#alright time to finally eat something & then go sleep (having one of those 'oh god its midnight on a weekday' kinds of nights it seems)
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Hi hi, im wicked sleepy right now but my vote is Ilta D6! If no go on that Spectre with E3 sounds pretty cute too!
You're getting both! Congrats!
#oc#original character#arknights#asks#ask meme#my art#digital art#i would never pass an opportunity to draw ilta looking grumpy + that expression with specter seemed like it'd look extremely cute#so you get both of them#also specter is in that one summer outfit skade drew her in a couple times earlier this year#bc its like unbelievably pretty and i kept intending to draw her in it all summer but never did#alright time to finally eat something & then go sleep (having one of those 'oh god its midnight on a weekday' kinds of nights it seems)
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A 1k fic prompt for you! How about Ed being really sure that his "punishment" when he gets back to the ship will be way worse than just the crew making him wear a sack and a bell, and Stede being sad that Ed was willing to come back even with the assumption that he was going to get, like, keelhauled?
Oh this one is JUICY, I love it. Ed baby please accept that you don't deserve to be hurt
--
The room was empty when Ed woke up.
He tried to let himself drift back to awareness slowly. He felt better than he had since he’d been dead - something about being back on the Revenge, everyone properly together again. Something about having Stede with him again.
They’d fallen asleep in the bed together. Stede had insisted on it, since Ed was hurt and all. They’d been proper gentlemen about it, fell asleep with just their little fingers linked.
The crew hadn’t objected when Stede had turned back up with Ed in tow. They’d been expecting it, actually, it looked like, and that was…troubling.
Stede had said he would talk to them when he got up, to discuss their conditions for allowing Ed back on the ship. He must have wanted Ed to be able to sleep in a bit.
Ed was grateful for that. He didn’t know how well he’d be able to sleep for the next…little while. Depended on how angry they were at him, he guessed. He got up slowly, reminding his sore body that these aches and pains would probably feel like heaven compared to how he’d feel tomorrow.
The crew had been expecting him back. He’d hurt all of them. They would be wanting revenge, naturally.
Ed tried not to worry too much about it. He’d been through floggings before, those rarely killed you. Keel-haulings didn’t kill you all the time. Chopping off his gun hand, or a leg - that was something you could live through.
“Oh, Ed, good morning!” That was Stede, poking his head in the door, and Ed gave him a tight, nervous smile. “Just been talking to the crew. Jim and Frenchie were voted to be the ones to deliver your conditions, does that sound alright?”
Ed nodded bravely. “Sure.”
“Great.” Stede gave him a quick smile. “We’ll get this business sorted, and then we’ll have breakfast. Be right back!”
Stede was, Ed thought, being very optimistic about Ed’s ability to eat breakfast once all was said and done. Great, now he had to worry about disappointing Stede if he was hurt too badly to keep anything down.
Ed folded his hands in front of him as Stede led Jim and Frenchie into the cabin, trying to look appropriately cowed.
“Right.” Frenchie’s polite smile did not reach his eyes, and Jim was glaring at him.
This did not bode well.
“We just have a few big things, really,” Frenchie started.
“And a lot of little things,” Jim said. “Like no shooting anyone, or pointing guns at anyone, including yourself, and -”
“Ed knows all that stuff already,” Stede interrupted mildly. “You don’t have to tell him the little ones, he knows.”
“The big ones, then,” Frenchie said impressively. “One: for the duration of your probationary period, you have to wear a sackcloth.”
“The ancient symbol of penance.” Ed nodded seriously. He could accept that with grace.
“And you can’t be sneaking up on people,” Jim added. “So you have to wear a bell.”
“Pete already found you a little kitty collar,” Stede said helpfully.
“No, yeah, I can do that,” Ed said. “Sackcloth. Bell. Got it.”
Here it comes, he thought nervously.
“And finally,” Frenchie said seriously, “you’re on potato-peeling duty. All week.”
Ed stared. “That’s…it?”
