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The Ultra Stage 2 English Subtitles for DVD
Here are the ENGLISH subtitles for the second stage version of My Hero Academia: “My Hero Academia: The "Ultra” Stage A True Hero, Plus Ultra version" (Japanese title: 「僕のヒーローアカデミア」The “Ultra"Stage 本物の英雄ヒーローPLUS ULTRA ver.).
DOWNLOAD LINK (Mediafire, rar file) - last update 2nd Jan 2024
DOWNLOAD LINK (Mega) - last update 2nd Jan 2024
(2/Jan/2023: bakuhatsufallinlove went through more proofreading and fixed some mistakes! This was done for the main disc file, not yet for the panoramic version file)
The subtitles are in .ass formats and were synced using Aegisub.
Musical2_MP4 is for the main show in disc 1. Instead, Musical2_PanoramicMP4 is for the panoramic camera view of disc 2.
These subtitles are synced with the officially released dvd but can be used only after transforming the dvd (which has multiple vobs files) into a video file.
In order, this is what you need to do to fully enjoy the musical with subtitles:
1) Buy the dvds: Where to buy the dvds
2) Transform the dvd into mp4 format + add subtitles: How to transform your dvd into a video file and how to add the subtitles to the dvd - guide
3) For a comprehensive summary of musical information (titles, where to buy, etc) you can check the weebly page here or the summary post on this blog (which has tags for pics and videos too).
4) If you see any mistakes, or you would like to translate them in a different language, please contact me here, on twitter or via email ([email protected]) and let us know so we can fix it!
IF YOU HAVE PURCHASED THE DVDS and you need any help making these subtitles work do not hesitate to contact me. I WILL FIGHT AND FIND A SOLUTION UNTIL YOU CAN WATCH THIS SHOW SUBTITLED.
CREDITS
Subtitles and translations have been created by:
bakuhatsufallinlove (tumblr): songs, dialogue, comedy skit, dialogue, sync, editing, proofreading, organizational work
arthurianmaiden (me, also on tumblr here): dialogue, sync, editing, organizational work
Juarhala (tumblr): dialogue, sync
nyankomata3 (twitter): dialogue, songs
MooFish: songs, proofreading (also kickstarted the idea of making subs for the first musical!!)
anakinsama (twitter): comedy skit dialogue, dialogue
frenchlizardbrainfullofktdk (tumblr): songs, dvd/blu ray title cards
dekob0ko (twitter): dialogue, comedy skit dialogue
We also used some missing song lines from orchidsubs/orchid4hire youtube translations with their permission (youtube channel here).
Remaining bits of songs and dialogues were translated by fiverr user kentranslations with funds donated by yokky, magical-girl-mascot, Rage, Elle Cross, B. and their friend (anonymous), St. Kretis. Thank you so much!!
THANKS
This is a personal message from me.
I wanted to thanks all the people mentioned above (in particular bakuhatsufallinlove, Juarhala, anakinsama, MooFish, frenchlizardbrainfullofktdk, nyankomata3) not only for the translations and donations and literally creating the subtitles (SO HAPPY TO BE ABLE TO WATCH THE MUSICALS WITH SUBS), but also for always keeping this musical alive?? Keeping the enthusiasm for the musical so high that I ended up literally travelling to Japan to watch it live!!
And I also wanted to thank other users who partecipated in so much musical fandom conversations and enthusiasm that not even for a second I was bored of tired or it, in particular meiru (TRULY A PILLAR!), yokky, Ohreokun, saiyanhajime, barb, doc, J, Dyna_Ryou, watterbotle, Skye, ripley_riot, julianbarragan93, buneybeep, Bambi, barista, beep, Pebble, dangeroustrashsandwichthesequel, AdmirableMairon, micaron, Stinkfly3, queen_of_mischief, Friendly Savage, Xime, Iona, bisexualshakespeare, bubble, miki, Meylovesbkdk, JJ!
Hopefully I did not forget anyone!
Also apologies for the poor people who follow me on twitter and are subjected to these musicals daily. It will happen again.
If you would like to help us with future subtitles (backstage and extras, or musical 3 and 4) feel free to contact me! Or if you would like to donate for commissioning translations, this is my kofi.
#bakudeku#bnha#my hero academia#the ultra stage#subtitles#bnha musical#bnha musical subtitles#mine#AND NOT ONLY MINE sorry I use this tag to save stuff#I am just one of many people who worked on these!!
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#a good letter about boundaries and expectations#tumblr literally would not let me fix the message above so
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Love Has a Learning Curve: Part VII (x reader)
Summary: Reader tries to make things right, with a little push from her mama.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader
Category: hurt/comfort
Warnings/Includes: none
a/n: I know, I know— please just let our babies be happy ♥️ and so it was. Also, big ups to my tumblr gf @idmakeitbehave for being my beta the past two chapters.
Series Masterlist
———
One week.
That’s how long it had been since their argument. Spencer had driven back to his apartment in silence, absolutely stunned by the way things had blown up.
They’d gotten back from the case in Utah on the fifth of January, and he’d driven straight to Y/N’s, ready to give her a belated New Year’s kiss. Immediately upon entering her apartment, he knew something was wrong. Her hug was stiff, her kiss brief, her eye contact minimal. He’d spent the night, but they barely touched, and she left early for work without waking him. He’d let himself out and texted her later in the day to invite her over for dinner.
Dinner hadn’t been any less awkward, and when he felt awkward, he knew it was bad. He finally couldn’t ignore it any longer, and he’d called it out. He had expected some resistance, but he hadn’t expected that. Y/N never spoke to him with any malice at all, even when he was actually doing something that irritated her. She was the queen of healthy communication. So for her to speak to him like that meant that the underlying issue was much, much worse than he’d originally thought.
He’d gone over their conversations a thousand times, looking desperately for the moment that it went wrong. After some deep consideration, he was certain that something had happened on New Year’s Eve. He just wasn’t sure what. Y/N was insistent that she wasn’t bothered by the declined call, but he still wished he could go back in time and answer it. He was pretty sure the seeds of their argument had sprouted in that moment, regardless of what she said.
Spencer knew she was a creature of habit, and that sometimes she needed space to process and experience her emotions. And if he was being honest, he needed some space after the argument, too. But usually she would have at least texted him by now.
He sighed and set down his newspaper, realizing he’d read the same page four times and hadn’t retained any of it. It was Friday, and he knew she was working. But still his fingers itched to dial her number. He picked up the phone, pressing a key to light up the screen yet again.
No new messages.
He dropped the phone back to the table with a little more force than was necessary. He decided he’d give her the rest of the weekend. If he didn’t hear from her by Sunday, he’d have to do something.
…
Y/N dropped her bag on the floor inside the door and turned to lock the deadbolt. She had managed to sneak out of the building without being stopped by Anita, and she thanked the universe for small miracles.
She didn’t want to have to explain herself. She didn’t want anyone to know what an absolute troll she’d been. Considering that Sam and Spencer had practically become attached at the hip since they’d started hanging out more, Anita was bound to ask about him.
She showered and ordered Thai food, snuggling down on the couch to watch a movie with Roald. She settled on Dumplin’— a favorite for the body positivity, the southern drawls, and the Dolly Parton drag.
And then she came to the argument outside of Harpy’s and lost what little emotional stability she had left.
“Never took you for the type that cares much what people think.”
“I can’t, Bo. And that might make me a coward, but—”
“It does. Willowdean Dixon, I think you’re beautiful. To hell with anyone who’s ever made you feel less than that.”
She didn’t realize she was crying until Roald meowed in distress. She choked out a sob and stroked over his ears, closing her eyes in defeat. “I really fucked this up, huh?”
It had only been one week, but it felt like years since Spencer walked out of her apartment. She’d stayed in bed for the entire weekend, crying on and off. She knew she had no one to blame but herself. Owen had knocked over the first domino, but she’d done nothing to stop the rest from falling.
Spencer had done everything right. He’d done everything she asked, and she’d thrown it all back in his face. He had made the comparison to Mitchell Park, and he was absolutely right. She’d done the exact same thing, only she had almost a year’s worth of ammunition, and she cut a hell of a lot deeper.
Roald nuzzled against her, but she nudged him away— she didn’t even deserve the comfort. Instead, she fumbled in the couch cushions for her phone, swiping open the screen and tapping her favorites list, thumb hovering over Spencer’s name. Then she tapped on the name right above it and blew out a breath.
The line connected and rang three times before she picked up. “Hey, sugar! Your ears must be ringin’, ‘cause I was just thinkin’ about callin’ you.”
“Hey, mama,” Y/N breathed.
Her mother’s tone changed from chipper to concerned in an instant. “What’s wrong, baby?”
She leaned forward to the coffee table to grab Spencer’s scarf— somehow left behind in her apartment— rubbing it between her fingers. “I— I really messed up.”
“Oh, Lord. You need bail money?”
Despite herself, Y/N laughed wetly. “Oh my god , mama. No, I don’t need bail money.”
“Well, if you made bail it can’t be that bad,” Rose insisted.
“I didn’t— I’m not in jail, for Christ’s sake.” Y/N ran a hand over her face. “I messed things up with Spencer.”
“Well, we can fix that,” Rose responded matter of factly. “What happened?”
“We were fighting, and I said some really, really awful things,” Y/N admitted, tears spilling over her lash line.
Rose scoffed. “Honey, I say awful things to your father all the time, and we’ve been married almost 40 years.”
Y/N heaved a long sigh. “Not like this, mama.”
Her mother hummed in consideration. “Well, what were y’all fightin’ about?”
“It’s complicated,” Y/N hedged, toying with the fringe of the scarf.
Rose clicked her tongue. “Do ya want my help or not?”
Y/N dropped her head back against the couch. “I ran into Owen on New Year’s Eve—”
“Well, I hope you told him to stick it where the sun don’t shine,” Rose practically growled.
Y/N closed her eyes as the tears tracked hot down her cheeks. “I didn’t. I— I let him get under my skin, and then I didn’t want to tell Spencer about it because it’s embarrassing, but he knew something was wrong, and he wouldn’t stop asking about it.” She had to pause and suck in a hiccuping breath, releasing it on a sob. “So I yelled at him and said all kinds of terrible things, and then he left, and now I think maybe we broke up, and I’ve literally never been so sad in my whole life.”
There was a long pause on the other end of the phone, and then she heard Rose sniffling. “Really shoulda had your brothers knock the mess out of that son of bitch when we had the chance. He's been gone five years, and he’s still hurtin’ you every chance he gets.”
Y/N swiped uselessly at the tear tracks on her cheeks, sniffling pathetically. “And now I hurt the person who’s spent the last year singlehandedly undoing all of his awful handiwork.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” Rose cooed. Y/N could hear the creak of the floorboards as her mother walked through her childhood home. “You said he knew somethin’ was wrong, right? I can almost guarantee that he’s still just wonderin’ what’s goin’ on. I know he’s supposed to be a genius, but he’s still a man. And men are dumb, sugar. You gotta spell it out for ‘em. Have you talked to him since?”
“No.” Fresh tears spilled over Y/N’s lashes as the thoughts that had kept her from calling him spilled out of her mouth. “What if it was too far? What if I ruined everything? What if he never wants to speak to me again?”
Ross heaved out a long breath. “That’s a lot of what ifs, Y/N.”
“What if I’m right?” she whispered.
“And what if you’re not?” Rose countered. “That boy loves you. Anyone could see that, clear as day. He’d do just about anything for you.” Rose paused, and Y/N heard the springs of the bed squeak as she sat. “But you gotta let him, sweetheart. Right now you’re takin’ away his chance to do that. You’re makin’ the decision for him.”
Y/N listened as her mother’s advice crackled over the line, and for the first time in a week, she felt a tiny sliver of hope.
“If he doesn’t want to be with you anymore, you need to let him tell you that. Don’t settle for a what if. Find out for sure, or you're gonna spend the rest of your life worryin’ and wonderin’, sugar.”
…
That evening found Spencer in his usual spot on the couch, reclined against the arm with a book in hand. He’d promised himself he’d give Y/N the weekend to herself— that he’d let her come to him. That didn’t stop him from checking his phone obsessively; it never buzzed with any new calls or messages, but he still looked every seven minutes.
The sound of the buzzer jolted his body to attention. He checked his watch and drew his brows together before closing his book and scrambling to cross to the intercom, a tiny seed of hope beginning to germinate. He pressed the button to talk, calling, “Yes?” into the speaker box and then listening for the response.
“Hi.”
Her voice was so quiet that he could barely hear it over the crackle of the speaker. He buzzed her in without hesitation, crossing to the door and opening it immediately. She made her way slowly up the stairs, turning at the top of the landing and pausing.
His heart broke at the sight of her. She looked utterly exhausted, dressed in black sweatpants and a soft purple sweater, a black puffer jacket over top. She was holding his scarf, wringing it in between her hands. Her eyes were ringed red, and the bags under them were worse than his.
He watched as she crossed the landing, coming to stand quietly in front of him. He’d known something was wrong, but the way she looked now made him wonder just how long she’d been battling whatever private demons she wouldn’t let him in on.
“I, um.” She cleared her throat, and it was clear she’d been crying from the thickness of her voice. “I have a lot to say— again. But since I was such an asshole, I wanted to give you the opportunity to say anything you need to say first.”
He’d imagined this conversation countless times over the last week, and never once had he thought it would start like this. “Um. Well. You— you really hurt me.”
She could barely look at him. “I know.”
He swallowed. “Please don’t do that again.”
She shook her head, finally meeting his eyes. “I won’t. I won’t ever again.”
Spencer tucked his hands into the pockets of his lounge pants. “I know I may not be the best at social cues, but I’m a pretty good profiler. And I can tell when something’s wrong.” He raised his eyebrows. “You don’t have to tell me everything. I’m just asking you to tell me when I do something that makes you upset.”
“You— you didn’t do anything wrong. I—” He watched her squeeze her eyes shut. “God, I’m so sorry, Spencer. I’m just— I’m sorry for so many things. For lying about being fine, for being up on my high horse about communicating and then not actually doing it, for being an absolute bitch.”
He wanted to argue— she wasn’t a bitch— but he could tell she was far from done.
“I— I thought therapy was supposed to teach me how to talk about things, but this still feels… impossible to say out loud,” she admitted, fingers fumbling with the fabric of the scarf. “It’s embarrassing and ridiculous. But I— I have deep-seated insecurities. That I’m not really that smart or interesting or particularly special.”
He thought back to that night in Mitchell Park and felt the guilt all over again. He’d practically said those exact words to her— it was no wonder she was feeling this way.
“And every person that I’ve ever been with has— really reinforced those ideas, so for a long time they were just… a set part of my self-image,” she explained, dragging a hand over her messy hair. “I thought— I thought that I was over it, but I— I don’t know. Maybe you never really are.”
His brain sorted through every moment of their year together, pinging off the countless examples of her self-doubt and insecurity. She was easily the most wonderful person he knew, but he could clearly see the cracks in the facade if he looked close enough. How had he missed it for so long?
“And then I met you, and you…” Y/N let out a wry laugh. “You’re easily the most interesting person I’ve ever met, but you made me feel like… I don’t know, like I’m interesting, too. Like I’m worthy of being with you, like I’m— like I’m good enough.”
He felt his heart splintering into a thousand tiny shards— good enough?
“But I can’t— I still have a hard time believing it sometimes. And I— I’ve been letting myself keep you at arms length. Letting you see parts of me, but… never giving you everything,” she admitted.
He watched her struggle to get the words out, her voice thick with the act of holding back sobs. He hadn’t realized she was carrying all of this. She was so good at supporting him and loving him through all of his trauma and issues, he hadn’t stopped to consider just how much she needed him, too.
She continued, “It’s why I took so long to say I love you… why I couldn’t talk to you last week. Because I just—” She shrugged as the tears rolled down her cheeks. “I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. For you to realize that I’m really nothing special. That you’re getting bored, or there’s someone who’s a better fit for you, or one million other things. That I’m needy, and annoying, and too much work.”
A fresh tear tracked down her cheek, and he felt his own eyes filling. She never failed to put a stop to his own insecurities— reminding him that she liked his rambling, that he wasn’t irritating, that he was just the right amount. In his eyes, she was perfect. He would have never guessed she felt this way about herself.
She continued, “That’s what happened before, and none of those guys were even half as wonderful as you are.” She swiped a hand haphazardly over her cheeks, looking at him sheepishly. “And then I was hurtful and awful, and I realized that I was just creating a self fulfilling prophecy and I don’t— I don’t want to do that.”
Her hand shook a little as she brought it back down to twist in his scarf. “Because it’s never— I’ve never felt like this. I've never been this happy with anyone else, and I don’t want to give that up. I don’t want to give you up. Even if sometimes I feel like I’ll never be enough.”
Her voice cracked on a stifled cry, and his chest physically ached. “And if you never want to see me again, I completely understand, and I’ll leave you alone, but I— I’m just so sorry. And I love you so much, and I’m trying so hard to be better.” She sucked in a ragged breath and let it out on an exhausted sigh. “And that’s, um— that’s it. If you want me to go, I—”
“I don’t want you to go,” he interrupted.
Her eyes went wide. “You don’t?”
“Of course not.” Spencer stepped forward and reached for her. “Of course not. C’mere.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, she was tumbling into his arms with a choked off sob. He pulled her inside and closed the door behind them, walking her to the couch and sitting them both down. She clung to him like she was afraid he’d disappear into thin air.
“Y/N, I’m right here,” he assured her. “I’m right here, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”
“But if you n-need space, I understand,” she sobbed.
“I appreciate the offer, but I don’t need space. I think a week was long enough, don’t you?” he asked, pressing a kiss into her hair.
She pulled back out of the hug, head down. “But I really hurt you.”
He held her hand. “Yeah. And I really hurt you, too.”
She huffed out a breath. “That’s not how this works. I don’t get to hurt you just because you hurt me.”
“I know that.” He almost laughed at how indignant she sounded. “I’m not saying that we should hurt each other. I’m saying that sometimes it happens. And when it does, we apologize, and we forgive, and we move forward. And it’s okay if you need space. But I don’t.”
“What if you change your mind?” she whispered.
“Then I promise I’ll tell you.” Spencer tilted her chin up so he could meet her eyes. “I promise I’ll tell you what I need, as long as you tell me, too. We’ve gotta use all those communication skills we learn in therapy.”
Y/N nodded, and he pulled her into another hug. He closed his eyes, letting out a sigh of relief. “If I hadn’t heard from you by Sunday, I was planning to bother you until you talked to me.”
He could feel the beginning of a smile turning up the corner of her mouth where it was pressed to his shoulder. “You never bother me,” she mumbled. She held him for a moment longer and then released him from the hug and sat back, fidgeting with her hands and letting out a breath.
“Sometimes I need to be told that my worst fears about myself aren’t true,” she admitted. “I know that’s so annoying, but—”
“It’s not annoying,” he interrupted, putting an immediate stop to that line of thought. “Telling you how amazing you are isn’t the chore that you think it is. I’m sorry that anyone ever convinced you that it was.”
He covered her hands with his own, rubbing his thumbs softly along her skin. He couldn’t stop thinking about her dealing with all of this by herself. He hated that she’d ever felt anything less than adored. More than anything, he hated that he hadn’t been able to help her through it. And he wanted to make sure that he never made that mistake again.
“A wise man told me once... that love is helping someone navigate their storms,” he murmured, squeezing her hand. She looked at him then, and he continued, “You’ve been my lighthouse for a long time, Y/N. And I— I’m trying desperately to be yours… But you have to let me.”
Her eyes filled with fresh tears, but she nodded. He let out a long breath and pulled her hands into his lap. “I understand that sometimes you need space, and that’s fine. I’m happy to give you whatever you need.”
He shook his head. “Just— please don’t try to weather the storm by yourself. You can’t do it all alone; no one can.” He smiled ruefully. “I can tell you from experience that’s pretty much a guaranteed way to capsize your boat.”
His voice cracked a little at the end, and he felt a tear slip over his lash line. “I’ll help you repair your boat, or build a new one, or you can just float on mine for a while. It’s not perfect but it’s pretty sturdy, I think.”
She brought her fingers up to brush at his damp cheeks, and he met her eyes. “What I’m not going to do is let you float out on the ocean by yourself. I love you too much.”
She was quiet for a long moment, sniffling a little and just watching him— almost like she couldn’t believe he was there. She brought her hand back to his and laced their fingers together, rubbing her thumb along his skin. “I love you the most.”
“Agree to disagree.” He gave her a small smile and leaned forward to press his lips to her forehead. “Want some tea?”
She was frowning when he pulled back, her brows drawn together. “I need to tell you about Owen.”
The conversation he’d had with Anita was suddenly on replay in Spencer’s head.
… a real piece of shit… telling her lies about herself… isolating her… destroying her from the inside out...
He squeezed her hand. “You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready. You don’t have to tell me at all if you don’t want to.”
She shook her head. “Talking about him takes away his power. I have to stop letting him have so much sway over my emotions.” She looked at him then. “I do things I regret and hurt people I love.”
He brought their joined hands up his lips. “Well, I’m here either way. And I’m still going to make you some tea.”
He stood and pulled her up with him, bringing her into the kitchen and refusing to let go of her hand. He filled the kettle and turned it on, found a bag of her favorite tea and ripped it open with his teeth. He dropped the bag into her favorite mug, and then made a mug up for himself.
“You know, it’d be a lot easier if you’d let go,” she said, the hint of a smile in her voice.
“Mhm,” he agreed, but he made no move to release her hand. In fact, once he’d fumbled a spoonful of honey into each of the cups, he dropped the spoon into her mug and turned to pull her into another hug. He hooked his chin over her shoulder and closed his eyes as she brought her arms around his waist. “I missed you,” he whispered.
She squeezed him tight. “I missed you, too. I’m so sorry.”
She buried her face in his neck, and he felt her breathe him in. He pressed a kiss into her shoulder and then settled his chin again. “Apology accepted, in case it wasn’t clear.”
They stood like that until the kettle began to whistle, and then Spencer kept her tucked underneath his arm as he turned to shut it off and pour the water into the mugs. They each grabbed a mug, making their way back to the couch and setting them on the coffee table to steep. Spencer kept their fingers intertwined and stayed quiet, letting her set the pace of the conversation.
Y/N took a deep breath and let it out on a long sigh. “I guess I should start at the beginning. I, um— I had my first boyfriend in high-school: Cal Cunningham. He was older and cooler, and so I felt— I don’t know… special when he picked me.” She rolled her eyes. “In reality, he was rude, and arrogant, and kind of a misogynist. We didn’t date for very long, but it kind of… set me up on this path of dating guys who weren’t very nice.”
Spencer ran his thumb soothingly along hers, waiting for her to continue. “When I started college, I dated this guy Adam for a few months. He was nice enough but really self-centered and a little immature. When we broke up I just wanted to be on my own for a while.”
