#she met her husband by the dumpster

[keibea]

her name is fiorella and i lubs her very much goodbye

[functionofjules]

At Last

Pairing: Five Hargreeves X (She/her) Synopsis: (Taking place at the start of Season 2) Y/n finds herself alone in the sixties. Just as she begins to give up hope of ever getting home to her husband, Five, she’s pleasantly surprised. A/N: Reader has healing powers which lead to enhanced abilities like endurance and strength. Aged up Five in my interpretation. Feeling nostalgic after the series finale.

I slam to the ground with a force that could rival an elephant cracking my spine. Luckily enough, I have a tendency to avoid the repercussions from a fall of such heights. I can practically feel my cells regenerating already.

My tattered Umbrella Academy uniform that I borrowed from Allison’s closet upon Five and I’s arrival is reeking of the events of the last week. I’m not particularly fond of it and due to my lack of personal hygiene lately, I think I may be due for an outfit change.

I observe my surroundings. It seems I’m far away from home. By that I mean directly next to a dumpster.

I cautiously make my way into the street and take note of the vintage style of clothing. This indicates I’ve been dropped somewhere between the 50s-60s. This is confirmed when I steal a glance at a newspaper dated March 5th, 1960. At this point I feel myself begin to hyperventilate. Not necessarily because of the date but because I can’t seem to find a single Hargreeves sibling, most importantly my husband, Number Five.

I stagger backward until my back hits a wall that I slide down. Just as the tears begin to pour, a figure casts a shadow over my hunched position. I look up in hopes of a familiar face but am only met with a stranger. She has soft blonde hair framing her face which honestly reminds me of that actress, Florence Pugh, from the only film Five and I had time to see.

In pitying tone accompanied by her southern drawl she asks “You okay, Pumpkin? What’s the matter? You look like you ain’t doing too hot.”

I let a shaky breath escape and contemplate how much information I should give this woman. There’s no way in hell I’m explaining how my husband and I just attempted to stop the end of the world only the end up being separated from him and the rest of his family. So I settle for the next best thing.

“I’m a little lost,” I admit “My family and I got separated and I have nowhere to go.”

“Aw you poor thing!” She exclaims, bending down to my level and taking my hand “You want to come with me? I can getcha something to eat and figure things out from there.”

I nod, standing to my feet.

“That sounds nice. Thank you…” I falter realizing we hadn’t properly introduced ourselves.

She takes both my hands in hers and says “Charlotte, but you can call me Lottie.”

“I’m Y/n,” I say, offering my first smile since getting thrown out of that portal “Y/n Hargeeves.”

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

It’s been three years since I was dropped in Dallas and a lot has changed.

Lottie and I live together I her two bedroom loft apartment and work together everyday at the local diner. It was quite different from my work at the Commission but not to brag, I’ve developed a very impressive coffee pouring time.

I haven’t heard anything from Five. At first I figured he’d come along right after me but he never did. A part of me holds out hope he got dropped somewhere further ahead in the timeline then me or got caught up with someone putting out a hit on him but I’m losing that hope. But I’m okay here with Lottie. I’ve built myself a nice life in Dallas.

I had just expected it to be another normal day at the diner. I tied my apron in a tight knot around my waist, told Lottie to hurry up, and we began to rush down the street together.

I had told Lottie a little about Five. How we were in love and we always protected each other. She knows better than anyone how much I miss him.

We rush into the diner with the ring of the bell behind us and ran to the back to put away our bags. Just as we’re about to head through the door my manager calls, “Y/n! I need you to give one of the chefs a hand with the pantry inventory.”

I shrug “Okay boss!”

A shoot Lottie a wave and run back to help our chef, Dave, count various condiments.

I was still in there after about fifteen minutes when Lottie ran back with a strange look in her eye. She slammed the door with such force I almost slipped off the stool I was balanced on.

“Sorry!” She apologizes, but I can tell she can’t contain herself for long “There’s a guy asking for you.”

I raise a brow “Asking for me? Is it that Harry guy again? Because he gives me the creeps, I’m really not in the mood to-“

She shushes me

“No it’s not Charlie! I really think you ought to get out there. I’ll finish up back here for ya!” She cuts me off, practically shoving me out the door.

“Okay, okay!” I say, chuckling at her intensity “I’ll go! Don’t get your panties in a twist.”

I think nothing of what could be on the other side of that door cause I know it’ll be the same thing everyday. I snatch my notepad out of my apron and the pen from behind my ear.

“Welcome in! What can I do for you today?” I say. I was about to list off the specials until I look up and see Luther Hargreeves sat next to…”Five?”

He blinks behind the counter saying “Hello Darling-“

I don’t let him get to far before a tackle him with kisses. Every inch of his face is smeared in my burgundy lipstick and it takes everything in me to stop there. I let him stand to his feet as tears spring to my eyes.

“I can’t believe you’re here! I can’t believe-“ And then the anger sets in “I can’t believe you!”

His brown furrows as I begin to land strikes to his chest.

“You left me! You abandoned me for three years! I was terrified I was never going to see you again! How could you do something so reckless!” I tell. There’s a large part of me that knows it isn’t actually his fault but I choose to neglect that right now. My hits become harder and it’s only then he gently grasps my wrists and lays his forehead against mine.

Throughout my whole fit, he is shushing me and whispering “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry my love. I didn’t want to. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.”

I finally cease my attacks and begin to breathe easily again. Once I’m calm I turn back towards my brother in law.

“Hi Luther.”

“Oh,” he says with an awkward attempt at a smile “Hello!”

Just then, Lottie reveals herself from behind the kitchen doors and walks over. She scans the scene and smirks at me, saying “Hey pumpkin! Care to introduce your friends?”

I chuckle introducing everyone “Lottie, this is my husband, Five Hargreeves. And this is my brother in law, Luther.”

“Alright!” She replies with a smile “Who wants coffee?”

[jungle-angel]

While He Was Sleeping (Bob Floyd x Reader)

Summary: Bob's parents have been together for close to 30 years, but there's a little secret to how they met

Warnings: Weed smoking, concert shenanigans, Bob's uncles all being complete morons etc.

Notes: For @sorchathered for the RomCom prompts!!! I did kinda deviate a little bit from the story, but my darling, please enjoy (lol).

30 years........30 years to that day Bob's family had been together and you and him could hardly believe it.

The whole Floyd family had convened en masse to the ranch in Montana to celebrate, but at the end of the day it was just you, Bob and his parents, the four of you sitting out by the firepit in the waning evening light, the haze of late spring having set fully over Bozeman and the bright red disk of the sun fully visible in the sky.

"Holy hell what a day," Joe sighed as he pulled Irene close to him.

"Good day, Dad?" Bob asked him.

"Yeah, just exhausting," he said. "Wasn't expecting that many people to show up."

"I'm surprised your brother's brain still works," Irene chuckled as the flames crackled.

"What do you mean?" you asked, laughing a little.

"Bobby never told you?" Joe asked. "Jeez, I thought that story ran rife in the family."

You looked at your husband who in turn grew sheepish. "What happened with your uncle?"

"Um......I.....I don't remember......" Bob said, trying to hide the laugh that was threatening to come out.

"Oh I do," Joe chuckled. "Eyeballs, you remember this one?"

"Oh indeed I do," Irene laughed. "Because that's the story about how we met."

Your eyes went wide, yourself smiling as your jaw hung open.

"Alright, my guess is it's storytime," Joe said, making himself comfortable in the Budweiser camp chair. "Back in the late 70s, me and my brothers decided we were gonna sneak into a Doobie Brothers concert with a few friends of ours."

"Summer of '79 right?" Irene queried.

"Yep," Joe replied. "Us five idiots had piled into the back of our friend's Vista Cruiser and headed off to the stadium to go see'em in Oklahoma City. Concert was great, until Chris decided he was gonna actually smoke a doobie."

You and Bob laughed a little bit. Bob's uncle, Chris, had always been the straight laced one in the family, a very well respected police officer just like Bob's brother, Michael.

"Anywho....." Irene said, giving her husband 'the look'.