Jim shrugged. “I think some people also wanted a public apology? So that too, I guess.”
“No, I mean…” Ed shifted nervously from foot to foot. Maybe he was just being stupid, and they assumed he already knew the flogging was coming? “How many lashes do you want? Fifty? A hundred? Because if it’s more than that, I -”
“Ed,” Stede interrupted, and Ed realized that Jim and Frenchie were just looking at him blankly, and Stede looked absolutely horrified. “Good God, Ed, no one’s going to beat you.”
Ed looked at Jim and Frenchie for confirmation.
“No, yeah, absolutely not,” Frenchie said. “We’re not doing that.”
“Yeah, no,” Jim agreed. “I mean, I’m still pissed at you. Shitty captain. Shitty behavior.”
“Yeah, I know,” Ed mumbled, looking at the ground.
“But,” Jim shrugged, “like, listen, man, when you’re about to beat someone’s head in and they say finally like you did, you don’t feel good about that, y’know? I already beat you to death once. I don’t wanna kill you.”
“Yeah, mostly we kinda just want to make sure you’re not going to go all crazy on us again,” Frenchie added.
Stede was very quiet as Jim and Frenchie brought Ed the sackcloth onesie Wee John had prepared for him and a collar with a bell on it. Like, yeah, this was kind of embarrassing, but compared to what he’d been expecting? Fuck, he’d take the sackcloth any day.
“Here, let me.” Stede had given Ed privacy as he got changed, but he stepped up close to him to fasten the collar around his neck. Ed tilted his chin up, baring his throat to him without even hesitating.
The collar was tight but not horribly uncomfortable, and it made a merry little jingle every time he moved. Ed thought he’d keep it, even after his probation was over. For…reasons.
“Hey.” Ed frowned as Stede pulled back, concerned by the downward slant to his mouth. Ed was feeling positively jovial; Stede just looked upset. “What’s the matter?”
Stede shook his head minutely. “You agreed to come back,” he said softly, “even though you thought you were going to be hurt?”
“I mean, yeah.” Ed frowned. “Kinda deserve that, anyway -”
“You do not,” Stede said firmly. “You don’t deserve to be hurt. You’ve been through enough, for fuck’s sake. You deserve to feel safe.”
“I do,” Ed promised, a bit surprised by how much he meant it. “I’m just surprised they don’t…you know, they don’t hate me.”
“They never hated you,” Stede promised, giving the bell a little flick with his finger. “Not at all, Ed. You broke their trust, but that’s it.”
Huh.
Trust was something that could be won back. Ed liked the idea of that.
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Just Helping You Sleep.
Miguel O’Hara x AFAB reader (GN pronouns)
TAGS/INCLUDED: Lactation (not really nsfw though) * Dad!Miguel * Miguel is super smitten * if he’s Spider-Man is up to you * fluff * au where he had Gabriella normally so she isn’t literally dead
A/N: this is my first ever tumblr post so please have mercy LOL. What a first post am I right gang? Anyways happy reading ❤️
New account cause I screwed up 😭
Miguel has had one thing on his mind lately.
Your tits.
It was weird as hell, considering the situation, but it was true. He couldn’t get those damn things out of his head no matter how hard he tried.
He’d be busy at work, then boom. Titty thoughts.
You’d had his baby recently, which didn’t help (and was also the cause of the recent boob thought influxes). The baby was a beautiful girl and light of Miguel’s life, Gabriella.
You were breastfeeding Gabri, which was the main cause. You not only exposed them more often, but it also made your boobs larger than they were originally.
Miguel was honestly pretty ashamed of getting horny of you merely feeding your child, but here he was.
One day, Miguel was sitting on the couch, watching the news with a beer in one hand and Gabriella in the other. She was snug against him and content, ‘till she began crying.
You had raced over to get her, cooing things like “Oh no, what’s wrong, baby?” And “Are Papa’s stupid news stories boring you to tears, my poor thing?”