“I was single for two years after that, just kind of… finding myself and whatever.” Her eyes tracked the path his thumb traced along her skin. “So when I started dating Owen at the end of junior year, it felt like my first real relationship. Like— we were both adults, and he dressed up for our dates, and he paid for things and bought me flowers and fit all the cliches.”
“And it was great at first,” she admitted. “We had a lot of the same friends, so we’d been hanging out for a while before we got together. He was a perfect gentleman— and smart, accomplished, and ambitious. I fell fast, and I fell hard, and we were sort of— it feels so stupid to say this, but it felt like we were an it couple.”
“A few of us made plans to move to DC after graduation— my friend Jess and her boyfriend Chris, Sam and Anita,” she explained. “And Owen and I, obviously. We moved in together in an apartment downtown. And that’s when everything changed.”
She drew her brows together. “It was little things at first. Like he’d jokingly call me stupid for forgetting something, or he’d complain about one of my friends being annoying. But it snowballed pretty quickly. He’d tell me I was stupid, and he wasn’t joking. All of my friends irritated him to the point where we couldn’t hang out anymore— even our former mutual friends. He thought that teaching kindergarten was a mindless, pointless job.”
Spencer tried to keep his heart rate steady, his facial expressions neutral, but his blood pressure was on the rise. No one deserved to be spoken to like that, least of all Y/N.
She continued, “We spent the holidays at my parents’ the second year we were dating, and he spent the entire car ride home explaining, in detail, how ridiculous and low-class he thought everything was.”
She shook her head and rubbed her free hand over her face. “I know it’s insane that I stayed with him for five years, but I— he did a really good job of convincing me that I was... that I was nothing. That he was doing me a favor by loving me. That he could have anyone, but he chose me. No one else was going to, so I should be grateful.”
He balled his free hand into a fist to avoid squeezing her to death. When Anita had said Owen was a piece of shit… he hadn’t realized just how deeply she meant it.
She picked at the fabric of her sweatpants, staring intently at the tiny pills. “When someone says all of that to you on a daily basis, and you’re not hearing otherwise from anyone else— because no one knew what was going on— when someone tells you you’re nothing… you start to believe it.”
Spencer relaxed his fist to bring his fingers up to her face, gently cupping her cheek. She leaned into his touch and closed her eyes for a long moment. He didn’t know what to say. Instead, he pressed his lips to her forehead in a voiceless assurance that she was, in fact, everything. He felt her relax under the warm pressure of his lips, and he hoped that was enough for now.
He sat back to let her continue. “We were together for five years, and we only broke up because he cheated on me. It was a long term affair; they were sleeping together for almost a year before I found out. And… a lot of people knew. Almost all of his friends knew. But I didn’t. I was still being this ridiculous, desperate little Suzy Homemaker trying to make him happy, even though he was still treating me like shit.”
She laughed, but there wasn’t an ounce of humor in it. “When I found out, I wasn’t even hurt. I was… embarrassed, I guess. But I was so relieved. I was so fucking relieved that I had a way out.”
He watched as her shoulders settled, almost like an actual weight had been lifted off of them. “I got a therapist and dropped all of the friends that were still hanging around with him. I moved to a new neighborhood, started hanging out with Anita and Sam, and just— started fresh. And I was doing really well. I’ve had my moments of insecurity here and there, but for the most part, I’ve been able to recognize the moments when I’m falling back into old thought patterns.”
She looked at him then, and her eyes were so soft and lovely that his heart ached. “You’re a big reason for that. You’re so open with how you feel about me, and… it makes things a lot easier.” She dropped her gaze with a sigh. “But I— he was at the party on New Year's. And I didn’t know he was going to be there until I was already there , and then it felt stupid to leave. I thought I could handle it—”
“And then I didn’t answer your call.”
“No, no .” She shook her head and reached her free hand out to grasp his arm. “That’s— Spencer, none of this is your fault.” She furrowed her brow, and the crease between them was practically an abyss. “He sort of— cornered me on the patio. I hadn’t seen him in like, four years? And he was complimenting me, and asking about you, and then he tried to— well, he did kiss me actually. I shoved him off, and he didn’t like that, and he did his whole Owen thing. Told me that he’d cheated because I was uninteresting and worthless. That eventually you’d get bored of me, too. Just, um— generally awful shit.”
She took a deep breath, and the rest steamrolled off her tongue and over his heart. “And then he just— left . And he’d absolutely demolished my self-image in less than ten minutes, and I was embarrassed and angry at myself, and then you didn’t answer, but I was kind of glad you didn’t because I didn’t actually want to talk about it. And I thought I could just move on, but then I was being weird, and you knew something was wrong. And I just wanted to pretend like it never happened, but then you kept pressing me on it, and I just— I didn’t want to have to explain it all to you because I was afraid that— that maybe he was right.”
Y/N dissolved back into the couch, an unwelcome indication of the emotional exhaustion that came with reliving trauma. Spencer moved closer and mirrored the position of her body against the cushions, bringing his face close enough to bump their noses together. They breathed the same air for one noiseless minute before she finally met his eyes.
“I need you to understand that not one single thing he said to you— on New Year’s or ever— was right, in either sense of the word. None of it was factual, and none of it was acceptable.”
She gave him a weary nod, and he continued, “You are the single best person that I know. You’re kind, brilliant, and driven. You’re interesting, and wonderful, and lovely. You’re my absolute favorite person on the planet, and I will never get bored of you.”
He let his eyes trace over all the angles and curves of her face, and then raised his eyebrows. “He’s lucky that I respect you enough not to go over your head, because what I’d like to do is run a full background check and find any and every possible transgression that could be legally investigated and then use that information to ruin his life.” He tilted his head in thought. “That or— get really jacked and then beat the shit out of him.”
“God, please don’t. As much as I’d love to watch that unfold,” she cupped his face in her hand, “you’re better than that. And he’s not worth either of our energies… I already wasted enough time dwelling on it and hurt you in the process.” She dropped her hand back to her lap with a sigh. “I spent so much time in that relationship that my brain didn’t know what to do with this good, healthy one.”
He took both of her hands in his, squeezing them tight and then pressing a kiss to the back of each. He wouldn’t commit assault, since she’d asked him not to. But he wasn’t going to let Owen taint any part of his life with her.
“I’m so sorry that someone you loved made you think it was hard to love you. Because loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done.” He pressed his lips together and mused, “But I think maybe love has a learning curve. Especially when you’re used to being hurt. You have to unlearn all the bullshit. People will have you thinking that you have to water yourself down, or change who you are, or make yourself more palatable. I thought that, too.”
He brushed her hair back away from her face and waited for her to meet his eyes. “And then I met you. And you love all of it— all of me. All the rambling, all the quirks, and— even the dark parts, too.”
She sniffled a little, but really smiled for the first time that night. “What’s not to love about you?”
He smiled back. “I’m not sure if you realize that I fully reciprocate that feeling. What’s not to love about you? I have a hard time thinking of even one thing about you that I don’t absolutely adore.”
“Even when I act like a horrid bitch?” she mumbled, only half joking.
He leaned his head against the couch cushion. “A year ago, you stood on my doorstep and gave me forgiveness— after I’d been a complete asshole to you... I told you then that I wanted to learn how to love with you. I still do. In all the wonderful, and the weird, and the terrible. Even when we get it wrong.”
He shrugged, and then ran a soft fingertip down the bridge of her nose. “There is no one else I’d rather get it wrong with. Because when we get it right… it’s the closest I’ve ever felt to magic.”
Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears, and she brought both hands up to his face, holding him with an adoration that made his own eyes burn. “You can believe that you love me the most,” she whispered, “but just know that you’re wrong.”
He leaned forward to close the distance between them, pressing a kiss to her lips with a reverence that felt technicolor and devout and more magical than any trick he’d ever mastered.
“Agree to disagree.”
———
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What On Earth Has Happened
Hey, no story here, no experiments. Just a play by play of an awful year in my life. Please don't reblog. Trying to just get it down in one place for people who care about me. Long, sob-story beneath the cut.
Air - 'Things are looking up!' I had started to drift a bit from tumblr. The porno purge came and a lot of my friends trickled off the platform after that. I went back to school, attempting to score myself a Masters degree in something that would pay enough to get me out of Student Debt. I was doing great, picking things up fast. I got a new job at a company doing pretty menial work, but the people I worked with were great conversationalists. The work didn't involve dealing with customers at all, paid well, and was small and accomplishable tasks. Essentially I was being prepped to take a better position at the place once I had my Masters. Covid happened, then. Earth - 'The Whole World Sucks Right Now' My company was "essential," so I continued going to work, now on weird schedules. The company I worked for was profiting off Covid, all the while making fun of it as an overblown conspiracy, even as their own epidemiologist urged them to take better precautions. Work became hard to swallow. Water - 'When your lowest place could be lower' The apartment I shared with my boyfriend flooded. The lowest place in any sewage system is typically the bathtub, such that if it backs up, it does so into that tub. Our lowest point is the toilet. So the apartment flooded. Three times. Roots growing through the sewage outflow meant that, often, you needed to wait a solid hour between toilet flushes, or else the toilet would back up with such gusto the sewage would slosh down the hallway and into the living room. We mopped many times. The problem was finally fixed 8 months later, necessitating our having to camp because our house had no water. Fire - 'To destroy all you've done' One afternoon, I smelled burning. Going to our bedroom, I found our shelf a column of flame. I could barely breathe for all the smoke, but I managed to grab a blanket and beat the fire out. On the other side of the room, the pages of the books upon another shelf had begun to crisp from the heat, the blinds on all the windows were warped. The whole apartment had been about to go up. I'm kinda scared of fire now. Heart - 'When moving is too much to ask' Personal health sorta hit a new low. Migraines kept me out of work for two full weeks. I have seasonal foot pain, I always assumed from hiking for a living in my 20s. Turns out it was gout, all the while. Gout is exceptionally painful: it's like a messy pile of razor blades in the ball of your foot every time you step down. At work, I could barely stand. Walking from my car to the door became something I needed to psyche myself up for. Not a lot can stop a gout flare-up once it's in full swing, so I just had to wait it out. For a month. Two. Some of the worst sustained pain I've been in. Little did I know that, in January, come the kidney stones. Kidney stones feel awful. Feel like total shit. Gout and kidney stones are comorbid--brought about as a result of the meds I take to help me focus. So any day I don't drink enough water is a day when my kidneys or my foot just starts aching. But going back to September of 2020... Homophobia - 'goddammit' Finally things are looking better. I'm limping quickly again. Then I am called into the HR office. I am told that two sexual harassment charges have been brought against me. I'm told that one individual has alleged that I, while in the restroom, used a reflective toilet brush to attempt to peep him under a stall wall. I did not do this. I do not understand--reflective toilet brush?? wtf. The second allegation: I just straight up looked over a stall at a guy. I didn't do this either. I'm asked to defend myself, I ask who or date or time of day. I am given nothing. I remark that I don't think I'm tall enough to see over the stall, and I do not understand about the toilet brush. Of the ten minutes of the meeting, I spend 8 of them trying to get my head around how a claim about a reflective toilet brush has me here. "Would you like us to go now to see if you're tall enough to see over the stall? If that would help your defense?" says the HR head. "Yes, I
would," says I. We did not go. I am told that the accusers have no reason to be collaborating, or to even know each other made a claim. This is bullshit, because it was a company of 80 people, and only a quarter of those employees used the restroom where my alleged harassment was to have taken place. Before I am dismissed from work for the day to go home and wait to find out if I'll be fired or not, I march into the HR office once more and say "I hope none of this is happening because I'm gay." The HR head looks positively offended. I got fired cuz I'm gay. Next day I got a call. They'd come to the "objective truth" (that phrase is burned in my mind), and were terminating me. Apparently they discounted the toilet brush rumor, after all. But they really honestly believed I looked over the stall at a dude. Nightmare - 'No Fear One Fear' Let me tell you something: this is a nightmare. This is my honest-to-god nightmare. I've been terrified of getting accused of something in a bathroom since I was 11 years old. I am incredibly self-conscious and careful in public restrooms. To be fired? From a place full of people I like? And all of them will think I'm a pervert. My boyfriend worked at the same place. He would now have to work there every day dealing with people looking at him and wondering what he must think of his boyfriend. That sent me on a spiral. I'm still out of work, almost a year later. It would have been the worst mental health crisis of my life if it wasn't for my boyfriend, my support network, and the meds I've finally been able to get ahold of. Oh, also. My two accusers? Were roommates. HR knew they were roommates. They basically collaborated on a story to get me fired. The story circulating around the place (I still have acquaintances I talk to working there) has dropped the reflective toilet brush entirely. I guess they thought it was too unbelievable. So anyway, the people who accused me are now telling a different set of events than what I was told. Absolute horse shit. Tried to go to my city's human right's council to see if my situation warranted further attention. I gave my side of the story--including tales of the straight manager who had had enough harassment charges brought against him that he was no longer allowed to meet female staff--which indicated I'd been treated differently and wrongly. My old job made an impassioned argument that the committee violated their First Amendment rights(?) ('Freedom of speech' is the biggie with the First Amendment, for people who cba re:USA). I won the vote!! But one member of the committee was missing. So there weren't enough people for the vote to pass. Dismissed. We took it to the EEOC to make an official federal complaint. Just a week ago, an agent of the US Government patiently explained to us that these laws are literally designed to fuck over the worker and protect the employer unless they are epically stupid, and unfortunately, mine had not been epically stupid. So there's nowhere to go, no recourse to be had. It's over, I guess. Family - 'How to sum it up quickly...' My family hit me with the old soft-disown. No more calls, no more communication. They think they are loving me by not having contact with me. By depriving me of my family, they hope it will make me realize that the path I'm on is destructive, and I'll return to them living an upright life. No. I'm living an upright life, now. And if my family can choose to throw me away, then they are not a family I choose. Then my dad hit me back two months later, absolutely gaslighting me and pretending we never had the disown conversation at all. Reality - 'I don't know who I am anymore' I have trouble knowing what's real, anymore. Every message my dad sends on the surface seems loving and supportive and plaintive. I feel I must be the one in the wrong. I got fired for bullshit reasons. It doesn't feel real. "My family can't possibly have ceased contact with me: that's one of those things I know can never happen!!" But that did happen. So what else that feels real, actually isn't? I do
mean to be so dramatic, and I won't apologize for it. But I truly do feel like my mind has been pretty thoroughly unseated by the last year. Whoever I am, I'm becoming someone different. More distilled, at very least. I've discovered a lot of things about myself: trauma that has likely led to a lot of my mental health problems. Discovered I actually have RAGING ADHD, and it has robber me of a lot of things I wanted to do, and now is sort of consuming me completely. I'm looking for help. Trying to get better. Here's hoping. Every bold point above could be its own book, for all my thoughts about them. But enough of that for now. Love you. Thanks for reading.
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Cryptic Mystic: What’s Your Sign?
Many of us are fascinated by astrology and all things outer space related. The great unknown that is beyond the stars has been a hot topic for centuries. But, how did the zodiac begin? What makes astrological signs and the alignment of planets and stars so magical? Is it truly prophetic? Does your sign define your personality, past, present, and future? Or is this simply another product of the Barnum Effect?
So I’ll start by asking the obvious: “what’s your sign?” I’m a Leo through and through. While I’m skeptical about the claims of some astrological signs and their relation to my life on a daily basis, I do believe there is some truth here - as is with most things. This topic is one that I have been wanting to write about for some time now. I have always found outer space, stars, planets, etc. to be fascinating. As a child, I remember laying in the grass and watching the stars above me. In my little valley in the forest, I could see so many stars that wouldn’t be visible if I were in the city. I am so thankful I had that childhood experience of growing up somewhere where I could truly connect with nature and the simple things around me that most take for granted on a day-to-day basis. I still stargaze to this day, but I can’t see near as many as I once did in my childhood forest valley home. I’ve seen a plethora of shooting stars throughout my lifetime, two meteor showers, two solar eclipses, and plenty of unidentified objects that were likely satellites… or were they…?
One time when I was driving home from work late one night I saw something that befuddled me. As I drove down the winding 2 lane highway in the darkness of the night I saw what appeared to be a helicopter hovering right above the trees. Now, this area I was driving through was rural. There are few houses in those woods, but there are some. The backroads leading to the site where the “helicopter” was hovering are seldom traveled, especially this late at night. I began processing the event in my mind and questioning if it was a helicopter, why would it be hovering so low and what exactly would it be doing in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night. It just didn’t make sense. I thought about logical explanations and could only come up with one. There is the slim possibility that someone driving on one of the many backroads in that area may have got into an accident and was getting airlifted to a hospital. I’ve seen it happen before on backroads near there. Aside from this idea, I had nothing. By this point, I had obviously slowed down so I could get a better look. Hell, there wasn’t any traffic so it’s not like I was worried about causing an accident or anything. As I looked closer I noticed it wasn’t a helicopter at all. There were about 4-6 large bright lights shining down below the area that the craft was hovering over. The circumference of this craft was much wider than a helicopter - more circular. The lights were far too big and far too bright. Whether it was fear, shock, tiredness, or my stomach growling, I continued to drive on and leave the peculiar scene behind. Now, I know this has nothing to do with astrology or zodiac signs, but it is an interesting story nonetheless.
In reference to zodiac signs, I find that descriptions of a Leo with my particular birthdate are genuinely pretty accurate when describing my personality and conflicts. However, the daily horoscopes are definitely not accurate in my experience. I will say that when I read/listen to them I try to apply something positive from the reading to my daily life. I engage in a deeper thought process and practice mindfulness throughout the day, keeping that positive focus within my mind on the positive message I am supposed to be implementing into my day. I have also found that compatibility readings have been somewhat inaccurate as far as certain zodiac signs getting along or not getting along with other zodiac signs. The biggest obvious red flag for me is how many different sources there are. And guess what? They all say something different on the daily. If zodiac signs and horoscopes are supposed to be accurate, then why don’t all individuals who report them online all say the same thing - or at least something similar?? To play devil's advocate here, I did say earlier that I believe there is some truth to all of this, which is why it interests me so much and also why I believe in this stuff to a degree. There is a lot of magical and wondrous history to unpack in regards to the zodiac and horoscopes. So, let’s jump right in, shall we?
Interesting fact: the word zodiac is derived from Greek terminology meaning “circle of little animals.” We’re a circle of little animals - cute visuals there, eh? Hieroglyphs in Egypt dating as early as the 14th century BC were found to contain a circle of decans (constellations) depicting something that looks a lot like the constellations and zodiac symbols that we know today. In total there were 36 decans found within the temple.
During the first half of the first millennium, Babylonian astronomers created our modern zodiac. They also mapped the previous constellations that were seen in the Egyptian hieroglyphs but continued to add more as they were discovered. In the last half of the 5th century, the Babylonian astronomers divided the many constellations into 12 equal "signs” to represent the 12 months of the year at 30 days per month. Each sign contained 30° of celestial longitude, thus creating the first known celestial coordinate system. According to calculations by modern astrophysics, the zodiac was introduced between 409 and 398 BC and probably within a very few years of 401 BC. Unlike modern astrologers, who place the beginning of the sign of Aries at the place of the Sun at the vernal equinox, Babylonian astronomers fixed the zodiac in relation to stars, placing the beginning of Cancer at the "Rear Twin Star" (β Geminorum) and the beginning of Aquarius at the "Rear Star of the Goat-Fish" (δ Capricorni). Due to the precession of the equinoxes, the time of year the Sun is in a given constellation has changed since Babylonian times, the point of vernal equinox has moved from Aries into Pisces.
You’ll be pleasantly surprised, intrigued, or disgusted to know that all of this does have some roots within religion. The Hebrew Bible shows knowledge of the Babylonian zodiac. E. W. Bullinger noted that the drawings found in the book of Ezekiel were quite similar to the middle four quarters of the zodiac (Lion/Leo, Bull/Taurus, Man/Aquarius, Eagle/Scorpio). You read that right, Scorpio is noted as being an eagle - not a scorpion. Some say that the twelve tribes of Israel are correlated with the zodiac signs found within the Hebrew 12 month calendar. There is an argument that the position of the Israelic tribes around the Tabernacle from the book of Numbers correlates with the exact order of the zodiac, with Judah, Reuben, Ephraim, and Dan representing the middle signs of Leo, Aquarius, Taurus, and Scorpio, respectively. It is shocking how I have heard religious people in modern times talk about how this is all a bunch of garbage, even though some of this is literally correlated with items from the Bible.
To explain daily horoscopes and the connection between the stars, planets, and our zodiac signs, you must engage in a bit of math (yuck). When planets and constellations of the zodiac would align, the Babylonian astronomers of that time would note the experiences that people had and found similarities. These experiences, along with the position of the Earth, Sun, Moon, and constellations and the positions relative to the zodiac signs were stored within a catalogue. This went on for several years and is essentially what began our modern-day daily horoscope. However, it is my personal opinion that a lot of these “professionals” who have their own magical websites where you can get a free daily horoscope, just make shit up to sound interesting. That is obvious by the previously mentioned differentials found within each page. I encourage you to do a quick Google search and you’ll see what I’m talking about. This ties into the belief that the Barnum Effect is in play here. You’ll remember the Barnum Effect from last month's blog. If you haven’t read the June 2021 blog The Imaginarium of Barnum, I suggest you head there next to get a deeper understanding of what I’m talking about before you continue reading. Much of what is broadcasted in daily horoscopes, zodiac sign descriptions, and even within mediumship and tarot readings is full of extremely vague generalities. Because the information is presented in such a vague and generalized way, it then becomes an instance where anyone could apply any of the information to their life in some way. So as you can see, there is some psychological manipulation at play here. Now, I am not saying this is true for all who present the information. I will say that there are A LOT of shams out there. I have seen far more fake sites/readings/etc. than I have seen legit ones. If I had to give a percentage from my personal experience, I’d say about 85% of what I’ve seen is bullshit. But you choose what you believe at the end of the day. I just ask you to keep an open mind and a wise eye about you when scanning the web for horoscopes, zodiac information, tarot, and mediumship.
All of this information is interesting to stew on within your mind. I hope that you learned something new. I know I did when I was researching this topic for the blog. The religious ties were the most surprising thing to me. What did you find most interesting? Drop a comment under the blog on Tumblr or under the Instagram post for this month’s blog and let me know. Tonight if you are able, take a look at the stars and see if you can find the constellations. The plethora of shapes within the brightest stars are brilliant to gaze upon. Who knows, maybe you will find your zodiac constellation. Maybe you will depict a new constellation on your own by combining different combinations of stars. Or maybe you’ll see something that you can’t explain…
Cryptic Mystic Blog by PsychVVitch @psychvvitch
www.LaMorteXiii.com
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Wonder (Part 1)
Rudy Pankow x Oc!Reader
gif by → @riobeth
Wonder Series Masterlist | Wonder Playlist
Chapter summary: Rudy and Nevaeh meet in person for the first time and things aren’t awkward. Yougurt cups, bananas and ice blended in a cup and maple syrup.
