#literally three and a half days. and my dad is losing it

[cowlovely]

my dad is driving me up a wall oh my god

[youremyonlyhope]

I love when I see posts like "Share how many crochet WIPs you currently have! I have 5, it's so many!"

Like, girl, I have unfinished projects from over a decade ago that I refuse to frog on the off chance I decide to finish them. I've found years-old projects I forgot I even started and will impulsively just finish it on the spot. I've started three different projects in the last 2 months, including one I started yesterday, that I already know I may or may not finish within the year depending on motivation.

The number of WIPs I have is infinite.

[ladykailitha]

The Caged Bird Still Sings Part 19

Hello everyone! Welcome to the new year! I am back and swinging! I have a good backlog now and I'm feeling better about writing after that break. I was feeling really burned out after Christmas. I still love writing, but I didn't have the energy to do it.

But after that three week hiatus, I am back to writing 800-1000 words a day which is what keeps me up to date on my backlog when I'm posting.

I recommend reading the last chapter again as a refresher before this one (linked below).

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18

In this chapter we have the boys' night out and Eddie and Steve talk about where they stand with other.

~

Eddie was standing at the front of the hotel looking at his watch and tapping his foot, when the three adults pulled into the valet parking lot.

When Gareth got out and tossed Steve the keys, he came bounding up to them. “What time do you call this, young man?” he teased, putting his hands on his hips.

They all burst out laughing as Eddie tried to hold the serious pose and failed miserably.

“Just a small hiccup up at the stadium,” Jeff said, rolling his eyes. “A fan recognized me and Gare and we were signing autographs for about a half hour.”

Eddie paused for a moment and tilted his head to side. “You were signing autographs without me?” He put a hand on his forehead and pretended to swoon. “You have forsaken me!”

Steve turned to Gareth and blinked rapidly. “Um..is he always this dramatic?”

“No,” Gareth snorted, “he’s worse.” He turned to Eddie. “Chill out you big baby. You don’t like sports and would have been miserable.”

Eddie stopped for a moment and then straightened up. “Yeah, that’s fair.”

“God,” Jeff huffed, “I’d kill for a stiff drink. Have the front desk call Brian up and meet us in the bar.”

“Sounds good to me,” Eddie said, falling into step next to Steve as they walked to the bar, Gareth splitting off temporarily to get Brian to join them.

“Did you have fun?” Eddie asked, a big grin on his face.

Steve rolled his eyes and licked upper lip. “You’re the one that suggested they take me, aren’t you?”

“Guilty as charged,” Eddie said, twirling his rings. “But Jeff and Gareth loved the idea. They wanted to get a chance to know you better and this basketball game seemed like the perfect opportunity. Plus I know you’ve been feeling trapped in this town with all the bullshit that happened with your dad.”

Steve smiled up at him. “Well, I approve. It was lots of fun. The Harlem Globetrotters are known for their wacky playing style and over the top theatrics. So I was a little,” he held his finger and thumb really close together, “surprised when you didn’t want to come with.”

“I think I would’ve been more annoyed,” Eddie huffed. “Can’t stand it when people play normally, so having a group of players just fucking around and still have it be legal...no thanks.”

“Fair enough,” Steve said as they reached the bar.

They sat down at one of the tables and Gareth ordered two draft beers, one for him and one for Brian. Jeff ordered a double shot of whiskey and Eddie ordered a Manhattan.

“I’ll have a Coke and lime,” Steve said as a waiter took their order.

Eddie smiled slyly at Steve. “Good boy. I was wondering what you were going to order with my little ban on alcohol until you’re actually twenty-one.”

Steve snorted and rolled his eyes. “If I keep up this dry spell, I’ll lose my tolerance for it and lose my title as keg king.”

Jeff who had been taking a drink, did a spit take. “You were a what now?”

Their drinks arrived, so Steve was able to dodge the question for a moment longer. But he was forced to confess under the stern eye of Eddie Munson.

“Me and my friends would have chugging contests,” Steve said with a shrug. “I had the best time. Like always. But I haven’t even had a beer in literal months.”

Eddie blinked. “Wait, really? I would have thought for sure you would found someway to get a beer at least.”

Steve shook his head. “The people who still like me are kids and their parents. One of which is the Chief of Police. Yeah, I’ve been sticking clear of booze thanks.”

“Um...” Jeff said, rubbing his chin. “The hotel room is in Eddie’s name and he’s over twenty-one. You could literally order from the hotel and no one would bat an eye.”

“I just figured that fell under the umbrella of buying alcohol using Eddie’s money,” Steve said with a shrug. “So I just didn’t.”

Eddie slid over his Manhattan. “I wasn’t intended to dry you out completely. I just didn’t want you flashing that fake ID around using my credit card.”

“Oh,” Steve blushed and hid it by taking a sip of the Manhattan and he closed his eyes, letting the alcohol hit his system for the first time in months. “Yeah, I’m going to have to go easy on these otherwise you’re going to be dragging my drunk ass up that elevator.”

They all laughed.

Steve finished off the Manhattan while Eddie ordered a different cocktail. Then he went back to the Coke and lime as to pace himself.

They all talked and laughed and got to know each other better. Steve was only tipsy when they called it a night.

Eddie walked Steve to his room, not only because he was the suite across the hall, but because he wanted to make sure Steve got in okay.

“All right, little Canary,” Eddie said sternly. “What aren’t you, Jeff and Gareth telling me?”

Steve put his arms around Eddie’s neck and cooed, “What makes you think we aren’t telling you something?”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “I might not know you as well as I would like, Stevie, but I know when Jeff and Gareth are leaving something out. And with you a little tipsy, I thought I’d see if I could weasel it out of you.”

“Missed you,” Steve breathed, trying to grind against Eddie’s crotch. “I’ll be super good for you.”

Eddie grabbed Steve’s hips and pulled him a little bit away from his waist. “You are a treat, sweetheart, make no mistake. But you’re a little too drunk for anything other than conversation. So why don’t we get you in bed?”

Steve pouted but did as he was told. He opened the door to the hotel room and immediately started stripping his clothes off.

Eddie turned his eyes skyward, with his hands on his hips until Steve pulled up the shorts on his pajamas Eddie had gotten him his first night at the hotel. But he was grateful when Steve shimmied the top over his head, neglecting to undo the buttons.

“You look cute, Stevie,” he murmured as he came up to him, checking him out as he neared. “I thought you would. You really look good in yellow.”

Steve blushed, tugging at the hem of the top, “Thanks.”

Eddie scooped him up and carried him over to the bed, that was turned down by Rosa, like it was every night. He laid him in the bed and then tucked him in. He brushed Steve’s hair out of his face and kissed his forehead.

“Good night, little Canary,” he murmured.

Eddie moved to stand up, but Steve caught the hem of his jacket, keeping him there. He looked down at Steve and immediately his heart broke. Steve had tears in his eyes and one slid across his nose.

“Baby?”

“My dad was at the game,” Steve murmured. “We didn’t see him until after we were leaving, so we don’t know if he saw me. But that’s why Jeff and Gareth did an autograph signing, so that I could sneak past him.”

Eddie’s knees hit the floor and he was gathering Steve up in his arms from one breath to the next. “Oh, Stevie...” he whispered into Steve’s hair. “Now I understand why you guys didn’t want to tell me and I’m not mad. Well, I am but at your dad for ruining your night out. I wish I could just make him go away for you. Just *POOF* off the face of the earth.”

Steve let out a shuddering breath and then another. “But at least this means we know they’ve been staying in Indy.”

“There you go,” Eddie whispered, smoothing out Steve’s hair, “a silver lining. So we’ll make sure you get to go places other than Indy and you know what your dad likes so if there is a fun thing you want to for one of your kids like skateboarding or something that you know your dad would avoid like the plague, we still send you to those, okay, little Canary?”

Steve ran his nose along Eddie’s jaw and he shuddered with want. But he knew Steve was too drunk to do anything but sleep, so he gently untangled himself from Steve’s arms, and before he could even get to his feet, Steve was sound asleep.

“Sleep well, my little angel.”

~

Steve woke up with a pounding headache and lancing of shame down his spine. He had basically thrown himself at Eddie last night and the man had been a perfect gentleman. He threw his head back and stared at the ceiling, wallowing in his misery.

There was a gentle knock on the door and Steve forced himself into a standing position and waddled over to the door. He opened it to see Eddie on the other side, bright and cheery. Which made the pain in head throb worse.

Eddie held up a bag of McDonald’s and grinned. “I brought you best hangover cure known to man.”

Steve let him in and Eddie set the food on the table. Then he went over and started brewing a pot of coffee. He then filled a glass with water from the tap in the bathroom and handed it to Steve with two pills that were obviously ibuprofen. All this without comment or condemnation.

Steve took the painkillers with a grateful smile.

“Eat one of those Egg McMuffins,” Eddie said indicating the bag with his chin. “Then go shower. By then the coffee will have been brewed.”

“Thanks,” Steve muttered and ripped into one of the breakfast sandwiches with relish. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I behaved badly last night and I’m sorry.”

Eddie chuckled. “You were cute. But nah, I get it. You’d been dry for a couple of months there and then suddenly drinking again? Yeah, I would have been more than a little tipsy, too.”

Steve blushed and focused on his food for a moment before he said, “It was really scary seeing my dad last night, but Gareth and Jeff handled it. Better than I would have had I been alone. I really owe them.”

“I talked to them after tucking you in,” Eddie said sprawling out on the sofa. “They didn’t want to tell me because they were worried that I would forbid you from going out again. Which, I can see where they’re coming from. But I would rather know about it and plan better than not. So they agreed to tell me from now on.”

“Lucas loved hanging out with them,” Steve said, smiling around his bite of food.

Eddie chuckled. “I don’t doubt that. Jeff and Gareth had a blast, too. Jeff is talking about getting season tickets to the Pacers’ games. I told him to hold off on that for a bit to see where this goes first, but they definitely want to hang out with you more.”

Steve finished the sandwich and wiped his mouth again. “I had fun hanging out with them, too.”