You swooped the little girl from his arms, and popped your shirt open in record time to feed her. Miguel nearly dropped his beer.
You noticed his staring and asked if he was alright, and he just said something akin to “Yeah, Gabi’s just so cute when she eats.” Which was true, just not the reason he was staring so intently.
The second a drop of milk dribbled down your boob and down towards your torso, Miguel began to sweat in his wife-beater and had to literally leave the room.
Miguel has caught himself having extremely weird thoughts as of late. A lot of the time, he realizes he’s actually envious of his 3 month old daughter for being able to be that up close and personal with your chest.
Another one is when that drip of milk dribbled down your chest, he had to actually stop himself from swiping a finger under it to catch it on the pad of his finger, and taste it.
He had absolutely no idea what was happening.
He currently was sat on yours and his shared bed, doing some work on his iPad. His glasses were sliding down the bridge of his nose, so he pushes them up. You walk in from just finally getting your daughter down, palming your boobs uncomfortably and looking around the room.
He looks up from his tablet, “What’s wrong, querido?”
“I can’t find that stupid breast pump, and Gabriella didn’t empty me before she fell asleep. It fuckin’ hurts.”
He saves his work before shutting his tablet off, getting up from his spot to help you look around for the pump to alleviate your pain.
You sigh exhaustedly, “I swear to god if it’s in her room and I have to go in there and risk waking her up-“
Miguel sits back on the bed when he can’t find it and for some reason, his mind decided that yeah, this was a great thing to blurt out;
“Do you want me to help?”
You stop what you’re doing and turn to look at him comically slowly. You stare at him, “Eh?”
Miguel pales in the face when he realizes what he actually just fucking said, what he suggested.
“I just meant- uhm- Amor I didn’t mean-“
He shut up before he could make things worse than he already had.
You walk over and sit on the edge of the bed, staring at him, “Did you… are you suggesting you drink me dry?”
Miguel lets out a loud groan, “Don’t say it like that, cariño!” He covers his face with his hands.
You just snicker and crawl up to your spot on the bed. You shrug, “We can give it a shot. I don’t see why not. I won’t be able to sleep like this.”
“Are you serious?” He whips his head up to stare at you. His gaze only grows more shocked when you slip your shirt off, over your head.
You lean back and rest your head on the pillow. Miguel could see you really were tired, so he decided to just dive right in, crude as that sounds.
He leant down and latched on, and hoooolllllyyy shit man. It felt so good. It was unbelievable. He’d fantasized about this for weeks on end, and it was finally happening.
Hell, the milk was perfect too. It was in his top 5 beverages for sure. Not because it was from his beautiful and lovely spouse who he loves more than anything, his beautiful and lovely spouse who could breathe and he would propose to you all over again.
You let out a long breath from the relief and tangle your fingers in his hair. He lets out a low groan at the action.
He reaches one of his hands up to squeeze at the breast he wasn’t sucking, and it fucking dribbled out milk. He could have came on the spot. He immediately unlatched from you to catch it on his tongue.
He switches to the other breast, pretty confident he had emptied your other one. He lets out a loud groan against you when you tug his hair slightly. You let out a sigh yourself. It was super pleasant, having a big hunky man sucking you dry.
Miguel kept on working, focused on mostly helping you get to sleep. Sure he was getting unbelievably horny, but he knew you really just wanted your rest. Having a tiny baby who clung to you like Gabriella did was exhausting.
He pulls back and uses his big hands to feel your breasts, making sure they’re empty enough to let you get some comfortable sleep. Once he’s sure they are, he looks up at you with a lovey dovey smile. You hold back a snicker as you raise a thumb to wipe away the remaining milk around his mouth.
“All better?” He asks. You could feel his excitement pressed up against you under the covers and he noticed. He shook his head and pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Don’t worry about it, Hermosa. It’ll go away. Just get your sleep, Mhm?”
You nod sleepily and cuddle against his side. He lets your head rest on his shoulder as he pulls the cover over both of you.