Full Summary and Story Concept
Warning(s): language, shenanigans, jet laggness, social media zombies, teenage girls
Words: 5k+
A/N: This is my first attempt at a Rudy fic. My first series too! But if this flops, let's pretend it never happened, okay? :) But If you guys want to read more, please do let me know. Your love and support is the encouragement I need. I got the concept from tik tok haha. Fair warning, I am handwriting out chapters with a pen and paper before converting it digitally, so updates with be spread out. THERE WILL BE GRAMMAR MISTAKES! I'm human, and Tumblr is my test run for this series. Anywho, hope you enjoy :)
taglist
One | “Social Zombies”
In Nevaeh's opinion, airports were the worst. It wasn't due to the 38,000 feet in the air flying ride or the nothingness in the sky you see your whole flight; it was the people, the airports themselves, and the limited space.
Airports were much worse than flying - especially the San Francisco International Airport. Also known as SFO Airport. The few times, literally very few times, Nevaeh has been to the airport, she had poor experiences. Now, SFO Airport is definitely smaller than LAX and not as busy - it's a nightmare. You would think with a much smaller airport, there would be fewer crowds, but no, it's like a family reunion every day but with strangers. If you bump into the wrong person, your day on the off chance will get ruined.
Along with the busy crowds, there are many places to eat. From pizza to Italian to pie, your choices are endless. That's until half or more restaurants are closed or have long lines. Nevaeh never ate airport food, so she couldn't give her opinion on it. She'll leave that to the professional reviews. She wasn't at SFO Airport to judge the food or traffic flow, not even the staff's attitude - except she already gave a flight attendant a glare. The flight attendant took a bathroom break before their next flight and griped at Nevaeh because she used the last paper towel so they couldn't dry their hands. Air drying is a thing, and it works well, she thought to herself while leaving the restroom. She was not going to let one grumpy flight attendant ruin her great mood. She was going to meet someone who she hopes is special today.
Over the past two months, Nevaeh and this person had gotten to know each other well, virtually, that is. They met online, and Nevaeh lived in San Francisco while they lived in Alaska. Countless messages, facetime calls, photos, and videos were exchanged, and a bond was formed. Who would have thought that two people could meet through a video sharing social media app and hit it off? Most people start with dating apps, meet and get to know different people, but Nevaeh met them all because a video of hers popped up on their for you page.
Nevaeh created and shared a variety of things on the app. From cooking to creating and her little hobby of disco skating. She wanted to keep her followers and supporters entertained and herself; she didn’t want to be stuck, making the same content, so she did many things. Nevaeh thought maybe one of her disco skating, videography, or cooking videos drew them in, but it was one of her mini vlogs. In the video, she showed how she would scout places before spending the day getting footage for a short montage film or scenes for a movie she is working on. Not long after the discovery, they - he sent her a message asking about a more in-depth explanation of her process, and it went up from there.
Now, after all this time of them chatting back and forth, they get to meet. Nevaeh gets to meet him.
Standing by the arrival gate, her eyes bouncing around the room at different things just to keep her mind centered and not all over the place. She wanted to pick at her nails, or hold her hands to her chest but she couldn’t hold them in place for long; she opted for playing with the white beaded bracelet he bought and sent to her in a box full of other things. It was so sweet of him; just thinking about the box she received makes her smile and her heart swell. Just last week she received a box full of thoughtful gifts. Inside were some of her favorite snacks, a movie she loved, one of his hoodies - it was the hoodie he wore the first time they facetimed. The hoodie was one of his favorites, but he had the urge to send it to her, he just wanted her to have it. And finally was the white beaded bracelet with a single aqua blue bead on it - he had the matching one with all aqua beads and one single black bead. She was having an uncreative and pretty shitty day until that box arrived on the front door step of her shared apartment.
“I wanted to surprise you, so I messaged Birdie asking her for your favorite snacks, I added the hoodie and got the two of us distance bracelets. You know, because we are long distance.” He told her later that day when they talked on the phone.
“Until you come here, or I go there,” she replied. She hasn’t stopped wearing the hoodies since and she has had the bracelet on since the moment she got it.
Nevaeh watched different people walk past her; none of them were him yet. The dirty blond mess he sported for hair shouldn't be that hard to miss, but the longer she searched, the more she doubted her assumption.
It was another couple of minutes that went by, and she didn't see him, so she pulled her phone out to see if he had sent something. Maybe he has to catch a different flight, and he forgot to tell her, or perhaps he didn't want to meet after all. Her fingers type out a message to send, but a figure stands in front of her before she hits the send button. Nevaeh could see the shadow of their body from her peripheral vision, but she did not look up, hoping they would go away - but they didn't. Sending her message, the woman was preparing to turn away until she heard the stranger's phone go off. It's just a coincidence that their phone went off a couple of seconds after I sent a message. She said to herself, then she looked up and there he was. Dirty blond hair - a little long all over, but instead of it being in his face like it always is, it was pushed back and tucked underneath a red cap. His eyes were more lovely in person. The pair ranged from a light blue to gray, depending on the day. Today they were light blue. He sported stubble across his chin and cheeks with a blond mustache above his top lip. He wore nothing flashy, just a simple red ACDC sweatshirt, cargo shorts, and a pair of vans. He looked tired, but that didn't throw off the good vibes and smile he had going on. She couldn't help but smile back. He's here in the flesh. Rudy.
"Hi," he said light-heartedly, breaking the silence.
"Hi," she echoed; the smile on her face grew some more. "Wow, you're really here in the flesh."
He chuckled, and the sound woke up the butterflies in her stomach. "Yeah, I am. And you...the pictures and videos don't do enough justice for the actual thing." His eyes scan over her, noticing the navy blue Hilfiger sweatshirt he sent to her. Nevaeh couldn't help the dust of blush that appeared on her cheek.
“Talk about me, what about you? Who knew those Snapchat filters were hiding such a god-like person.”
“Oh, stop, you’re making me blush,” he joked while bashful. No matter online or in person, Nevaeh was still able to get him flushed; it was something he didn’t want to admit, not while he was flying blind with this.
Nevaeh smiled and had a tiny giggle; the full laugh was muffled by the hand she brought up to her mouth in an attempt to hold the sound back. He could watch her smile for a while. Is that weird? “How was your flight? I hope it wasn’t too horrible.”
“It wasn’t too bad,” he admitted. “Definitely long, but nothing a pair of earbuds, music, and a couple of movies couldn’t fix.” The two quickly began walking toward the direction of baggage claim. More of Rudy just following whichever direction Nevaeh was going. She did know the airport better anyway.
“Which movies did you watch?” she asked.
“Since I had six hours to waste - Joker, 1917 and Pride & Prejudice.”
“Oh, I see you listened to my suggestions; not surprised you watched Joker again,” Rudy shrugged his shoulders with a hum. “I’m surprised you didn’t watch the Harry Potter movies.”
Rudy rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Actually, I already watched them a couple of days ago,” Nevaeh hummed as if she were to say, ‘of course’ “You can judge me all you want. I won’t pay you any mind. Just the same as I did with the guy that had the aisle seat in my row. I guess other guys find it weird that a guy decided to watch a period drama on a flight.”
“He was just jealous he didn’t think of it first. Mr. Darcy’s pinning for Miss. Bennett and the film’s overarching theme is too good not to watch.”
“That it is, who would want to miss the warnings heeded against trusting one’s first impression or prejudices?”
“Or the character arcs that grow throughout the storyline. I pity that aisle sitting man.”
“I do too,” Rudy agreed. “He missed out on a classic and had to get up to let the other person and me out to take a tinkle.” He did it again. He made her laugh genuinely. The conversation between them flowed. The small worry Nevaeh had earlier about the two of them not being able to continue the light-hearted and enjoyable nature they had over text had diminished. He seemed just the same - goofy, charismatic, charming, and caring - as he was over the phone the past month and a half. She, too, was still kind, compassionate, and sarcastic as before. Yet both of them had their own doubts about the thing they were doing; they didn’t know what it was or where it was headed, but they were willing to find out.
In the car, Nevaeh drove the route she knew from the airport to her shared apartment. Rudy sat in the passenger seat; his gaze focused out the window, watching the San Francisco scenery appear, disappear and morph as they passed by the window. The radio played while they sat in a comfortable silence - it impressed her how easily they fell into it. Wasn't it common for an uncomfortable silence? Two people who just met for the first time should struggle in an attempt to make a conversation, but not them.
To Rudy, the comfortable silence was almost expected. Granted, he did expect one of them to talk the other's ear off - he's glad neither of them was. The six-hour flight took its effect on the man, but he wasn't going to let his fatigue ruin the time they had together. He'll rest later. Spend time with her now, sleep later.
The car rolled to a stop, a red light shined on the traffic light hanging in front of them. Rudy's eyes watch a girl across the street riding down the sidewalk on a skateboard. Her stance relaxed, feet planted in a way that helped her ride easily; she was experienced, probably skated regularly. Watching her skate triggered a longing in Rudy for his board back at home. He rides on concrete and in the snow, but he was missing snowboarding the most. It was beginning to be summer, so the temperatures in Alaska were warmer. To warm for snow but warm enough for the evergreen to take over. Now he was in California, the state that was sunny all the time. The state that thrived in the summer and its soil hardly ever to never had the chilled touch of snow. His longing grew more for the chilly weather and white flakes.
The woman sitting next to him took the next couple of seconds between the light change to look at him. Catching the moment of his gaze out the window of her jeep. "I know you're probably tired from your flight. I had some ideas about the things we could do, but we don't have to do anything today." She spoke and after, glanced at the traffic light only to see it was still red.
Rudy tore his gaze from the distant image of the skater and met Nevaeh's. "I am, but if you want to do something, we can. I'm more than happy to hang out." He said.
Trying to reason, she said, "I know, but you just got off a six-hour flight."
"Nevaeh, it's fine. I'm not that burned out. Time zones are an hour apart, and seven am isn't that bad." she begins to give him a skeptical look. She heard his words but feels as if he was only saying that to make her happy. He sat by her, leaned back, and relaxed. His head sat lazily against the headrest, and the smile he was giving her was light but tiresome. She switched her gaze from him to the traffic light, which turned green, and she didn't know when. Nevaeh eased her foot off the brake and to the gas pedal. "Seriously, we can do something."
“Fine,” She says after a moment. “I won’t wear you out too much more.” Flicking her left turn signal on after checking her mirror, she merges into the lane beside her. “There’s somewhere I wanna take you - well, maybe two places, but we’re going to the apartment first.”
“Alright, sounds good to me.” Nevaeh drove them to the apartment she shared with her long term friend. Rudy followed behind her as she led the way; they only spent a few minutes there. After a short tour, a bathroom break, and dropping off a couple of suitcases later, Rudy and Nevaeh left the place. They began a walk along the San Francisco hills to the mysterious place Nevaeh had in mind.
“This place is somewhere I walk to every other day. It’s Birdie’s and my favorite place.” It was a short six to eight-minute walk. Nevaeh reassured him before briefly going into a conversation about the impressive things you see in the city. Just like Nevaeh told him, they both come up upon a corner shop with a couple of large windows to see inside and out, a brown exterior with outside tables with green umbrellas and foldable outdoor chairs. The corner shop was known as the Nasik Cafe. For a small cafe, the place was doing well. There were a handful of people inside sitting, chatting, or ordering and quite a few sitting outside.
“This place is pretty health-oriented, and like Starbucks, it has things you could make at home for free, but their stuff is great,” Nevaeh explained to the man.
"So you spend way too much on yogurt cups, fruit drinks, toast, and other food you can make at home?" She nods her head like it was evident at what he said. Rudy shook his head. "Couldn't you just spend ten dollars on a yogurt cup?"
"Oh my goodness, they don't have yogurt cups, Rudy." She shook her head in disbelief.
"Okay, so ten dollars for a banana blended with ice in a cup - still sounds ridiculous to me."
"I can't with you," She tilted her head back, but she wasn't annoyed. She found his witticism amusing. At this rate, Nevaeh should prepare to always smile all the time around him. "You should find a table out here, and I can grab us something - wait, do you want to sit out here?"
Rudy nodded, then began to scan the area but only briefly seeing a couple of empty tables. "Yeah, it's nice out, let's enjoy it. Out here is great."
"Great," she says, pleased. "I'll grab something; I wanna surprise you. I'll be back." Nevaeh turns to walk inside. The smell of strawberries, oranges, and granola invaded her nose. It wasn't a new smell to her, but a new one for the day. She would always smell fruit and granola wherever she would walk into Basik. Some days it smelt like bananas and chocolate, or honey, peanut butter, and coconut. The smells varied, but the most prominent one was the tropical smell. To her left at a table was a couple enjoying smoothies. Both cops were a little under half full. A person sat at another table, invested in their laptop. To her right, more people sat. Art adorns the walls as realism paintings along with abstract images. There was a line at the counter; no more than four people stood waiting. She took the time to look up at the big and wide wood board hanging from the ceiling. When Nevaeh told Rudy she wanted to surprise him with something, she knew what she was getting for the both of them. The colorful and fruitful acai bowls.
Nevaeh and her roommate Birdie loved acai bowls. Birdie was the one to introduce her friend to the fantastic bowls she grew to love. Now it was her turn to turn another friend onto them.
The line moved along smoothly and grew smaller by the minutes. Once Nevaeh got closer, her lips stretched into a grin as her eyes caught sight of the barista.
"Hi, what can I get you? Could I interest you in our new fall to-Vae! Hey." the blonde barista's mood brightened significantly when she realized she was taking Nevaeh's order. She leaned across the counter and grabbed hold of Nevaeh's hand, and laced their fingers together. "What are you doing here? I thought you had to pick up your friend." She said, then making finger quotations. The barista was her roommate, Birdie. Birdie was a full-time college student and full-time barista to get by. She was more than happy to talk to her friend now that she wasn't as busy - Nevaeh was the only person in line for now.
"I was - I did pick up my friend. No air quotes, we're friends."
"For now."
"Whatever," she rolled her eyes at the blonde. "He's here with me, just outside." Birdie looked past Nevaeh and out the window in search of this guy. Nevaeh looked around for him, too; she didn't get to see where he chose to sit. "He's...the one with the red cap, right there." She pointed out once she spotted him. Birdie hummed and squinted her eyes to get a better look, which was difficult with the angle he sat at.
"He looks nice...from here," Birdie leaned back, so her fingers could let go of Nevaeh's and tap the terminal screen as she put her friend's usual order in. While Birdie did that, Nevaeh nodded in agreement but kept her gaze on him. "Lemme guess, the usual?"
"Kilauea; everything but-"
"No pollen and extra honey." Birdie finished with assuredness and not a drop of doubt in her answer. Her friend smiled, her eyes looking to Birdie with amazement.
"You know me too well."
"Well, you order the same thing almost every time."
"Touche," she couldn't argue with that. When it came to her acai bowl, she liked the Kilauea - made with mango juice, granola, berries, papaya, honey, and acai - the best. "And water, of course - make that two." She stepped back to look over the menu. Rudy wasn't familiar with the place, and he didn't know what they served, so Nevaeh wanted to get him something he hopefully liked. She decided to go with something not too fancy - directing her attention back to her barista friend. She went ahead and finished her order. "And...let me get the Islander acai bowl." That one was made with hemp mylk, granola, banana, berries, cocoa shavings, and honey.
Birdie rang up the rest of the order for Nevaeh. After catching a glimpse at the total, Nevaeh reached in the little card pocket of her wallet and grabbed her card. Unbeknownst to her, while she was getting her card, Birdie took her name tag and gave her friend her employee discount - she got it for half the price.
“I know you’re an independent woman and paying for the first date, the least I could do is give you a discount. Just don’t tell Daniel.” She winked, and Nevaeh gave her a thumbs up with one hand, and with the other, she made a zipping and locking motion over her mouth before throwing the key.
Outside, Rudy sat at the table he picked out for the two of them while waiting. While Nevaeh ran inside to get their order, he observed the small San Francisco scenery around him. California weather was sunshine with fluffy clouds. Just about everyone was either in shorts, a tank, and a cut-off shirt or any other summer clothing that provided them some comfort in the blazing sun. He dressed just right for the weather, though in Alaska, it was more on the chill side, causing him to wear a sweatshirt while he left. Now that he was basking in the California weather, he took off the warm sweatshirt and left it at Nevaeh’s apartment.
There were other people outside along with him. A group of girls sat a few feet away at a table in front of him, trying not to giggle as they attempted to make a video. At another table, there were two guys, perhaps brothers. They were eating something colorful from a bowl - it looked like yogurt to Rudy - and having a conversation with one another.
Rudy shook his head at the drastic difference between the two tables. Maybe it was just him, but it was amazing how much the world - more specifically America- was wrapped up in technology and social media. Sure the brothers at the one table had digital watches that told them the time and lit up, catching their attention with a vibrate when a text or notification went to their phone. But at least they could carry on a conversation without having their phone in their hands. On the other hand, those girls haven’t put their phones down longer than a few seconds. After those seconds, they tap away or show the other something they thought was worthy enough to gauge a reaction out of them.
Rudy wasn't one to judge. He didn't have much right to because while watching them and waiting for Nevaeh, he had the urge to pull out his phone. It was almost like a habit, but he chooses not to feed the temptation. He wanted to enjoy the day with Nevaeh; notice the burn on his skin from the sun, get to know her, have fun, pick up on little cues she has, and find out what he likes the most about her. And though it was kind of ironic that the two of them met through social media, he hopes Nevaeh is not one of those social zombies. Then this trip would be a waste of time and effort.
Ruby pulled his sunglasses down due to the sun starting to bother his eyes. Then he also wanted to cover his eyes and focus on something else while he waited. A minute later, Nevaeh walked out of the cafe's door backward with her back pushing the door open. In her hands, she had what she ordered; he wondered what she got. Rudy briskly stood up out of his seat to help her out.
"Hey, let me help you out," he walks around the table towards her, but she only nods him off.
"I got it, you sit."
"You have all the food and drinks in your hands; it's the least I can do." he stood off to the side, not interfering but reading despite what she said. He watches her struggle a bit and almost drops the stuff. Rudy immediately reached out, but Nevaeh had already saved herself and looked at him with a smile.
"I got it, Rudy. I was just pulling your leg." He picked up on the playfulness in her eyes, which made him pull his lips into a smile matching hers; her smile is definitely contagious.
“Alright, alright,” he raised his hands, backing away and then taking his seat. Nevaeh took her seat across from him, sat everything down before passing him the items she got him. “What’d you get us?”
“Well, I don’t know if you have had this before, but it’s my go-to thing to get here. It’s an acai bowl,” Nevaeh’s eyes caught his confused expression before he tried to cover it up with an understanding. She laughed softly and explained further. “It’s like a smoothie bowl with other things in it.”
“Smoothie bowl…” he murmured more to himself, but she still heard it.
Shaking her head, she continued. “Acai palm is the main ingredient along with bananas and granola, but you can add other fruits or peanut butter and syrups. Or take things off.”
“Like maple syrup?” he asked, looking at the acai bowl she got him.
Her face begins to twist in disgust until she covers it with a shrug and looks down at her bowl, ready to dig in. “Uh, I guess if that’s what you want, then yeah.” She answered, and Rudy nodded his head and grabbed his spoon to take a taste. Before Nevaeh tasted her own, she watched Rudy, waiting for his reaction. He took a bite, letting the flavor invade his taste buds.
“Wow, this is good,” He says after swallowing. He glanced up, catching Nevaeh already looking at him. She quickly looked away and stirred her bowl.
“I’m glad you like it; it’s my second favorite one,” she peeked back up, and Rudy was still looking at her. Laughing softly to herself, then shaking her head, she takes a bite of her own, almost moaning at the taste. “I’m surprised you haven’t had one before.”
“ I have wanted to try one, but never really went with actually going out to get one.”
“Well, maybe now you will get them more often,” She says but stops herself before taking another bite. “Wait...you aren’t allergic to any fruit, are you? Or granola?”
He lifted a brow while getting another scoop. “Oh, only bananas,” He replies. Nevaeh watches him as he lifts the spoon to his mouth and takes another bite that includes bananas before she could reach across the table and stop him in time. “What?” he looked at her. Her eyes were wide with shock and fear, her mouth opening to say something but closed when nothing came out. “Is there something wrong?”
Nodding her head slowly, she sat down her spoon and reached for her phone in her pocket just in case. "You ate a banana, and you just told me you were allergic to them." Nevaeh wanted to yell at him for being so careless, but that would mean she was too for not asking before ordering something random for him. She pretended to remain calm but was internally panicking.
"I actually eat them all the time," he held back the smile easing its way into his features. "I eat them quite often. They're a great source of potassium and vitamin C."
"So you aren't allergic to bananas?" she noted, and Rudy shook his head. His mouth broke out into the smile he managed to hold back for a few seconds. Nevaeh relaxed a bit, her shoulders dropping as she was no longer tense. "You're an asshole, you know that, right?" Rudy gasped softly, a hand placed on his chest as he looked at her, offended at her comment.
"What, me, an asshole? That can't be right, I'm really nice," he said and made Nevaeh huffed. "What do you not believe me?"
The woman shrugged, the smile still on her face when she looked down at her food. "Well, you did play a mean joke just now; I thought I almost killed you." She reminded him and picked at her bowl.
"I wanted to see how caring you were, and you passed the test. Now you love me, don't you?"
"You wish," she said, taking a bite then pointing at him with her spoon. "We're going on a road trip together, let's see if I survive that, then I'll let you know if I like you enough to be your friend or jump out of a moving car because you're an annoying little shit."
Rudy raised his eyebrows, smirking at her now. "Me being an annoying little...alright. Let's make a deal," he starts; Nevaeh gestures for him to continue. "If you survive this road trip, meaning - if you have a great time - I get to take you to my home town in Alaska. Ah, ah. I'm not finished." he held his finger up to stop her from making a comment. She rolled her eyes and sat back in her chair, attempting to hide a simple, but you could see the amusement on her face. "If you don't have a great time, I'll do whatever you want."
"So, If I understand right, If you win, you get to take me to Alaska - assuming I haven't been there already,"
“Wait, you’ve been to Alaska?” Nevaeh held her finger up, echoing his movements moments before.
“If you win, you take me to Alaska, and if I win, you do whatever I want, correct?”
“Yeah, as long as it’s not too inappropriate or impossible,” He says, already finished with his acai bowl, which Nevaeh didn’t remember seeing him eat the rest. It didn’t matter when he ate it, she didn’t care, but that was quick. Looking down at her own, she wasn’t more than halfway done. “So, so we have a deal?”
Nevaeh looked up from her food, meeting his ocean-like eyes. The pair were becoming more familiar over the past few weeks from countless photos and videos the two have shared over Snapchat. Messages over text and facetime calls. They got to know each other digitally, and now they have to learn more in person.