"Anywho," Joe continued. "Chris is high out of his mind by the time the concert gets out and walks himself right into a fuckin lamp-post on the way back to the car. He's not moving of course, so we've gotta book it right to the hospital. We get there and the nurses completely freak so they test him and fin out he's concussed."

You and Bob both grimaced at the image.

"So us idiots are waiting," Joe explained. "When lo and behold I see this gorgeous lady coming in because a friend of theirs was so loaded that she ended up eating shit on the pavement."

You and Bob shouldn't have laughed, but you were, the two of you letting out a piggish snort.

"Oh my God," Irene laughed. "Cheryl Anne was more than loaded. She was giving the nurses a hard time and I needed some air."

"So she goes out and I'm thinking that maybe I should talk her up a little bit," Joe chuckled.

"Yeah, Chief Running-Of-The-Mouth is hitting on me while his partner, Afraid-Of-Crotch-Hair is near the dumpster and has just lit his pants on fire," Irene remarked.

"Nobody knew he had a lit roach in his pocket, dear," Joe reminded her.

By this time, you and Bob could barely breathe, let alone stop laughing. "Dad what the hell.....?" Bob squeaked in between laughing fits.

"Do you even remember what we were talking about that night?" Irene asked Joe.

"I think it had something to do with the furniture," Joe theorized. "You were leaning kinda funny on it."

"There was something else too," Irene added.

"What was that?" Joe asked her.

"Chris asked me when it was the two of us fell in love," Irene told him. "I told him it was while you were sleeping."

Joe's forehead came to rest against Irene's, and yours against Bob's. Who would have thought, that his father had found the same romance that the two of you had found all those years ago.

[i-try-to-write-stuff]

Stolen Wife - 6

Synopsis – Tommy Shelby is married to Grace, but he becomes obsessed with Y/N, wife of Reuben Fitch, Tommy’s business partner in the U.S. who is unaware of his actual “business”.

This blog supports Palestine. Zionists are not welcome here.

You could feel judgmental eyes of the bartender, it was not even 11 a.m. at the hotel bar downing tequila, vodka, whiskey, vermouth, and whatever bartender thought would appease you. You were drinking your weight in alcohol to numb the pain that senseless weirdo brought up so casually. The absurd and preposterous claim (totally correct & valid point) that you were running away from your husband’s memories. Thomas Shelby doesn’t know you, and the nerve of his mouth, the audacity of those haunting eyes of that man to tell you what you should do, after you barely met all those months ago, after you barely talked to him today, who does he think he is?

The pretty bartender, Patty, as her badge indicated, kept bringing you some sort of snack to absorb that alcohol, which you were thankful for, she didn’t question much, and you really didn’t have the energy to answer. You were pretty hammered and past the point of even noticing that there was a new bartender serving you what seemed like endless amounts of drinks without you even asking. Had you been a little careful, a little vigilant you would have noticed that the new bartender slipped something in your drink. Had you not been drowning in the insurmountable grief of losing the love of your life, you would have noticed Tommy Shelby and his goons spread out near the bar, keeping an eye on you. Had you not been so damn oblivious you would have noticed the bartender stealing your phone before darkness took over, and you lost consciousness.

Tommy didn’t know kidnapping was going to be added to the long list of crimes he has committed, but love makes you do crazy things, so what’s one more crime to add to that list but getting you to Birmingham, now that was going to take some serious effort, but he knows how to grease a few hands and tell them to look away when it's needed…That’s how he has been able to infiltrate North American black markets.

Flight from Vancouver to Birmingham was smooth, it had to be, the drug was effective for about 12 hours. It gave enough time for the Peaky Blinders to clean out your room, ditch your smartphone in some dumpster in other city before Rueben’s squad could even figure out what had happened.

You woke up in an unfamiliar room, your throat parched, your mind a bit disconnected, and you needed to pee badly, damn, how many drinks did you have…Wait a minute, did you sleep with someone, so many questions swirling around in your brain.

The door opened, and you saw a sweet looking woman carrying a glass of water and a glass of orange juice. She offered them both to you, and you gulped down that water in one big gulp…

“Thank you….Could you point me towards the washroom? I need to freshen up…” you mumbled

She directed you towards the door on the other side of the bed. You got up quickly, a little too quickly and felt a bit dizzy. After practically rushing towards the washroom and doing your business did you start to take the notice of things not feeling right…You did not remember anything except the mimosa you drank. Fuck…what had happened? Where the fuck were you? You needed to get the fuck out of whatever this place was, you needed your phone, you needed to call an uber…

It was then you realized you did not have your phone, your stomach dropped…Fuck fuckity fuck…You searched the bedroom but there was nothing there…You were in process of ripping off the bedsheets when you heard a familiar voice.

“Your phone is not here, Y/N”

You turned around to face the devil with vibrant blue eyes; there was something sinister about them, something that you would learn rather quickly.

[ljh-writing-blog]

Batmom #1

     The first time you encountered the Batman, who you would later know as Bruce Wayne and your husband, is a day you would never forget.  Gotham’s Dark Knight had rescued you from a life of villainy and crime, your personal hero. It was the start of something beautiful you always said, although your relationship was anything but smooth in the beginning.

Past 

    You were a test subject of Jonathon Crane, he wanted to use fear toxin and psychological torture to awaken meta-genes in ordinary humans and you happened to be his most promising subject at the time. You remember volunteering for the program, they had framed it as test-trials for a new drug meant to strengthen immune systems and increase quality of life in exchange for a hefty payment dependent on how long you stayed in the program. After two years living in shitty motels and alleys you jumped on the offer. Anything was better than petty theft, eating from garbage cans, and sleeping in corrupt homeless shelters.

     Living in Gotham wasn’t kind, after your apartment and all your belongings had been destroyed when the Joker decided to go on a bombing spree you had no choice but to turn to the streets at 20 years old. Gotham’s Mayor and city officials had promised their citizens they would be rehomed and cared for, in reality the displaced apartment renters received a check for a hundred dollars worth of groceries and a two day stay at any hotel in the city. You gave your hotel and grocery voucher to your neighbor with two small children and an elderly mother to care for, she needed it more than you by far. Recuperating after that was nearly impossible. Anyone who said homeless people should just get a job was a damn fool, it wasn’t nearly as easy as it seemed when nice clothing and access to a shower was in scarce supply. The city had failed it’s people and it wouldn’t be the first time it failed Y/N. 

     In the beginning there was sixteen of you, an even split between the men and women. Some of them you recognized, like the two girls who worked the corner of your “street” night and day. There was a third usually with them but she had been murdered two weeks ago. The cops suspected an overdose but the streets knew, they talked and whispered in the night. She had been killed by a client, dumped in the alley that Y/N usually stayed in. That night had been awful, she had been the one to inform them of their friend’s death. She assumed her death had been a wake up call for the women, it had been for herself. She needed to get off the streets before she was just a girl in an alley, taken advantage of and left for dead. There was a few homeless men you recognize from nights spent around dumpster fires and sharing the days spoils. The rest were strangers and she found herself wondering what circumstances had brought them all together. 

     All the volunteers met at Gotham City Mall where you were given new clothes and bussed to a second location, halfway through your bus ride you were all instructed to put a blindfold on. A black cut of cloth had been given to each person, many of you were confused. Why couldn’t you see where you were going? You spoke up as several exchanged looks of fear, “Why can’t we see where we’re going? What’s going on?” You voiced the concerns easily felt throughout the bus, weary of the answer you would receive. What had you gotten yourself into? “The facility we’re going to is a top secret government owned building. This is standard precaution for any non personnel visiting the building.” A man towards the front answered, easing many fears. Not yours though, something felt wrong, you felt this man was lying. 

     Still, you led by example and put your blindfold on. When you had arrived and been shuffled into the building, your blindfolds being taken off, you were met with a stark white room. A scientist began speaking to you, explaining the trials you’d be going through and how you were to be separated. There would be one man and woman to a room, though when you were shown your “rooms” they looked much like a prison cell. They explained they wanted to study their, each man and woman’s, reactions to the opposite sex as they did their research. You started to  become suspicious as this was explained to you. Why would they need to study your reaction to other patients? You were supposed to be in trials for drugs related to strengthening the immune system, that should have nothing to do with other patients. In your head it made more sense for them to isolate all of you, what was going on? What was she about to be subjected to do? And worse, this had all been her doing. 