He looks at you with the sweetest gaze, “You’re so beautiful.”
You smile tiredly at him and press a kiss to his cheek, then lay your head back on his shoulder. You felt yourself drifting off to sleep, not as uncomfortable as before.
He mumbles,
“You will let me do that during sex though, right?”
You burst out in giggles, nodding and kissing him.
A/N: this was my first tumblr post ever so please give feedback if you want!! Thanks so much for reading ❤️
+ I did use spanishdict for the Spanish nicknames Miguel used, please lmk if I used them wrong or anything so I can fix them !
(the normal shit, don’t copy or redistribute this pretty please)
#miguel x reader#atsv miguel#spiderman atsv#miguel o'hara#miguel ohara#miguel o hara#miguel spiderman#miguel x y/n#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel x you#atsv x reader#miguel fluff#Miguel O’Hara fluff#dad!miguel
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The Smartest Dumb Person She's Ever Met (Shules Shawn Genius Reveal Fic)
“Shawn, this is ridiculous.” Even as she says it, Jules knows her smile completely undercuts her protests as Shawn sets out more and more and more plates of food.
“Babe, I told you, we are finding our new go-to takeout spot tonight,” Shawn insists. “We’ll just dump all the leftovers on Gus! He’ll love it, maybe even more than he loves watching debates about rash cream side-effects.”
“I don’t think he loves watching those, Shawn.”
“Then why does he spend hours on it every few months?”
“Well, maybe, because he has a day job. We’re not all so lucky to be employed by spirits and whims,” Jules teases lightheartedly as Shawn sits down and starts putting together a sampler plate. “Speaking of which, we didn’t talk about what I should expect from living with a psychic.”
“Aside from constant swooning and daily hair updates?”
“Aside from those.”
“Well, Jules, I’m afraid I can’t tell you what to expect, because I don’t know either.” Shawn hands her the plate, and sniffs. “Truth be told, this is uh… this is the first time I’ve moved in with somebody.”
Jules smiles softer. “Mine too. But I just mean… how often do you have visions outside of cases? And what about your dreams, are those affected?”
“No, not as far as I know- but I have been told I talk in my sleep.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
“Because you know me.” He kisses her before dishing up his own plate. “But uh, yeah, no psychic vision dreams for the most part.. … Well, sometimes, but not usually. And I can control the visions at home, don’t even worry another second about it.”
“Really? Because I thought you were completely beholden to them at all times.”
“Ehhhh… more or less.”
“Shawn.”
“Alright, so maybe a minor one here and there- but I’ll save the big stuff for the cases. No dramatic psych-outs in the living room.”
“Thank you.” Jules takes a bite of one of the various dishes on her plate, and coughs. “Oh my god, they used so much black pepper!”
“Let me try- hck! Oh my- ekch! That is just stupid, how much there is-”
“Get some water-”
“On it, on it, holy-”
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Shawn doesn’t have psychic visions or dreams, just like he promised.
But he has something else going on.
Jules starts noticing it after the first few days of lovey-dovey, disgustingly happy mushiness finally starts to settle into domesticity. She sits at the table and Shawn has a big stack of toaster waffles already drenched in syrup ready for both of them, even though he’s not a natural early riser, because it’s a day they both have off and it’s more Brunch than Lunch, and Shawn… isn’t eating.
His head is tilted, his eyes narrowed, and that usually means he’s having a vision. But this morning he’s just barely reading the newspaper- Jules is sure he’s not actually reading it, his eyes aren’t moving right for that, in fact they’re barely moving at all. They’re narrows and still, taking the paper in as one whole picture, probably absorbing nothing.
And she starts to realize he gets that look a lot, with no visions following them. He gets it when the delivery guy drops off their food, he gets it when the news comes on, he gets it when Lassiter comes over to drop off something Jules left in his car during a stakeout, and again and again and again.
And then it just goes away, and he doesn’t say anything. And she assumes, well, it’s a minor vision. He has them a lot more often than she had previously thought, clearly. Small, apparently unimportant visions that he just brushes off.