“We have a deal.” She says, and Rudy sticks his hand out, which she gladly took. They shook hands. While doing so, Rudy thought of a million possibilities to get the woman across from him to a great time and not just so he could take her to Alaska, his home. He found her intriguing, and he wants to take the time to get to know her better and maybe have a solid standing friendship at the end of it all. If the cosmos had a say, perhaps something more would blossom.
➣ End Note:
So, I honestly don’t know how the next few or future chapters will go but hopefully they turn out well. Here are the Revaeh interactions we all needed and plenty more to come so just you wait. ;)
AGAIN IF YOU WANT ME TO CONTINUE THE SERIES I WILL, JUST LET ME KNOW.
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#rudy pankow#rudy pankow x reader#rudy pankow x oc#rudy pankow series#rudy pankow fanfiction#wonder series#rudy pankow au#Outer Banks#outer banks netflix#roadtrip story#tik tok dating
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Verboten 14 | (T)
ff.net | AO3
Fandom: Danny Phantom (DP)
Summary: AU. When Danny was five years old, he went missing for 2 weeks. In the years that follow, his family tried to make sense of what happened, only for the truth to be discovered years later.
Warnings: rated T for violence, mentions of death, language. Be prepared for some very weird things
Chapter warning: being attacked at home
Parings: Danny/Sam
Notes: originally uploaded to Ff.net. Cross-posted to AO3 and tumblr. This fic is very heavily inspired by folklore surrounding mysterious wilderness disappearances
Chapter 14
“Well, at least we know your parents could hire him to clean their ceilings if he stays stuck up there.”
“You’re not helping, Tucker,” Danny snapped at him from his spot on the ceiling.
More amused than surprised anymore, he just let Sam continue to try to help Danny change back to his human form while he worked on his own project. When Sam messaged him earlier that there was an issue, he hadn’t expected to walk into Sam’s room and find Danny, in all his ghostly glory, sitting cross-legged on the ceiling above Sam’s bed and having a panic attack. After taking in the absurdity of the situation, he tried for several minutes to help Sam somehow get him down. When all rescue attempts failed, mostly because Danny couldn’t seem to hold on to anything they threw at him, Sam moved to a different tactic. She hoped getting him to relax would somehow help.
Since that wasn’t his forte, Tucker decided his way of helping would be to finish reviewing the information he got from Plasmius while making comments about his friend’s predicament. Although he knew the digs annoyed Danny and Sam, he needed to do it for his own sanity.
Up until this point, Tucker really hadn’t registered the paranormal as being truly real. Sure, they did get abducted by a crazed ghost and then attacked by an even crazier ghost, but the more time passed without a ghostly incident, he had almost rationalized it as some stress induced hallucination. Almost being the key word. He knew his best friend had been fundamentally changed by the event, but other than the freak out at school and his now permanently chilly skin, Danny hadn’t done anything ghostly until now. Speaking of which…
“How exactly did you end up like this?” he questioned moments before Danny finally fell from the ceiling and landed face first on Sam’s bed. “You okay, dude?”
“More okay then I was when I was stuck on the ceiling,” he sighed as moved himself to the edge of the bed. His unnatural green eyes scanned the room as if searching for something. “I’m like this because of Plasmius.”
“Wait, wait? That’s a pretty big thing to neglect to mention.”
“I’m sorry I got distracted by discovering I was walking around in my ghost form or whatever you want to call it.”
“Don’t antagonize him, Tucker. That seems to make things worse,” Sam scolded as she pointed at Danny, who started to float again. “See? But that is pretty important.”
Danny huffed as he experimentally shifted, making it look like he was just lying on his stomach… in mid-air. Seemingly alright with the position, probably because he was only about a foot above the bed, he continued. “Look, I was planning on immediately telling you guys as soon as Tucker arrived, but I panicked when I realized I couldn’t change back. But since that doesn’t seem to want to change any time soon, I guess I just explain what happened.”
Once Danny was done, Tucker let out a whistle. “That’s some story. Glad he let you go, but it’s really creepy that he can just pluck you into that other world when he wants.”
“Why was he here in the first place?” Sam asked as she worked up enough courage to sit near where Danny was still floating. “That’s what’s bugging me about it. Was he just really here for information?”
“That’s what I don’t get either. Whoa! I’d like it if my body would make up… its mind?” As Danny fell onto the bed once again, a blinding light suddenly washed over him. Once it faded, he was back in his human form. “Well, at least that fixes that problem for now.”
Deciding not to comment on his friend’s obvious relief, Tucker somewhat changed the direction of the conversation. “At least Plasmius confirmed he’s interested in Vlad Master’s companies for something nefarious. Most of what I’ve gotten so far on that data are files on different employees.”
Danny’s eyes lit up at the statement. “Oh, I forgot to tell you. Vlad’s in town.”
“That’s convenient,” Sam dryly stated after she shared a look with Tucker. “Why’s he here?”
“Apparently, when my parents asked him for help getting some information, he decided he needed to be directly involved. He was visiting when I got up.” He glanced down and wrung his hands before adding, “But he seemed really off today.”
“Off how?”
“He gave me literal chills. I mean, if I think about it, that’s happened when ghosts were around, but not people. He also seemed off… like he was a different person.”
Unnerved, Tucker placed his PDA on Sam’s desk. “I hate to bring this up, but didn’t you say that thing that attacked you was able to change how it looked?”
Danny’s eyes widened briefly before he shook his head. “I… I don’t think that’s it. It was close, but there was still something off about how it looked. It also didn’t feel the same… the chill was different. Vlad felt… Vlad felt like Plasmius but not as strong? I don’t know how to explain it.”
“You mentioned that chill before when you freaked out because of Maura… do you think you can sense other ghosts now?” Tucker felt himself grin despite the situation. “I mean, cuz if you can, that’s really useful. I’d like to be able to stay on the complete other side of the city from where that creepy thing is.”
“Maybe? I certainly didn’t notice anything like it when we were trapped or escaping from Plasmius… but he did say something about how that’s possible.” A thoughtful expression briefly crossed his face, until he gave a wry grin. “Fat load of good it does if it only goes off when something is like ten feet away.”
“Darn. Well, still let me know if you notice anything else weird. I’d like a head start over anything that might harm these good looks.”
xxx
After their initial discussion of what happened, the rest of the time was spent seeing if Danny could get any sort of control over his ghost form. It took a while, but he did manage to find the preverbal trigger for the change. Via a couple hours under Sam’s Spartan-equse training, he was finally able to change to and from on command. While he hoped he’d have a chance to work on more of his abilities, it was definitely a success.’
Around dinner, he and Tucker left Sam’s and headed to their own respective houses. While his parents were relieved to see him before sundown, he couldn’t return the feeling. Vlad was still in the house. According to his parents, the businessman would be staying with them in the guest room for a while.
“A while? How long’s a ‘while’?” he questioned as he looked for something to drink in the fridge.
“Well, that’s up to Vlad,” his mother replied as she added a few shakes of something to what smelled like stew. Vlad and his father were still in the lab. “While he’s not entirely certain how long he will be able to remain away from his businesses, he’s hoping to be able to stay for a couple weeks.”
Unhappy with that answer, Danny grabbed his drink and disappeared into his bedroom. If he was honest, he wanted to practice more with his abilities. It would be a shame not to with how much progress he made earlier, but he wasn’t exactly certain what tools his dad and Vlad might be using. Some of them where supposedly able to detect differences in energy levels. Without knowing the specifics of his abilities, he really didn’t want to clue them in.
Actually, was he ever going to tell his parents? That was a good question. Right now, when he didn’t have much control or understanding over anything, it didn’t seem like a good idea. Perhaps down the road? Maybe. Actually, maybe they might have so information regarding what happened to him.
A little later, his parents called him down for dinner. For him, it was a relatively normal affair, save for the chills Vlad kept giving him. Seriously, what was up with that? Vlad had been a fixture in his life for years, and there was never an issue before. Maybe Plasmius somehow influenced him or something? He guessed it was possible. There were legends about ghosts doing stuff like that, but he had no idea how to even begin figuring that out.
After dinner, he once again retreated to his room. Frustrated, he decided a few hours of Doomed would be a good distraction from everything.
…
Right around three am, something woke Danny. Rubbing his eyes, he realized he fell asleep gaming. Stretching, he turned off the game before checking one of his drawers for clean pjs. Deciding it wasn’t worth it, he headed to his bed only to stop when his breath misted in front of him.
Now wide awake, he stopped and listened. There were the normal sounds of the furnace and his dad’s snores. Wait, the furnace? Then why could he see his breath a moment ago? Spooked, he opened his door as quietly as possible and stuck his head out into the hallway.
Nothing seemed out of place. No one was in the hall. There was no light from his parents’ room or the spare bedroom Vlad was using. Deciding something still didn’t seem right, he crept down the hall and peaked down the stairs.
Eyes, dark eyes with a faint red glow, peaked out at him from the darkness of the living room. Knowing whatever it was saw him, he panicked and ran towards his parents’ room. “Mom! Dad! There’s something in the house!” he yelled as he frantically beat on the locked door. Of course it was one of those nights.
“Oh my god, what is that thing?” Vlad’s voice and the growl that followed forced his attention to the staircase. The sickly gray color of its skin made it somehow stand out in the shadows. The creature, the same one Danny encountered in the alleyway, stood in all its horrible glory at the top of the stairs. Its face was twisted in a grotesque snarl, and it swayed slightly. With an uneasy jolt, Danny realized the thing seemed to be debating who to go after first.
At the sound of the lock on his parents’ door turning, the thing lunged forward. Danny barely had time to register his mother pulling him into the room while his father roared, “Eat this!”
The familiar whine of one of his parents’ blasters powering up was followed by a blinding green blast and then another. As his parents decided to chase the thing, he curled up behind the door. The sounds of the blasts and something else, something unnatural, crashing into furniture could be heard from the downstairs.
How did that thing get in the house? Better yet, how did it find him? It was his fault. He needed to help, but what could he do? He had no ability to fight against it. Heck, he still didn’t know what it was other than dangerous and evil.
When the sounds in the downstairs stopped, he held his breath and waited. A sigh of relief escaped him when his mother called for him and Vlad. Not caring he was a teenager and by default hated hugs from family members, raced to his mother’s side and embraced her. Understanding he was frightened, she rubbed his back and reassured him she was fine.
“Sorry to interrupt,” the light snapped on to reveal blast marks, destroyed furniture, and Vlad appraising the scene from the bottom step, “but what exactly was that thing? Should I contact the police?”
Embarrassed someone saw him, Danny quickly let go and retreated a few steps. His mother smiled at him before replying, “It’s already been taken care of.” She pointed to what Danny recognized as the button of one of the alarm systems; it was flashing. “Jack’s checking the perimeter to make sure that thing is gone. In the meantime, I’m going to make us hot chocolate.”
“But what if that thing comes back? Surely Jack wouldn’t just leave you alone.”
She flashed him a grin as she held up a miniature blaster. “Thank you for being concerned, but I’m actually the better shot between the two of us.”
After glancing at Vlad, who seemed both dumbfounded and proud, Danny hurried into the kitchen after his mother. He really didn’t want to leave her side if that thing came back.
“Danny,” his mother stated after they were seated at the kitchen table with hot chocolate in hand, “be honest with me, was that the same thing you saw in the alleyway?”
He took a sip of his drink before answering her. “I… I think so. I mean, I’m not exactly sure if it was the same thing or not, but it looked similar.”
“You’re telling me that’s the thing you’re researching?” Vlad sounded surprised, but Danny noticed how tightly he gripped his mug. Why did he seem angry? “That thing was an abomination.”
His mother nodded. “While there are some stories regarding things like that in folklore, most of the recent ones seem to be more fiction than fact, so Jack and I tended to disregard them.” She sent him an apologetic smile, “However, with Danny’s report, we decided to look into it and didn’t like what we found. That’s why we reached out because we needed to get the resources to verify the data.”
“What do you mean you didn’t like what you found?” His whole body felt icy again, but this time, it seemed to be from fear and not some paranormal creature.
“I want to verify something with the officers,” she glanced at the clock on the wall before muttering, “when they finally get here first. However, if Jack didn’t manage to get it, I’m not sure if it’ll come back or not. We definitely wounded it,” she pointed to a spot in the living room where something wet, dark, and faintly glowing could be seen, “but I don’t know if that was enough to ward it off or if it’s vengeful enough to return.”
“But why was it here?”
“If I may?” Vlad glanced at his mother, who nodded. “If it was in fact the same creature Daniel saw, it may have come for him, or, it simply could have been drawn to the house. Forgive me, but you do have a lot of ectoplasm and other potential energy sources on hand.”
“Hmm… we have been meaning to update our storage devices. That can easily be done, but if Danny is a target, that would be much harder to fix.” His mother reached out and gently put her hand on his. “Sweetie, don’t take this the wrong way, but your father and I are worried you might have been changed because of your disappearances.”
That was putting it lightly, he ruefully thought. However, instead of agreeing, he asked her to explain what she meant.
“Well, you know we theorized you temporarily slipped into a different dimension when you were younger? It’s possible that somehow altered you. Pass reports of those ‘spirited away’ often report the person was somehow changed. Since before you seemed fine, save for the times we caught you staring as if you saw something we couldn’t, we figured you may have developed a sensitivity to the paranormal.”
He nodded. That made sense. Although, he was embarrassed his parents picked up on how he sometimes saw those shadows. Apparently he didn’t do nearly as good of a job as he thought at keeping that a secret.
His mother bit her lip before continuing. “But, this past time… something changed. I know you told the police you were abducted by a person, but the complete disappearance and then reappearance… and that none of you who disappeared could be tracked… and the injuries… and how that poor boy was found… it never made sense it was a human. And when you came back, the changes in your vitals, we knew there was something more to it. You don’t have to tell me anything if you’re not ready,” she added when she noticed his panicked expression, “but whatever changed might have made you something like beacon to creatures of other worlds.”
His mouth felt dry. His parents actually suspected there was something off about him, and they just accepted it? Should he tell them how much he really changed? No, Vlad was in the house. He didn’t need to know anything about it. However, he could start probing for some of the answers he wanted. “If… if I have changed, how…?”
“We’re not exactly sure what will happen in the long run,” she replied as she picked up on his train of questioning. “Old accounts vary, and it’s difficult distinguishing fact and legend. Anyways, Danny I just want to verify the thing that attacked us tonight and whoever abducted you on the camping trip are not the same thing.”
He violently shook his head. “No, they’re completely different…”He debated with himself for a moment. Should he tell her about Plasmius appearing? Or the thing Clockwork discovered? Or the horde that attacked Sam, Tucker, and their classmates on the way back? “At least, whoever took me, Sam, and Tucker was completely different. I don’t know what grabbed the others.” That was true enough.
Vlad remained unusually quiet during the exchange, but unlike other times where he seemed disinterested or involved, this time it seemed like he was mulling over something. Also, Danny hadn’t missed the way his eyes narrowed when he added on the information about the camping abduction.
A knock at the door spooked everyone. They turned to see his dad opening the door followed by a couple police officers. “I found the police!” he said with a grin. “They thought it was another false alarm.”
“False alarm? False alarm?” His mother stood and marched over to the officers who were taking stock of the damage with wide eyes. “My family gets attacked, and you have the nerve to think it was a false alarm? If my husband and I didn’t have the means to defend ourselves, we would have been killed!”
Danny just sighed and continued sipping his drink as he watched his mother scold the officers. His dad joined him. Both of them knew it was better to let her get it out of her system than to try to get involved. Besides, he’d probably never get to see police officers get chewed out like that ever again. Now if only he had some popcorn.
====
Note: if it hadn’t been implied earlier, Maddie and Jack are going to be involved/decent parents in this fic. It makes sense with how this story is laid out – their son has gone mysteriously missing 3 times. They try to keep an eye on him.
#Verboten#danny phantom#danny phantom au#dp#dp au#danny fenton#alternative universe#sam manson#tucker foley#jack fenton#maddie fenton#vlad masters#fanfic#fanfiction#my writing#paranormal#supernatural#fantasy#folklore#so i heard you like folklore#sooooooooo much folklore
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Chapters: 2/? Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Sasha James, Rosie Zampano Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Fix-It, Post-Canon Fix-It, Scars, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, I'll add characters and tags as they come up, Reference to injuries and blood
Chapter Summary: Jon and Martin have somehow found themselves back at the Magnus Institute, with Tim and Sasha and some complications.
Read at AO3 above or read here below the cut!
Chapter 1 on Tumblr here.
“Martin.” Jon’s whispered caution was unnecessary; Martin realized right after he did it that saying Tim’s name might not have been the best idea. They really knew nothing about this place, or who this man actually was. It didn’t seem to have fazed the man that looked like Tim, though. Or maybe he just hadn’t heard it.
“Where have you two been? And why are you out here? And… fuck, that’s a lot of blood.” The color drained from his face. “Is it—is it your blood? Oh shit. I’m—I’m calling an ambulance.”
He grabbed his phone.
“No.” Jon managed to push past Martin to sit up for the first time since they’d been here. “No. We’re fine.”
“Jesus, I don’t know how you could be unless—unless it’s not your blood?” The man who was maybe Tim didn’t seem particularly ready to put his phone away. “Please tell me you didn’t kill someone.”
“No.” Jon shot a warning glance at Martin, who hadn’t actually considered arguing semantics at that moment. “It—it is mine. And… a bit of his.”
Martin started.
“You haven’t seen yourself,” Jon said quietly.
I guess not.
Maybe-Tim finally decided that he wasn’t going to call anyone, at least for the moment. “Can you—can you get up? I mean—you should—you should probably come inside, at least.”
With a small nod from Jon, Martin accepted help standing up, and found he was much steadier on his feet than he would have guessed.
As he helped Jon up in turn, Jon leaned into him. “Don’t say anything you don’t have to. I know—I know how this feels, but—”
“Yeah, I got it,” Martin answered. “I’m sorry I—”
“It’s all right.”
Maybe-Tim didn’t even notice their exchange; his attention was on his phone again. “I’m messaging Sasha. I’m… I don’t even know what to tell her. I’m just telling her to meet me in her office. Are you—are you really sure you don’t need to go to the hospital?”
He definitely just said he was messaging Sasha.
“Jon—"
“It’s fine.” Martin couldn’t tell if Jon was responding to him or simply answering the question, but it sufficed for both. “Let’s go.”
***
Walking into the Magnus Institute was unnerving in a way that Martin wasn’t prepared for. Yes, he had just lived through a fear apocalypse, but that was part of the issue. Every domain they had encountered had been its own nightmare, in one sense or another. Fears had been isolated and then amplified, exaggerated to the point where they couldn’t be mistaken for anything other than what they were: pieces of a literal hellscape. He had grown accustomed to knowing that no matter what unimaginably terrifying thing he had just seen, the next thing would be worse.
Here, there was just something off, something subtle, and subtlety wasn’t his specialty right now. This, well, it was the Institute, and also it wasn’t. Sure, there were some physical differences—a paint color that didn’t seem quite right, a sign indicating that the Office of Research was located on the third floor instead of the second—but those things didn’t make it not the Institute. Martin had worked there for enough of his life to see those kinds of things change before. That wasn’t what was getting to him.
It was the feel of the place. The feel was different somehow, but he couldn’t sort out in his own head exactly what he meant by that—he couldn’t even be sure it was true, or if it was maybe how it had been in their world too, and it was merely his memory of it that had been rewritten.
They followed Tim down the stairs to the archive. Martin had given up trying to think of him as anyone other than Tim. It wasn’t just his face, or his voice as he rambled about what a mess they were; it was the way he walked, what he did with his hands as he talked, his whole demeanor.
As they entered the reception area, Martin heard another familiar voice—he recognized Rosie’s practiced, cheery-but-professional tone immediately. He’d been overhearing it for years; it had become part of the general background noise of working in the archive for him. There was even something uplifting about it, given that the last time he’d seen her was passing her on the stairs on his way up that tower, with that ever-sinking feeling in his gut. She’d seen him too; they hadn’t spoken to each other.
Unfortunately, the feeling wasn’t mutual. She was startled enough when she saw them that the handset she was speaking into clattered to the desk.
“Oh.” She stood up. “Is—is everything ok? Do you need me to call someone?”
“I guess not,” Tim answered. “Look, we’re going to talk to Sasha and then—I don’t know.”
“Oh. Well… Ms. James is in her office. Please let me know if I can do anything?” Rosie seemed more upset than Tim, and Martin started to really understand what he and Jon must look like to—well, people. He had to admit, Jon did look pretty bad, and he had no idea what state he was in. He didn’t realize he had stopped walking until he felt Jon tug at his arm.
“S—sorry.” He couldn’t help but apologize to Rosie, who continued to stare after them as they entered the archival assistants’ office.
Martin was again struck by that peculiar mixture of recognition and unfamiliarity. So much in this office felt like he remembered it—his desk even had the same odd-colored back leg it always had. He recognized Tim’s desk too, almost exactly like it used to be, before Peter Lukas insisted Martin clean it out himself. It had been a relatively successful tactic for making sure he never wanted to go in there again.
And then there was Jon’s desk.
A wave of vertigo hit him, strong enough that he had to squeeze his eyes shut to fight it. Of course, Jon’s desk had not been in the assistants’ office—that was a simple fact—yet somewhere in his mind, it was almost like he remembered this version of things too, that this was the way it had always been.
When he was able to open his eyes again, he found that both Tim and Jon had stopped to look at him.
“Sorry. Something just—never mind. I’m fine.”
He looked at the head archivist’s office, which stood at the other end of this one, and the name painted across the frosted glass very clearly read Sasha James.
***
The four of them sat around the circular desk in the assistants’ office in an uncomfortable silence. After Sasha’s initial shock had worn off, and Jon had insisted yet again that they did not need to go to the hospital, she had asked Rosie to make them tea. That was the one positive point; at that moment, it felt like maybe the best tea Martin had ever had.
Tim finally spoke. “So… any chance of you telling us what the hell is going on?”
“Tim,” Sasha scolded. “Clearly, whatever happened, it’s not easy for them to talk about.”
“Well, it’s not easy for me to not talk about.”
Martin felt bad. “Sorry, it’s just—”
“It’s complicated.” Jon cut him off again.
“And are we also not going to talk about this?” Tim motioned toward their hands, which they held together on the table without thinking. Martin immediately moved to pull his hand away, but Jon tightened his grip with a firm never mind.
He left his hand where it was.
“Tim.” Sasha turned to face him. “They disappear for two months, we can’t find any trace of them, they turn up covered in blood and—well, not to mention all of the—the weirdness that’s been happening in the meantime, and that’s what you want to talk about? Really.”
Martin glanced sideways at Jon. Gone for two months—what did that mean?
“Yes! Yes, it is. You can’t tell me you don’t want to know.”
“Tim, I just think—” Sasha sighed and shook her head before turning back to Jon and Martin. “Are you really sure you’re ok? I mean, we—looked for you, we tried reporting you missing. We even had an officer come out here—what was her name, Tim? You had her card last.”
“Alice Tonner,” Tim replied.
Martin squeezed Jon’s hand.