In the end, you were the only test subject to have survived the “trials” and torture. The trials, you had never been able to refer to your time in the facility as anything but torture and abuse. The scientists always else referred to them as trials, as if giving them any other name would make what they were doing even more sadistic and cruel. Subjecting you to different drugs like LSD, cocaine, Haloperidol, methamphetamines, and truth serum to expose your fears and use them against you. Sleep deprivation was one of their favorite forms of torture, it not only produced natural hallucinations but with the added fear toxin your hallucinations increased tenfold. After developing a dependency to certain drugs they forced you to consume they began to use withdrawal as a form of torture. 

     Your stay in the facility lasted three years, one year after your torture began your metagene that had previously lay dormant was activated. The scientists hypothesized that because of your mania and emotional displacement along with the fear toxin your metagene was influenced in a way that allowed you to manipulate the mind and the emotion fear. You felt all emotions but fear was much prominent, fear was the easiest to manipulate. Once your abilities manifested they began the brain washing. They knew you would never willingly submit to their commands with how much they had awakened your abilities so they began the brain washing. It was another year of  pharmacological torture before they were successful, you willingly began to do missions for Crane and his friends. You believed he had saved you from the streets and given you extraordinary powers, he had saved your life. Your third year stuck with Crane you commited crimes in the name of several villains, Jonathon gave you the alias the Scarlet Witch. Your powers manifested physically as a red energy, it behaved like a fog in a way: clouding the minds of your victims, manipulating their actions, and bringing their worst fears to the surface. 

     At 23 years old you were just a missing person’s report, a face lost to crime and a failing, corrupt police force. That was until Batman caught you, you were usually gone by the time he arrived to stop you. But this time you had faltered, you swore you recognized the faces you had been forced to mar with a bullet to the forehead. They had tried to speak to you before you killed them, to beg for their lives. But this was your mission, they were your mission. That had been the last mission you ever did for Jonathon Crane, the Batman took you into his custody that night. He delivered you to the Justice League. There you stayed while the League tried to find any information on how you had become this but all they had was a missing person’s report. 

     There they monitored your health and watched you go through withdrawal. It took Bruce three months to find the files that told the demise of Y/F/N Y/L/N. In that time you were diagnosed with a heart arrhythmia from the extended drug use you were subjected to. You gained weight, not so sickly looking anymore. You bonded with Diana, she was one of the few people who didn’t hide their faces from your. Somehow it made you feel more human, while you didn’t trust these people she trusted you enough to see the real her. You hadn’t been around someone so genuine in a long time. It took a year of physical and mental therapy for you to begin unlearning what had been brainwashed into you. In that time you grew closer to Batman. Somehow it seemed he understood what it was like to be unmade and made into something darker. That was the rough start to the beginning of your relationship. 

Present

You never expected to live the life you live now, a life in a mansion with too many kids to count and a husband who loves you unconditionally. A life with friends who she could rely on, some superpowered and some not. A butler who may as well be her father, oh how her young self would scoff at the idea of her life now. Bruce Wayne had given you so much and you only hoped one day you would repay the debt you owed him.

A/N: This is probably absolute shit but this is my idea for Batmom.Rn I’m just setting up backstory. I’ve always loved the idea of Scarlet Witch in the DCU because there’s so much backstory you could put in there. She (you) are still from Sokovia, her immigrant background is going to help tie in with Dick/Damian identity struggles. I also really wanted to do something with fear toxin because I feel Scarecrow is such an underrated villain. So here we have it, enjoy or don’t. I’d really appreciate feedback whether that’s likes/comments/reblogs. Thank you <3 

[talesfrommedinastation]

My redneck neighbor Doug's interpretations on various 'Bad Batch' characters: Side Character Edition!

I'm chuffed that everyone thinks my neighbor Doug is funny: he really is a gem. I had no idea we'd bond over Star Wars and crappy weather, but here we are.

Naturally, I had to bother him about other characters that showed up on The Bad Batch, so, here we go!

Phee Genoa: Ah-ha, that there’s Church Lady. You know her, she’s got a big square in her pocketbook and you don’t know if it’s pound cake or a brick, because the Lord saves but He can’t help you in the alley when you’re in Treme and the streetlights just turned on. She has two ex-husbands who are both preachers and they turned to Jesus because they are so scared of Church Lady in court. 

(So I guess he’s saying Phee has raw WHO DAT energy, for my Saints fans out there)

Cid: Looking at this fat lizard bitch makes me hungry. I call that one Houma-BBQ because I’m guessing we could feed a whole parish fire station based on the size of her tail. I wish she’d shut up, she reminds me of my mother-in-law. 

Cad Bane: Homeboy looks like a Sesame Street character who teaches Big Bird about concealed carry laws. I call him Gun Safety Muppet. I don’t like him because he shot my Wife and I’s Boyfriend on the other show and his robot needs to be tossed into a wood chipper. 

(“I’m not gay, but Jenny and I…well, we would make an exception to that man. You ever see ‘Deadwood’? Man is fine. I’m not GAY.”)

Fennec Shand: That’s The Chick that’s in Everything. She was on ER and Boba Fett and I think a Marvel show too? I like her. Hope she kills Gun Safety Muppet and hurls his blue ass into a dumpster. 

Howzer: That’s my niece’s boyfriend, Jorge. We all love Jorge, nice guy, owns an auto repair shop and always remembers plates and napkins for the cookouts after church.

Gregor: Jorge’s cousin, Manny. Met him once at Christmas in Miami, nice guy, only drinks brown liquor and insists everyone arm wrestle him. But he’s got a good job as a PE teacher, we respect education, come on now. 

The Martez Sisters: Aw, man, it’s Jorge’s Unemployed Sisters. I hate it when they show up for Christmas and get into fights with my momma. 

(“Doug, you know they’re not related to the clones at all, right?” “Says who?” “The PLOT?” “Eh, they’ll change it, just watch.”)

Mayday: Aw, I liked this guy so much! That’s Sassy Park Ranger, he’s the type that gives you your camping permits, warns you about the bears, and then is all disappointed when you don’t properly stow your food and the bears destroy the campsite. I need to go back to Little River Canyon, that place was pretty. 

Lt. Nolan: THAT STUPID BLOND JACKASS. (Doug was so enraged by the guy he had nothing else to add. Damn.)

Senator Chuchi: Why does this lady make me want a blue slushie? I’ll call her the Sonic Special. They need more Sonics here in the north, they really do. 

Cody: That’s Obi-Wan’s Boyfriend, he’s sad all the time. We know why. (Confirmed that Doug is a Codywan shipper and I don’t know what to do about that)

Royce Hemlock: Is that Jimmy Neutron after he grew up and became one of those guys that’s on the internet all the time writing creepy things? It’s Jimmy-the-Scientist. He looks like the type of person dogs get weird around.

Rex: That's Rex. He's a king. Respect him.

[piratefishmama]

Beware The Thorns | Part 9

Robin Buckley made it her job to know things about people in Steve Harrington’s life. That was something she’d always done. Ever since they’d been bound to chairs back to back in a basement, ever since Steve had goaded, pushed, and insulted their captors, spitting vitriol, forcing them to focus entirely on him leaving her with barely a scratch, a sore jaw from where one of them had slapped her across the face but that was it.

Steve had been hospitalised for over a week with his injuries.

And in that time, the senior Harringtons had laid waste to the entirety of the group that’d held them captive, and had forged an odd little friendship with Buckley&Buckley, a P.I husband and wife duo who were endlessly grateful for Steve’s sacrifice to ensure their daughters survival.

A friendship that continued for years after the senior Harringtons passed their empire onto their son in their passing.

She wasn’t even supposed to be there, she’d taken it upon herself to investigate something to prove that she could. To prove that she was ready to join her parents in their work. Wrong place, wrong time. But it gained her Steve, he was worth the nightmares.