“Go get your shower, little Canary,” Eddie said fondly. “I’ll be waiting for you when you get out.”

Steve got up and rummaged through his drawers for something to wear. He settled on comfort over style because even though the pain in his head was beginning to recede, it was still there throbbing behind his eyes. The shower went a long way in driving the pain further from his head so that when he got done with his routine he could walk almost normal instead of everything hurting with every move he made.

When he walked out, there was a woman arguing with Eddie. A woman he vaguely recognized. Then it hit him. Chrissy Cunningham. Their manager. The one that currently didn’t like him because he took up too much of Eddie’s time.

“You know,” he said dryly from the bathroom door, where he was leaning against it with arms crossed, “I might be only nineteen, but I at least know to talk to someone when they have a beef with me.”

Chrissy whirled around and stared at him in shock. Like she had forgotten this was his hotel room. “Steve!”

He walked up to her and huffed out a breath out of his nose. “It’s a free country the last time I checked. Eddie can spend his time and his money how ever he wants. So either suck it up or hit the road, because even I know I can’t reason him out of giving me things.”

Chrissy looked between Eddie and Steve and then sighed. “You don’t care that he’s basically your sugar daddy at this point?”

Steve crossed his arms over his chest and licked his lips slowly. “Considering the alternative is living out of my car? No. It took me a long time to come to terms with the fact that Eddie wants to take care of me. So you know what? I’m going to let him. I like him. I enjoy spending time with him. I’m not a gold digger or whatever else you think of me. But I will enjoy it while it’s here.”

Eddie slow clapped. “He’s got a point. We get along great, we enjoy each other’s company, and I like spoiling people. Is my Uncle Wayne a gold digger because I take care of him too?”

She glared at him and then threw her arms in the air and then with a terse, “Fine!” she stormed out of the hotel room.

Eddie grinned. “Now where were we?”

Steve just threw his head back and laughed.

~

Part 20 Part 21

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @itsall-taken @wheneverfeasible @zerokrox-blog @beelze-the-bubkiss @blondie1006

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @themoonagainstmers @cryptid-system @maya-custodios-dionach

3- @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child

4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1

5- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

6- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

7- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @w1ll0wtr33 @sticknpokelightningbolt @just-a-tiny-void

8- @scoops-aboy86 @kurofuckingshi16 @watermelonmite @eyehartart @dreamercec

9- @little-birch-boy @yearningagain @micheledawn1975 @sadisticaltarts @steddieislife

10- @fearieshadow @kultiras @thesecondfate @tartarusknight @genderless-spoon

[yours-etc]

12 Days of Steddie-Mas

Day 1:

I’ll Have A Blue Christmas

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

The fresh snow crunches under his boots. Flakes fall from the sky, sticking to his hat and shoulders and eyelashes. A cloudy of mist fans out from Steve’s mouth when he gasps as he slips on a patch of ice. He grips the flowers tight in his hand as he regains his balance, the box of cookies he had falls from his grip and onto the ground. Luckily it stayed closed and the cookies mostly intact when he peaked in.

“God damn this fucking snow!” Steve exclaimed, kicking the white fluff in frustration. He loved Indiana, but Jesus Christ, he was so sick of Midwestern winters.

The cemetery is empty besides Steve, the headstones, and whatever ghosts of Christmas were lingering around.

Steve finds his was to the plot he was looking for. He lays out a blanket so he doesn’t have to sit directly on the cold ground. He takes the now dead and frozen old flowers from the small vase and replaces them with the poinsettias he brought.

“Hey Mom,” he breathes out, tracing the words Roasanne Harrington Loving Wife, Mother, Sister, and Friend.

“Sorry it's been a while, you know how I hate the cold,” Steve laughs out the second half, “But you always loved Christmas, so I had to come celebrate.”

There’s no response from the stone, but Steve doesn’t mind the silence.

“This isn’t the first Christmas without you, but it’s definitely the one that hurts the most,” he starts, “because I can almost pretend to be happy. There are moments where I forget you’re gone. And then there will just be a second, usually when I’m lost in thought, or when I’m watching everyone laugh, I just think about how much you’d love them all. I’m sorry you never got to meet them, my new family I guess you could call them. You would love Robin, she reminds me of you. Her love of the holidays, her sense of humor, the way she looks at the world,” Steve sucks in a deep breath trying to stop himself from crying, tears pricking at his eyes, “Oh mom, you would have adored her.” He loses his battle with his emotions. Tears flood from his eyes and sob shudders through his body.

“I’m sorry we never got to patch things up before you left. It- it felt like there— there for a moment, at the end— we were getting close to being able to. I think after the wedding we both realized how much we missed each other. And I want you to know I don’t blame you for sticking by Dad,” Steve didn’t acknowledge the headstone to his left that had his father’s name on it.

“You loved him, and I’m sure, at some point, he was good. It’s hard to let go of things sometimes.” Steve swipes away his tears with the back of his coat sleeve. He didn’t need them freezing on his lashes.

He opened the box of cookies and took a bite of one, “I never can get them to taste the same as how you made them, I’m convinced you purposefully left out an ingredient on the written recipe.”

Steve giggles as he remembered how protective his mother was of her recipes. He quite literally could not get his hands on them till she died. And like hell was he going to let Aunt Katie take them. They were more valuable than anything left to him in the will. After the accident Steve was left with a big empty house and a stack of note card recipes.

He sold the house and laminated the cards.

With the money from the old place, he was able to but his own quaint little home. With three bedrooms and two and a half baths, Steve had finally found a home. It was a fixer upper on the outside of town, but he needed a project to keep his mind busy.

He threw his heart and soul into painting the walls a soft cream color and tearing out the drab carpet to be replaced with ward hardwood floors and redoing the front porch to fit some chairs and a swing.

He had help from Dustin, Robin, and of course Eddie— Steve played with the ring on his finger at the thought of him— but the brunt of the work was done by him.

He wanted to make his dream home. And so he did.

On the day him and Eddie moved out of their shared apartment with Robin, lots of loving tears and hugs were shared and promises of a dinner party as soon as the house was properly set up were made.

The house was a bit empty at first. They only had enough to fill half an apartment, and now they had much more space to grow. Wayne had made them a kitchen table with four chairs as a house warming gift. More tears were shed that day when he dropped it off.

Slowly but surely they filled their home with cozy couches and pillows, music, and photos of their life.

Steve didn’t need to turn around to know the footsteps approaching behind him belonged to his husband.

Eddie leaned down to give him a warm kiss on the cheek. Steve leaned into his warmth, not realizing how cold he had gotten.

“Ready to go?” Eddie asks softly, “We have to pick up little Robbie from Chrissy and Robin’s before heading to Wayne’s for dinner.”

Steve nods and grabs Eddie’s outstretched hand to help him up off the ground.

Eddie gathers up the blanket and shakes it out before bundling up under his arms. He makes a swift dramatic bow to Rosanna’s stone, “Mrs. Rose, looking as gorgeous as ever,” He doesn’t look to the left, but throws up a middle finger to Robert’s grave, “Mr. Harrington, hope hell is awful as always.”

Steve laughs at his ridiculousness before giving his mom’s stone a small kiss. Leaning his forehead against the cold rock he wishers, “You really would have loved little Robin, she reminds me of you more and more everyday. Maybe I’ll bring her next time.”

He stands to his full height and walks over to Eddie lacing their fingers together and give their hands a squeeze. Eddie squeezes back. The two of them walk back to Eddie’s new mini van, which is “totally just as metal as the old one, Stevie.”

The radio plays Christmas music as they drive off to pick up their daughter from her first ever annual Auntie Christmas Eve Eve sleepover. And in the moment Steve feels content and maybe a bit lighter.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

HAPPY DECEMBER 1st!!

Throughout the month I will be posting 12 different Steddie Christmas/Winter themed ficlets!! Just short little things to bring on the Holiday fun. Now I know this one was a bit sad… I promise there will be Happy ones too!! Anyway I hope you all enjoy <3

Day: 1 2 3 4 5 6

[gamerbot-22]

Could you do a headcanon about Vash being the father of twins?

Me, reading this prompt for the first time: Aww, how cute, Vash as a dad! Me, reading this prompt a second time, really honing in on the "twins" part: Oh. Vash as a dad to twins... Okay. Fuck yes. Love where your head's at.

Vash the Stampede as a Father to Twins

TW/CWs: A LOT of angst semi-balanced out with Vash shenanigans (Vashenanigans, if you would), no reader insert here, written with no particular version of Vash in mind so feel free to slot in your fave, mentions of children in danger with nothing explicit happening, barely proofread and I appreciate spellchecks!

A/N: This was the first ask I got while I was out on vacation in CO and getting hit upside the head with the angst potential of this while I was mid-latte-made-by-my-best-friend was an insane experience (in a good way!) Sorry if you were looking for something entirely lighthearted, I just could not let go of the potential of this once I saw it.

Likes and Reblogs appreciated, Requests are Open, and it’s all under the cut!

The dividers in this post were made by @/saradika ☆

So right off the bat, I'm not going to concern myself too much about the biological parentage of these hypothetical twins because in my heart of hearts I do not think Vash would care. Like it does not matter to him if these kids came from him, someone else, or the sands of Gunsmoke itself, he is going to love these kids to the stars and back.

I think he's a very hands-on parent to the point of being overbearing at times. He is a Wanted Outlaw whether he wants to be or not, and he knows that there are a lot of hardened people out there in the desert that would not think twice about shooting a kid, so he gets even more defensive than he normally does in his fighting. He probably picks up a couple more scars making sure his kids don't get a scratch on them.

As hands-on as he is, I think it goes without saying that Vash is incredibly gentle. His scoldings for fights and bad behavior are stern, but he never gets loud. He saves that for if his twins are in active danger, so they know immediately when they need to start running away or hiding.

Building off the gentleness, he really pushes for his twins to get along and watch out for each other, almost directly quoting Rem when he tells them to take care of one another. He doesn't talk about their Uncle Nai very often, but the kids aren't stupid. They know their dad misses his brother, and doesn't want his kids to know the heartbreak that comes with losing your best friend.