And then he tells her that they should stop getting takeout from the place two blocks away because the delivery guy is about to quit from being overworked. There’s no fanfare, no hand to his head, no sharp inhale- just an offhand statement that slips out right after he closes the front door.
It’s not the first time she’s heard him make a random prediction, not even close. But something about the understated nature of it makes her pause, and after a second she asks, “What makes you say that?”
“You’ve seen the state of that car they have him driving, it's one rough road away from falling to pieces. Plus his shoes are completely tattered, and his jeans, basically everything that’s not given to him as part of the uniform, but they’re also all stiff still- he just bought them and they’re already wrecked because of how many deliveries he’s making. That’d piss anyone off enough to quit, especially at his age.”
She hadn’t noticed that- at least, not all of it. She knew the car was a piece of junk, and the clothes were tattered, but thinking back she sees what Shawn means by them still looking stiff and out-of-the-box new. And somehow, somehow, she feels like if she points out that she hadn’t caught onto all of that herself, something… big, would just… slip away.
“That’s a shame, I like him,” is all she says instead. “He has a nice smile.”
“He just got his braces off, he’d probably literally skip for joy if he heard you say that,” Shawn says, handing over her food. Again, no fanfare, no theatrics- he just says it, unthinkingly, almost distracted as he digs into his honey cashew shrimp and chicken.
It’s different.
It has to be a vision, but it’s different.
And again, Jules gets a feeling that pointing that out would break… something, about this moment. So she makes a note, and tucks it away in her mind, and hopes she’s able to remember to follow up later.
“Good for him.”
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Shawn talks in his sleep most nights, as it turns out.
It’s not very comprehensible majority of the time- usually all she can make out, when she’s even awake to hear it, is Shawn mumbling something to or about Gus. At first it’s a little offensive, frankly, that her boyfriend dreams about his best friend constantly and she never hears her own name, but it quickly becomes just… normal. Like most of Shawn and Gus’s codependency. Some days she feels like she’s dating both of them, just a little bit. It bothers her less than it probably should, certainly less than she would expect if she was an outside observer. Gus was Shawn’s original rock, his strongest pillar, his tightest tether, and she knew she’d never truly be able to match that even before she and Shawn got together.
She should probably ask Gus about some of Shawn’s more daily psychic dealings, actually- he’s known Shawn for their whole loves, so he must have lots of advice for her about how to deal with it. And how to deal with the rest of Shawn’s… quirks. Which she loves about him, she truly does, as messy and intrusive as some of those quirks are in their lives. Psychic visions, murder scene dates, fearing that Shawn’s going to get himself killed with his daily recklessness. She had kissed him on that Canadian overlook expecting all of it, thinking she had finally come to learn everything she needed to learn about him.
And then, all those months and years later, she’s laying in bed unable to sleep and reading a book to try and calm down when Shawn mumbles out something shockingly understandable about the case they’re both working.
She freezes, as though her silent eye movements while reading could somehow disturb the moment.
“Doesn’ ma’ s’nse,” Shawn mumbles in his sleep. “Th’ t’re tr’cks…”
Jules slowly lowers her book.
Shawn rolls over, facing her now, still fast asleep, lightly snoring. Jules watches him like a deer caught in headlights.
“T’res don’ ma’ch,” Shawn mumbles out. “Tr’d too w’de…” His brow pinches, his lips pursing a little. There’s a long beat of silence.
Jules holds her breath. Like with the delivery boy, something about this moment just feels… big. Important.
Shawn’s face smooths out. “M’gn’ts.”
Magnets.
Jules thinks about the case that they’ve been working together all week, a hit-and-run. They’ve got one witness who got a whole license plate number, they’ve got the plate number matching a car of that exact description, and the only problem is they’ve also got a suspect who vehemently denies ever driving that route in his entire life. And like always when things seem straightforward, Shawn had declared that he wasn’t convinced they had the right guy.