“Right, her partner called her something else, though… Anyway, the thing is, they didn’t seem very interested. Like… she asked if we’d been in touch with your families or anything, and well, obviously we hadn’t, and she just said something about people picking up and moving all the time, and—well, I don’t think they even bothered filing an official report. They said they’d check in again, but we never heard from them. We even tried calling them a couple of times, I left messages, but they never got back to us. I mean, I’m sure they’ve been busy, but—”
“What do you mean, they’ve been busy?” Jon asked. Martin was surprised Jon would venture a question.
“Well…” Sasha seemed to consider whether she should continue, but she did. “The thing is, since you’ve been gone, some odd things have been happening. Not like, on the news or anything, just to people. We’ve even had a few come here, to the Institute, wanting to talk to someone about—well, what they think has happened to them. I guess we have a kind of reputation. But of course, no one knows what to do with them, so they send them down to the archives—and I mean, I do talk to them, I guess? Take some notes? But that’s not really—”
In the middle of her explanation, Martin suddenly noticed how tired he had become; he was exhausted. Interestingly, it wasn’t entirely unfamiliar, because it was the exact thing he and Jon had experienced when they first arrived at Upton House. It made sense, he supposed—after all, they hadn’t really been sleeping, however long they had been here—but the fact that it made sense didn’t help him go back and prepare for it.
He heard a commotion, the sound of chairs being shoved from the table, felt hands and arms helping him to lie down on something. Somewhere, amid the rest of the noise, just before he lost consciousness, he heard Jon insisting again that they were ok, that Martin just needed sleep. He knew Jon wasn’t talking to him, but it helped.
***
Hours later, Martin woke. He was still horribly tired, he could barely open his eyes, but once he realized Jon wasn’t nearby he wouldn’t let himself go back to sleep.
As he forced himself into wakefulness, the first thing that really came into focus was the sofa. He had been sleeping on a sofa, which hadn’t been a fixture in the assistants’ office where they came from—yet he remembered it had been in that office, briefly. Tim had brought it in with a friend one day, early on, claiming they needed somewhere a bit more “welcoming” when patrons came to visit the archive. Frankly, Martin had agreed with him, although he wasn’t sure he’d wanted to know all of Tim’s plans for it. The chairs in the office were particularly stiff, and although it wasn’t exactly Tim’s point, he could have used a comfortable spot to take the occasional break. Of course, Jon had immediately insisted it was unprofessional, and when Elias—Jonah—had backed him up, Tim and his friend had grudgingly hauled it back out again a few days later.
Here, though, Sasha had approved, with the caveat that it needed a new cover. Tim had happily obliged, and of course, Jon had ended up using it more than anyone, thanks to his insistence on keeping late hours when—
Wait, what?
He tried to remember more, but Martin now found it impossible to recall. It was strange, just moments ago he’d had such a clear picture of Jon—
Jon.
He sat up to find Tim at his desk, already looking at him.
“You all right?” Tim asked.
“I’m—yeah, I think so. Just tired.”
“I really can’t believe we haven’t called someone, Martin, you two—”
“Where’s Jon?”
“What?”
Where’s Jon?”
Tim gave him an odd look. “He’s in Sasha’s office. As soon as we got you on the couch he passed out. We managed to haul him in there and bring in that old cot from the back room.”
“Can I see him?”
Tim shrugged. “I suppose.”
Martin was relieved to find Jon sleeping peacefully on the cot when they entered, quiet, still. Breathing. His eyes were closed for the first time since—well, since the first few nights they had spent together in Scotland.
“Has he… has he been sleeping like this?” he asked, glancing as Sasha.
“Like what?” she asked.
“Like… normal.”
“I think so,” she said. “I haven’t noticed anything.”
Martin nodded, fighting a sudden surge of emotions too complicated to identify.
“Are you all right?” Sasha asked.
“Yeah, I’m all right,” Martin lied, before thinking of a second, slightly more truthful answer. “Actually I’m—I’m kind of hungry.”
Fortunately, Sasha kept extra food in her office, just in case she had to stay late; unfortunately, at the moment it just happened to be canned peaches. Martin briefly considered holding out for something else, but the empty pit in his stomach disagreed with that idea. Instead, he went with option two, getting it over with—and by the time Sasha had found a spoon for him he’d already downed half the can.
“Well,” said Tim, “that looked extremely unpleasant. In several ways, actually.”
“Sorry.”
Martin was just starting to worry about what he was going to say to fill the time when Jon stirred on the cot behind him. Martin wordlessly handed him what was left of the can of peaches. Jon was obviously disoriented, but ate readily enough after Martin got the spoon from Sasha for him. They watched him in silence for a moment, until Tim snapped his fingers suddenly enough to make Martin jump.
“I forgot, I—hang on.” He disappeared into the assistants’ office, and came back with a couple heavy plastic bags looped over his arms. “We’ve been keeping these in the back. It’s the clothes you left here. The police weren’t interested in them. Thought maybe you’d want to change? You do look a bit…”
Martin knew he was pushing it a little bit, but he asked anyway. “What do you mean, the clothes we left here?”
“They were just… there,” Tim answered. “On the floor in the office. Thought maybe you were pulling some sort of prank for a bit, but then of course you didn’t turn up.”
Martin looked at Jon, who paused mid-mouthful. He’d forgotten about that little complication, the Jon and Martin who had apparently disappeared from this place. The longer he thought about it, the more uncomfortable it made him. Jon swallowed and set down the can, which Martin noticed he hadn’t finished. “I think… I think we will get changed.”
Tim handed them the bags and waved toward the empty assistants’ office. “All yours.”
As they dumped the clothes out on the floor, they could hear Tim and Sasha speaking in low voices next door. Martin couldn’t make out what they were saying, although it was clear Tim was very unhappy—but at least it seemed reasonable to assume no one would be able to hear them, either.
“Jon,” Martin said after a moment, “do you think we—I mean, the Jon and Martin that—”
“Don’t think about it.” Jon was already halfway out of the clothes he’d been wearing. “Not yet. We need to get out of here. I need to—I need time. To think. And we need more rest. But not here.”
Martin couldn’t argue with that, but he also had no idea where to go. He sighed, and turned to the clothes that had been in the bag. Although he couldn’t recall if he’d owned that exact jumper, he would never have bet he didn’t. And as it turned out, the trousers fit him perfectly—he didn’t know why it surprised him. At his height, and well—general size—he’d always had a bit of trouble finding clothes that fit, so he supposed it was mostly that he didn’t want to accept they had belonged to him. A different him, that maybe no longer existed.
He sighed and turned back to Jon, half wondering why he hadn’t been hurrying him along—and found him frozen with an expression on his face that Martin would have placed somewhere between worry and surprise.
“Jon?”
“I’m—” Jon started to answer, but then stopped.
“Jon?” he prompted again.
“Look.” Jon held out his hand toward Martin, and he realized it held a set of keys.
“Are those—yours? Um, his?”
“They were in the trousers. A phone, too. But I—” Jon stopped again.
“Jon, are you—”
“I touched them and—Martin, I know where he lives.”
“What, like, know?” Martin pointed upward, a gesture he’d adopted a long time ago when referring to the Eye.
“Not like that. It’s different.”
As soon as Jon said it, Martin recalled the experience he’d had when they’d entered the assistants’ office, and also when he’d woken up on the sofa—memories from a place and time that he shouldn’t have had. “Oh.”
“We need to leave.” Jon was starting to sound a slight bit panicked, and Martin knew they really would need to find a way out soon.
“Ok, ok, but… where do we go?”
“Here,” Jon said, holding up the keys.
“Oh, Jon.” Martin felt a little sick. Those peaches weren’t sitting well.
“I know—just—don’t think about it.”
“Look, are you sure we can even get in? I mean, if they’ve been gone for two months—”
“Tim and Sasha don’t even think there was an official police report. I’ve always had my rent… I’m—I’m sure he…” Jon trailed off.
Martin didn’t like it, but Jon wasn’t looking good. He gathered up their discarded clothes and packed them into the bags, not wanting to leave anything behind. “All right. Let’s just… tell them we’re leaving, I guess.”
It went over about as well as he expected. Tim simply threw up his arms, and even Sasha lost her composure a bit. “Are you sure? I mean—you don’t seem—even if you don’t want to talk to us, you probably should really at least go see a doctor. Can we take you?”
“I’m sorry,” Martin said. “I know—I know this has been—”
“It’s been absolutely ridiculous!” Tim cut him off. “You haven’t told us anything. What were you even doing outside in the first place? Where have you been? What happened?”
“I’m—I’m really sorry,” Martin stammered.
Sasha sighed. “What should we tell Elias?”
Martin wasn’t even touching Jon, and he still felt his body go rigid behind him. Oh god.
“Please, we’ll—we’ll check in.” He had no idea if they actually would, but it was the only thing he could think of to say. His available hand found Jon without turning around as he started to back out.
“We’ll check in,” Sasha said, as Tim continued to protest.
“Are you really just going to let them—”
Martin had an arm fully around Jon now, guiding him back out of the office.
“Tim, I really don’t know what you’d have me do here. Call the police again?”
He didn’t hear Tim’s reply, and was only vaguely aware of Rosie’s concerned stare as they made their way out.
***
They were a few blocks away when Jon nearly collapsed; Martin immediately dropped the bags of clothing he was carrying to help support him.
“Hey. Hey, look at me.” Thankfully, Jon did. “You ok?”
“Martin, I don’t—I don’t think it’s Jonah.”
“Um—ok,” Martin answered.
“I don’t see how it could be. There was no—there was no mechanism here, without—it wouldn’t have worked.”
“Ok,” Martin answered again.
“But also—” Jon drew a shaky breath. “You feel it, right? That it’s—not him?”
Martin didn’t bother asking for clarification; he knew what Jon meant, although he hadn’t felt it. “I don’t know. I think—it only happens when I’m not trying.”
“Hm.” Jon was drifting again.
“Wait—wait,” Martin said. “Are you saying—are you saying actual Elias Bouchard runs the Magnus Institute?”
“Yes, I—I think so.”
“How? Why?”
“Because—because he did in our world. Sort of.”
“What does that—”
“I can’t explain it right now. I can’t—I need time. I need…” His breathing, which had slowed, was starting to pick up again.
“Ok, ok—it’s fine. Jon—you’re ok.”
“Am I?” Jon asked.
“Yes—Jon, it’s all right. Look—just get us where we’re going and I’ll—I’ll take care of you.” He shifted his grip and ran his thumb over Jon’s cheek, trying to keep him there. “I’ll take care of you. I’ll take care of you until…”
“Until what?”
“Until—until you feel better. I’ll take care of you until you feel better.”
“And what if I don’t? What if I never do? What if—”
Martin didn’t know what else to do; all he wanted right then was for some of the worry to leave Jon’s eyes. He pulled Jon close and pressed their mouths together; he held him there until he felt some of the tension leave his body. It wasn’t an answer; he knew Jon had only given up struggling against their situation for the moment, but that would have to be enough. That would have to get him to whatever was next.
“You will.”
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ok so im just gonna pick at fr from a web designer pov because looking at this site on mobile will drive me into madness if they don’t fix it at some point. The rest of this post will go under a read more because it’s both super long and image heavy.
before i hit mobile though, I’m going to point out some things i just don’t personally like in general with the site design (and yes i am conscious that they are slowly updating to a new look)
this will come as a shock to no one, if you’ve seen previous web design related posts by others anyways, but i cant. stand this menu
[ID: A cropped screenshot of Flight Rising’s Main Menu]
fr, understandably, has a shit ton of links. it’s a petsite with lore and all that, whatever. The thing that bothers me specifically is the length of links and where some are placed.
1. i BELIEVE this counts as an accessibility issue where longer links kinda trap shorter links, goes into misclicks to other pages in the site, etc. etc. 2. i don’t think. the search link should be under library personally ? Maybe make it its own category.
Dev Tracker & Media could go under this category, possibly add separate links to forum, player, and dragon searches with updated formatting
Dressing Room and Scrying Workshop could go under the “Play” category
Forums can be it’s own category with possible subcategories being: Announcements & News, Help Center, and Flight specific discussion forum, maybe more
Library category could then just be: Which Waystone, World Map, Game Database, and Encyclopedia.
Support should be it’s own category.
One thing on the shop category, and i hesitate to say this because im not CONFIDENT on this one, but I’m not sure Custom Skins exactly fits? or at least, it should be Purchase Gems -> Marketplace -> Custom Skins, not between crossroads and festive favors
Merch should probably go under purchase gems, and they should maybe uhh..... i guess change the name for it overall? because 1. “merch” alone does NOT look good with its placement, 2. its another actual money purchase thing and I think those should go on the same page
Along with that, in putting merch under that page, they could put previews of the merch with a button to go purchase instead of immediately going to their merch site (which to begin with it should open in a new tab if its going to a separate site?!!)
then this is a mix of both not liking it on laptop OR mobile,
[ID: A cropped image of Flight Rising’s Clan Home page. The Bestiary link has a bright red box highlighting it]
Obviously these pages are old, but the graphics need to be updated, and there needs to be graphics for every link in the category-- seeing with this category alone there isn’t a graphic for the Bestiary already. On top of this they need to be in link order preferably. if they had a normal dropdown menu for mobile, mobile users wouldn’t be able to access the bestiary unless FR wanted to be STUPID and do further dropdown menus w their 200 links which would be STUPID and CLUTTERED
also in my opinion the Messages link isn’t necessary since we have the button at the top. If they put it there as an excuse for accessibility, they can just. add text to the buttons. like here’s a scuffed mockup but.
[ID: Screenshot of Flight Rising’s Messages, Friend Requests, and Alerts icons edited to have Messages, Friends, and Alerts written next to the icons]
for the friends tab, they could prolly add friend requests at the top like they do for baldwin alerts, then have an online status thing for friends below with buttons to PM, trade, delete friend, etc. I think you’re already able to disable the online status thing with page visibility? but like, make those options separate if you dont wanna block off your entire page, but dont want to be seen online.
For mobile, they can just make the icons bigger.
then. i THINK. last thing on laptop site.
[ID: A screenshot of Flight Rising’s Social Media links with old Logos to YouTube, Tumblr, Reddit, Twitter, Facebook, and DeviantArt]
update these fucking icons they are personally killing me, none of these logos are in use anymore (ALSO UPDATE THE TUMBLR THEME JESUS CHRIST)
ok now for mobile. what this post was originally for.
-
as you all know, if you visit this site on mobile, there is literally no form of a mobile version for it. It is just a condensed version of the computer version of the site which is...Very Bad!
Most of a sites visitors are going to be through mobile, i forget the exact percentage, but like it’s almost a given that people more readily have their phones with them than their laptop or tablet (which. im not going to bother with the tablet version, you can apply both computer and mobile criticisms to the site). in fact a lot of my time on FR is through mobile since I’m not at home 24/7 and I don’t tote my laptop around. Playing this game through it’s mobile site is Not Fun!
I like, won’t be too pissy or anything bc like. it’s a petsite and I’m making this post for fun. but also like it was made in 2014? 2013? so I’m not going to be u kno. angry. but it nearing the point of ten years with this site and there still isn’t a mobile friendly version. that is lazy. If anything, if they wanted a site update to be the anniversary thing, they should’ve made that update be
Mobile update as primary thing, because designing the site for mobile is a shit ton of work with the amt of pages they have to work through.
Dragon Profile page update (*LOUD SIGH*)
Clan page update
Hoard update (i have thoughts on this too but i wont dive into it this post)
Purchase Gems page update
Dev Tracker update
Forums update
“but that’s a lot to update” well. that wouldve made the anniversary being a website update considerably more worth it, because in my opinion having the dragon profile pages be the ONLY thing to happen during the anniversary was a waste and a bad decision, because other website updates are just. normal whatever updates. it made the anniversary SUPER underwhelming especially bc the past ones (to my knowledge) have only been major game mechanic updates like the eye & ancients update and i believe? the color wheel expansion was an anniversary thing? someone can correct me on that I haven’t played this game as long as most LMAO
as for how i personally would situate the mobile site. shitty graphic time, bc im not putting too much effort into this (warning this will be LONG)
[ID: Image 1. A crudely put together screenshot of the top half of a Mobile View of Flight Rising with comments on either side. It ends with the Latest News segments “Riot of Rot” and “Hoard & Vault Revamp”
Comment 1, Left side: “no banner make it a solid color that matches the burger menu. size the logo correctly etc. Comment 2, Right side: “burger menu w ONLY the categories, goes to the homepages of the categories” Comment 3, Right side: “TWO latest news posts, maybe a button to go see earlier news (which may b something to add to comp too)” Comment 4, Right side: “center dates and comments maybe idfk”
At the bottom of the image there is an added “button” that says “more updates button”]
[ID: Image 2. The bottom half of the mobile view with comments on the left side. There is a put together white box that has the Plague Flight Logo and “plage dom !” written in it. Below it are the Site Status, Random Dragon, and Exalt Bonuses boxes from the site. Underneath that is a red box with “ad space” in the center, with a red footer at the bottom.
The footer contains, “social media! (specifally made icons for site)”, “better formatted links”, and “copyright”.
Comment 1: “idk what they would caption it but the flashy can go here.” Comment 2: “ONE site status update if they keep this format” Comment 3: “probably center these links. i dont know what they use to build the site but im sure you can make icons for social media on just about anything unless this is all handcoded. just. make small icons it takes two seconds and you can copy+paste”]
i dont even want to THINK about how the lair and all that would look on mobile, it was a chore doing the home page alone SOBS
anyways, in ref to these images though--
this is just slapped together and definitely wouldn’t be a final draft, it could use some tweaking
the flashy i refer to is the box that’s above the user box that says what flight is in dom, what festival is going on, etc.
when i mention building the site and “you can make icons for social media on just about anything” im referring to wordpress, wix, whatever is used to format the site. I really only have experience with wordpress thru elementor and divi (so far) so im not CERTAIN about other places but I feel it would be pretty common to have that tool. if not, making icons (or snatching some) is rlly not that hard, probably only costly depending on what their webdesigner(s) charge for icons
I’m not like certain on who does what, how the webdesigner(s) work with/price this site, etc. etc. this is just. going off of my own knowledge. and in general this whole post is my own knowledge abt shit i did no further research to FRs team specifically
i think this is basically it, i’ll reblog with more if i think of anything, but feel free to add things yourself or in general discuss things. again this post was made for fun so im not taking it seriously or demanding for these changes to be made, just personal annoyances and preferences.
This is also my first time doing picture IDs for a post so if I need to correct anything or the like let me know and I’ll edit it in the post!
#im afraid to put this in the tag but you can rb i dont care#but GOD this post ended up so much longer than i anticipated..............#the more i looked at the site the more i saw to point out LMAO#also i tried making this post more accessible bt if theres still some things that dont make sense please let me know#esp the picture ids#theres also so much more i could add whether it's inconsistencies or whatever but i do not !! have the time for that
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Fix Me Not (18) | Sugawara Koushi X Reader
Wattpad: heartbeats_forU
Previous chapters can be found on my tumblr account/profile <3
___
18. Come over
(Yn)
"He's your boyfriend?" Tooru asked as we started walking away from Koushi. Why is he so interested in me having a partner?
"No! My mom will kill me--"
"I can see through you, (Yn)-chan. I'm disappointed in you," he pouted, making me scoff.
"And why are you disappointed when I'm literally with someone who's proud to be with me like i am with him?"
"Caught you."
I stared at him in disbelief, realizing that he just kinda pissed me off to make me tell the truth. We both laughed at our craziness.
I don't think I'll ever get used to this guy's attitude. I know how he acts but I don't know hoe he always makes himself look cool. He might be crappy but he's the good kind of crappy.
"You're not going to tell mom," I said with pride.
"Of course, not. I like it when you're happy. Besides, you haven't done anything BEYOND the limit right? Unless..."
"Shut up!"
He immediately left after he walked me home. I tended to my wounds before texting Koushi. I would like to make it clear to him that I was just being petty earlier. I don't want this day to end in a bad way. Shark week really does mess up your temper sometimes.
"What should I tell him?" I asked myself. I know I talk to myself a lot and it's weird for some people but for me, it's one way to sort out your thoughts without needing company.
I'm home :)
I gritted my teeth once I sent the message. I didn't want to scare him nor make it seem like what happened earlier was nothing so I opted for that simple message. That's what I always do whenever I come home from somewhere anyway.
Me too. Are you okay?
I smiled WIDELY when I received his reply. I was about to send him a message again when the door to the bedroom opened.
"Hitoka, you startled me!" I grasped my chest and felt my heart rapidly beating.
"S-sorry... I met Sugawara-san on my way back home. He looked really s-sad. Well, I-I don't know if he's sad! I'm sorry for assuming that!" she gushed in a high-pitched tone.
"Ya-chan, calm down. I had a petty argument with him earlier, that's why," I said. Hitoka sat on the space beside me on the bed before fiddling with my hair.
"What happened?" she questioned.
I grumbled and punched the air out of frustration. Hitoka backed away immediately when I did. She must've thought that I'd hit her. I felt sorry but laughed anyway. She's so cute.
"We were talking about Tooru. You know how close I am with that guy. Koushi suddenly started ignoring m- not ignoring but he was so quiet. I kinda felt like he was jealous but I didn't think he'd be like that. Was I just overreacting? Because I suddenly ignored him as well and started being mean," I explained.
"I think he was... jealous. They've met each other and Oikawa-san felt like someone formidable to the team. I-I'm not sure but it felt like that!"
I gasped in realization before slowly nodding. Maybe Koushi felt like I was on Tooru's side more? He must've been along the lines of being jealous but I don't exactly know if it's because of Tooru and I being friends or because Tooru seemed intimidating?
Whatever that is, that got me thinking. If I'm right about Koushi being wary of Tooru's presence and role in my life, I feel like I should put in more effort to show that I'm only his and Oikawa's just a close friend. Kou's got my support, my love, my heart, my body, my everything. Gah! I'm going crazy but I know boys need assurance, too.
"Ya-chan, should I go to their practices or games--"
"No!"
My eyes widened in shock at her loud and aggressive response. Wow. That was one hell of an answer.
"You don't like me seeing Koushi?"
"N-no, (yn)! I'm sorry! I didn't mean it that way. You're welcome to attend their practices and games... just tell me if you're going so that I can accompany you."
"You're their assistant manager. You can't possibly assist or accompany me who's not part of the club. You have things to do--"
"Then just please tell Sugawara-san if you're going."
"Um, sure. Okay?"
I was confused by her actions again but I didn't think much of those. She's so panicky!
__________
I'm fine. Come out.
I pouted as I waited outside Koushi's house. I don't know if he's here but I'm hoping he is. I might sulk if I come back home without seeing him at all. I ended up going here because my love hormones urged me.
Do you want me to come over? I'll be there in less than 10 minutes.
No, cutie. I'm the one who came over. Open your door for me.
"You could've knocked," was the first thing he said when he saw me.