Phew, on a lighter note! When there's downtime I think Vash just goes full jungle gym if that's the way his kids want to play. He has one looped around his neck and the other hanging off his prosthetic like a monkey, all three of them laughing and smiling in the shade while they catch their breath. He tells them silly stories and they play dumb games and he is weak to his kids asking for sweets whenever they go places. More than once the three of them have eaten enough donuts to just be down for the count for a day or so, which just means they're all in a big pile in bed or in the shade just relaxing and waiting for the collective tummy hurt to pass.

I also think that after a while the three of 'em all laugh and smile the exact same. Like if you tell them a funny joke you get a literal harmonized choir of laughter and giggling as they lean against each other or fall into the sand. They're all cutie patooties, even if there's not much of a family resemblance between father and children.

And despite what I said earlier about Vash being a bit more ready to throw himself in harm's way to protect his kids, I think he actually starts to take better care of himself for them. Yes, he's spent the better part of a century and a half protecting people, but none of those people (save a very small handful) have ever really depended on him the way his twins have. If he goes, there will be no one to protect them, especially if he dies out in the desert, far away from any towns or settlements. So he eats more, drinks more water, and actually starts to carry more medical supplies with him than he usually did (he even gets some cute character bandages for the little cuts and scratches.)

The night he first met his children, he swore a vow to himself and to them that he would live to see them reach the future. No matter what. And I think that means when the kids are older--say, mid-teens at the youngest--Vash starts to like... gently suggest they stay in the different towns they pass through. It becomes part of the routine of stopping somewhere: They find an inn, they get some food, Vash tries to sell his kids on staying in the nice, warm inn for a bit while he goes on, and they stay for a while until something happens and they're forced to move on.

It's not that he doesn't love these kids--he loves them more than he thought he could love anyone--but he can't... imagine them thriving in the life he's living, wandering aimlessly across the desert looking for some non-existent paradise that doesn't know Vash's face just so the three of them can have some peace and quiet. His children's lives, finite as they might be (depending on where you think these kids came from) are worth their weight in gold to Vash. It makes him understand why Rem stayed behind on the SEEDS ship to give him and Nai a chance, and it breaks him into a thousand pieces every time he thinks about it. If a life without him means they have a chance at something safe and normal, then it's a price Vash is more than willing to pay.

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

Left at the Altar - Hangman (Epilogue)

Pairing: Hangman / Wife!Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: Pregnancy and Kids; Suggestive Content; References to Sex; Second Person POV ("You"), Fem!Reader, No Y/N, No Defined Description of Physical Appearances of Reader; OC Baby is Referred to as Looking like “You”

This work, all of my other works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Summary: About three and a half years after you visit Jake in San Diego, you take in the reality of this new stage of your life.

Links: Master List Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

You should have known that you would not be the most important girl in Jake Seresin’s life forever.

Despite the fact that you moved all the way to California for him only three months after he surprised you on your wedding day, married him three months after that, and the two of you just celebrated your three-year wedding anniversary, you were not the most important girl in Jake Seresin’s life.

Not anymore. No, you lost that position about a year and a half ago.

It didn’t matter that the other girl was somewhat bald, constantly crying and napping, unable to feed herself, and drooled constantly; she was undoubtedly the most important girl in Jake’s life. But she was also the most important girl in your life, so you couldn’t be mad at him for that.

The second that Jake saw your daughter he was absolutely enamored with her. And the second that he held her in his arms for the first time, the deal was sealed. Little Rose, or Rosie, Seresin was the most important girl in Jake Seresin’s life.

Rosie just seemed to bring out the best in him by simply being born and existing as she did. He was softer and more understanding with people, especially the personnel under his command. He was more relaxed and smiled a lot more than before. Frankly, he just became more like the Jake you always knew instead of the Hangman persona.

And Jake credited you and your daughter for his promotion because of those changes.

“Dada,” Rosie called, making grabby motions with her hands when Jake walked across the stage.

“Yes, that’s Dada, sweetheart,” you agreed, pressing a kiss to her head. “He’ll be here soon, but you have to stay quiet right now, okay?”

You leaned over and pulled out your daughter’s favorite stuffed animal from your bag to settle her for a little longer. She was so attached to the toy that you literally wrote it on any packing list that you ever made these days. And what stuffed animal was your daughter’s favorite?

A phoenix. Well, it said ‘fire bird’ on the label, but it was a phoenix. It was given to you at your baby shower by Human Phoenix, who became very smug about the fact. Especially when Jake couldn’t soothe your daughter to stop crying but her stuffed phoenix toy did in a second.

He pouted about it for at least five hours before you told him to get over it. The alternative was your daughter crying and while your husband hated losing, especially to Phoenix, he hated his daughter being upset even more. So, he got over it. Phoenix still liked to poke him about it once in a while though.

You handed your daughter her toy and brushed her hair down to soothe her so that you could listen in on the ceremony. When Jake was officially announced as Commander Jacob “Hangman” Seresin, you clapped proudly along with the rest of the crowd.

After the ceremony wrapped up, you slowly stood up and set your daughter on the ground. She happily took off as soon as she spotted her dad walking over. Letting out a squeal that caught quite a few amused looks from the other attendees, Rosie hurried towards Jake. He happily leaned down and scooped her up into his arms.

“Hey, Princess,” Jake greeted her, pressing a kiss to her cheek. Placing her on his hip, he fixed the bow in her hair and smiled proudly. “Were you a good girl for Mommy?”

“Yeah,” she stated, grabbing at the bill of his dress white cap.

Jake pulled his hat off and placed it on top og Rosie’s head. It was far too big for her little head, but the giggle that she let out as she tried to see under it was absolutely adorable. You shook your head as Jake purposefully kept covering her eyes with it.

“Really setting a high standard there, Commander,” you teased, causing Jake to turn to you.

“I try, Wife.”

Jake wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you in for a quick peck. You knew that it was just a preamble to the celebrations that you would enjoy later in the safety of your own home, but Jake had to at least try and look like an upstanding commanding officer right now.

“How’s the wizzo doing?” Jake asked, spreading his fingers along your growing bump.

When you brought up the subject of having a second baby, you couldn’t even finish your little speech before Jake just simply started stripping in the middle of the living room. And the man took the job of knocking you up very seriously.

So, here you were: just a few weeks into your second trimester with your second baby.

Jake started referring to your baby as ‘the wizzo’ even though your baby wasn’t quite a backseater. And sometimes the nickname was ‘the BOB’ instead. Either way, there was no shortage of aviation-related jokes in your household.

“They’re fine,” you replied with a small smile. “But they’re not that big yet, so there’s still plenty of time for the Seresin genes to kick in.”

“You say that like Rosie isn’t your mini me,” Jake quipped, gently pulling his hat off of Rosie’s head. He placed it back on top of his own head and pressed another kiss to her cheek. “I mean, look at her. She’s all you. So beautiful.”

And well, Jake wasn’t exaggerating too much. Rosie did look a lot like you did when you were a baby. Your mom provided the evidence by sending you a bunch of old photos. There were a few bits of Jake here and there in Rosie, but the biggest evidence of her Seresin heritage was her attitude. She was a sassy little girl who was not afraid to say what was on her mind.

Jake thought that it was hilarious. You were just waiting until she got a little older.

“Is that how you got this promotion so quickly?” you cooed, cupping your husband’s cheek. “Because you’re such a good kiss up.”

“One of my many talents,” he replied with a wink, pressing a kiss to your palm. “I’d be happy to show you some of my other talents later, Mrs. Seresin.”

“You already knocked me up, Jake.”

“No harm in practicing,” he responded, smirking proudly.

The two of you moved on to greet and chat with all the different people at the ceremony. Rosie was never detached from her dad’s hip and you were rarely further than an arm’s length away from him either. It was like Jake assumed that everyone was here to celebrate how successful he was in his personal life and not his professional one.

But your daughter was only going to happily sit on her dad’s hip for so long.

It always started subtly. She would wiggle more and let out an occasional whine. Then she would get grabby if she wasn’t given attention. Rosie grabbed at Jake’s uniform, his medals, and his hat again. And when Jake patiently pulled her hand away every time, she got more frustrated. Grabbing at his ear and his nose, Rose whined again. Louder this time.

“What’s the matter, Princess?” Jake asked softly, grabbing her hand.

Rosie pouted, tired and cranky, and flopped against her dad dramatically. Burying her face into his shoulder, she whined again and curled up against him. All it took was a quick check of his watch to know that it was past Rosie’s usual nap time.

“It’s alright, sweetheart, I’ll get you home. Just give me a moment, okay?”

Jake rubbed Rose’s back and pressed a kiss to her hair before turning to the other officers that he had been talking with since the ceremony finished up.

“I’m sorry, but I have to go,” Jake apologized, trying to rock Rose a bit.

“We’ve all been there,” an older officer informed Jake with a knowing smile. “Take care.”

Excusing himself from his conversation, Jake walked a few steps over to where you were talking with a few other civilians. Gently calling your name, Jake leaned towards you to speak softly.

“I think that Rosie’s ready to go,” he stated, rubbing your daughter’s back to try and soothe her some more.

You quickly agreed and the two of you said your polite goodbyes before making your way to the car. Jake put Rosie into her car seat and placed her phoenix plushie in her lap to soothe her. Then he walked around to double check on you as you climbed into the passenger seat.

“Jake,” you sighed as he reached around to do your seat belt for you, “I would have gotten it.”

“You’re carrying precious cargo,” Jake insisted, clipping your seatbelt in place.

You gave him a kiss in thanks before he walked around and got into the driver’s seat. The drive back to your home was enough to settle Rosie to sleep, which you were very thankful for.

Jake carried her inside and put her down for her nap before heading into your bedroom. You stood in front of your mirror, wiping the makeup that you put on away.

“She stayed asleep?” you asked, glancing over at your husband.