Which was why she spent her Monday morning going to a coffee shop she didn’t actually enjoy on the east side of the city, drinking overpriced black ‘artisanal’ sludge, which usually she’d be an advocate for, fuck Starcucks an all that jazz, but this place?

Dumpster fire masquerading as a ‘hip new coffee joint’, ran by a douchebag in a beanie with a moustache that didn’t fit his somewhat misshapen potato sack face shape.

All to meet with one very pretty young lady, who seemed to actually enjoy the coffee the shop served.

“I need to know where he’s going to be.” A very pretty lady, who held her coffee cup to pursed, painted red lips, bright blue eyes on Robin’s face. “And I need to know if he’s already locked down a new client, I’m assuming these are things you’ll know… as his friend.”

“Mmnnn, I mean. You’re not wrong.” She took a sip then placed her cup back down on the cork coaster provided. “I do know where he’s going to be, and I do unfortunately know his hook up schedule, but what makes you think I’m going to tell you any of it? As his friend, it’s kind of my job to keep that information on lockdown, isn’t it?”

Robin liked Chrissy. She’d always liked Chrissy, same as Robin always liked Eddie, they had similar vibes. Wearing a mask of thorns to protect the pretty petals from those who’d do them harm. She didn’t know how they knew each other, didn’t know enough about Eddie to make assumptions as to where they’d met, but Chrissy was the closest thing Eddie had to a best friend, as far as Robin knew.

Chrissy was the only friend that Robin could get to without it immediately getting back to Eddie. Eddie’s little game friends, Gareth, Jeff, and Dougie? They’d tell him the second she reached out, would sound an alarm and she’d never get anywhere near him, claiming they were ‘being good friends’, but Chrissy was smarter by far. Chrissy was just enough of a best friend, to know when Eddie happened to need something that he didn’t want to admit to needing.

Just enough of a best friend to be able to tell him he was being an idiot, and not just immediately side with him.

Like Eddie’s very own Robin.

“It is, but I’m hoping that I’m right in the fact that he’s probably been miserable since he ended things with Steve, right?” It all kind of hinged on that. On Eddie’s real feelings behind his little mask. “Steve’s pretty miserable… it’s depressing”

“So miserable he’s sent you out to track Eddie down? Or are you doing this sniffer dog bit on your own initiative?” Robin opened her mouth to reply, but Chrissy continued as if she hadn’t asked a question, asking another instead, “what makes you think he’d be miserable?”

“Which question am I answering here?”

“Mmmmm second one please.” Chrissy took another sip, so nonchalant. She had an energy about her that Robin felt strangely familiar. A countenance Robin had only ever seen in one other person.

“I know he was acting, I know there are sides to Eddie that Steve never saw, that Eddie never let Steve see—”

“Like all the sides of Steve that Eddie never saw?” Robin tensed, brow furrowing “oh unclench, Robbie, the Cunninghams and the Harringtons go back generations, pretty sure Steve and I would have wound up in some stupid arranged marriage had the Harringtons not been against it.” Robin didn’t like not knowing things, why did she not know that? How had she missed Chrissy of all the potentials to have told Eddie about Steve’s life? How did she not know that Steve ought to know Chrissy? “I never said anything to Eddie and I don’t intend to, but… why should I let Eddie be dragged into such a messy life? There’s so many fish in the sea, Robin, why should I let my best friend be dragged down by a shark?” At least now Robin knew why Chrissy’s personality, her eerie calm felt so familiar.

She was Steve in prettier packaging.

“I’m at a disadvantage here, aren’t I?”

“Oh very much so, but you’re very cute so I’m letting you off.” Robin blinked once in surprise, then did her best to quell the pleasant buzz that thrummed through her veins at the not-so-subtle compliment “Please answer my question, why should I give you what you want?”

“He… Steve… He loves him, Chrissy… Steve has done bad stuff, don’t get me wrong, he’s done awful things to people, but I’ve never seen him like he is whenever Eddie’s around. It’s like he’s drowning in the dark and Eddie’s just… a light at the end of the tunnel, an if Eddie loves him too, which I think he does… why should they be apart?”

“And now the real reason, not the Hallmark movie one?” Chrissy raised a brow in boredom.

“I… I don’t know, Chrissy. I don’t know. I don’t. I’m running on best friend fuel. Steve needs him, or at least needs closure from him, and as his best friend I’m duty bound to try and get that for him. I’m sure you don’t love Eddie’s job. Right? He wouldn’t have to do any of it if he just—”

“Gave up his freedom and all the work he’s put in to establish himself in his field for a slim chance at happiness with one of the most dangerous men in the city?” Chrissy leaned back in her chair, one leg crossing over the other as she crossed her arms over her chest, coffee cup left to rest on the coaster.

“Better the devil you know though, right? Wouldn’t you rather him be with someone you know won’t hurt him… than with someone you don’t?” Chrissy’s eyes finally left Robin’s face, dipping down to the right as she thought about it.

Eddie wouldn’t be alone for long, he’d find a new client, he’d be on someone else’s arm, and he’d continue his life unchanged with a risk of being hurt.

Or… or he could have what he wanted.

Chrissy knew what Eddie wanted. They’d spent more than enough evenings on his couch with ice cream mooning over Steve Harrington and while she’d have loved to tell him that he was trash, he was a monster in sheep’s clothing… he just wasn’t. So she’d kept quiet.

She let Eddie pine away for a life he could have if he took a chance, never telling him why he shouldn’t.

“What if this new client wouldn’t hurt him?”

“Let’s be real Chrissy he’s probably already planned on reaching out to Tommy to fill in the gap in his schedule, you and I both know what kind of trash heap Tommy Hagan is.” An easy cash grab that’d probably make Eddie feel like shit. “Do you want to risk Eddie’s happiness on a what if, or do you want to tell me where he’s going to be so Steve can be there and sweep him off his feet?”

In retrospect, Robin should have probably been suspicious when Chrissy sat up straight, when she looked at Robin as if she was assessing her, and she definitely should have been suspicious when, with a short “Alright then,” Chrissy plucked a pen from her bag and a little notepad, and jotted down an address and a time. But with a small victory in her hands, and a front row seat to Chrissy’s perfectly perky… ponytail retreating for the door with their business concluded.

She really wasn’t thinking all that hard.

[13keithxpidge13]

First I ADORE YOUR WRITING!! Your punkflower family AU is soo cute! Could you do a snippet of how it went when Miles found out he was pregnant and Hobie's reaction? Any funny scenarios you had in mind on Hobie caring for Miles during his pregnancy? You are amazing have a nice day 😊❤❤

AAAA MY FIRST PUNKFLOWER FAMILY AU ASK LET'S GOOOOO

(just a little side note, Miles and Noir have a scene together and there is a mention of, y'know, N@zi's, it's just the single word but I don't want to trigger anyone, haha. Enjoy!)

Having his senses buzz every second was unusual. Normally, when his senses buzzed it meant that a villain would be coming to punch his lights out in the next millisecond but, there was no villain to be found when his spider-instincts triggered.

He had talked to his husband about it and Hobie was just as confused. In their puzzlement, Hobie suggested perhaps going to see some of the other Spider's to get some advice? He hated asking for help but, it was important that they find out what was going on with him, Hobie told him.

So, Miles did just that and first, went to talk to Peter B.

"That's...odd, yeah, kid, I'm not sure," Peter B told him sadly as he settled Mayday into her crib for her afternoon nap. It had taken forever to get her down for the afternoon. "Maybe ask Noir? Maybe he knows."

And so, Miles did, and received more or less the same answer.

"Sorry, Miles," Noir apologized as he punched a thug straight in the jaw. "I don't really have any idea. But, perhaps Peni knows. She's smart. She knew what color was on my Rubik's cube before I could figure it out the other day."

Miles laughed at him and reassured him it was alright, waving goodbye but, before the portal could close, he watched as Noir grabbed the thug by the collar before chucking him in a dumpster. Served the bastard right. Fucking N@zi's.

Miles feels even more frustrated though when even Peni doesn't have an answer for him.