"I might disturb your parents--"
"They're not home."
"Oh," I smirked teasingly. He huffed with a smile before throwing an arm around my shoulders and walking both of us inside their home.
"You want to eat? Did you ask for permission?" he inquired as he inspected my knees.
"I did. It felt like I was in a different world. Mom immediately agreed when I mentioned your name. You didn't poison her right?" I joked. I was really taken aback when she agreed. It's already 6 PM and she would've forbade me to go outside but all she said was 'his house is near, right? Be back before 9'. CRAZY, right?
"No. Have you eaten?"
"No, have you?"
He was on his knees in front of me while I sat at their couch comfortably since we're the only people here. He looked up at me when I asked him before shaking his head sideways with a small smile.
Wow, he looks so good.
I stared at him in admiration before pulling him up and guiding him to the space beside me.
"I was about to--"
"But I arrived? That's good then. I can be your food."
I suddenly found myself on his lap, straddling him, with my hands resting on his chest before kissing him. I didn't even give him the chance to move since I was so quick. I winced when I felt my knees hit the couch. I pulled away, my eyes quickly searching for his.
He was wide-eyed and his lips were ajar, making me feel the warmth of his breath on my neck.
"I'm sorry," I sincerely said.
"It's...fine. It was just a kiss--"
"No, I'm not sorry for kissing you. I'm talking about my behavior while we were playing volleyball earlier."
Well, my mom might kill me if she finds out that I kissed a boy but I'm not going to tell her so I can stay alive. Hehe.
"I understand. I'm sorry, too. Does your wound hurt a lot?" he asked while caressing the area below my scraped knee.
"When it hits something. My cramps hurt more. I don't want to move!" I whined and he seemed so nervous. He tried to wrap his hands under my thighs to lift me up but he quickly withdrew the moment I flinched.
"Sorry. Just... don't move too much," he mumbled while looking away.
"Oh, the cool Sugawara Koushi is getting nervous and shy? I wonder why..."
I laughed at his odd behavior. I didn't even flinch because I didn't want his hands on me. It's just that his hands were so cold so I immediately flinched when he grabbed my sensitive skin.
"Stop... moving," he mumbled as he held my waist to keep me in place. He was smiling but I can see that his eyebrows are furrowed and he seemed like he was trying to focus. I smirked even more.
"I like your hands when they're on my waist. I like it more when you're playing volleyball. I like you so much, I want to marry you now," I rambled, a chuckle escaping my throat at the end. He was about to talk when I placed my right index finger on his lips to shush him before my eyes traveled lower with my mouth slightly open in awe.
I looked back at him when I saw what I expected to see before smiling. The area we're in was a bit dim but the moon up above made it possible for a little bit of light to paint Koushi's face down to his waist. I dragged my index finger down his neck... his chest... and stopped when I reached his toned stomach. He's so breathtaking.
I felt like I was taking his breath away as well because all I can hear now is his ragged breathing and a bit of white noise. Without hesitation, I leaned down to kiss him again. It felt better this time because this was longer and slower, giving us time to experiment and adjust. The feeling was electrifying.
I kept my palms pressed against his chest while his right hand found its way around my neck, pushing me closer to him even more. I groaned at the feeling of our chests pressed together. I waited for a few seconds before sucking on his bottom lip experimentally but a warm feeling started to spread throughout my body when I heard him let out a sweet shaky moan.
All I can think of right now is... Shit. Shit. Shit. This feels good.
I was about to rub my hips against his, my hands clamping on the couch's back to help me raise myself but he was quick to bite my lip and hold me down, swiftly placing me on the empty spot beside him. I pouted in disappointment at the loss of body contact but melted when he pressed a chaste kiss on my forehead.
"It's time to eat," he told me with a small smile.
"Well, I was eating yo--"
He cut me off with a soft chuckle that sounded like heaven to my ears before grabbing my hands and interlocking our fingers.
"That can wait. Just a few more years, (yn). For now, real food comes first."
I nodded at him. Well, my mom's going to kill me now not only because I kissed a boy but also because I made out with one. Koushi's making me do crazy things! What the heck!!!!!
But he's right. I can't help but admire him for his self-control and... for existing. I don't know why I didn't meet him sooner.
"You're real food though," I retorted with a smirk.
#sugawara koushi#sugawara#koushi#sugawara x reader#koushi x reader#sugawara imagines#sugawara scenarios#koushi imagines#koushi scenarios#haikyuu#anime#haikyuu x reader#anime x reader#haikyuu imagines#anime imagines#haikyuu scenarios#anime scenarios#wattpad#fixmenot#kaiinyourarea#haikyuu masterlist#karasuno#fanfic#teenfiction#fanfiction#x reader#reader insert#volleyball#fluff#angst
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SHIELD ID CARD REQUEST FORM
Alright, ya weirdos. So I used to run an ID making thing where people could message me and get an ID card for their SHIELD character made. Then I stopped doing it because I got really overwhelmed and didn’t feel like doing it. Then I vanished for like 5 years, my personal blip, and now I’m back. SOOOO, I dug out the old files.
Only I don’t have photoshop anymore. I am using Photopea and Photopea doesn’t like the original fonts I was using for these cards. So it’s taken me a while but I finally got this card design up and running to my satisfaction again.
Please follow the rules I have laid out for each design and I will try to get to these card requests in an orderly fashion. OR you could use this site I found which makes remarkably similar cards to the AoS design instantly and includes the clearance level. It’s really nice and also has a Hydra version.
DESIGN 1
This design is based on the Agents of SHIELD tv series ID cards. It's all their design. I just reproduced it as best I could.
What I will need to get this card made:
Design number
Your Name
Gender
Hair Color
Height [When it doubt, look up the height of the FC]
Date you joined SHIELD (I imagine the cards expire and need to be renewed every 4 years or so. The date you JOINED will not be on the card, but it will be used to figure out when the card was last renewed and when it will again expire) If your character blipped, please tell me and I will put their issue date as 2023 which is the year everyone was blipped back. If your character is no longer with SHIELD and you just want something from before they left, let me know the year they left and I will make one with dates before then so you can pretend its their old ID. Or request specific years if you want. Would make it easier on me. lol
Title (Possibly having to do with your division. Examples from the show are: Administrator, field officer, Bio-Chem, Engineer, and Specialist) I will literally put anything you want.
Your Birthday
And a photo with a plain background [light or dark but preferably dark to match the ones from the show], preferably from the shoulders up. [They don't have to be looking at the camera but treat it as though they were literally getting their photo taken for their ID card. So no crazy poses or wacky outfits or weird angles. Straight up school picture day photo.]
The numbers and letters in the Card DNC No. section are totally random or based on my mood as I have no idea what a Card DNC No. is or what it's supposed to do... So... There's that.
The QR Codes are ACTUAL WORKING QR CODES and if you would like a specific message [Please keep them short. Longer ones are harder for you to scan and read] please let me know. Otherwise it will be a random surprise you can scan when you get it or I will just link it to your tumblr.
Send all of the above information through the tumblr chat and I will send the card to you through there as well. I will also post it on my tumblr with the tag ‘idcards’ which is where I keep all the ones I previously made. If I don’t hear from you after that I will assume there are no errors to be fixed.
DESIGN 2
This is based off of several designs I have seen online that I mooshed into one so this is not my ORIGINAL design. It looked neat so I recreated it and modified it to my liking.
What I will need to get this card made:
Design number
Your Name
Clearance Level (from 1 to 8)
Date you joined SHIELD (I imagine the cards expire and need to be renewed every 4 years or so. The date you JOINED will not be on the card, but it will be used to figure out when the card was last renewed and when it will again expire) If your character blipped, please tell me and I will put their issue date as 2023 which is the year everyone was blipped back. If your character is no longer with SHIELD and you just want something from before they left, let me know the year they left and I will make one with dates before then so you can pretend its their old ID. Or request specific years if you want. Would make it easier on me. lol
Title (Example, Agent, Head of _____, Administrator, ect)
And a photo with a plain light background, preferably from the shoulders up and showing the entire head. [They don’t have to be looking at the camera but treat it as though they were literally getting their photo taken for their ID card. So no crazy poses or wacky outfits or weird angles. Straight up school picture day photo.]
Send all of the above information through the tumblr chat and I will send the card to you through there as well. I will also post it on my tumblr with the tag ‘idcards’ which is where I keep all the ones I previously made. If I don’t hear from you after that I will assume there are no errors to be fixed.
DESIGN 3
This design is based on an image of Tony Stark’s ID badge I saw online. Design not my creation.
What I will need to get this card made:
Your Name
And a Letter designating your reason for being at SI [V for Visitor, S for Security, on the design I took it from Tony was an A I assume meaning Administrator or A class. Whatever. Give me a letter to work with.
And a photo with a plain background, preferably from the shoulders up. [They don’t have to be looking at the camera but treat it as though they were literally getting their photo taken for their ID card. So no crazy poses or wacky outfits or weird angles. Straight up school picture day photo.]
Your username is under the barcode at the bottom.
Send all of the above information through the tumblr chat and I will send the card to you through there as well. I will also post it on my tumblr with the tag ‘idcards’ which is where I keep all the ones I previously made. If I don’t hear from you after that I will assume there are no errors to be fixed.
If you have any questions or concerns please message me. This is just for fun. I don’t take payment or whatever.
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family and (mis)fortune
or, tommy merlyn accidentally part-time joins the batfam
hello, please enjoy and have mercy, pretty much all of my batfam knowledge is informed either by batman: the animated series or tumblr posts. be gentle with me, i know so little about jason todd, i’m doing my best
this meta developed over whatsaspp in messages to @andyouweremine, @acheaptrickandacheesyoneline, and @storiesofimagination
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Just a fun little notion to mull over: Malcolm Merlyn dies/disappears (hallelujah) in the two years after his wife’s death and leaving his child behind. Accident and happenstance bring Tommy Merlyn, orphan, to the attention of Bruce Wayne. And thus Tommy becomes a part time foster sibling to the batfam
(lol the above was supposed to be it, the end, literally the entire whole thing, but then all the rest happened)
Like. Say Bruce (probably he knew Rebecca?) takes over custody of Tommy. For the sake of the boy and his clear attachment to the Queens, especially Oliver, Bruce has Tommy enrolled as a boarding student at Starling Academy. So the boys still get to spend the school year together, and sometimes in the summer or over holidays Oliver visits in Gotham
And Tommy is pretty much just a part time addition to the Bruce Wayne orphans-who-eerily-resemble-me collection, so it’s several years before he catches on even a little to what Bruce and older foster brother Dick get up to after dark
But eventually he DOES find out. And maybe he doesn’t suit up too, but Bruce can’t have one of his kids knowing about Batman and not prepared to protect himself so he gets a lot of the same training
(Meanwhile Tommy grows up with siblings and a father figure(s)—heyyy Alfred—who show him care and don’t abuse him. And maybe even therapy. But also he gets to maintain his closeness to Oliver and even Thea because he still spends most of the year in Starling)
As a better adjusted dude all around Tommy is probably a moderately better influence on Oliver. Like he can’t change everything but maybe things are mitigated. Then the gambit still goes down (probably Malcolm didn’t actually die after all? He just went deep into the league or whatever and continued to influence things in Starling towards the Undertaking from the shadows?)
In the wake of that Tommy moves to Starling full time and insists to everyone including Bruce that Oliver is still alive etc etc. he doesn’t give up hope (although also maybe he doesn’t get involved with Laurel? Maybe.) and then Oliver actually comes back
More or less most of canon stuff goes on except now you have a Tommy who eats breakfast casually with Batman and multiple Robins and has training and has been inside the Batcave and knows what it looks like when someone he loves is not doing a great job of a) hiding how deeply traumatized they are and b) concealing their vigilante side gig
(@acheaptrickandacheesyoneline contributed: "Oliver, you need to get better excuses"
"Excuses for what?"
"Like that. Right there"
To which i responded: “Look I know the reckless playboy thing seems like an awesome cover story at first but trust me, if you don’t balance it right it just makes everything more work than it’s worth”)
Bruce calling Tommy ostensibly just to check in with his foster son but non-covertly actually sniffing around about this murderous new vigilante in Starling
Tommy very awkwardly and transparently lying that he has no idea who it could possibly be
Tommy tries to crack bad jokes about how he just seems to attract cape and cowl types to wherever he lives and Bruce heaving the longest sigh on record because Tommy and Dick really are way too similar for Bruce’s mental health
Also in this headcanon Bruce was definitely like early 20s when he took in Dick so he was like maaayyybe 27 when he took in Tommy. Putting him younger than 40 or just over at time of Oliver’s return. So Bruce is like barely older than Diggle
Okay my math wasn’t great. So if Dick is a few years older than Tommy and Oliver and Bruce adopted him at like 22, let’s say Bruce is 24 when Rebecca dies and Tommy is 8... 26 when he takes custody of Tommy... which means he’s actually like 43 at time of Oliver coming back from the dead (subject to change, i’m bad at math!)
The way I picture it is that Bruce knew Rebecca (maybe their families knew each other??) and went to her funeral, where he observed the lost looking, clearly devastated eight year old that widower Malcolm was too busy brooding furiously to attend to. Bruce never liked Malcolm. They’d met a few times over the years and he always thought Rebecca could have done better. Malcolm always stuck Bruce as oily and shark eyed. Something cold and hungry under the surface of his charming facade. But Rebecca seemed happy with him so it wasn’t his business
That boy though. The image of that grieving boy, his whole world snatched away and not even a kindly butler to hold his hand at the graveside, that stays with Bruce, nags at him. He checks up on the remaining Merlyns from a distance after returning to Gotham. He’s unsettled and unhappy when he learns Malcolm has run off, leaving his young son behind with some hired help and power of attorney vested in his friend Robert Queen. He follows the situation for two years. When Malcolm returns he’s hopeful Tommy’s life will go better than Bruce’s did, but Malcolm only leaves again all too soon. And then he disappears. His plane goes down or something (who even cares as long as Malcolm is gone-zo, pfft bye bitch). And Tommy is truly alone, an orphan in name as well as circumstance now
Bruce knows there’s no other family to claim Tommy. He knows the boy is staying with the Queens at the moment, that Robert has guardianship, but it’s also apparent they’re in no rush to formalize the situation to anything more permanent. Bruce decides to go to Starling himself and see what will become of Tommy
It’s immediately obvious the Queens are a mess. Infidelity and fighting and periodic separation between Moira and Robert. Moira is just recently pregnant. And she seems anxious and uneasy about Tommy. Even as she does seem to care about him, she also seems determined to keep him at arm’s length. However it’s just as obvious that despite all this, Tommy and the Queen boy might as well be brothers for as close as they are
It’s clearly not an ideal situation. Bruce being Bruce decides he’s just gonna fix things. But when Moira catches wind of it she goes oddly protective and it leads to a face off between the two of them. Moira hits Bruce about being too young, unmarried, having no prior relationship with Tommy, living so far from everything Tommy knows.
Bruce hits back with brutal truths, the killing blow that Moira clearly has no intention of making Tommy part of her own family. Robert may have slightly more ground to stand on, but ultimately they all know that if the Queen marriage falls apart, it’s not Robert who would take custody of Tommy in the aftermath of another family disintegration
And so with the cooperation of Moira and Robert and a lot of money, Bruce becomes Tommy’s legal guardian and works out with the Queens an arrangement that has Tommy in boarding at the same school Oliver attends and charges Moira and Robert to act in loco parentis for daily or immediate matters. Moira will eventually unclench and let Tommy connect easily with Oliver and even Thea, because with Malcolm gone she doesn’t have that fear about her baby girl and her secret half brother putting her family at risk
And then @storiesofimagination was sad that there would be less Thea/Tommy sibling shenanigans in this AU, to which I said:
Oh but there will still be plenty of that! Because Tommy spends most of his school years largely in Starling and a lottttt of time at the Queen home. And Moira isn’t as uneasy about Tommy adoring Thea and vice versa because with Malcolm gone/presumed dead she’s less worried about her indiscretion being exposed
So @andyouweremine asked if Dick and Oliver get along
Dick is a few years older than Tommy and Oliver so he probably didn’t spend loads of time with them during Oliver’s visits? Not none though. Tommy thinks Dick is absurdly cool so Oliver might have been a little bit jealous but also thinks Dick is cool. Dick almost definitely thrives on the fact that living human beings think he is cool
But yeah. Dick. Dick is probably weird about Tommy at first. Is this a threat? A rival? Nope it’s a shy goofy kid who thinks Dick is way funnier than Bruce does and looks up to him and he’s only around for holidays and summers so he’s the best part time little brother ever
They get on like a house on fire probably. So many bad jokes. So many. Bruce probably hides from the puns down in the Batcave even when there’s no mission because Dick can either hang out with Tommy or annoy Bruce in the super secret crime fighting lair but not both
Tommy loves the hell out of Alfred. He’s like Raisa, only Tommy gets to keep him
Alfred is just pleased to have a charge he doesn’t have to semi regularly do sutures for
If we’re going full batfam, Tommy and Jason probably can’t stand each other most of the time, but it’s mostly because Jason is extremely prickly and acts out wildly (younger days, obv)
Years later when Tim arrives on the scene, Tommy delights in being the older brother at last. They don’t have tons in common but they get along well enough
AND THEN, because @andyouweremine campaigned to ship Tommy/Dick because both Tommy Merlyn and Dick Grayson are as bi as they come:
Tommy would absolutely have the world’s most awkward crush on Dick at least in his teens. He so would though. Dick would probably be his bisexual awakening. Oliver would get sick of hearing about it. Tommy just looks up one day at like 14-15 while Dick is tooling around the house doing dumb acrobatic impressive-feats-of-athletic-dumbassery and there’s all those taut muscles and a flash of rock hard abs and suddenly Tommy needs to go to his bunk excuse himself to his bedroom to freak out privately that apparently he also likes boys now and ugh WHY THIS ONE
(later in life he’ll somewhat bitterly lament that his type seems to be “taboo.” probably he mentions this to Jason when they are both adults and sharing a beer and doing some extremely rare bonding, and Jason shoots him one hell of a side eye like “Please tell me you’re not into underage girls because I will kill you and I won’t feel bad.”
And Tommy barks a mortified laugh and says “No. Jesus Christ, no, I mean people—adult people!—that I should stay away from, because I should know better or they’d never be into me or, uh,” sweating nervously, hoping his face isn’t telegraphing DICK GRAYSON or OLIVER QUEEN to someone trained by the actual Batman, “other reasons.”)
And you know, Tommy probably doesn’t find out about his foster dad and foster brother being Batman and Robin until he’s like 16-17. So right before Dick stops being Robin/Jason arrives on scene
Not telling Oliver about kills him
And he’s probably torn between reactions. Excited/in awe that his found family are actual superheroes. A little self conscious and insecure that his found family are superheroes but he’s just... him. Stressed that Bruce and Dick are regularly putting themselves in danger. A little off balance and hurt because Bruce Dick and Alfred have all been keeping this secret from him for years
Eventually he knows why they didn’t tell him. Because it’s so hard not to tell Oliver. He doesn’t actually want to brag to the world and he’s not dumb enough to just accidentally give it away, but not telling Oliver is excruciating, and Oliver can probably tell there’s something Tommy is hiding from him all of a sudden.
It probably puts a new and awful strain on their relationship, but Tommy finally puts the words together to beg Oliver to understand that he has to keep someone else’s secret. That it’s important and not his to tell and that that’s the only reason he wouldn’t tell Oliver something. Things are still stiff for a little while but Oliver accepts it eventually. Especially after Tommy likens it to how just because Tommy has told Oliver he’s bi it wouldn’t be okay for Oliver to tell somebody else Tommy was bi without Tommy’s permission
And so, after Tommy finds out that he’s part of the actual batfam, Bruce makes him train. Not to take up a mask but to be prepared to protect himself if what he now knows were ever to endanger him
Tommy actually doesn’t want to take up a mask. He’s never been a big “family business” guy, even if he did intern at Wayne enterprises last summer
The strain of keeping Bruce’s secret from Oliver was bad enough. Tommy can’t imagine keeping it secret from Oliver if that same secret was his own
(After all, Tommy may have interned at Wayne enterprises but so did Oliver. He stayed with the Waynes the whole summer and Bruce was never more stressed out in his life over things not directly related to costumed villainy)
--
@memcjo @klaus-hargreeves-katz @its-a-pygmy-puffle @keabbs @princesssarcastia @obscure-sentimentalist
#tommy merlyn#oliver queen#batfam#bruce wayne#dick grayson#jason todd#arrow#the batfam tommy au#family and (mis)fortune au#more to inevitably come (someday)#sorry i almost forgot to tag folks!!!#happy (early) birthday from me to you#fam au
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Love Has a Learning Curve: Part VII (x OC)
Summary: Maggie tries to make things right, with a little push from her mama.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x OC
Category: hurt/comfort
Warnings/Includes: none
Word count: 5.8k
a/n: I know, I know— please just let our babies be happy ♥️ and so it was. Also, big ups to my tumblr gf @idmakeitbehave for being my beta the last two chapters.
Series Masterlist
———
One week.
That’s how long it had been since their argument. Spencer had driven back to his apartment in silence, absolutely stunned by the way things had blown up.
They’d gotten back from the case in Utah on the fifth of January, and he’d driven straight to Maggie’s, ready to give her a belated New Year’s kiss. Immediately upon entering her apartment, he knew something was wrong. Her hug was stiff, her kiss brief, her eye contact minimal. He’d spent the night, but they barely touched, and she left early for work without waking him. He’d let himself out and texted her later in the day to invite her over for dinner.
Dinner hadn’t been any less awkward, and when he felt awkward, he knew it was bad. He finally couldn’t ignore it any longer, and he’d called it out. He had expected some resistance, but he hadn’t expected that. Maggie never spoke to him with any malice at all, even when he was actually doing something that irritated her. She was the queen of healthy communication. So for her to speak to him like that meant that the underlying issue was much, much worse than he’d originally thought.
He’d gone over their conversations a thousand times, looking desperately for the moment that it went wrong. After some deep consideration, he was certain that something had happened on New Year’s Eve. He just wasn’t sure what. Maggie was insistent that she wasn’t bothered by the declined call, but he still wished he could go back in time and answer it. He was pretty sure the seeds of their argument had sprouted in that moment, regardless of what she said.
Spencer knew she was a creature of habit, and that sometimes she needed space to process and experience her emotions. And if he was being honest, he needed some space after the argument, too. But usually she would have at least texted him by now.
He sighed and set down his newspaper, realizing he’d read the same page four times and hadn’t retained any of it. It was Friday, and he knew she was working. But still his fingers itched to dial her number. He picked up the phone, pressing a key to light up the screen yet again.
No new messages.
He dropped the phone back to the table with a little more force than was necessary. He decided he’d give her the rest of the weekend. If he didn’t hear from her by Sunday, he’d have to do something.
…
Maggie dropped her bag on the floor inside the door and turned to lock the deadbolt. She had managed to sneak out of the building without being stopped by Anita, and she thanked the universe for small miracles.