“She’s asleep,” Jake echoed, placing the baby monitor down on the dresser. He placed his dress hat down as well before walking over to you. “Let me help you out of that.”

You shook your head with amusement as Jake started to undo your dress for you. But despite your show of pretend annoyance, you still helped Jake out with the process. Pulling your arms out of your dress and stepping out of it when it pooled on the ground, you pressed a kiss to your husband’s lips. Jake went and hung up your dress while you fixed your hair. But it wasn’t long before Jake returned and moved to unhook your bra.

“You haven’t even taken your coat off yet,” you huffed, even if you complied.

“You like it when I’m wearing my dress whites,” Jake reminded you, tossing your bra away.

He leaned over and pressed a series of kisses to your neck that quickly muddled your brain. It didn’t help that your pregnancy brain always seemed to short-circuit whenever your husband touched you. And, well, Jake was well-versed in how to get you riled up as evidenced by how confidently his hands moved to those particular spots.

“May I remind you of the night that we spent in that honeymoon suite in Texas?” he mused, nipping at the sensitive skin behind your ear

“Yes,” you breathed out, as Jake’s fingers slipped underneath the band of your underwear.

“You’re a little overdressed for a repeat of that night, Mrs. Seresin. Don’t you think?”

You lightly smacked your husband on the arm for that remark, earning a deep chuckle from your husband.

“You’re annoying, you know that?” you sighed, turning your head to lock eyes with him.

“You love me, Mrs. Seresin,” Jake insisted confidently. He pressed another soft kiss to your lips before smiling proudly. “I know you do.”

“Yeah, I guess I do,” you replied with a genuine smile. “Commander Ser—”

You didn’t even get to finish your sentence before Jake’s lips were back on yours. And that was a good thing because you probably would have risked waking your daughter up with the sound that you made when Jake’s fingers started moving just right.

Well, at least you were already pregnant.

A.N. Thank you to everyone who read this little series! I'm glad that you guys enjoyed it so much!

Master List Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Tag List (First 50 since there's a limit):

@djs8891 @avengers-fixation @dreamsofouterspace @maverick-wingman @rosiahills22 @bethabear12 @laneylovesglen @blue-aconite @mercurio23 @awildewit @caitsymichelle13 @mamaskillerqueen @emorychase @the-romanian-is-bae @novagreen04 @gigisimsonmars @olliepig @laneyspaulding19 @clancycucumber230 @eli2447 @luckyladycreator2 @marantha @ashbatz @emilyoflanternhill @riri-is-agirlie @goslytherin @phantomxoxo @imaginecrushes @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @mizzzpink @miss-i-ship-it @topaz125 @healanette @sarahsmi13s @buckysdollforlife @looneylikesbooks @fighterpilothoe @lunamoonbby @fav-fanficssss @lorilane33 @angelbabyange @swanqueens-blog @ilovewriting06 @linkpk88 @mallerz @sky0401 @lunamooncole @potterheadandsherlocked @rogersbarnesxx @iammirrorball

[wuffgang-ameowdeus-moozart]

Yet another average day in Family Video:

"Hey. Remember when you said that you'd totally fuck Jonathan."

"When...? Oh, yeah. What the fuck that was literally a month ago why are you mentioning that now?"

"Because that was the same conversation we decided to get the matching tramp stamps. And trying to hide those from my parents is a literal pain in the ass. Pun fully intended. I can't even sit straight and-"

"I'd say you can't do anything straight"

"Not like I can do anything str- fuck you"

Steve swaggers to the back and takes out the whiteboard they purchased together - on ROBIN'S SUGGESTION may he add.

"Can't believe you're losing in your own game. About bad jokes. And being gay. Which are basically your two only personality traits."

Robin's side is embarrassingly empty. He sees it as cosmic karma for her you-suck-game during their scoops ahoy era.

"Alright mister little bitch"

"And yet, this little bitch is beating you in your own game"

Robin shows him the finger. Steve bites the finger because he is a little shit and things like boundaries and personal space have already lost all meaning between the two of them.

In this moment the front doors open. The elderly man takes one look at the scene before him and leaves without a word.

"Where did the Jonathan thing come from?"

"Dunno. I was bored. Thought it'd be funny to see you go through a gay crisis."

"Not much of a crisis if I already admitted to it."

"You're no fun."

"Really? That was not what my dad said three months ago. According to him I am a fucking joke."

"Coming from Harrington Senior that's honestly a compliment"

"Please remind me of that the next time I radio you at 3 am. Who is on tape duty?"

"I did it last time."

"Alright" Steve nods towards the small pile of romcoms they have pointedly not been reshelving for the last half an hour. "Enjoy your alone time in the romance section."

"Do you think it would be an invasion of privacy if we checked who returned all that? It was either an epic girls night of an awful breakup." Her voice gets fainter as she moves to the back of the store.

"Nah. We're in the land of the free or whatever. Wait, let me do it"

"You're only saying that so you can procrastinate asshole"

"Does that mean you don't want to know who took them? Because I promise you, you really really do."

"Don't ask if you already know the answer dingus"

"Guess"

"Ummm....power bottom."

"What?"

"Like with Jonathan. Would you rather he call the shots or the other way around?"

She makes a series of incomprehensible movements that are probably supposed to represent intercourse between two men.

"This is the reason god made you a lesbian"

"And thank him for that. Amen."

"Why are you so obsessed with Jonathan anyway."

"You're deflecting"

"Yeah sure, I am deflecting. C'mon, Buckley. Resume or later?"

"Who was the one who took all the romcoms?"

"If I tell you, will you tell me what's really going on?"

"Depends on your answer."

"I thought you weren't interested in my sex life? Every time-"

In this moment the door opens again. Two girls come in, arm in arm. One is wearing a look that can only be described as disgust, the other is clearly trying to hold in laughter with moderate success.

Over the course of many painful months of customer service (plus surviving an interrogation by the actual Russian secret service) Steve and Robin have developed the ability to hold entire conversations without speaking a single word. It is a very neat talent to have when they want to make fun of someone right in front of them. It is less neat when he is the target.

Robin raises her brows. C'mon dingus, tell these random ass girls about your sex life since you're so proud of it.

Steve frowns in response. Yeah, sure Mrs. Never Even Had A First Kiss.

Robin narrows her eyes. I did have a first kiss. Even if it was absolutely horrible.

Steve puts on his most insufferable expression. You yourself said that it doesn't count. No need to be so jealous Buckley.

Robin rolls her eyes. Alright, I want to see you trying to find a-

"Do you have ET?", Robin doesn't say because, oh yeah, they've got actual customers.

Steve solemnly informs them that ET is current out of stock, but that it should be returned in two days. Robin somehow manages to force her last two movies upon them. They leave with a dazed look on their face that Steve can relate to. Sometimes Robin will start talking and the next thing you know you have a tramp stamp.

"Tommy Hagan"

Robin looks absolutely disgusted. "Tommy Hagan?! You would kiss Tommy Hagan? And then you have the audacity to make fun of my taste in women?!"

"First of all: me and Hagan? Been there done that." Robin looks as if her entire worldview was just flipped upside down. "Second: probably not, he uses a bit too much tongue for my liking. I mean that Tommy Hagan was the one who rented all the romcoms"

Robin takes a moment to process this information. Then she dramatically falls to the floor and squirms around in laughter like a bug on its back trying to get up again. Truly a drama kid through and through.

"And thirdly: for your information, I super could make out with Jonathan Byers. Unlike you, I've got game"

"You don't mean gay-me?"

Steve rolls his eyes and takes out the whiteboard again. He is still in the lead.

"And also, excuse you, I totally could make out with Nancy if I wanted to, okay?! I'm just not a homewrecker unlike some other people"

"Excuse me? I was the one who was cheated on?!"

"I'm insulting your taste, dingus"

"Rich coming from you, since we apparently share the same one"

For a moment she looks confused. Then she thinks back to what she said. Steve can pinpoint the exact moment she realizes it.

"Is this the reason you want me to be into Jonathan so bad? Because you're into Nancy?" Steve feels like a smug cat when her entire upper body grows red.

"Shut up she's just pretty okay?!"

"And badass. Don't forget badass."

"Oh my god I know. Ever since I saw her shooting I haven't been able to get her out of my mind."

"Right?! And as if that isn't enough, she has to go and be smart too! Like, c'mon, she has to have some faults. Some downsides. Nobody is that prefect!"

"Oh my god I know! And-"

They continue like that for a while. Time runs away from them and suddenly Hellfire Club is over and Steve's kids (minus Max, he notes with a heavy heart) are barging into the place as if they own it, for no reason other than to be absolute menaces.

"And like. Robin. She was so hot in that moment. I swear to-"

"Who are you talking about?". Steve is used to Dustin being a rude little shit and automatically answers without even thinking about it. "Nancy."

He realizes his mistake too late. He looks up. Mike's eyes are wide in horror. "I hate you so fucking much" he says before turning around and leaving.

Robin sighs. "I guess that is the downside."

-> the tramp stamp conversation

-> gatekeeping 101

-> breaking out of a heteronormative mindset

[maccreadysbaby]

A Hundred Ways to Become a Wayne

batfamily + oc insert

tw: gore

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

shaha… nico makes me sad lmao

part forty-three

❝ IMPOSTER ❞

SATURDAY — SEPTEMBER 12 — 8:56PM

THE WORLD WAS MOVING WITHOUT BENTLEY, AND IT WAS THE MOST TERRIFYING THING HE’D EVER EXPERIENCED. 

He couldn’t move. He was pinned to the debris by the massive shard of metal that was protruding from his chest, and all of his pain meshed into one strange feeling of numbness. The only thought that was bouncing around in his head was the last statement he heard from Jason.

That Asten wasn’t breathing.

Asten wasn’t breathing.

Asten couldn’t be dead. He couldn’t. That wasn’t how this was supposed to end. None of this was supposed to end like this. The world could go on without Bentley Whittaker. Everything would be fine without Bentley Whittaker. But how could the earth keep spinning without Asten Evans?