"That's never happened to well, any of us before, I don't think," She said while fixing up her robot friend. "I'm so sorry I can't be of more help. But, maybe you should ask Jess? Or Miguel? They've been in the game longer than us."

Miles shudders just thinking of asking Miguel.

Guess Jess is the next best option.

"Your senses are going off all the time?" Jess looked up at him, eyes blinking behind her goggles as she sat next to her bike, a wrench in hand. "Like, all the time."

Miles nodded, sighing as he already sensed he'd come up empty here too. "Yeah...it's nonstop, like, just before I walked in here they started chirping again."

Jess blinked at him for a moment before muttering something underneath her breath and Miles tilted his head.

"...do you know something?" He asked. "Anything?"

"Not sure," Jess licked her lips. "Just...go see a doctor. Okay?"

"What?" Miles straightened. "A doctor? But-I can't tell them-"

"Yeah, I know," She told him, nodding. "Go see one of our doctors, tell them what's going on. They'll know what's up."

Oh.

Miles blinked at her largely. "That...I don't know why I didn't think of that."

Jess laughed and he ran from her in a hurry, face darkening with every single bout of laughter that escaped her lips.

He met up with the doctors only a few hours later, settling in the office easily before being led into one of the many rooms inside. Turns out, there are a lot of doctor Spider-man variants lying around and they all help Miguel out by doing their jobs in HQ.

"Sooo," Dr. Spider began, holding onto a clipboard and Miles has to hold in his laughter at the sight of a Spider-man dressed in a lab coat with only his mask on his face. "Your senses are going off twenty-four seven?"

Miles swallowed and nodded. "Yeah, basically."

"Hm," Dr. Spider stood up. "That means that there's something going on inside of you. Unless, of course, you have a stalker."

Miles deadpanned.

"Welp, an ultrasound it is, then," He told him and Miles blinks rapidly.

"Wait, an ultrasound?"

"Yep," Dr. Spider said. "It's likely you're pregnant, due to being an omega but, this is also just procedure. So, just hang tight for a minute, kay? I'll be back in a moment."

Miles can't get another word in before he's leaving, shutting the door behind him and Miles is left shocked beyond compare.

Pregnant.

He could be pregnant.

Oh god.

+

He comes home late that night, shutting their apartment floor door as quietly as possible.

His footsteps can't even be heard, perks of having the abilities that he does. He walks into their kitchen, making sure to be as quiet as possible so he can grab a drink of water and a pack of fruit snacks to calm his nerves.

Then, he's stalking into their living room, walking past the couches to hopefully get in their shared bedroom without waking Hobie and-

The light switches on and Miles freezes.

Hobie's sitting on one of the couches, an eyebrow raised.

They stare at each other and Miles swallows.

"Hey," He croaks.

"Hi, love," Hobie greets and tilts his head. "Ya've been gone all day. Weren't answerin' my texts and calls."

Miles licks his lips. "Was busy."

Hobie stands from the chair and walks over to him and immediately, Miles is turning away to hide his sniffles and he wipes at his watery eyes. Of course, this doesn't go unnoticed by his mate and Hobie gently grabs ahold of his wrist, his hand dwarfing his arm by a mile like it had always done.

"Love," Hobie whispers. "What's happened? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I just-" Miles twitches. "It's just been a long day...I'm fine."

"Yer cryin'," Hobie argues. "Yer not fine. Jess told me ya' went ta' the doctors in HQ, what'd they say?"

Miles curses Jess and his teeth grind.

"I-"

"Are ya' hurt?"

"No."

"Are ya' sick?"

"No."

"Then, Jesus God, Miles what the hell-?"

Miles shakily reaches into the pocket of his hoodie and pulls out the crumpled picture in his hands. Hobie pauses and watches as he holds it up in the light to him.

His brows furrow.

"What-?"

"I got an ultrasound," Miles tells him and Hobie gently grabs onto the photo.

He stares.

Miles sniffles and wipes a hand down his face.

"I'm so sorry, Hobie. I-I don't know how it happened," He cries, unable to stop his tears. "I didn't-I was so stupid. I didn't even realize that I forgot to take my pill during my last heat. I'm so, so, sorry. Please, please don't leave me, I-"

"Leave you?" Hobie breathes and glances down at him, their eyes meeting and Miles' breath hitches as he sees tears glistening in Hobie's mismatched orbs. "Miles, baby, leave ya'? This is-I would never, especially not...yer pregnant?"

Miles sobs and nods pitifully. "I'm sorry."

Hobie exhales loudly and looks back to stare at the photo where an obvious outline of a babe is printed onto.

He glances back down at Miles' stomach. He's hardly showing but-

Hobie gently caresses him tummy and Miles twitches, whirling up to look at him with wide, teary, caramel eyes.

"...Hobie?" He breathes.

"Yer pregnant," Hobie whispers, astonished. "Ya'...ya' want to keep the babe?"

"I-" Miles hesitates. "...yeah. I do."

Hobie licks his lips and nods. "Aight, then," He says. "Then, I guess we're havin' a baby, love."

Miles breaks down and sobs.

"Re-really?" He cries, reaching for him and grabbing onto him so tightly, like Hobie is his only lifeline, like he'll fall apart without him. "Really? We are? You'll stay?"

"Gods, Miles," Hobie laughs breathily. "Of course I'll stay. We didn't plan this but I always figured it'd be in the cards fo' us one day. Kinda scary that we didn't plan any of this, yeah but, we'll make it work, babe. Spider-man always makes it work."

Miles laughs wetly and immediately hugs him tight and Hobie returns the gesture, kissing his head and rocking them back and forth as Miles cries and cries into his chest.

"Oh, my darlin'," Hobie coos, rubbing up and down his back. "I love ya'."

Miles sniffles and nods. "Love-love you too, Hobie," He sobs. "I love you so much. Thank you. Thank you. I'm so excited, I'm-we're gonna have a baby-"

"With yer eyes," Hobie grins.

"With your smile," Miles laughs right back.

Hobie kisses his temple and Miles stands on tip toes to catch his lips in his own.

Days later, the printed ultrasound photo can be seen hanging from their fridge and they begin counting down the days until they can meet their baby boy.

Eight months later, Aaron Morales is welcomed into the world.

[sirianasims]

Chapter 1

Humble Beginnings and Weirdly Colour-Coordinated Aliens

This is Alexandra Duchelli, or Alex. Welcome to this legacy challenge simlit story, where we try to experience as much as possible. Right, Alex?

“Awesome, legacies are so much fun! Big houses, amazing clothes, great adventures! I can’t wait!”

Uhm, Alex? You’re a founder. You don’t have any money, remember?

“Oh. Crap.”

Yup. So you better start earning some money so you can get a roof over your head as soon as possible.

“I don’t even have a toilet!”

There’s a bush.

“… Right, better get going.”

After Alex grumbles through the first chords, we try the city to see if we can get some tips.

Poor Alex isn’t having much luck, and mostly receives smug looks from stuck-up townies.

Giving up on the tips for now, Alex goes to the karaoke club to brush up on her singing skills as well. You can’t be a singer-songwriter if you can’t sing.

This is also a great time for you to socialise, Alex! You should try meeting some new people.

“Some of these townies are a bit too friendly!”

Oh shush, stop complaining.

“Seriously, can I go home? Everyone in this city is weird!”

Oh come on, you’re just overreacting because you’re embarrassed that someone saw your attempt at swiping a drink. Maybe stay on the right side of the bar next time?

“No, I’m serious. There’s a man and a small girl outside just… staring… at a brick pillar.”

… Fine, you can go home.

“I’m not sure this is better.”

Shush, we need to get enough money that you’re allowed to get a job. And the tips are too slow.

“Isn’t it a bit counter-intuitive that I need to earn money before I can get a job?”

I don’t make the rules, Alex. Besides, I’m busy worrying about the aliens.

“The aliens?”

Yes. Apparently, the aliens are flocking to Oasis Springs, and somehow they mostly manage to be beautifully colour-coordinated. It’s honestly a bit unsettling.

Anyways, we need to find you a husband, This is a legacy, after all. How about this handsome fellow?

“Uhm… he seems a bit bookish. What about that hot guy over there?”