She didn’t want to have to explain herself. She didn’t want anyone to know what an absolute troll she’d been. Considering that Sam and Spencer had practically become attached at the hip since they’d started hanging out more, Anita was bound to ask about him.
She showered and ordered Thai food, snuggling down on the couch to watch a movie with Roald. She settled on Dumplin’— a favorite for the body positivity, the southern drawls, and the Dolly Parton drag.
And then she came to the argument outside of Harpy’s and lost what little emotional stability she had left.
“Never took you for the type that cares much what people think.”
“I can’t, Bo. And that might make me a coward, but—”
“It does. Willowdean Dixon, I think you’re beautiful. To hell with anyone who’s ever made you feel less than that.”
She didn’t realize she was crying until Roald meowed in distress. She choked out a sob and stroked over his ears, closing her eyes in defeat. “I really fucked this up, huh?”
It had only been one week, but it felt like years since Spencer walked out of her apartment. She’d stayed in bed for the entire weekend, crying on and off. She knew she had no one to blame but herself. Owen had knocked over the first domino, but she’d done nothing to stop the rest from falling.
Spencer had done everything right. He’d done everything she asked, and she’d thrown it all back in his face. He had made the comparison to Mitchell Park, and he was absolutely right. She’d done the exact same thing, only she had almost a year’s worth of ammunition, and she cut a hell of a lot deeper.
Roald nuzzled against her, but she nudged him away— she didn’t even deserve the comfort. Instead, she fumbled in the couch cushions for her phone, swiping open the screen and tapping her favorites list, thumb hovering over Spencer’s name. Then she tapped on the name right above it and blew out a breath.
The line connected and rang three times before she picked up. “Hey, sugar! Your ears must be ringin’, ‘cause I was just thinkin’ about callin’ you.”
“Hey, mama,” Maggie breathed.
Her mother’s tone changed from chipper to concerned in an instant. “What’s wrong, baby?”
She leaned forward to the coffee table to grab Spencer’s scarf— somehow left behind in her apartment— rubbing it between her fingers. “I— I really messed up.”
“Oh, Lord. You need bail money?”
Despite herself, Maggie laughed wetly. “Oh my god, mama. No, I don’t need bail money.”
“Well, if you made bail it can’t be that bad,” Rose insisted.
“I didn’t— I’m not in jail, for Christ’s sake.” Maggie ran a hand over her face. “I messed things up with Spencer.”
“Well, we can fix that,” Rose responded matter of factly. “What happened?”
“We were fighting, and I said some really, really awful things,” Maggie admitted, tears spilling over her lash line.
Rose scoffed. “Honey, I say awful things to your father all the time, and we’ve been married almost forty years.”
Maggie heaved a long sigh. “Not like this, mama.”
Her mother hummed in consideration. “Well, what were y’all fightin’ about?”
“It’s complicated,” Maggie hedged, toying with the fringe of the scarf.
Rose clicked her tongue. “Do ya want my help or not?”
Maggie dropped her head back against the couch. “I ran into Owen on New Year’s Eve—”
“Well, I hope you told him to stick it where the sun don’t shine,” Rose practically growled.
Maggie closed her eyes as the tears tracked hot down her cheeks. “I didn’t. I— I let him get under my skin, and then I didn’t want to tell Spencer about it because it’s embarrassing, but he knew something was wrong, and he wouldn’t stop asking about it.” She had to pause and suck in a hiccuping breath, releasing it on a sob. “So I yelled at him and said all kinds of terrible things, and then he left, and now I think maybe we broke up, and I’ve literally never been so sad in my whole life.”
There was a long pause on the other end of the phone, and then she heard Rose sniffling. “Really shoulda had your brothers knock the mess out of that son of bitch when we had the chance. He's been gone five years, and he’s still hurtin’ you every chance he gets.”
Maggie swiped uselessly at the tear tracks on her cheeks, sniffling pathetically. “And now I hurt the person who’s spent the last year singlehandedly undoing all of his awful handiwork.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” Rose cooed. Maggie could hear the creak of the floorboards as her mother walked through her childhood home. “You said he knew somethin’ was wrong, right? I can almost guarantee that he’s still just wonderin’ what’s goin’ on. I know he’s supposed to be a genius, but he’s still a man. And men are dumb, sugar. You gotta spell it out for ‘em. Have you talked to him since?”
“No.” Fresh tears spilled over Maggie’s lashes as the thoughts that had kept her from calling him spilled out of her mouth. “What if it was too far? What if I ruined everything? What if he never wants to speak to me again?”
Ross heaved out a long breath. “That’s a lot of what ifs, Maggie Mae.”
“What if I’m right?” she whispered.
“And what if you’re not?” Rose countered. “That boy loves you. Anyone could see that, clear as day. He’d do just about anything for you.” Rose paused, and Maggie heard the springs of the bed squeak as she sat. “But you gotta let him, sweetheart. Right now you’re takin’ away his chance to do that. You’re makin’ the decision for him.”
Maggie listened as her mother’s advice crackled over the line, and for the first time in a week, she felt a tiny sliver of hope.
“If he doesn’t want to be with you anymore, you need to let him tell you that. Don’t settle for a what if. Find out for sure, or you're gonna spend the rest of your life worryin’ and wonderin’, sugar.”
…
That evening found Spencer in his usual spot on the couch, reclined against the arm with a book in hand. He’d promised himself he’d give Maggie the weekend to herself— that he’d let her come to him. That didn’t stop him from checking his phone obsessively; it never buzzed with any new calls or messages, but he still looked every seven minutes.
The sound of the buzzer jolted his body to attention. He checked his watch and drew his brows together before closing his book and scrambling to cross to the intercom, a tiny seed of hope beginning to germinate. He pressed the button to talk, calling, “Yes?” into the speaker box and then listening for the response.
“Hi.”
Her voice was so quiet that he could barely hear it over the crackle of the speaker. He buzzed her in without hesitation, crossing to the door and opening it immediately. She made her way slowly up the stairs, turning at the top of the landing and pausing.
His heart broke at the sight of her. She looked utterly exhausted, dressed in black sweatpants and a soft purple sweater, a black puffer jacket over top. She was holding his scarf, wringing it in between her hands. Her eyes were ringed red, and the bags under them were worse than his.
He watched as she crossed the landing, coming to stand quietly in front of him. He’d known something was wrong, but the way she looked now made him wonder just how long she’d been battling whatever private demons she wouldn’t let him in on.
“I, um.” She cleared her throat, and it was clear she’d been crying from the thickness of her voice. “I have a lot to say— again. But since I was such an asshole, I wanted to give you the opportunity to say anything you need to say first.”
He’d imagined this conversation countless times over the last week, and never once had he thought it would start like this. “Um. Well. You— you really hurt me.”
She could barely look at him. “I know.”
He swallowed. “Please don’t do that again.”
She shook her head, finally meeting his eyes. “I won’t. I won’t ever again.”
Spencer tucked his hands into the pockets of his lounge pants. “I know I may not be the best at social cues, but I’m a pretty good profiler. And I can tell when something’s wrong.” He raised his eyebrows. “You don’t have to tell me everything. I’m just asking you to tell me when I do something that makes you upset.”
“You— you didn’t do anything wrong. I—” He watched her squeeze her eyes shut. “God, I’m so sorry, Spencer. I’m just— I’m sorry for so many things. For lying about being fine, for being up on my high horse about communicating and then not actually doing it, for being an absolute bitch.”
He wanted to argue— she wasn’t a bitch— but he could tell she was far from done.
“I— I thought therapy was supposed to teach me how to talk about things, but this still feels… impossible to say out loud,” she admitted, fingers fumbling with the fabric of the scarf. “It’s embarrassing and ridiculous. But I— I have deep-seated insecurities. That I’m not really that smart or interesting or particularly special.”
He thought back to that night in Mitchell Park and felt the guilt all over again. He’d practically said those exact words to her— it was no wonder she was feeling this way.
“And every person that I’ve ever been with has— really reinforced those ideas, so for a long time they were just… a set part of my self-image,” she explained, dragging a hand over her messy hair. “I thought— I thought that I was over it, but I— I don’t know. Maybe you never really are.”
His brain sorted through every moment of their year together, pinging off the countless examples of her self-doubt and insecurity. She was easily the most wonderful person he knew, but he could clearly see the cracks in the facade if he looked close enough. How had he missed it for so long?
“And then I met you, and you…” Maggie let out a wry laugh. “You’re easily the most interesting person I’ve ever met, but you made me feel like… I don’t know, like I’m interesting, too. Like I’m worthy of being with you, like I’m— like I’m good enough.”
He felt his heart splintering into a thousand tiny shards— good enough?
“But I can’t— I still have a hard time believing it sometimes. And I— I’ve been letting myself keep you at arms length. Letting you see parts of me, but… never giving you everything,” she admitted.
He watched her struggle to get the words out, her voice thick with the act of holding back sobs. He hadn’t realized she was carrying all of this. She was so good at supporting him and loving him through all of his trauma and issues, he hadn’t stopped to consider just how much she needed him, too.
She continued, “It’s why I took so long to say I love you… why I couldn’t talk to you last week. Because I just—” She shrugged as the tears rolled down her cheeks. “I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. For you to realize that I’m really nothing special. That you’re getting bored, or there’s someone who’s a better fit for you, or one million other things. That I’m needy, and annoying, and too much work.”
A fresh tear tracked down her cheek, and he felt his own eyes filling. She never failed to put a stop to his own insecurities— reminding him that she liked his rambling, that he wasn’t irritating, that he was just the right amount. In his eyes, she was perfect. He would have never guessed she felt this way about herself.
She continued, “That’s what happened before, and none of those guys were even half as wonderful as you are.” She swiped a hand haphazardly over her cheeks, looking at him sheepishly. “And then I was hurtful and awful, and I realized that I was just creating a self-fulfilling prophecy and I don’t— I don’t want to do that.”
Her hand shook a little as she brought it back down to twist in his scarf. “Because it’s never— I’ve never felt like this. I've never been this happy with anyone else, and I don’t want to give that up. I don’t want to give you up. Even if sometimes I feel like I’ll never be enough.”
Her voice cracked on a stifled cry, and his chest physically ached. “And if you never want to see me again, I completely understand, and I’ll leave you alone, but I— I’m just so sorry. And I love you so much, and I’m trying so hard to be better.” She sucked in a ragged breath and let it out on an exhausted sigh. “And that’s, um— that’s it. If you want me to go, I—”
“I don’t want you to go,” he interrupted.
Her eyes went wide. “You don’t?”
“Of course not.” Spencer stepped forward and reached for her. “Of course not. C’mere.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, she was tumbling into his arms with a choked off sob. He pulled her inside and closed the door behind them, walking her to the couch and sitting them both down. She clung to him like she was afraid he’d disappear into thin air.
“Maggie, I’m right here,” he assured her. “I’m right here, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”
“But if you n-need space, I understand,” she sobbed.
“I appreciate the offer, but I don’t need space. I think a week was long enough, don’t you?” he asked, pressing a kiss into her hair.
She pulled back out of the hug, head down. “But I really hurt you.”
He held her hand. “Yeah. And I really hurt you, too.”
She huffed out a breath. “That’s not how this works. I don’t get to hurt you just because you hurt me.”
“I know that.” He almost laughed at how indignant she sounded. “I’m not saying that we should hurt each other. I’m saying that sometimes it happens. And when it does, we apologize, and we forgive, and we move forward. And it’s okay if you need space. But I don’t.”
“What if you change your mind?” she whispered.
“Then I promise I’ll tell you.” Spencer tilted her chin up so he could meet her eyes. “I promise I’ll tell you what I need, as long as you tell me, too. We’ve gotta use all those communication skills we learn in therapy.”
Maggie nodded, and he pulled her into another hug. He closed his eyes, letting out a sigh of relief. “If I hadn’t heard from you by Sunday, I was planning to bother you until you talked to me.”
He could feel the beginning of a smile turning up the corner of her mouth where it was pressed to his shoulder. “You never bother me,” she mumbled. She held him for a moment longer and then released him from the hug and sat back, fidgeting with her hands and letting out a breath.
“Sometimes I need to be told that my worst fears about myself aren’t true,” she admitted. “I know that’s so annoying, but—”
“It’s not annoying,” he interrupted, putting an immediate stop to that line of thought. “Telling you how amazing you are isn’t the chore that you think it is. I’m sorry that anyone ever convinced you that it was.”
He covered her hands with his own, rubbing his thumbs softly along her skin. He couldn’t stop thinking about her dealing with all of this by herself. He hated that she’d ever felt anything less than adored. More than anything, he hated that he hadn’t been able to help her through it. And he wanted to make sure that he never made that mistake again.
“A wise man told me once... that love is helping someone navigate their storms,” he murmured, squeezing her hand. She looked at him then, and he continued, “You’ve been my lighthouse for a long time, Maggie. And I— I’m trying desperately to be yours… But you have to let me.”
Her eyes filled with fresh tears, but she nodded. He let out a long breath and pulled her hands into his lap. “I understand that sometimes you need space, and that’s fine. I’m happy to give you whatever you need.”
He shook his head. “Just— please don’t try to weather the storm by yourself. You can’t do it all alone; no one can.” He smiled ruefully. “I can tell you from experience that’s pretty much a guaranteed way to capsize your boat.”
His voice cracked a little at the end, and he felt a tear slip over his lash line. “I’ll help you repair your boat, or build a new one, or you can just float on mine for a while. It’s not perfect but it’s pretty sturdy, I think.”
She brought her fingers up to brush at his damp cheeks, and he met her eyes. “What I’m not going to do is let you float out on the ocean by yourself. I love you too much.”
She was quiet for a long moment, sniffling a little and just watching him— almost like she couldn’t believe he was there. She brought her hand back to his and laced their fingers together, rubbing her thumb along his. “I love you the most.”
“Agree to disagree.” He gave her a small smile and leaned forward to press his lips to her forehead. “Want some tea?”
She was frowning when he pulled back, her brows drawn together. “I need to tell you about Owen.”
The conversation he’d had with Anita was suddenly on replay in Spencer’s head.
… a real piece of shit… telling her lies about herself… isolating her… destroying her from the inside out...
He squeezed her hand. “You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready. You don’t have to tell me at all if you don’t want to.”
She shook her head. “Talking about him takes away his power. I have to stop letting him have so much sway over my emotions.” She looked at him then. “I do things I regret and hurt people I love.”
He brought their joined hands up his lips. “Well, I’m here either way. And I’m still going to make you some tea.”
He stood and pulled her up with him, bringing her into the kitchen and refusing to let go of her hand. He filled the kettle and turned it on, found a bag of her favorite tea and ripped it open with his teeth. He dropped the bag into her favorite mug, and then made a mug up for himself.
“You know, it’d be a lot easier if you’d let go,” she said, the hint of a smile in her voice.
“Mhm,” he agreed, but he made no move to release her hand. In fact, once he’d fumbled a spoonful of honey into each of the cups, he dropped the spoon into her mug and turned to pull her into another hug. He hooked his chin over her shoulder and closed his eyes as she brought her arms around his waist. “I missed you,” he whispered.
She squeezed him tight. “I missed you, too. I’m so sorry.”
She buried her face in his neck, and he felt her breathe him in. He pressed a kiss into her shoulder and then settled his chin again. “Apology accepted, in case it wasn’t clear.”
They stood like that until the kettle began to whistle, and then Spencer kept her tucked underneath his arm as he turned to shut it off and pour the water into the mugs. They each grabbed a mug, making their way back to the couch and setting them on the coffee table to steep. Spencer kept their fingers intertwined and stayed quiet, letting her set the pace of the conversation.
Maggie took a deep breath and let it out on a long sigh. “I guess I should start at the beginning. I, um— I had my first boyfriend in high-school: Cal Cunningham. He was older and cooler, and so I felt— I don’t know… special when he picked me.” She rolled her eyes. “In reality, he was rude, and arrogant, and kind of a misogynist. We didn’t date for very long, but it kind of… set me up on this path of dating guys who weren’t very nice.”
Spencer ran his thumb soothingly along hers, waiting for her to continue. “When I started college, I dated this guy Adam for a few months. He was nice enough but really self-centered and a little immature. When we broke up I just wanted to be on my own for a while.”
“I was single for two years after that, just kind of… finding myself and whatever.” Her eyes watched the path his thumb traced along her skin. “So when I started dating Owen at the end of junior year, it felt like my first real relationship. Like— we were both adults, and he dressed up for our dates, and he paid for things and bought me flowers and fit all the cliches.”
“And it was great at first,” she admitted. “We had a lot of the same friends, so we’d been hanging out for a while before we got together. He was a perfect gentleman, and he was smart, accomplished, and ambitious. I fell fast and I fell hard, and we were sort of— it feels so stupid to say this, but it felt like we were an it couple.
“A few of us made plans to move to DC after graduation— my friend Jess and her boyfriend Chris, Sam and Anita,” she explained. “And Owen and I, obviously. We moved in together in an apartment downtown. And that’s when everything changed.”
She drew her brows together. “It was little things at first. Like he’d jokingly call me stupid for forgetting something, or he’d complain about one of my friends being annoying. But it snowballed pretty quickly. He’d tell me I was stupid, and he wasn’t joking. All of my friends irritated him to the point where we couldn’t hang out anymore— even our former mutual friends. He thought that teaching kindergarten was a mindless, pointless job.”
Spencer tried to keep his heart rate steady, his facial expressions neutral, but his blood pressure was on the rise. No one deserved to be spoken to like that, least of all Maggie.
She continued, “We spent the holidays at my parents’ the second year we were dating, and he spent the entire car ride home explaining, in detail, how ridiculous and low-class he thought everything was.”
She shook her head and rubbed her free hand over her face. “I know it’s insane to think that I stayed with him for so long, but I— he did a really good job of convincing me that I was— that I was nothing. That he was doing me a favor by loving me. That he could have anyone, but he chose me. No one else was going to, so I should be grateful.”
He balled his free hand into a fist to avoid squeezing her to death. When Anita had said Owen was a piece of shit… he hadn’t realized just how deeply she meant it.
She picked at the fabric of her sweatpants, staring intently at the tiny pills. “When someone says all of that to you on a daily basis, and you’re not hearing otherwise from anyone else— because no one knew what was going on… you start to believe it.”
Spencer relaxed his fist to bring his fingers up to her face, gently cupping her cheek. She leaned into his touch and closed her eyes for a long moment. He didn’t know what to say. Instead, he pressed his lips to her forehead in a voiceless assurance that she was, in fact, everything. He felt her relax under the warm pressure of his lips, and he hoped that was enough for now.
He sat back to let her continue. “We were together for five years, and we only broke up because he cheated on me. It was a long term affair; they were sleeping together for almost a year before I found out. And… a lot of people knew. Almost all of his friends knew. But I didn’t. I was still being this ridiculous, desperate little Suzy Homemaker trying to make him happy, even though he was still treating me like shit.”
She laughed, but there wasn’t an ounce of humor in it. “When I found out, I wasn’t even hurt. I was… embarrassed, I guess. But I was so relieved. I was so fucking relieved that I had a way out.”
He watched as her shoulders settled, almost like an actual weight had been lifted off of them. “I got a therapist and dropped all of the friends that were still hanging around with him. I moved to a new neighborhood, started hanging out with Anita and Sam, and just— started fresh. And I was doing really well. I had my moments of insecurity here and there, but for the most part, I was been able to recognize the moments when I was falling back into old thought patterns.”
She looked at him then, and her eyes were so soft and lovely that his heart ached. “You’re a big reason for that. You’re so open with how you feel about me, and… it makes things a lot easier.” She dropped her gaze with a sigh. “But I— he was at the party on New Year's. And I didn’t know he was going to be there until I was already there, and then it felt stupid to leave. I thought I could handle it—”
“And then I didn’t answer your call.”
“No, no.” She shook her head and reached her free hand out to grasp his arm. “That’s— Spencer, none of this is your fault.” She furrowed her brow, and the crease between them was practically an abyss. “He sort of— cornered me on the patio. I hadn’t seen him in like, four years? And he was complimenting me, and asking about you, and then he tried to— well, he did kiss me actually. I shoved him off, and he didn’t like that, and he did his whole Owen thing. Told me that he’d cheated because I was uninteresting and worthless. That eventually you’d get bored of me, too. Just, um— generally awful shit.”
She took a deep breath, and the rest steamrolled off her tongue and crushed his heart. “And then he just— left. And he’d absolutely demolished my self-image in less than ten minutes, and I was embarrassed and angry at myself, and then you didn’t answer, but I was kind of glad you didn’t because I didn’t actually want to talk about it. And I thought I could just move on, but then I was being weird, and you knew something was wrong. And I just wanted to pretend like it never happened, but you kept pressing me on it, and I just— I didn’t want to have to explain it all to you because I was afraid that— that maybe he was right.”
Maggie dissolved back into the couch, an indication of the emotional exhaustion that came with reliving personal trauma. Spencer moved closer and mirrored the position of her body against the cushions, bringing his face close enough to bump their noses together. They breathed the same air for one noiseless minute before she finally met his eyes.
“I need you to understand that not one single thing he said to you— on New Year’s or ever— was right, in either sense of the word. None of it was factual, and none of it was acceptable.”
She nodded, and he continued, “You are the single best person that I know. You’re kind, brilliant, talented, and driven. You’re interesting, and wonderful, and lovely. You’re my absolute favorite person on the planet, and I will never get bored of you.”
He let his eyes trace over all the angles and curves of her face, and then raised his eyebrows. “He’s lucky that I respect you enough not to go over your head, because what I’d like to do is run a full background check, find any and every possible transgression that could be legally investigated, and then use that information to ruin his life.” He tilted his head in thought. “That or— get really jacked and then beat the shit out of him.”
“God, please don’t. As much as I’d love to watch that unfold,” she cupped his face in her hand, “you’re better than that. And he’s not worth either of our energies… I already wasted enough time dwelling on it and hurt you in the process.” She dropped her hand back to her lap with a sigh. “I spent so much time in that relationship that my brain didn’t know what to do with this good, healthy one.”
He took both of her hands in his, squeezing them tight and then pressing a kiss to the back of each. He wouldn’t commit assault, since she’d asked him not to. But he wasn’t going to let Owen taint any part of his life with Maggie.
“I’m so sorry that someone you loved made you think it was hard to love you. Because loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done.” He pressed his lips together and mused, “But I think maybe love has a learning curve. Especially when you’re used to being hurt. You have to unlearn all the bullshit. People will have you thinking that you have to water yourself down, or change who you are, or make yourself more palatable. I thought that, too.”
He brushed her hair back away from her face and waited for her to meet his eyes. “And then I met you. And you love all of it— all of me. All the rambling, all the quirks, and— even the dark parts, too.”
She sniffled a little, but really smiled for the first time that night. “What’s not to love about you?”