He guessed he should’ve expected it. Nothing he does ever goes right. Only this time it went so, so wrong. Death wrong.

(Was Asten dead because of him?)

There was no one around him. No one that knew where he was except maybe Nico, who was unconscious. All he could really see were the tall buildings and night’s sky over his head, the end of the metal sticking out of him. He couldn’t lift his head, couldn’t really move.

He twitched his fingers on his right hand, which caused a jolt of pain that ran through his entire body and made him whine. 

Was there a point in calling for help if he already knew he was going to die?

His eyes began to water at the half-realization that he was literally living out his last moments alone in a pile of rubble. The thought helped him force his hand up a little more, up toward his pounding head. His muscles were trembling from the effort, and it hurt so bad to move anything… but he didn’t want to die. He didn’t. (But he was going to, he knew. What was one last streak of denial?)

He clicked his earpiece on, and was greeted by a low, constant, staticky hum.

“Help,” He muttered, his voice coming out strangely hoarse and soft. “Help.”

The static continued, melding with the low sounds of the remaining crackling fire and shifting rubble.

“I’m… dying,”

Static.

Bentley’s stinging eyes spilled over down his face, but he couldn’t really cry, it hurt too bad — all he could do was let his eyes water. “Help me. Please. Please, help me.”

Nothing. 

“I don’t… I don’t… I don’t want to die,” He muttered, sniffling lightly, staring at the sky. “I don’t want to die alone.”

Silence.

“Batman,” He tried, wincing when he sobbed a few times anyways. “B, please. I-I don’t want to die by myself. Please.”

The only response he got was a shift in the rubble beneath him, and the twinkle of the stars above him.

He coughed, which sent a ripping pain through his whole body that made him cry out in agony — and now there was blood on his face. Had he coughed up blood?

“Bruce... Bruce, please. Please. I-I want to go home,”

The static in the earpiece didn’t budge.

Bentley was going to die here, and alone.

He would’ve wiped the tears off of his face, but even the thought of moving produced agony, so he didn’t. “Bruce, please. Please, please, please… Dad, please.”

Silence.

(How was he supposed to come to terms with dying? How did people do this? How did Jason…? Damian?)

There was an oddly familiar whooshing sound, and Bentley could’ve swore he heard feet hit the ground not too far from him. If he had the willpower to move his head, he might’ve tried to look at whoever was there to mock him.

Not a second later came a shrill: “Oh my God! Oh my God no way! I did it!” 

The voice wasn’t one he knew, but it wasn’t not one he knew. It was a guy’s, and he didn’t recognize it. (But he kind of did?)

“Screw you, space-time! Barry’s gonna lose his mind when I tell him-“ There was a pause. “Oh, shit, right.”

There were footsteps that came oddly close to Bentley, but he only saw the figure they belonged to when it was practically looming over his head. It was a tall guy -- maybe Jason’s age, maybe Tim’s -- in a bright yellow, white, and red jumpsuit. The majority of it was yellow, with red and white stripes on the arms and legs, accentuating a large white lightning bolt in the center of the chest. The suit went all the way up to his head and stopped, sort of like Tim’s cowl but with the top cut out so his hair was showing. He also had a utility belt around his waist, with only one small, yellow pouch on it.

This guy looked just like Nico. 

Okay, so, yeah, Bentley was dying and probably hallucinating, but this guy had Nico’s eyes that looked so much like Dick’s. Not to mention that he had the same exact dirty-blonde mop on his head, dangling over the edges of the suit.

Bentley really was losing his mind.

“Hey… Hey there, bud,” The Adult Nico Imposter said, kneeling down next to him, his hands hovering unsurely over Bentley’s wound. His blue eyes very quickly turned misty and watery, getting bluer in that weird way only Dick’s and Nico’s did when they cried. “I never saw...”

Bentley’s half-hearted response was a soft, simple: “Huh?”

The Adult Nico Imposter rubbed his hand over his hair, exhaling heavily. “Okay. Okay. Hi. Hi, Bentley, uh, it’s me… Nico, but, uh… not yours. I’m Nico from the future, and I’ve just broken the space-time continuum to be here. So, here I am. God, great job explaining, you idiot,” He muttered to himself, his eyes still blown wide and staring at Bentley’s abdomen. “In the timestream I came from, you died tonight, and now I’m here to make sure you don’t, uh, like Barry did for me. But, uh, I’m not taking you to a new universe, just… yeah. Anyways. Can I pick you up?”

Bentley blinked. He was literally losing his mind.

Since speaking to a hallucination couldn’t really hurt anything, and he didn’t want to die alone (even if his company was blood-loss-generated), he nodded as much as he could force himself to.

With a nod and a deep breath, the Nico Imposter opened the little pouch on his belt and pulled an inhaler out, shaking it and puffing on it a few times with that telltale rattle-rattle-hiss-hiss.

And it was strange, because everything, down to the material of this guy’s suit to the pain caused by movement of the metal piece, Future Nico picking him up felt really… real.

“You’re… from… the future?” Bentley muttered, watching the buildings and stars move above him. Future Nico was really warm, and it felt nice. (Was it even real?)

“Yeah. But saving you is about to make a new one. I’ll have to go back to mine when I’m done here,” He explained lightly, sitting Bentley in his grasp, cupping his head with one hand. 

Bentley hummed. “Did Asten live?”

There was a moment of silence. Future Nico’s gaze fell to the ground, his eyes going distant for a moment.

“No. It was just me,” He replied, shaking his head. “I’m about to run. It might feel weird.”

Bentley said nothing, but closed his eyes and waited. Going super fast couldn’t feel much weirder than being impaled and then picked up by a guy from the future, could it? He was pretty sure his life had reached the maximum amount of weird. Either that or his hallucinations had?

There was a split second (or three) where Bentley couldn’t breathe, and it was really cold. It felt kind of like he was pinned down for a moment, like his whole body stopped moving and then started again.

When he opened his eyes, he was in a medical bed in the Batcave.

The only explanation Future Nico gave was a stammery: “Sorry, Mr. Pennyworth… yeah, hi, um… I’m Nico, but from the future, and I brought Bentley here so he can… Y’know! I… I’ve gotta run, I’ll be right back!”

There was a flash and a gust of wind, and the Future Nico was gone.

Bentley was surely losing his mind.

He was in the cave. (But was he really, if he was just hallucinating?) Barbara was now at the computer, and Bentley very vaguely saw Alfred toss an earpiece to her and abandon his spot at the massive screens to run into the medbay toward him.

“Oh, my dear boy…”

Bentley opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Alfred seemed so real. He touched Bentley’s arm and it felt real. He sounded real. There was no way he… that Future Nico was…?

Maybe Bentley really wouldn’t die?

(There surfaced that unhinged, deep, unmistakable hope and determination again that Bentley Whittaker was so famous for.)

Maybe he really wouldn’t die.

—

Okay. So the worst part about the entire situation at hand actually wasn’t that Bentley had a giant piece of metal protruding from his chest.

It was the fact that Alfred couldn’t get him unconscious enough to start surgery.

He typically had the opposite problem — his body seemed to love passing out at every opportunity, even at the worst times. But right now, Alfred had already administered nearly twice the typical amount of sedatives recommended. And while Bentley was pretty loopy, he just wasn’t going out of it. He’d had two small injections, and was now rocking an oxygen mask with an anesthetic pumping through it constantly to get him in a state where Alfred could help. And it still wasn’t working.

But, even worse than that, was the fact that he had to see Asten.

It wasn’t long (probably three minutes after Bentley arrived) before Future Nico (who had to actually exist because Alfred was talking to him?) zoomed back into view and laid Asten on the bed next to Bentley.

He was limp, and already extremely pale. Bentley wasn’t lucid enough to focus on whether his chest was rising or falling, but he didn’t guess it was, since Jason said it wasn’t. Asten looked… strange. Different from unconscious or sleeping. It was colder. Stranger.

Maybe three minutes (and more sedative) later, Future Nico swooshed back into the cave with Current Nico, who was still unconscious and bleeding at the nose, and put him on the other side of Bentley. But Future Nico was very persistent about Alfred not worrying about him, that he ended up being okay even in his own reality where no one came to his aid.

That was about the time the Batmobile came squealing into the cave, followed by bike after bike with different Wayne’s on them each time. After that, the cave turned into a mess of shouting and yelling and panicking and loud noises and chaos and Bentley still couldn't go to sleep. He couldn’t really comprehend what was going on, but he was awake, which was too awake for the operations he needed.

He didn’t really know what to focus on (or if he could focus) until Nightwing came into his view, over his head, peeling his domino mask off. He was crying — hard. Bentley couldn’t really talk through the oxygen mask (not that he could talk anyways.) but he was able to twitch his fingers and get Dick to grab his hand.

“You’re going to be okay, Babybird. You’re going to be just fine,”

A beat passed. 

“I love you,”

Bentley felt a pinch on his arm, likely meaning someone had injected him with something else.

He couldn’t seem to create any coherent thoughts. He liked that Dick was holding his hand. He was glad to be home, even if he died. At least he wasn’t dying alone.

He opened his mouth in an attempt to speak, but coughed instead, and the inside of his oxygen mask got splattered with something dangerously red.

Seeing that color seemed to spark a wave of panic, and he blinked away a new wave of tears that threatened to come.

“…Dad,” He managed to just barely rasp, coughing again, splattering more red on the mask. “Dad.”

Dick said something, he didn’t really hear it. Someone else said something. 

He managed to turn his head just far enough to see someone (he couldn’t tell who) put a defibrillator on Asten’s chest, and with a loud bang! he convulsed terrifyingly. 

After a moment, someone turned Bentley’s head away. Bruce’s face appeared in the empty space in his vision.

“Everything’s going to be okay, chum,” He said, putting on that same stupid reassuring smile that he loved to plaster on and keep there with his life, even in the worst situations. He touched Bentley’s forehead like he always did.

“You’re going to be okay. Just breathe. Rest,”

Bentley wasn’t going to die alone.