Oh honey. That’s Don Lothario. He’s bad news, you won’t get anywhere with him in a legacy, he’s non-committal. He’d be great as one of those enemies you’re supposed to get, though?

Alex catches up with the neighbours and even scores a dinner invitation to the Caliente house.

Nina: “Oh yeah, Don lives here too. Mom moved him in, she claimed she thought he would be a great fit for me or Dina, but I think she really wants him for herself. Anyways, no one is getting anywhere with him, he’s completely useless.”

“Alright, I’ll give up on Don. I guess I’ll find someone a bit less…occupied.”

Alex, who are you talking to? You should be in bed, or, I mean, tent, those skill points take energy.

“Oh, I just met these guys. This is Johnny and Malcolm. Apparently they’re brothers but there’s a lot of drama going on in the family.”

“Eww, can I have something else to eat soon?”

I mean, sure, you can buy all the food you want, but then it’ll just take longer for you to get a job, and thus to get a husband and a roof over your head?

“Dammit!”

As we head to the museum, I wonder. Is throwing up on a canvas art?

We also need those handiness skills, so Alex starts some woodworking.

Meanwhile, I am distracted by the amazing choice of shoes here.

Alex, wasn’t there a vase there, just a second ago?

“I have no idea what you’re talking about”

And so it continues on, with dumpster meals…

… voice training…

… more dumpster meals…

… and more impeccably clad aliens.

next

[wangxianficrecs]

❤️ Across the street to another life by danegen

❤️ Across the street to another life

by danegen

M, 99k, Wangxian

Summary: Wangji stays on the piano bench as they’re closing up. Wei Ying chews his lip, knowing what he’s going to do but horrified at himself. But what’s the alternative: kick the guy out and find him sleeping beside the dumpster in the morning? And that’s if the cops don’t take him in for vagrancy. “Wangji?” Wangji looks up. Please don’t be a serial killer. “So, we’re closing up for the night, but A-Yuan and I live upstairs. Do you want to join us for dinner?” Wangji blinks. His head bobs in what’s probably a yes. “Great!” Fuck. Or a ragged monosyllabic man wearing a collar shows up at Wei Ying's music store. Wei Ying and A-Yuan ask, is anyone going to adopt this guy? And then they don't wait for an answer.

Kay's comments: This story really had me hooked and I could hardly wait for each new chapter. It's a modern AU set in America based on the movie Unleashed. I didn't know the movie and thankfully, that didn't matter, because no knowledge is needed! Wen Ruohan is a crime boss here and Lan Wangji is his top-fighter that he keeps in a cage and collared and uses to commit violence on his enemies and to win illegal fights (he gave me Winter Soldier vibes!). One day, Lan Wangji manages to escape and he gets taken in by Wei Wuxian and his son A-Yua. Cue lots of hurt/comfort, some drama, family feels, tragic pasts, Wangxian getting together and having to deal with Wen Ruohan. Lots of angst and a well-deserved happy ending. Despite the author warning that Lan Wangji is way out of character here, it didn't really feel that way for me. Like, it totally made sense given his circumstances. I really loved the character dynamics in this story. The Jiang parents are divorced for example and now Yu Ziyuan is trying to be a less shitty parent and mostly doing it by bribing her grandchildren with gifts and one of my favourite parts, though he doesn't play that much of a role, is what the author made of Wen Zhuliu, because I'm really weak for him! I also really loved the slow thawing of Lan Wangji and him growing into his new life and finding a place for himself. Mojo's comments: Fucking spectacular, and I'm in a car and not able to make a good bookmark, but DAMN, y'all. Lwj has been kept in a cage and made to fight all his life, and finally slips his chain and sinks into domestic bliss with wwx and a-yuan: learns to read and use a fork and it's beautiful. But of course, his past doesn't want to let him go.

Excerpt: “Was that woman your mother?” Wei Ying’s smile falls. His mouth opens in a pretty O. “Oh, you mean Yu Ziyuan? The one who picked A-Yuan up?” Wangji nods. “No. Well, not really. My mother died when I was about A-Yuan’s age. My father, too. Yu Ziyuan and her husband—well, ex-husband now—raised me after that. More or less.” Wangji nods like he understands and stares down at the counter. He doesn’t know what to call a woman who is sort of a mother but not really. “Where are your parents?” Wei Ying asks. His voice is soft, like he isn’t sure he wants Wangji to hear. “Dead.” He doesn’t remember his parents, but when Wangji was younger, Wen Ruohan told him that he had taken Wangji in after they died. “Oh. I’m sorry.” Wangji doesn’t understand why Wei Ying would apologize. He’s afraid to ask why. “A-Yuan’s mother died, too,” Wei Ying says. When Wangji peeks up at him, Wei Ying has gone back to staring at the computer screen. He isn’t smiling. “She died when he was a baby.” It hadn’t occurred to Wangji that Wei Yuan must have a mother. He knows about mothers, but he’s never actually met one. He doesn’t know what to say, so he says what Wei Ying said: “I’m sorry.”

modern setting, modern no powers, pov alternating, family feels, set in america, based on unleashed (2005), past wei wuxian/others, wei wuxian is lan sizhui's parent, wei yuan, single parent wei wuxian, addition, implied/referenced drug addition, amnesia, ableist language, musicians, angst with a happy ending, found family, @danegen

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

[oc-tournaments]

ROUND ONE - MATCH 8

PATIENT 107 vs LETTI GALLET

PATIENT 107: @lokis-wager

LETTI GALLET: @lelielsshadow

VOTE BASED ON THE INFORMATION BELOW CUT!!

Propaganda Content Warnings: Substance abuse/drug addiction for PATIENT 107. Emotional manipulation, arson, familial death for LETTI.

PATIENT 107:

PROPAGANDA: Patient 107 has a name but no one cares about her enough as an individual to remember it. Her entire story is told in first-person from her POV so she doesn't get a name, because she's just another soldier in a sci-fi war. She has a Sapphic crush on her mecha, because she sucks at being around people and forming attatchment after her entire immediate family died. She takes so many drugs that she hears an omnipotent machine god talking to her, and believes It anointed her as Its prophet. The weight of talking to a god inside her head slowly drove her insane, and she becomes addicted to the drugs she needed to pilot her mech, making her no longer fit to be the prophet. Her mecha 'dies' in a dogfight, so 107 is left with no one and nothing to love.

THEME SONG:

LETTI GALLET:

PROPAGANDA: as a prefact to this i made her as a joke based on a Minecraft chicken family i set on fire. and then she became,, no longer a joke!

She grew up as a noble as 'Charlotte Buckington', then got into a God Awful relationship with some owl guy named Evander Strix. her ex is, may I repeat, named EVANDER STRIX. so she got manipulated to hell and back by him and he convinced her to run away with him. what she did not know was that to distract her family from her running away, he was going to set their house on fire.

letti was forced to accidentally fake her own death while the rest of her family actually did die in said fire, then (understandably) proceeded to dump evander and run off on her own. she changed her name and turned to dumpster diving, basically living on the streets for a bit, whilst being stalked by her ex. she met her current husband (a duck guy named tobias!!), got married, and had a happy relationship for a few years!! and then one day there was a fire at the store tobias worked at, and she froze up instead of helping because she'd never really confronted her fear of fire like this before - and tobias didn't survive! so now she's haunted by the thought that maybe she could've saved him if she hadn't been 'such a coward', and she also doesn't know whether it was evander that caused the fire that killed tobias or if it really was a freak accident.

tl;dr - little chicken girl grew up to watch everyone in her life get cooked because she got w the wrong person when she was like 15, considers herself a danger to society because she thinks it's all her fault

THEME SONG:

[shinekocreator]

Based on this post

a/n: tw mention of discussion of ab*rtion, hurt and comfort

🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️

Leaving was hard, but you knew staying would be much harder.

You loved your work, and all the spider people you got to hang out with, but you had to get away from Miguel, so without anyone noticing, you replaced your watch with a day pass, and used the "go home" machine to return to your universe, knowing Miguel was too preoccupied to find out.

You had to disappear, you knew that much, so you got a new place and left no contact info.

