immanuel, Isaiah’s son. In the original Hebrew of Isaiah 7:14 the word almah meant a young woman of childbearing age who had not yet given birth and who might or might not be a virgin, however the Greek translation, the Septuagint, rendered almah as parthenos, a word which means virgin.

Mat 1:21 And she shall bring forth a son; and thou shalt call his name JESUS; for it is he that shall save his people from their sins. Mat 1:22 Now all this is come to pass, that it might be fulfilled which was spoken by the Lord through the prophet, saying, Mat 1:23 Behold, the virgin shall be with child, and shall bring forth a son, And they shall call his name Immanuel; which is, being interpreted, God with us.

Clearly the name of this promised son would be JESUS, yet he would bear the name ‘Immanuel’ symbolically as he is never referred to as ‘Immanuel’ in the gospel narratives, epistles or Acts.

As can be seen in the original context of the prophecy, ’Immanuel’ does not imply incarnation, rather that Jesus would save his people from their sins (Mat 1:21). Jesus does not save Israel on account of his divinity but on account of his obedience.

— Before you quote Immanuel as proof text for trinity note David Guzik’s (Trinitarian commentator) commentary: i. Spurgeon said of this passage, that it is said to be “One of the most difficult in all the Word of God. It may be so; I certainly did not think it was until I saw what the commentators had to say about it, and I rose up from reading them perfectly confused.”

ii. “It is characteristic of predictive prophecy that it often mingles different times together in one composite picture” (Martin)

Further David Guzik notes: The near fulfillment of this prophecy centered around Ahaz, Jerusalem, and the attack from Israel and Syria. For Ahaz, the sign centered around a time span (For before the Child shall know to refuse the evil and choose the good, the land that you dread will be forsaken by both her kings). Simply put, God would give Ahaz a sign that within a few years, both Israel and Syria would be crushed. This was a sign of deliverance to Ahaz.

“The name ‘Immanuel’ was a rebuke to Ahaz. If ‘God is with us,’ then why should he have feared the enemy?” (Wolf)

“The ‘sign’ of the child, therefore, constitutes an indication that the all-sovereign and all-knowing God has the situation completely in hand, and it rebukes the king’s lack of faith in him.” (Grogan)

[hopesoldcomicblog]

For the love of God shut up-(Dick Grayson x reader)

A.N. Dick slowly begins to fall for the new, elusive and sacarstic vigilante in Bludhaven who seems to have no problem with killing. Hilarity ensues. (Y/n)-your name (Y/v/n)- your vigilante name Enjoy!!!