Bruce kept brushing his hair back, smiling all the while, and for the first time since he’d been home, Bentley relaxed enough to let the sedatives take him under.

—

dedicated to @sassenashsworld 💚

—

tag list! (If you want me to remove or add you, ask in comments!)

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @flyrobinflyy @skylathescholar @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun @xiaonothere @beatyoutothatusernameloser

[marigoldbaker]

more consistent than living

wrote a little thing about briar and her new familiar :)

The upsetting thing about the bunny, thought Briar, was that it was a nice bunny. It was the kind of bunny where you could very easily imagine it curling up peaceably in the crook of Khalid’s arm at the end of a long day, or chewing on Immy’s hair just because Briar asked it to. Dynaheir always said she didn’t like Boo, but she would have liked that bunny—she’d been saying that Briar needed a proper familiar to help focus her magic, and now she was dead, and she wouldn’t meet the bunny. No one important had met the bunny.

Jaheira had met the bunny. That didn’t really make Briar feel much better. All that meant was that Jaheira also got to look at the bunny and think about how much Khalid would have liked it, which compounded that feeling of awful, clawing grief that never, never left. And then sometimes Briar would brush too close to thinking about her dad, and about what happened every time she asked someone to take care of things for her like a dad might, how there was somehow one dad who never failed to fucking deliver when it came to what he did, what he made others do, and she’d feel something new and terrible bubbling under her skin—whatever had woken up when she’d seen Khalid on that table. She felt it growing closer every day.

Anyway. The bunny. It felt like it belonged to that beautiful, excited, multi-colored bard, hair striped through with pink and green, always wearing a cacophony of color that brought her all sorts of scolding from Jaheira, because it didn’t blend in with nature and she needed to learn how to be subtle and sneak up on people. It was really, really sweet, which Briar the adventure bard would have liked tremendously in a pet—as much as she’d liked something that was a rambunctious problem-causer, what she’d liked most was having something to look out for and take care of, because back then she’d thought she was good at it. The gods only knew why she’d thought she was good at it.

She was good at it now, apparently, because they’d been at it three days and the bunny wasn’t dead. The bunny was so small and soft that Briar was actually starting to get mad that it wasn’t dead. Khalid had been so much stronger than that stupid fucking bunny, and her dad had been even stronger than that, and—well—apparently all Briar could protect was the bunny.

Maybe she wasn’t good at protecting. Maybe there were other things she could try out doing.

“Have you thought up a name yet?” asked Hexxat.

“Why give it a name?” said Briar. “It’s going to be dead in a tenday.” The bunny, unbothered by Briar’s cutting, caustic, probably evil-by-birthright personality, settled into the crook of her elbow and cuddled in, drifting into a little bunny nap. “Don’t do that,” said Briar, and was completely ignored.

Jaheira looked at Briar like she wanted to say something, then looked back down at her dinner with her jaw tight.

“That thing is going to be dead in a tenday if you coddle it,” said Viconia.

“I’m not coddling it!” said Briar hotly. “And where the fuck do you get off, anyway, accusing me of coddling—”

Viconia gestured to the bunny, which was still cuddled in Briar’s arms, and said, “The more you love something, abbil, the more painful it will become to lose it. You would do well to steel yourself against that pain, rather than burying your head in the sand and refusing to admit to your own affections.”

“Fuck you,” said Briar.

Jaheira looked up again, this time like she really wanted to say something, and then glared back down at her dinner, stabbing it with her hunting knife instead of her spoon.

“I don’t love it,” said Briar. “It literally won’t leave me alone. It’s not my fault if it’s too—if it’s not—it’s going to die anyway, so—”

“Or it will turn into something you don’t know,” said Jaheira tightly, “and don’t know how to help.”

“Yeah!” said Briar, gesturing to Jaheira. “Or that!”

Hexxat looked like she half regretted asking the question. Lying back against a tree, she said resignedly, “At the very least, Briar, it needs a name.”

“Bunny’s a fine name,” said Briar. “Serviceable.”

Jaheira’s mouth twisted. Briar knew they were probably thinking about the same thing. She’d named her bagpipes The Miracle Purple Squash Noisemaker; she’d named Khalid’s supply pack Old Reliable, she’d named the little squirrel that had followed them for a few days Mr. Intrepid. Bunny didn’t have quite the same ring to it as all those other names. Not even close.

“Name it Dead In A Tenday, then,” said Viconia, “if you’re trying to come up with something descriptive and accurate.”

Jaheira stabbed her dinner with her hunting knife again and actually almost tore through the tin plate underneath. Briar settled back against the tree, and sort of against Hexxat, and looked down at the bunny.

“Death,” she said.

“Hmm.” Hexxat sounded amused. “I don’t think I’ve met a bunny named Death before.”

“Well, if everyone’s going to give me grief about the bunny not having a name, there, it’s got a name now,” said Briar. “And it’s a good name. I like death. You can’t stop it, and it’s forever; it’s more consistent than living, anyway.”

“One of the few wise statements out of your fool mouth,” said Viconia.

Jaheira’s knife tore through the plate. Her hands were bloody, and it wasn’t clear whether it was the meat or the metal that had done it.

Briar’s eyes lingered on the blood. Considering.

[ginalinettiofficial]

hey what’s up hello okay so i finally just finished s2 e52 of dndads (had a very crazy work week so was listening in bits and pieces) and here’s the thing is that im also currently relistening to the whole season and earlier in this week, the most recent episode i finished, was halt and catch fireball, and before that ya know was mrs. swallows oak garcia’s home for peculiar teens or whatever that one is called where they are just. at normal’s house and we got to actually get to know rebecca a little bit and i have got to say that i don’t know if i could’ve picked a more painful and wild older ep to listen to as a precursor to dood riddance i really don’t!!! literally half of the shit in dood riddance just circles back to that arc in the swallows oak garcia home and it’s CRAZY

like first of all. the red vines, which they called twizzlers the entirety of e52 which was MADDENING as a person who legit just finished e30/31 where the red vines were introduced

but then like. e31 is where taylor gets the anime sword from nick!!! that he loses in e52!!!

there were a few other things that i’ve forgotten in the half an hour since i finished the ep because my brain is a sieve on a good day and i’m just getting home from two back to back 13 hour shifts (with an extra 1hr10/20 each day for the commute) so the brain machine is so fucking broke rn

but mainly. i wasn’t loving e52 esp after dood left i just was not vibing with it, i feel like the vibes were off in the room in a way that translated into the ep for a bit there, but then anthony in those last like three minutes brought it back around and with the roll of rebecca??? after i legit JUST finished listening to the eps that feature her the most prominently and like truly showcase not only normal’s relationship w his mom but also, as is said several times in e30/31 and their teen talks, just how similar normal IS to his mom and how he really clearly is a total momma’s boy and very much so seemed to be a kid who sought solace with his mom more than anyone else in his family and just. having legit JUST reestablished that in my own, made the end of e52 DEVASTATING for me in a way that idk if it was for other ppl??? idk haven’t checked the fandom yet im very disconnected this season but just.

like

i think that okay so we have ten parents it could’ve been, right? and five of those are the kiddads, and none of us want to see them die, so in that moment when anthony was telling us what was gonna happen, obviously my instinct was like “oh god don’t do this don’t do terry jr again but truly permanent” and then my next instinct was that it would be potentially even MORE awful if it was scary’s dad because finally there he is and that’s ALL she wants and for willy to take that moment from her would be INSANE and then (mind you this was my thought process over the course of literally 10 seconds, my brain is ping ponging in my head and has been since the second i got in the car to head home i need to sleep) and THEN my next thought was, oh god, but how fucked up would it be if it were marco??? oh god, how fucked up would it be if it were cassandra?!?!?!?! and then it was time for the roll and truly in those brief seconds basically my brain flicked through every potential victim and said “oh god THAT one would be the WORST”, EXCEPT for veronica and rebecca, and it made the hit of it being rebecca who was low down on my instinctual list to think of but then the second he said her name i was immediately ricocheted back to earlier in the week when i was listening to halt and catch fireball and mrs. swallows oak garcias home and how many emotions i had about normal and his mom just relistening to those episodes and then the fact that i DIDNT think to worry about her just

all of that combined to make that a CRITICAL HIT FOR ME OKAY like i am SO fucked up over this truly that was WILD and i applaud anthony burch for it and now am excited for the finale even though ive spent the last three eps just dreading it for several reasons but now im excited and devastated and i love that

anyways. that was word vomit i just NEEDED to get this out because the connections between those two episodes really will not stop hitting me in the head and i need to impart that onto SOMEONE. if u read this. ur a real one. rip rebecca swallows oak garcia you were a legend and i am so sad about u

[pjharvey-moved]

it’s 8:50am which is about two hours earlier than i planned on waking up but my mom texted me at 8:10 and then pinged my phone saying she rescheduled my dermatology appointment but it would be for a less than optimal time and then asking me if i’d managed to get any sleep tonight, i got about three and a half hours but that text makes me think she might not have slept at all. which makes sense bc i literally can’t fathom losing my own dad that way. and me and all my siblings were with her when she got the call from her little brother bc my mom’s birthday was a few days ago, it was my mom’s birthday dinner :(

[punchratt]

Indulging in my brainrot again, heres that longer bg3 character design post i was talking about! (@dragonageshitpostingelves, i didnt forget you <3) Also, Spoiler Warning, i talk a lot about the companions backstory and quests, so don't read if you haven't finished those. Or do, I don't care.

Im gonna be honest and admit right now that I am sadly NOT a professional character designer, but instead just a nerd who likes to draw. I think the bg3 designs are amazing as they are and deserve a hell of a lot more praise then their already getting. That being said, i have many opinions about these funny little tadpole people. The first of them being that Gale, Wyll, and Astarion should not look like that. I mean, they all literally have the same body model, just give or take few scars and some hair, then swap the head. Which i think is a little shocking considering that the girls have much more diverse body types. Normally its the other way around.