The next part was harder, you had to quit being Spider Woman altogether. You got rid of the costume in a random dumpster, you changed your name, you made sure all information regarding the name change was gone.

After all was done, you sat on your bed and wept.

You had a conversation with yourself about whether or not you should get an abortion, but decided against it. You thought you'd have to deal with the pregnancy alone, luckily for you, you had much help from your neighbours, and couldn't be happier about the place you moved to.

Four years passed. your daughter was already three years old when you finally met him, Michael John Watson, and boy, was he everything you could want in a man, sweet, kind, funny, intelligent, emotionally stable and very accepting of your daughter.

Three more years and you were happily married, Michael absolutely adored your daughter, Isabella, who was now already six years old, and she absolutely loved him as well.

Two years passed, and you couldn't be happier, when he finally found you.

It was a calm day, in the middle of spring when you heard a knock on the door. You hated being interrupted during movie time with your family, but you cared for your neighbours, and if one of them needed help, you would be more than happy to.

When you saw Miguel at the door, you hurried to close it, but he was quick enough to stop you.

Michael and Isabella had no idea what was going on at the door, but when Isabella heard you bark "NO!" she knew she had to investigate. So she came to the door to see who you were talking to.

As soon as she saw Miguel she asked "Mommy, who is that?"

Miguel nearly choked when he saw Isabella, she was clearly his daughter and he wanted to get explanation. Knowing this, you dragged Miguel away from your house.

"Explain" was all Miguel said to you.

You laughed bitterly, "There's nothing to explain here".

"The child is clearly mine, I demand an explanation"

"You might be her sperm donor, but you're not her father, I don't want you near her EVER!"

Miguel looked furious "I DEMAND TO MEET OUR CHILD!"

You looked at him with a hardened expression "Not your daughter, and I would like to keep her away from harm"

Miguel looked hurt at that "Please, babe, I miss you, I want to be with you, and our daughter. I promise to cause her no harm." He pleaded, but you were deaf to his pleas.

"You're a heartless man Miguel O'Hara, and I refuse to be with a heartless man. I'm finally happy and I very much love my husband. I don't need you back. Now leave!"

All arguments died on Miguel's lips at the mention of a husband and he just left.

You breathed out in relief and returned to your house, finally at ease now that you got closure over that part of your life.

🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️

Miguel returned to his universe, and headed straight to his office, for three weeks he stayed alone, replaying moments of you two together on his screen and crying, he stayed isolated and pushed out everyone.

This was it for him, no more chances for a happy ending.

🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️

Thank you to anyone who reads this,I hope you enjoyed it. and especially thank you to @sillyblues for the amazing base I had to work with.

[strangermask]

People of the rottmnt fandom

As a person who is a “Casey Jr is a dumpster baby” believer, I present to you: Casey Jr’s bio family! (In the good timeline)

Starting off with the parents: Anastasia Quill and Neville Quill.

I hc Casey Jr as biracial as you can see in the above photo. His mother, Anastasia, was a former foot clan member. She parted ways with the clan after she met her future husband, Neville. Their meet was before the kraang summoning (I feel it important to clarify that), but she does keep contact with one of the old foot recruits. Neville, on the other hand, is just a normal guy with an average life. He wants to live life as a science teacher and spend it with his wife and kids.

Speaking of kids, introducing them now! And, surprise surprise, Casey Jr isn’t an only child

The first and eldest child is Genesis. And with his name meaning “origin”, it fits the eldest well. He was born on April 25th, 2025. Ever since he was young, he’s been a calm and collected kind of guy. Very nice, very polite, and he just radiates that big brother energy (at least according to his younger siblings). The only time he breaks into panic is when his siblings either get into trouble or almost end up hurt. They give him a heart attack at least thrice a week.

The second child is Angel, the oldest twin. She was born on December 16th, 2028. Out of everyone in the family, she is the most energized and extroverted. Her name means “messenger” and that definitely fits her. If someone needs to send a message, she is on it. Party invitations? Done. School is going to do a fundraiser? Already making the posters. And being pretty well known and fun to talk to, she is basically the town doll.

The third child is Xander, the youngest twin. He, along with Angel, was born December 16th, 2028. He is quite the opposite of his sister. He is more shy and reserved, not really putting himself out there. He has a bit more trouble socializing then his family, but he tries his best. They’re probably the only people he sticks close to. That, however, doesn’t mean he isn’t an absolute menace to his siblings. Although… there’s something familiar about that kid.

And finally, the youngest child Thanos. His name means “immortal”, and it’s the shorten name of the Greek God of death: Thanatos. He wishes that was his name though considering how many times he’s teased about sharing a name with a giant fricking purple villain. Anyways, he was born on February 7th, 2036. He brought quite the surprise with his red hair. Turned out both sides of the family had the genetic hidden. As the youngest, he gets inspired by his older siblings and tries to mimic them. This has led him to be the spunky and charming child that he is. He still can be a little gremlin when he wants to be.

This sweet little family live a peaceful life in Oregon. Anastasia and Neville moved there for both job opportunities and take a small break from the New York life. Maybe one day they’ll go back to the city.

Down below is a lil extra bonus. For now, I thinks about it

Ooooooooooh, that’s why Xander seemed familiar… he is Casey Jr. Unfortunately, he didn’t know that. He thinks it was just a weird dream he had, but that dream is affecting his life. He doesn’t know why or what’s going on, but it has to do with the ghost he constantly sees. And fun fact, Xander’s name means: Defender of humankind. Very fitting for the boy whose mission was once to find the key and stop the kraang.

[theycallme-thejackal]

One MidgeLenny x TSwift Fic Per Day

149. Karma

"I love this part,” Midge tells Trevor Noah as they sit at the desk. “My granddaughter taught me how to use YouTube, and she set it up so that I get a little notice on my phone whenever you post a new Between the Scenes.”

Trevor grins at that. “Well then by all means, hang out with me. Talk to the audience!” There’s uproarious applause from the crowd.

“You know how I do love an audience, Trevor,” she replies with a sly grin. At eighty-four, she may have slowed down a bit physically, but her wit has remained sharp.

“Well, I will get the ball rolling and then open up to a couple of audience members for questions,” the host says, turning to her. “I was fortunate enough to meet you and your late husband, Lenny Bruce - ” The audience interrupts him to applaud for Lenny, and Midge gives them a grateful smile. It’s been two years since he passed away, and she still misses him every day. “I met the two of you at an event for your memoir, The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel.”

“A fun night,” Midge remembers with a smile. “I’m still kvelling over the fact that millions of people wanted to read a bunch of stories from the life of an old Jewish woman.”

Trevor laughs a little at that. “And the thing I noticed was that...you did your duty of shaking hands and talking to the people who helped get your book out there, but you spent most of your time talking with my generation, the sort of newer set of comics.”

“Well you’re all just so funny!” Midge replies. “You keep me sharp. And...it’s very cool to see the sort of differences in everyone’s voices. Back in my day there were more black-and-white categories. You were a political comic or an impressionist or you had a character you portrayed, and as time has gone on, those lines have become blurred - almost nonexistent. 

“And it’s interesting because - as someone who was coming up in the time of George Carlin and Carol Burnett and Mort Sahl and, of course, Lenny Bruce - I can very much see where the influences come from, and it’s very rewarding when I get to watch a female comic get on stage and talk about her dumpster fire of a life because when I started, women weren’t really allowed to do that.”

She gets a laugh out of the audience and Trevor for that one, and he adds, “I feel very grateful that, as a comedian, I am allowed to sort of talk about whatever I want. I don’t have to limit myself to one schtick.”

“Right,” Midge agrees. “You talk about politics, but you also do impressions and tell stories about taco trucks and your family. I can see influences from Richard Pryor and obviously Jon Stewart. And then there’s...a little hint of Lenny in you,” she tells him with a soft smile.

“And Lenny was a huge influence on Jon,” Trevor explains. “That whole genre of political comedy really influenced both of us.”