* *

You were sitting on a rooftop overlooking Bludhaven, the lights of the sitting reflected on the waterfront bringing a sense of warmth to the dark and dirty city. You looked towards the docks, you had been waiting for a shipment to Come through all week and an anonymous source had tipped you off that it was coming tonight. So instead of being a normal collage student partying with your friends like literally everyone else was doing on a Friday night you had donned your vigilante costume, loaded your guns and set out on a stake out. Your (e/c) eyes peered through binoculars as you waited in silence for the boat to dock. Your heard a series of silent footsteps behind you. You didn’t need to turn around to be able tell who it was. “You need to work on your stealth. I heard your footsteps from the second you landed on the rooftop.” “And a good evening to you to miss (y/v/n).” Your theory was confirmed when your heard his voice. Great, Nightwing had decided to crash your quiet night of stake out. “I assume you’re her for Falcone’s new shipment too. I’ve been here all night and there hasn’t been anything so far.” You stated coldly. You didn’t need him to be here, you could do fine on your own. You had taken down bigger and badder people in the span of your career you didn’t need to babysat by someone who disapproved of your methods. “Hey no need to be harsh, pal.” His voice curled around that word and you could see the award winning smile forming. You turned your head and continued watching the docks and you watched the boat roll in. You sighed happily. Finally some action, you lept off the building and began your way to the docks, hiding in the shadows. A series of footsteps mimicked yours, he was following you. great. You made it to the docks quickly, ignoring your shadow that was practically radiating justice that was twirling around behind you. You waited in the shadows keeping an eye on who was there and what the shipment was. A silence fell between the two of you as you waited. Your (h/c) fluttered in the small breeze of Bludhaven waterfront. There wasn’t much space between the two of you, you could feel the heat radiating off of him. He pressed closer you rolled your eyes behind your mask and continued to wait in your new hiding spot. A few minutes passed and Falcone emerged from the inside of a luxury car that had just driven up. You took this moment as your chance to jump. You pulled out one of your guns, clicked the safety off and took aim. Shortly before firing you were tackled to the ground causing you to miss your target and hit the wall behind Falcone giving yourself away. Nightwing pinned you to the ground and wrestled the gun from your hands as Falcone’s men shot at the two of you. “Nice one Dickhead you gave away our cover.” You said as pushed him off of you and took cover behind a storage container. You could hear Falcone getting away. “(Y/v/n)-” he reached his hand out in order to help you up. You pushed it away and stood up yourself. “Because of you Falcone got away. Because of you I might have missed my chance to actually bring that fucking bastard to justice. Fuck you nightwing. Fuck you.” You screamed as you jabbed your finger at his chest. He stared back at you intently. “(Y/n) listen.” He explained calmly. He had called you by your real name, not your vigilante name. “What did you call me?” You stared back at the man who apparently knew your secret identity. “How do you know my name?” You demanded quietly back turned away from him. “I’m a detective. It’s what I do, but anyway (y/n), I mean (y/v/n) you can’t just kill people for the sake of bringing them to justice. Some of these people are sick and some of them need treatmen-” “Some of them are who deserve to burn in hell for all eternity. I’m just helping in getting them there.” You said coldly as you pulled sprinted away leaving nightwing alone at the docks shivering in the cold winter air of Bludhven.

*

After the Falcone incident you didn’t see Nightwing for a few weeks. Bludhaven had been slow, well slow for Bludhaven. You had decided to spend the night in, Nightwing could handle it if it was worse than just a few muggings and petty crimes. Resigning yourself to your couch alongside take out and Netflix. You ate your takeout and petted your cocker spaniel in a delightful amount of peaceful silence. And then your silence was shattered. “Hey (y/f/n), nice place you got yourself here.” You shrieked. You grabbed the closest weapon (in this case it was a dinner knife) spun on your heels. Your fear and shock was replaced by mild anger and well deserved annoyance as you realized who it was. “Did daddy never teach you about knocking or did he forget to teach you manors while you beat in henchmen’s skulls?"You sigh. You see the smirk that at this point should probably be copy righted form."so I assume you came here to talk about a case and not to just break into my apartment, terrify my dog and annoy me to the point where I’m seriously considering stabbing a dinner knife through that mask of yours.” You put a hand on your hips and awaited a serious answer. You got laughter. You frowned in response, you picked up your plate and put it away in your kitchen. “I came to talk about Falcone. He’s on the move again, I think I’ve tracked him down to the west side. He’s dealing a new type of drug. Calling it poison apple.” He explained. You snickered at the corny name.“I know, real creative right? Anyway as I was saying. I assume that’s what he was doing down at the docks a couple weeks ago.” You listened as he explained, glaring at the traitor that is your dog as she sniffs up Nightwing’s spandex covered leg. “Thanks for the info Nightwing. I can handle it from here.” “I’m not telling you this so you can bring Valcone to justice.” He takes a deep breath. “I’m telling you because I think we should team Up. You have a better understanding of how that area of Bludhaven works and I’ve got a plan that can bring him to justice.” “So do I. It’s called a gun.” You throw back, you can practically see him grimace. “Anyway pretty boy I think I’ll be fine without you. Thanks for the info, now kindly get the fuck out of my apartment. ” “Wait, (y/n) hear me out. He’ll kill you if you go after him tonight.” He speaks, his voice almost full of something close to worry. “Thanks for the concern Boy Wonder, but I think I’ll be fine. Plus we both know you don’t want to ‘team up’ with me for the sake of actually taking him down. You want to babysit me and make sure that I won’t kill the bastard.” His posture straightened, demeanor changing. “Killing him does not solve the problem it just causes another one. You can’t just use violence as a way to deal with problems.” “Last I checked you use violence every night to deal with problems.” You were walking away from him, you sat back down on your couch. He followed you of course. Fucking asshole. You sat down in the chair near you, sure go ahead and just make yourself at home dickhead. “That’s different. I don’t, I don’t kill. Killing is wrong, it takes a life from the world and doesn’t give a person a chance to change. It doesn’t-” you grabbed him by the hem of his costume, you could see him bracing for a punch. You felt him flinch when you pulled him into a kiss. It was rough and your fists balled the material of his costume tighter. He was obviously taken off guard by the kiss but he melted into it soon.