First, Astarion. I love him, but i should not be able to grate cheese on his abs. Dude was a slave surviving off rats and living in the shadows for over 200 years, he's a rouge with 8 strength and no work out plan other then squatting so he can hide better. The last thing he should have is a six pack. I am a firm believer in scrawny Astarion, that man is wet noodle, he is malnourished and it should show. I should be able to see that mans ribs. Play that boy like a xylophone. This twink is not twinking right now and its driving me insane!

Im not saying he cant be sexy, in fact i think its very important that he is sexy. A big chunk of his story has to do with his relationship with sex and how he views romance as a whole. The whole point of his story is that he seems like the sexy vampier stereotype, but is actually a much more in depth character with a very complicated relationship to sex and romance. He needs to look sexy for that to work. But you don't gotta have a six pack to look sexy! Whenever i see him without a shirt all i can think of is that abs just don't look right on him. Everything else i think they've gotten perfect, he really does look like the character he's supposed to be and i can only applaud Larian for getting it so right, just.. lose the abs.

Second, Gale. I feel like I've already summed up how i feel about his design in my last post, but i like talking so i'm gonna say more! Gale should be chubby!! All he likes to do is ponder his orb, talk to his cat, and study magic. I firmly believe that he also has a side passion for food. After all, what is cooking if not potion brewing but different? Gale can appreciate a good meal and it should show! After all, eating and food is integral to his character with the whole arcane hunger thing he has going on. Give me my dad bod Gale and all wrongs in this world will be righted.

But to be a little more serious about this, i think his story becomes all the more poetic and tragic if you view him as someone who loves food. Because just imagine that you have three things you love, magic, food, and your goddess girlfriend. Now imagine that one day, to impress your goddess girlfriend, you do something kinda really stupid and end up with a magic nuke in your chest. But wait, it gets worse! Because of this failed grand gesture your goddess girlfriend breaks up with and banishes you. She leaves you to deal with this whole thing by yourself, all you have now is your cat and cooking. But wait, it gets even worse!! No matter how much you eat, yu arent ful, so you're constantly starvinng now, and thats how you find out that the bomb in your chest feeds on magic! Which means that now Gale has to ether find a way to keep it fed or he's gonna kamikaze half the swords coast. Meaning he has to eat any magical artifacts he gets his hands on while also dealing with the emotional damage of everything else. Food, one of the only things he had left, is now a stressful reminder of the fucked up situation he's in.

Now I don't think that means Gale starts to hate food, or resent it in some way, I still think he's the adorable little foodie goofball dork who insisted on being the camp cook. But i do think it makes his whole relationship with food something much more bittersweet, which is very interesting and something i feel could be reflected better in his already amazing design.

Third, Wyll. Wyll, I believe, is the most likely to be buff out of these three. Though, I don't think he'd show it as much as he does. We know he likes to dance, and that he enjoys a good sword fight more then anything! He used to fence with his father and overall is a very active guy. He is probably the character that most matches his body, there aren't many things I'd change. That being said, he is still a warlock with less strength then a hamster. He wouldn't be that muscly.

My dude is the son of a Grand Duke, he's had a relatively cushy life that didnt really get all that much harder after his dad gave him the boot (dick move btw). He's struggled, defiantly! But i don't think it'd be a reach to say that Wyll might have a little fat on him. I dont really have much to say other then i think he'd benefit from taking those abs away and putting that bulk somewhere else. When I imagine Wyll I imagine a man with some arm game and a pudgy belly. Maybe some calf muscle too, but overall nothing too defined since he doesn't really use strength in combat. I mean, why does Wyll have more defined abs then Lae'zel? Of all the origin characters she should have the most defined abs of the group. Not these three clowns(affectionate).

Wyll is a softie with a heart of gold, he should get to have a soft body to go with it. Plus it'd add more contrast between what parts are devil and what aren't. Sharp rough horns, a scarred face, and striking but intimidating eyes juxtaposed against a soft but somewhat built frame, quick whit, and a generally nice attitude make for a very interesting design! One that i think would be much more compelling then the kinda default muscly hero build he has now.

Now compare those to the secrete fourth option i didnt tell you about! Halsin! I think Halsin is designed perfectly and there is nothing i would change. He uses a unique body model from the other three and his design perfectly captures who he is as a character. He's big, appropriately buff, and looks kind. I look at that man and i think "yeah, thats a guy who occasionally turns into a bear", and he does! He looks like a natural born leader who knows how to make those tough decisions, he looks as inviting as he acts, and he looks like he gives amazing hugs. Bear hugs if you will! That man is a bear in every sense of the word, and whats more druid then that?

I only really brought him up to set him as sort of a standard for the designs of this game, because almost every single design is just as perfect and well thought out as his. I could go on for several more paragraphs about other characters and why their also perfect, or what other small little changes id make to their designs (cough cough, Lae'zel abs, cough) but this thing is getting long enough as is.

So to conclude. Fuck abs, and get them off my boys! If you've actually read this whole monstrosity, thank you. It took me over half a day to write and i still feel like i haven't touched on everything. Like, i didn't get to praise their designs nearly as much as i wanted to, but oh well. Maybe I'll make another post about the girls, maybe ill ramble about what i do like about the boys designs, i don't know. Depends on if anyone wants that, or if i still got gas left in the tank after this. Finally, please excuse any spelling errors and the inconsistent capitals. Its late, i have dyslexia, and i'll probably go back and fix it later. Thanks again for reading!

[toomuchracket]

more dad!matty for you for whenever you feel like it. I'm thinking about a very tiny, very smart 3 year old whos a carbon copy of her dad and one day after you finish work in the study, you go up to her room to find her holding an audience with all her stuffed toys. You stand behind the door and watch for a bit and baba's none the wiser because she's so engrossed. After a bit you realise what's happening, she's copying her dad. You've taken her to a few of his interviews before to show her the bts and also because she loves hanging out with her dad and her uncles. so now she's basically just imitating everything she's seen.

And you FT matty instantly, because maybe he's on tour at that point idk, and you shush him first and tell him to stay quiet while you point the camera at your daughter. and he absolutely cannot fucking handle the cuteness and he's trying so hard not to coo and squeal through the phone at her. and she's just babbling away to her toys and at one point she says a big word that none of you recognises and then she says it again at which point you clock that it's her trying to say "juxtaposition" but she's 3 and doesn't entirely know how to say it yet so you quietly tell matty what's happening and that's the point he loses it. and he's like "oh my precious girl, who's my smartest girl in the world. you are!!"

Baba obviously hears him and she comes running to you because she thinks her dad is home and he's just there through the phone like "can you say that for me again? can you say that word again?" 😭

baba 2, literally a matty clone!! you've picked her up from her half-day at nursery after WFH in the morning, and after you've both had a little bit of lunch you get her settled in her room with all her toys and a fruit shoot drink, before you head back to the study to just have a final glance over the legal report you finished earlier. and you go back up after maybe 30/45 mins to get her ready for a little walk before you both pick up her big sister from school, and as you reach the landing you can hear her chatting away to herself happily through the open door - when you get closer, you're able to pick out familiar words and phrases amidst the three-year-old rapid fire speech pattern, like "write a song about" and "wanted it to sound like", and you start smiling because you know what - or rather who - she's imitating. when you get closer and you can see her, you have to try so hard not to giggle; she's sat on her bed, talking to the teddy at the other end, with her protective headphones for shows on one ear and holding one of the microphones that plugs into your old xbox for singstar lmao, clearly doing an impression of matty from the radio interview he did last week that you all attended with him.

he and the guys are in new york for a couple of days, just finalising production on a new EP they're putting out in a few months, and it's maybe 9am for him so you figure he'll answer a facetime call - you duck into your bedroom quickly so baba doesn't hear, but you can still see her across the hall, and call matty. he picks up immediately like "hi sweetheart!", and you're like "hi my darling, just wanted to show you something, but you need to keep quiet!" and you dash back across the landing and flip the camera so he can see your daughter, still doing her interview bit. matty beams anyway at the sight of his littlest girl, his smile growing even more when he clocks what she's doing and saying; he actually has to clap a hand over his mouth to stop from cooing at how adorable she is, or cackling when she makes a confused facial expression that's just so him. and she goes a little bit quieter when she tries to say juxtaposition, because she's a little bit unsure of the pronunciation, and matty's like "what's she saying?" - you listen again and flip the camera around, grinning, like "juxtaposition", and matty cannot stop himself laughing a proper, full-belly laugh and going "oh, my baby!", so naturally seconds later your daughter appears in the doorway like "daddy?", headphones still half-on and her little face just lit up. you scoop her up so she can see matty, who's making little kissy noises and being like "were you pretending to be me? my clever girl, i am so proud of you, using all those big words! can you say juxtaposition for me again, precious girl?" - she nods and then says it like "just-a-position", and you and matty both cheer (because that's good for when you're literally three!!) while she snuggles into your neck giggling. and then she's like "miss you, daddy. home soon?", and matty does a sad little pout like "i miss you too baby, miss all of my girls. but i'll get home tomorrow night while you're asleep, so i'll see you in two mornings, alright?"; she nods again and then perks up to ask "will you have presents?", which makes you and matty laugh, and he's like "tell you what, i'll call you back once you and mummy have picked up your sister, and you can tell me what you want me to bring back from america. yeah?" and your daughter's like "deal" lmao <3

[ssjumi]

It's been literally 20 years since I wrote the YGO fic that to some regard still defines how I view my favorite OC babygirl Aileen to this day 💕✨

So this is a gift for teenage me, who would've probably pretended to be too cool to care, but would have absolutely lost her shit seeing our girl in the style of the show (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

For those curious, here's a little (updated) character profile of Aileen:

Aileen Noda

18yo (half a year older than Seto, so a class ahead of him)

🇯🇵 (dad), 🇮🇹 (mom)

her dad got sole custody after her parents (never married) split; she's not close to her mom but they're on friendly speaking terms

—

heiress to a multimillion dollar software company that was in business negotiations with the Kaiba Corporation at some point when it was still headed by Gozaburo

moved around a lot as a kid before spending her tweens and most of her teenage years in South England, when business took them there

fluent in English and Japanese (although a bit rusty when it comes to not sounding too direct/impolite with latter) - had one year of German and almost three years of Mandarin before moving schools - knows just enough Italian to survive as a casual tourist

not rly interested in daddy's business at the time/shortly before our story, but figures she still has many years to live her own life and find her passions before she has to step up anyway

(spoiler alert: nope, she does not)

—

has a driver's license and drives just well enough to not get it revoked but not so well that it's a joy to sit next to her

pretty pragmatic with a dry humor

comes off as very confident and independent

loses her dad tho shortly after they've moved to Domino and went into new negotiations with the KC, which rly fucks her up since she hasn't made any friends there yet and her dad was basically her entire support system, which she never realized until he was gone

develops a socially encouraged kind of unhealthy relationship to food and working out, which is not helped by the smaller sizes considered standard in Japan

—

for some reason falls for Seto Kaiba of all people and even ends up with him unaware that she could do a lot better but alas, who am i to tell my daughter No

A while ago I gave rewriting the earlier mentioned fanfic a try, but since YGO isn't my active main fandom anymore, I'll probably never finish it and if I do, it will have a very different format than the original story.