“He loved that. He’s always loved mentoring the younger set. That’s how we became friends, after all. He took an interest in my career. And critics over the years have accused him of doing it just to get me into bed, but he was mentoring other comics before I came along, and he continued doing it for the rest of his life. He loved going to little shithole - can I say that here? - shithole comedy clubs and watching these kids who are just starting out and giving them a little advice or a boost.”

Trevor keeps his eyes on her, but starts to turn to the audience. “Well, I could sit here and just talk to you for days, but I want to let the audience ask some questions, so...” Midge laughs a little as Trevor looks out and points to a young man on the right. “Do you have a question for Mrs. Maisel?”

The man, somewhere in his mid-twenties, asks, “What’s been your most rewarding experience in comedy?”

Midge looks back at her. “Well, I’d have to put meeting my husband at the top of the list,” she replies. “But to go back to what we were just discussing, I was on Chelsea Handler’s show a few years ago, and during one of the breaks, she told me about how, as a young, Jewish, female comic, she listened to my records, and how I was such an influence on her comedy. Because she does things in her act that are very similar to what I was doing back in the sixties,” she explains before shrugging. “And she can say fuck and period and pregnant without getting hauled off stage and thrown in a jail cell, so...I think the most rewarding thing is seeing doors open for funny young women that weren’t open in my day.”

Trevor looks to the other side of the audience. “We have time for one more question.” There’s a young woman on the opposite side, whose hand is raised and shaking excitedly, and he points to her. “What would you like to ask Mrs. Maisel?”

She stands up, and Midge sees she’s clutching a copy of her memoir and bouncing a little. “Hi, Mrs. Maisel. I’m such a huge fan,” she gushes.

“Oh, thank you, sweetie,” Midge replies with a smile. “You have excellent taste in books as well, I see.”

The woman giggles and blushes a little bit. “Um, what do you think is the key to your longevity in your career?"

“Just one second,” Midge says, holding up a finger. She gestures to one of the production assistants. “Could you bring her book over here?” She whispers. The assistant nods and heads over.

“If you didn’t know, I’m Jewish,” she explains, getting a laugh from the audience as she grins. “And in Judaism, there’s this concept of midah k'neged midah, which is very similar to what you may know as karma.”

The production assistant sets the book down in front of her. “Thank you,” she says as she sets her readers on her nose and starts to flip through her memoir, looking for a particular passage. “Basically, what goes around comes around. The good things you do bring good things back into your life, and the shit comes back to burn you.”

She finds the passage she was looking for and reads, “I remember standing there on the stage of Carnegie Hall, wearing a dress I had specifically chosen in hopes that it would land on the floor of a very blue room that night, and realizing how badly I had fucked up.

“I hadn’t just turned down a job. I had hurt someone who believed in me, who had stuck his neck out for me, and I couldn’t even be grateful for what he had done because I was so committed to the idea of saying whatever I wanted without consequence.

“As he stood there, his eyes red and teary, I realized that this wasn’t the first time I had hurt someone because of my inability to see past my own desires and experiences. Just six months prior, I had hurt my dear friend by getting on stage at the Apollo and telling jokes that not only hinted at something he had told me in confidence, but also put him in potential danger. I had hidden things from my family that could and would affect their lives. I had ended an engagement to a man in a letter without considering his feelings.

“It was a turning point in my life because I realized too late that there is a world outside of my bubble. That my actions have consequences, and while my spontaneity was my strength, it could also be my downfall.”

She steals a pen from Trevor and flips to the front of the book. “What is your name?” She asks the blonde woman who posed the question.

The young woman looks absolutely stunned. “Uh, it’s Veronica,” she answers.

“Veronica,” Midge repeats. “Veronica, my success has come from learning empathy. From becoming significantly more aware of the people around me. And from taking the time to lift up the people around me instead of tearing them down. 

“I was fortunate enough to find someone who did that for me because - well, he loved me - but more importantly, he believed in me, believed in my talent. So I’ve taken what he gave me - as a comic,” she adds when there are some chuckles from the audience. “My god, Trevor, your audience has a filthy mind.”

“I think you brought out the best in them,” Trevor jokes.

It’s Midge’s turn to laugh then, and she scribbles a note in the front cover. “And I’ve made concerted efforts to pay it forward. When you’re kind to others, that kindness will be returned to you. Maybe not immediately, but eventually. And the key is to continue being kind regardless of what the world throws at you.”

The PA takes the book back to Veronica, who holds it tightly to her chest, grinning from ear to ear. “Alright, Trevor,” Midge says, turning back to the host. “You can have your show back now.”

The room laughs, and Trevor gestures to her. “Mrs. Maisel, everyone!”

[ahedderick]

Hello!

   Early in January a car pulled up outside my house and a woman got out. I wasn’t expecting a guest, so I went to the porch assuming she was lost and I’d give her directions. I stepped out the door just as she was coming up the stairs, and she looked up at me.

   Oh. I know you.

  There was a post written a few months back, I believe by @rederiswrites, about everybody having that one teenage friend who was just . . in SUCH a bad situation that nothing you, a teen yourself, could do would save her. And it was ok to let go sometimes and realize you could not fix this friend���s life no matter how much you wanted to. That post punched me right in the giblets. Yeah. I had that friend. Call her J. Nothing I could do saved her - and I about broke my own heart trying. Meanwhile I had my own small collection of dumpster fires.

   That was a long time ago.

aaaaaaaand here she is. On my porch. Decades later.

Honestly, my first reaction was a sinking heart. I do NOT have the energy right now for someone else’s disasters. When I last knew her, J was All Disaster All the Time. She came in, and we sat down to do a great deal of catching up.

   Well. We have met twice since then. She is . . much the same in personality, but has a stable marriage and a stable housing situation, which moderates her Disaster Tendencies a lot. And I have to say. There is something indefinable about talking to someone who. Actually knew your parents, the good and the bad. Remembers what you were like as a teen. There are things that I have continued to reflect on throughout my life that - she was there. Saw that stuff happening. There’s a value in that that cannot be underestimated.

   I feel very tentative about this. But. Yesterday she brought me a big chunk of the asparagus roots she and her husband dug up when they moved back here from upstate New York a couple months ago. I traded her some peony roots.

   We will see. For today, I am going to go outside and dig a couple of holes for asparagus.

Halloween hijinks, 1980s

[cuddles-with-dragons]

Another story I heard about myself happened way when the Clone Wars first began, back when Anakin was my padawan.

We've all heard of Master Windu, and I was sort of friends with his former padawan, Depa Billaba. We both raise chaotic children. Master Windu is kind of an asshole.

So one day Master Windu gets called out to the Outer Rim on droid killing business, and you should never leave without someone you trust in charge, especially if you're an asshole.

Depa was left in charge. She decided to throw a party, at the Jedi Temple. Everyone heard about it, and thought individually, "okay, let's go over there, and destroy the place."

I walk in, and everyone I ever met was there, and everyone was drinking like it was the end of the world.

People were drinking like it was the time of the High Republic, in a war, and a medic was coming to saw our legs off.

It was totally unsupervised, we were like droids without tauntauns- wait, what?

I go down to basement- everyone's in the basement, and there was a pool table, and this guy takes a running jump onto the pool table and breaks it in half.

Another guy -I don't know who- took a shit in the middle of the council meeting room.

So the party was going great.

I'm standing in the basement, holding a red cup like you see in movies, and I'm starting to black out. Someone said "something something Jedi Council" , and in a brilliant moment of word recognition, I yelled out:

"FUCK THE COUNCIL!"

Everyone else joined in.

The reason someone said that was because the Council was there.

Shaak Ti was at the bottom of the basement stairs, watching a hundred drunk Jedi and clones yell "FUCK THE COUNCIL"

I think she was almost impressed. She got out her comm, and said to someone, "Get the Coruscant Guard."

Yeah, they were all at the party.

My good friend Cody, who is now my husband, who was absolutely hammered, picked up a beer, slammed it on the floor, and yelled: "SCATTER!"

And we all ran in different directions like roaches when the lights come on.

I ran into the laundry room, jumped out the window, landed in a dumpster, blacked out, and woke up in my bed.

The next day, we all went about business as usual. I might have seen a member of the Corrie Guard vomiting in a trash can.

So I don't drink anymore.