He smiled back. “I’m not sure if you realize that I fully reciprocate that feeling. What’s not to love about you? I have a hard time thinking of even one thing about you that I don’t absolutely adore.”
“Even when I act like a horrid bitch?” she mumbled, only half joking.
He leaned his head against the couch cushion. “A year ago, you stood on my doorstep and gave me forgiveness— after I’d been a complete asshole to you… I told you then that I wanted to learn how to love with you. I still do. In all the wonderful, and the weird, and the terrible. Even when we get it wrong.”
He shrugged, and then ran a soft fingertip down the bridge of her nose. “There is no one else I’d rather get it wrong with. Because when we get it right… it’s the closest I’ve ever felt to magic.”
Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears, and she brought both hands up to his face, holding him with an adoration that made his own eyes burn. “You can believe that you love me the most,” she whispered, “but just know that you’re wrong.”
He leaned forward to close the distance between them, pressing a kiss to her lips with a reverence that felt technicolor and devout and more magical than any trick he’d ever mastered.
“Agree to disagree.”
———
Permanent tags: @spacedikut @andiebeaword @averyhotchner @pinkdiamond1016 @shadyladyperfection @coffeeandendlesswords @justanothetfangirl @no-honey-no @ajeff855 @sapphic-prentiss @rexorangecouny @rainsong01 @blameitonthenight21 @moviequeen51 @90spumkin @reniescarlett @ncsls0515 @sturmmhond @takeyourleap-of-faith @saspencereid @calm-and-doctor @reidtheprettyboy @atabigail @ayo-cowbelly @muffin-cup @ssa-natalya-reid @wheelsup @reidingmelodies @this-is-gublerween @spenxerslut @reidemandweep @sonnydoesrandomshit @rigatonireid @luwheezey @joalsglasses @je-suis-prest-rachel @enbyfaerie @spencie-adams @honestimanormalfan @blurryreid @elldell1204 @babyhoneystvles @lost-in-the-stars03 @reiding-recs @minervaonmars @radtwinkie @crimeshowtrash @dayho3
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#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid imagine#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds self insert#homoose writes#lhalc
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HOW I RUN MY BLOG.
SPEED: What is speed? I’d like to believe things are done as quickly as possible. Written word says that I’m pretty quick about things, 1-3 days tops. But if you’ve ever actually heard be vocalize my “speed” then well. :fingerguns: I’m a lazy piece of shit. So, that being said, depending on motivation levels that I currently possess, that reveals the speed in which I operate things here. But a good baseline is still 1-3 days.
REPLIES: For starters, I use thread tracker for all the threads I currently possess. And if I haven’t replied to something then I sincerely apologize. I am not ignoring you. I either fucked up tracking it (which I’ve done before) or something happened to the tracker itself. I know it had some issues recently. Can’t recall if it got fixed or not, but I know for a fact it fucked some of my replies up.
On that note, if I have taken longer than seven (7) days to reply to something, hit me up. Let me know. Either the tracker or I fucked up and I need to be told. As stated above, I usually take 1-3 days to reply to things. So if it has been at least that long and you’re still waiting on me for something, chances are the above happened.
You’d never know it by looking at the lengths of most (all?) my roleplays here, but I am a novella roleplayer at heart. Love me some details, bro. Setting scenes, getting the atmosphere just right, making sure you know for a fact what I’m doing at any given moment. Why? I dunno. That has a story in and of itself that will not be disclosed here.
But don’t let that discourage you. I am adaptable and I can be flexible to what my partner needs/wants. Will I get carried away sometimes? Absolutely. Do you have to panic and try and match? Not at all. You do you. I’ll do me. We’ll work it out, don’t worry.
STARTERS: Don’t at me, I already know I’m stepping into a baited trap.
Starters are nice. However, they take time to write and think up. That being said, if I’m writing it, you best believe it's tailored to you specifically. Though I do enjoy at least a basic idea discussion beforehand so I know what direction I’m supposed to take this, I can wing that shit like no tomorrow. Again, not that anyone would know since I haven’t exactly, uh . . . Done it yet. Rest assured, I have the list. I will be doing something eventually.
You can also tag me in starters if you want. I’ll notice and I’ll get the idea and we can go from there. If it's just something you came up with outta the blue or it's from an ask or whatever, all fine by me. I’m pretty much open to any and all ideas.
INBOX: Ahahah, my inbox. Yes. That motherfucker. Look. I have at least one meme queued for every single day up until the first week of August. Not quite sure what possessed me to do this, but you know. At least you’ll always at least have one thing to choose from to send me every day. Old memes, new memes, random ass shit you just thought of at 3am because you figured I’d like it, send that in. I’ll answer it.
Sure, okay, yeah. I’ve currently got week old memes sitting in there right now. And there are at least month old memes sitting in my drafts that I haven’t posted yet. Doesn’t mean I won’t answer them. Just gotta wait for that good ol’ inspiration to kick in.
Oh, and I hear Tumblr still eats things. So if you’ve sent me something and its been quite a while and you haven’t seen an answer, chances are I never saw it. I sincerely apologize. Send it again. Send something new. Eventually, I’ll see it. Tumblr can’t eat everything, right?
SELECTIVITY: What is selectivity? I’d write with a sentient stuffed animal if it had a good enough idea. Yes, I’m very aware of what that sounds like. Does that make me any less of a person, a writer, because I said that? Fuck no. I am more than willing to give anyone and everyone a chance provided you aren’t cringey.
Oh but Asher, what does that last bit even mean? Don’t be fucking weird. That’s all I ask. If you’ve got an idea, come to me with it and we’ll work something out. Don’t have an idea? We’ll talk about it. I will roleplay with you. I am by no means selective.
WISHLIST: OH BOY! A WISHLIST!
Although, I suppose this would be where I’m supposed to give you some semblance of ideas or stories that I would like to give a shot at. :fingerguns: What is creativity? I will admit that I like to spout out about how creative I am and shit. However, put me on the spot and I will go blank and make myself a fucking liar.
I’ll give you some hints though. Love me some angst. I am one angsty boy. Do your absolute worst. It takes a lot to make me feel things and only two people have managed to get me to the point of tears thus far in my Tumblr career. If you think you got what it takes, bring it on.
I’m still exploring Reno’s drug habit(s). So I guess that’s sort of a wish list idea?
I want an excuse to be sadistic. My fucking name is literally sadistic-second and I cannot recall an opportunity in which I have gotten to display that true nature. I think I’ve hinted at it before? I know there are a couple shorts that I’ve written floating around. I think you can find them under “Asher writes” and uh . . . Fuck, what was that other one I wrote recently? “Raw meat” brings it up in the search so there’s that, too.
So those are kind of wish list ideas? I guess?
HONEST NOTE: :dogekek: Bold of you to assume I have anything else left in me to put here. Nah, but like it was 2am when I wrote this. And you’re seeing it now at whatever the fuck time my queue put it at. Early morning, I know that.
I’ve done a lot of changing, a lot of growing up in the last year or so. Big life changes happened and well. You gotta adjust or ya kinda sink. And boy did I sink. But I’m back now. I’m better. I’m getting the hang of things once again.
No, but like what the fuck is supposed to go here? Oh, wait. I have an idea.
You guys want a better way to communicate with me? Ask for my discord. Tumblr messages are great and all, but uh . . . You’re more likely to get more out of me on discord than you are Tumblr. Why? I dunno. I’m always on discord. I’m kind of on Tumblr? Granted, I’m always on both places, but discord is where its at, man.
TAGGED BY: @that-turk-laney
TAGGING: Uh. Steal it, fam
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Cornelia Street (8/9)
(+ an interlude i thought of after reading “Reeni”s comment. Idk who you are bc it was a guest comment, but thank you!)
A/N: oh my god they were quarantined
yes. It’s one of those fics.
AU, obvs
I’m posting as I go and idk how many parts this is going to be, likely won’t be very long but I literally don’t know what I’m doing and should i be starting yet another WIP? definitely not but fuck it lets fucking go
Title is from T-swizzles Lover album, I’m OBSESSED
Summary: Three years ago, Kurt and Blaine went on a disaster of a date and never quite got off on the right foot. Now, just before they graduate from NYADA, there’s a national outbreak and they’re both self-quarantined in a mutual friend’s apartment.
Read On AO3
On Tumblr: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7
Interlude
QueenJCedes replied to your story!
Kurt bites back a dopey grin when he opens Mercedes’s snapchat message. It’s a photo of her looking dubiously at the camera, a single eyebrow pointed up, with the caption: Quarantine buddies, huh?
He snaps back a quick photo of himself, eyes rolled upwards. What can I say, he won me over.
She sends back just a message this time—
Mercedes: Yeah, clearly. Mercedes: Head over feet, Alanis style!
—and then a bitmoji of Kurt falling through the air.
Kurt: I mean… You’re not wrong Kurt: He’s sort of everything Kurt: AND a fantastic kisser
Mercedes: OMG REALLY? I was just teasing, but if this is legit, I’m so happy for you!!!
He can’t help but giggle excitedly as he types a reply.
Kurt: Yeah. me too.
*
New Snap from setroutymouth
Blaine rolls his eyes but still can't school the smile on his face into a neutral expression. This is going to be a lot, he already knows, but nevertheless, he swipes his thumb across the screen to unlock his phone.
Sam’s pacing through Mercedes’s childhood home in Ohio, phone in selfie mode, already rambling at a hundred miles a minute that Blaine’s sure he cut off a few words.
“—cedes just showed me Kurt’s snapchat story and I AM LOSING IT! Did something happen between you two? Oh my god, something totally happened, didn’t it!? BLAINE PLEASE TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED MERCEDES WON’T TELL ME AND I ALREADY FINISHED EVERY BINGABLE SHOW ON NETFLI—”
As expected, it was a lot. But still not enough to burst his happy little bubble. He doesn’t think anything could, at this point.
Through his smiles, he snaps back a picture of himself shrugging, trying to look as clueless as possible, and adds the caption: I have no idea what you’re talking about.
It’s not even a full moment before he gets another video back.
“BLAINE ANDERSON I AM BEGGING YOU—”
Blaine locks his phone shut, mostly because he knows it’ll drive Sam crazy. He can respond later. Right now, there are more important matters at hand.
*
Blaine’s in the kitchen, putting away what was left of the carton of Cookie Two-Step ice cream they’d demolished while watching another Netflix romcom, when Kurt’s phone lights up.
New Message: From: Adam I saw your sc story You know you could just be *my* quarantine buddy When are you coming?
Kurt actually growls as he types out a reply. How did he put up with this for nearly three years?
New Message: To: Adam I’m not.
Kurt. We both know how this ends.
Not this time. I meant it. We’re done.
Okay, whatever you say I’ll check in with you later When you change your mind
Kurt doesn’t even warrant that with a response, he’s too seething mad to even formulate one with enough bite to put Adam in his place.
But then the door opens, Blaine’s beaming at him, and Adam is completely irrelevant.
“I was just thinking,” Blaine muses aloud, slipping under the covers and snuggling up next to him in a way that Kurt knows will be way too easy for him to get used to. “Do you remember our Junior year when we had to partner up during Stagefighting for that Musical Choregraphy project?”
Kurt explodes into laughter. “Uh, yeah, that was pretty ridiculous. I remember hearing from Matthew that you said I dance like a pigeon that’d been chewed up and spit out by a cat.”
“What!?” Blaine exclaims, shocked. “I swear I never said that. Though, I do remember going on a tangent about how I didn’t know how I was supposed to concentrate when you insisted on wearing those pants with that tight fitted shirt and…”
He trails off, and Kurt can feel color rising to his cheeks. “Oh, that explains it, actually.”
“Explains what?”
“Matthew. He had a huge crush on you.”
Blaine’s eyes double in size. “He what!?”
Kurt lets out a chuckle. “You seriously didn’t know?”
“No! Nobody told me!”
“That’s not how crushes work, Blaine,” Kurt says through a stream of giggles.
“Okay, why does it make more sense for me to just take a wild guess about how people feel about me instead of them telling me, or acting on it? Like, if you hadn’t have kissed me earlier, I would have never known how you felt and kissed you back.”
Kurt opens his mouth to argue that logic, but… he seriously cannot get over how oblivious Blaine is. “So you’re saying that if I hadn't accidentally kissed you then you really wouldn’t have known how I feel?”
“Yeah. And I would most definitely not have acted on my crush.”
“Aw,” Kurt teases. “You used to have a crush on me. That’s embarrassing.”
“And you watch too much Parks and Rec.”
“I’m gonna kiss you again, now,” he announces.
Blaine just grins, eyes crinkling at the sides. “I think that’s a great idea.”
There wasn’t much of a choice because of the shelter in place, but based on the bright spark forming in his chest when their skin meets, Kurt could definitely get used to this living situation.
*
Blaine finally pulls away reluctantly. If he could stay attached to Kurt forever, stay connected to him, he would. He roams his eyes over Kurt’s face, like he could memorize it if he really, really tried, and notices a scar just above his eyebrow. It would be invisible to anyone else, anyone who wasn’t trying to intentionally map out the image of Kurt.
The scar doesn’t bother Blaine, but the idea that someone ever hurt Kurt bad enough to leave physical evidence that refuses to leave tugs achingly at his heart. Instinctively, he takes his hand from where it rests on the side of Kurt’s face, and gently traces over the scar with the pad of his index finger soothingly, as if it hasn’t been healed for years.
“Sophomore year… two years ago,” Kurt’s murmuring refocuses his attention.
That was a hazy time for Blaine, but he does have a vague memory of hearing from a friend of a friend that Kurt spent some time in the hospital, and he definitely remembers his rival-slash-partner being missing from their stage acting class for a while.
“What happened?” He asks.
Kurt is so calm, so steady when he answers. It leaves him in awe. “It was when all those gay bashings were happening…” he pauses, and Blaine immediately feels sick to his stomach because he knows where this is heading. “I was on my way home from school and saw these guys attacking some teenager, and… I had to help. I ran over and started shoving them, I guess. I didn’t really know what I was doing, but the kid got away. I didn’t. The last thing I remember after that was what I think might’ve been a brick hitting my head.”
“Jesus,” Blaine breathes. His initial reaction is to say I’m sorry, but something tells him that Kurt isn’t sorry about it at all. Instead, he says, “I had no idea. That–that was really brave of you.”
Kurt snorts out a laugh. “I’m glad you think so. I spent most of my hospital stay being berated by my dad about how irresponsible it was.”
“No,” Blaine shakes his head. “If anything it was over-responsible.”
“I’m not convinced that’s a word.”
“Me neither,” Blaine says breathlessly, amber gaze fixed on the boy lying across from him.
He really just can’t help but pull them together again.
Blaine thinks Kurt is opening his mouth to deepen the kiss and, well, he’s certainly not going to complain. Until Kurt sucks in a deep breath and turns his head, chuckling through his yawn.
“Sorry, I really thought I could hold that yawn in.”
Blaine lets out a laugh of his own and glances over at the analog clock on the nightstand. “It’s only midnight, you grandpa,” he teases.
“Hey! Doing nothing all day is seriously draining.”
“I wouldn’t call what we did nothing,” Blaine says cheekily, causing Kurt to flush.
“I’m going to shower before I head to bed,” Kurt responds, sitting up and lifting his arms up over his head and exposing an inch or so of his midriff.
Blaine is trying so hard not to stare. Nevertheless, he can’t help it as he watches Kurt saunter off to the restroom.
He tosses his head back onto the pillow with a satisfied grin on his face. Global crisis it may be, but if he got Kurt Hummel out of it… he could complain about worse things.
A bright ding from his right interrupts his thoughts. Blaine turns his head and sees the screen of Kurt’s phone light up, resting there on the nightstand.
He’s not snooping. He’s really not. It’s just sort of instinct to look in the direction of the sounds.
Then, he sees the succession of messages that make his stomach churn.
New Message: From: Adam Hurry and finish up with the rebound already I miss you Text me when you’re on your way
He stares at the screen for a few seconds before it fades back to black, feeling absolutely sick to his stomach. Of course Kurt was going to run back to his ex the first chance he got. It’s exactly what he did three years ago and Blaine was just kidding himself. This was all too good to be true.
Turns out it wasn’t.
Before he knows it, he’s grabbing his duffel bag and dialing Quinn’s number.
He’s always welcomed there and New Haven isn’t all that far, after all.
Part 9
#klaine#glee#kurt hummel#blaine anderson#klaine fanfiction#wow look at me im writing!#cornelia street
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(i already tried to sent this message so apologies if I seem overbearing I swear it's just to make sure tumblr isn't eating anons again) Hello! I love how you write and I would love a "hiding an injury" for dororo, possibly with Dororo being the one injured
@badthingshappenbingo
Hi! Sorry for the delay! I received your first ask oops but i just needed some time to get used to writing dororo (this is my first time for this fandom after all). I hope this is fine?
Trope: Hiding an Injury
Fandom: Dororo (2019)
ao3 link
First Red
Hyakkimaru was strangely obsessed with naming colours lately but with how he reacted to getting his senses back previously, Dororo wasn't surprised. However, that didn't make it any less annoying to her when he pointed at a flower for the hundredth time that day and asked, "Dororo, is this red?"
"This is the first time he's able to see, right?" Genjirou asked, laughing. "I think we should let him have his moment."
Dororo sighed loudly as she looked at her Aniki squatting on the floor and scrutinising the flower closely. She still couldn't help her annoyance. The three of them were on the way back to the refugee village from getting her father's hidden treasure, of which they each carried a bag. So they had a ton of valuable stuff. With the war increasingly taking a toll on Daigo's land, who knows how many people are desperate to get this treasure in their hands?
It was a good thing Genjirou was around to help as well. There was literally no way Dororo and Hyakkimaru could drag this much stuff back to the village. According to the other refugees, Genjirou was a trusted friend and one of their strongest men. So far, they were proven to be right.
The unforeseen troublemaker was none other than Hyakkimaru himself. He was constantly pulled away by different sights, and when they were out of Daigo's land and were seeing more beautiful things like green hills and colourful flower fields, Dororo completely lost her Aniki to those distractions.
To make matters worse, however… She gripped her robe tighter to herself.
While trying to get the treasure, she had slipped while trying to climb the pile and gotten a nick from a bejeweled dagger (why on earth was that even there?!) on her back. She had deliberately stood where the other two couldn't see her back until the sun set and she was safe to mend her clothes and patch herself up.
It really should have been a simple affair with the injury being so shallow. She started the next day without a thought about the wound but it was starting to burn and twinge under her clothing. She couldn't see the wound no matter how she twisted her body but when she reached back to touch it, it wasn't a lot of blood. She knew immediately what it was. Years spent around bandits had taught her this meant her wound was infected.
Usually, she wouldn't mind just fixing the wound herself but, unlike previously, Hyakkimaru could now see exactly what she was doing and she'd have to explain herself, which she'd really rather not do. It would be pathetic to admit to Hyakkimaru that she got the wound from a stupid fall.
But there was an even bigger reason why she's not doing that: Genjirou would see her.
Aniki already knew she was a girl. Somehow or another, blind as he was back then, he still managed to figure out she was a girl. But Hyakkimaru was not a blather mouth so it was fine. Who else can he tell things to anyway?
Genjirou on the other hand… He was popular in the village, and he was talkative. In this trip alone, Dororo had learned more about Genjirou and the other refugees than she had in the week she spent with them before heading out.
There was no way she was letting him find out she was a girl.
So she kept her mouth shut. As the day dragged on, her wound throbbed away, draining her energy bit by bit.
***
The mid-day sun was blazing above the travelling group, and the sweltering weather was already unbearable, yet somehow, Dororo's wound felt hotter still, swelling to a worrying throb. Even the tiniest movement on her part would set her robe scratching agonisingly against her raw flesh.
She had also drunk quite a bit of water but somehow she still felt endlessly parched. Maybe it was because of how she panted with each and every exhausting step she took. Her chest was heaving and it occasionally stuttered, giving way to fatigue for a second before starting again.
Things were uncomfortable to say the least. In fact, Dororo was lightheaded and feverish with pain. She just hoped she'd make it through today and get some much needed rest.
"Dororo…"
Her eyes snapped up to look at her Aniki's brown ones. It was still slightly weird not to see wooden eyes when she looked at her Aniki.
"Are you alright? Your face is… white."
Playfully, Dororo rolled her eyes. "Putting your new words to use so quickly?" she teased in an attempt to dodge the question.
Hyakkimaru with his eyes back was far more expressive than he used to be. Right now, there was the slightest tinge of pride in his eyes. However, that was quickly replaced again with worry. "There is something wrong."
"What is?" Genjirou asked as he slowed his pace to match the other two.
Internally, Dororo groaned.
"Dororo looks very white."
"Oh right, he does," Genjirou said as he knelt down and held her by the shoulders. "Are you feeling ill?"
Scowling, Dororo shoved him and backed away. As she did, a wave of nausea overcame her and she had to take a few moments to compose herself as the feeling faded slowly away. "I'm fine," she said as nonchalantly as possible. "Just a little tired."
"Should we rest?" Genjirou suggested. "You are a child after all. Of course you would be tired."
A wave of anger surged through Dororo. "No need," she snapped as she tossed her bag from one shoulder to the other. She felt a sharp pain on her back and valiantly held back a wince. "Let's continue walking."
She marched on without them. Compliantly, the other two followed behind. However, as they continued on, Dororo could feel her feet beginning to drag harder and harder against the sand, nearly tripping several times in the uneven ground. Several times, she caught her eyelids closed for at least 5 seconds, and sometimes she would feel her stomach lurch with the urge to puke. But she kept it in and trudged on.
Suddenly, Hyakkimaru let out a barely audible gasp that hitched on his throat. "Dororo," he said, catching up with her. "There's red on your shirt."
She looked down at her side. Sure enough, there was a dark patch on her green robe. The wound must have burst open with her excessive movement.
Genjirou yelled, "That's blood!"
The look of alarm on Hyakkimaru's face was strange. He rushed forward and his trembling hands hovered over Dororo, not daring to touch her as he just looked at the patch of dark dark red seeping through her shirt.
It was then that it occurred to Dororo that he had probably never seen blood before. How ironic to have so much blood upon your hands but only just seeing it for the first time.
"Look, I'm fine. This is nothing big," Dororo said.
"Let me take a look at that," Genjirou said, reaching over.
Immediately, she slapped the hand away. "No!" Her vision began to blackout but she held her gaze in place in a feign. Her vision returned in spots and she realised she was swaying dangerously.
Silently, Hyakkimaru touched Dororo's forehead with his hand. His cool palms shook ever so slightly. "You are warm," he said. "You're not okay."
"I'm fine!" she insisted as she pulled away from the other two and charged ahead. However, as she walked, she tripped on thin air and suddenly the world was beginning to tilt violently to the side. Her sight went dark even as she felt herself fall and hit the ground. The ground vibrated as loud footsteps came towards her.
She opened her mouth to insist that she was fine. But her consciousness faded as she heard Hyakkimaru's panicked voice call out her name.
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