But since we're already in Long As Fuck Read More territory, I've included the prologue and another tiny snippet here, for those who are curious:

Surprising as it may seem, given how his face is plastered all over the city they live in, Yugi and his friends don't really think much about Seto Kaiba in their everyday lives.

They're doing their thing and he does his. … Whatever his thing is.

Building theme parks probably? Yugi remembers him mentioning something like this the last time they spoke but he's not sure anymore. The fact that Kaiba's been gracing class with his presence for the past few days probably means that things are going well enough for him to have the spare time. Although he's spending most of that time on his laptop anyway, not participating in class at all and left alone by the teachers as well.

No, really. Neither Yugi nor his friends know what Kaiba's thing actually is.

So they're a little surprised when after class, during cleaning duty, a girl in another school's uniform slips through the door and makes a beeline for the desk in the far corner of the room where Kaiba, true to his famous team spirit, is still fully focused on his personal work instead of helping his classmates.

One of her long, black pigtails slips over her shoulder as she snatches a glance at his laptop screen. To which Kaiba just reacts by closing said laptop and shoving it into his schoolbag. Which in turn puts a slightly too sweet, almost teasing smile onto her lips. "Want me to give you a ride home?" He sighs and mumbles something that sounds a lot like "There are worse ways to die, I guess" before getting up and following her outside.

It finally becomes apparent why a few of the guys in the class have spent the past couple minutes at the window - the car Kaiba follows that stranger to is a red Porsche cabriolet that looks like right out of a Hollywood movie.

Jounouchi doesn't know what to be more scandalized about - that Kaiba of all people is getting picked up by a cute girl while he doesn't or that some of his female classmates seem completely unimpressed by all of this because "everyone knows he has a girlfriend, duh". He and his friends exchange confused glances.

Seto Kaiba is weird in occasionally dangerous but usually just a little annoying ways and overall just not that interesting. And, as far as they're aware, he's also completely uninterested in making friends or even just understanding the basic concept of friendship - or interpersonal relationships in general.

And yet.

Seto Kaiba has a girlfriend.

If you're still here: Congrats! You earned yourself the secret knowledge that this fic by the way isn't just Seto/OC but also YamiYugi/Seto, as in: Seto is gonna cheat on her with Atem, as soon as he finds out that he can not just play intense card games with the guy but also have sex with him - which never even occured to him until he already had Ati's hand between his legs.

Aileen will break up with him over it.

In the timeline of the original fic from 20 years ago they did end up back together and even marrying though and it wasn't even too bad for a while but became a very unhappy relationship over time, during which she fell for (and had one passionate night with) Seto's assistant Isono. She got pregnant from him and Seto is kind of aware that it is likely not his child and she knows that he probably knows... while Isono tries very hard to tell himself that this kid surely can't be his, nope, no evidence of this one night means it never happened and he never wavered in his loyalty to his Kaiba-sama, it's fine, he's fine, they're all fine.

(It's still mostly him raising the child since Aileen soon realizes she has no idea where exactly to fit a child into her life and Seto... to his credit did manage to not have Mokuba die on him while responsible for him in his teen years, but if we're all honest here that was not by virtue of him being a responsible and trustworthy parental figure.)

I haven't made up my mind yet if Aileen and Seto would also end up married in/after the rewritten fic tho.

Who knows.

Not me.

... Ah, yeah, and I also ship her with Ryou Bakura's dead sister Amane :D so there's that as well.

Anyway.

YAY @ drawing of her I'm very very very satisfied with （￣︶￣）✨💖

[minervakarsh]

Silly Game Time: Have you ever seen or heard a ghost (or what some might've considered to be a ghost)? If so, when and where?

[stretches hands]

Let me tell you the story of the WBM.

WBM, of course, stands for Wet Bandit Meower. The name might sound nonsensical, but there’s an explanation.

Location: my dad’s house. Date: summer 2020.

Dad and his then girlfriend weren’t home, so in the whole house there were exactly three living things: me, my now stepsister (I will refer to her as Cherry) and our cat. At the time, we were on the first floor, watching youtube and having a good time. The cat was laying in our lap, purring contentedly.

Then, we heard a meow.

From the third floor.

We looked at the cat. She was still purring. We had no other cats.

The meow repeated. It wasn’t a cat’s meow. It sounded like a human literally saying the word “meow” out loud.

Naturally, we freaked out. It should be noted that I was twelve and Cherry was eight. However, feeling the need to prove ourselves to each other, we decided to investigate.

There was, of course, no one on the third floor.

We exchanged glances, and Cherry suggested inventing a name for the entity. The day before I was watching a cat video, titled “Cool Funny Cat Videos. Wet Bandit Meower”. I recalled it, said it out loud, we loved how stupid it sounded, and (to spite the entity by laughing at it instead of being afraid) we named it thusly.

To relax a bit, we went outside. We played there for a while, then, when we passed under the windows of Cherry’s bedroom, she suddenly gasped in horror and pointed at said windows.

There was a hand.

A black hand in the window, complete with an arm. It lingered for a second, then disappeared.

I asked Cherry what did she see, and she said “a black arm, right in my window!” It definitely wasn’t a hallucination, unless we somehow shared one.

We turned towards each other and said “WBM!” in unison.

And so began the saga. From that moment on, every inexplicable thing that happened around us we blamed on WBM.

And there was a LOT - from mere sounds in the night to finding a note under the fence, on which in red marker was written “I AM 666”. We kept the note (though somehow we managed to lose it since) and only laughed at how WBM couldn’t afford writing in real blood instead of cheap red marker.

Once we found perfume thrown out from the adults’ room, perfume which we never touched but were still blamed for throwing it out a window. We were finding notes, bottles, old letters we never saw before - and we meticulously put all these weird things into a special folder.

We have long lost the folder as of now. Otherwise I’d have loved to show it to you.

Even outside of the house, we experienced strange things. Once, when I was a guest at my aunt’s place in another city, I woke up to see bloody footprints on the bathroom floor. They were human. Neither me nor my aunt nor grandpa had wounded feet. Everyone got scared, including me, but I blamed it on WBM and instantly calmed down: even if it was a supernatural entity, it was OUR supernatural entity.

Nowadays I see almost no activity from WBM. Maybe he (for some reason he was always a he for us) just grew tired of us, especially since we barely see each other anymore, or maybe I’m way too sceptic now…

But I love the fact that for some time (about a year and a half) Cherry and I had our own pet Boogeyman.

Does that qualify as a ghost?)

[niadarcey]

MY UNLUCKY WEEK

When I open my new book for October 2024, I hope the first will be okay and go as planned. But, my expectations were wrong. Conversely, something unexpected happened to me. On October 1, I received too many requests to print out hard copies of MARA documents. Unstoppable messages they sent to ask for my help and fulfill their wishes. I had no choice but to make it for them as many as possible. Initially, I just wanted to focus on my upcoming test for studies and prepare my MARA documents directly for the office.

Unluckily, I was too focused on other documents than mine. I got overworked and stressed out because I needed to help them with those documents during the day. Meanwhile, at night I have to study for the test. I lacked sleep and was stressed out the next day. However, I managed to do the test successfully but of course a bit stressed. On October 3, I got called from the office and they said to take my documents that my dad had sent from Kedah a few days ago. At that moment, I was rushing to go to college for classes until I realized it while going down the stairs.

Suddenly, I skipped almost three steps and tripped from the stairs. My right arm and leg hit the floor at the same time and I lay on the floor. I felt half-conscious at that moment because my head also hit the floor a bit but not as hard as my leg did. Thank goodness, someone helped me get up and collect all my stuff. The funny thing was, that one of my shoes stayed still on the step like Cinderella’s shoe did. I laughed a bit to calm myself down from crying. Moreover, after getting up I felt my right leg very sore and throbbing. But, I pretended like nothing happened so I walked as usual to get on the bus. I knew it was not my day because the bus had already gone to the college before I got into it.

Eventually, I decided to walk by myself alone under the hot sunlight. I could feel my legs crying out in pain but I ignored it and kept walking. Thank God I managed to reach college on my own. The next day October 4, I invited Jan and Nisa to go with me to one of the dessert vendors nearby to release my stress. When we got in front of the vendor before I managed to get into it I tripped again but for now on the tarred road. This time both of my knees and hands hit the road at the same time my phone was in my right hand and the screen broke a bit. Both my hands and knees were hurt and bleeding a little. I tried to hold back tears and pain that made me lose my appetite. I came home with only empty hands and the pain that befell me at that time.

I have been suffering for a week and literally, I can’t do anything properly because of my injured legs. My friends also told me that I had been pushing myself too much until all of these happened quickly. I think maybe this was my first time this semester as a student because I also didn’t have much knowledge before I came here. In conclusion, don’t put yourself into a difficult situation if can’t handle it by yourself at a certain time, and try to manage time wisely, especially as a student.