The kiss was rough, tongues melting together. Teeth bumping and biting. Full of wet slips of tongues and teeth. Eventually you pulled away and during the span of that hell of a kiss he had somehow landed on top of you. His hair was a mess and he was breathing heavily, a blush was on his cheeks. He looked a like a hot mess and you were sure you did too. “Please. For the love of god. Shut. The. Fuck. Up.” You sighed as you brushed your (h/c) hair from out from in front of your eyes. “Make me.” He muttered as he peppered a string of kissed to your jaw. “God, even when you’re about to get laid you’re annoyingly as hell.” You sighed as you shifted positions as to not feel quite so crushed under his weight. He pulled away quickly. “Who said anything about sex?” He looked mildly confused and quite frankly fucking adorable. “I did. But only if we do it on the bed in the other room because this position of fucking wrecking my spine.” You said as you pressed a kiss to his neck and sat up leading him to the other room. “And the bedroom has better lighting, Grayson” you say with a smirk watching panic slip onto his face. “That’s right I know, you’re not the only detective. And besides, you’re not as subtle as you think Dickie boy.”

* “I knew you fucking set me up. I trusted you and you fucking went behind my back to get Falcone and take him in yourself.” You scream. You’re both in your apartment. The past few nights had gone very differently than you were expecting. “Excuse me? I’m the one who went behind your back? Says the one who literally barged into a restaurant shooting at civilians!” He shouts back. His voice was raw and his face was red. You both had discarded the masks. “They were the bad guys Dick. How many times must I tell you this? They were going to kill innocent people and stopped them. I thought that’s what you cared about your fucking asshole?” You stated calmly. You turn your back to him and return to your kitchen. You pull a glass and a bottle of whisky from the cupboard. He follows you and you can hear him sigh. “(Y/n) you can’t just solve all your problems with violence and drinking. It’s not healthy.” He says. His blue eyes staring back at yours. You take a drink of your whisky. “Fucking watch me you son of a bitch.” You say defiantly. “Anyway only one guy died and it was because he was being stupid. The rest were just wounded and if I truly wanted them dead. They would be.” “God, you’re just so fucking full of it (y/v/n).” He says, his words full of mild defeat. You both know this conversation is going nowhere and is a hopeless cause that won’t amount to anything. “Please define 'it’ I need you to be a little more specific, Nightwing.” You purr back. You walk right by Dick and back into the living room. “Anyway, it has been a pleasure having you over Dickhead but a vigilante needs their beauty sleep, so kindly get the hell out of my apartment.” You say gesturing out the window. “Awww (y/n)”, he purrs grabbing your arm and pulling you close. “Don’t play like that.” “God, is it okay for me to blame everything wrong with your personality on Bruce or shall I bone it on the childhood trauma?” You counter. Words leaving your lips. “ gonna go with blamin-” Unfortunately you’re unable to continue your sentence as it is rudely interrupted by Dick pressing his perfectly pink lips to yours. The kiss is long and it almost distracts you from the click that you recognize as the sound of metal hand cuffs. He pulls away, his fingertips dancing across your jawline. “In the wise words of a certain crime fighting vigilante 'for the love of God, shut the fuck up’” Dick muttered with a smile before pressing a sloppy kiss to your cheek and diving out the window leaving a slightly dazed (y/v/n) handcuffed to the window holding a slip of paper with a set of sloppy numbers written in glitter blue gel pen.