But that doesn’t help her figure out what magnets have to do with anything. After a moment she doesn’t have to figure it out on her own, because Shawn makes a soft noise of sleep-laden realization.
“Th’ s’x an’ th’ n’ne.” His hand twitches, roughly tracing out the numbers on the sheets. “Fl’p ‘em…”
Magnets.
License plate number magnets. Moveable, alterable plate numbers.
“S’me car m’ke, s’me num’er, diff’ren’ t’re.” There’s a note of satisfaction, even in the sleep-slurred mess that is Shawn’s voice. He smiles a little in his sleep, and moments later… he’s snoring.
Jules sits, book almost falling out of her nonexistent grip, stunned into silence.
Shawn just cracked the case. In his sleep. With logic and authentic detective deduction.
… But that’s not possible.
Shawn doesn’t work like that. He doesn’t pay attention to clues, reason out possibilities, connect dots. He receives visions, he relays them, he makes connections with the help of his abilities. And maybe she’s seen some times that contradict tha belief, but- but it’s just not how he works. She would know.
… Maybe he does get psychic dreams. Maybe he just doesn’t know he gets them? But there was a thought process there, and a natural one for it to come to him so easily in sleep. She’d heard every step of the process, followed him on each conclusion.
… But the tire treads not matching? Jules relaxes, closing her book and turning off the lamp. That had to be psychic. No-one else noticed or said anything about tire treads through the investigation. How would he even pick out and remember that detail, anyway, without spiritual guidance? He’d seen only photos of the crime scene, and not great ones at that- darn trainees.
… Psychic dreams. Has to be.
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Jules, look at that.” Shawn smiles and points at the ducks in the pond they’re having a picnic by. “There’s a bunch of baby ducks over there.”
Jules gasps and looks over eagerly, but quickly frowns. “Where?”
“Right there, in those tall hot-dog looking things.”
“Um, the reeds?”
“I’ve heard it both ways.”
Jules squints, searching for signs of ducklings. “Where are you seeing them?”
“Right there, look.” Shawn leans and points harder , like that will help somehow. “You can totally see the hotdogs moving.”
“I think that’s just the wind.”
“No, look, the moms are circling the hot dogs and luring the feeders over to them.”
“What?” Jules looks at the edges of the pond now, and realizes that, yes, the ducks are luring the people with the food towards the reeds- and finally, the ducklings swim out into view.
“Told ya.” Shawn takes a bite of an eclair.
“How did you even see that movement from here?” Jules looks back at Shawn in awe.
“You kidding? They were totally moving all over.”
“But it looked like the wind.”
“The wind is blowing the total opposite direction. Look, you can see it in the ripples.”
“Huh.” Jules looks back at the pond. “That’s really impressive, Shawn. I had no idea your eyesight was that good.”
“Oh, yeah. I’ve been asked to be studied by science for my eyesight, but they said it would drain all the color out of them, and then of course I’d have to become a supervillain.”
“Or a mysterious warning corpse in the basement of a haunted mansion.”
“Neither of which I felt up for.”
“Right.” Jules giggles, and looks back at the pond.
She has no idea how he noticed that. Not unless it was psychic, somehow. And further, she has no idea why he’s acting like she should be able to notice it, too. And, like before with the delivery boy, it’s not the first time he’s done this. But it’s the first time it feels…
Like something she needs to pay attention to.
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Shawn?” Jules sets down the bowl of brownie batter when she realizes he’s stopped licking the spoon and is staring, eyes glazed, at the wall. It’s probably just a vision. She should just consider it a vision. There’s no real reason to think it’s not.
“Shawn,” she tries again, shaking his arm slightly. He startles, just a bit, and then clears his throat and puts the licked-”clean” spoon down on the counter. “Are you okay?”
“Uh, yeah.” His eyes flick back to the wall. “... Jules, uh, does the wall look…” He pouts a little, shrugging. “Suspicious, to you?”
“Suspicious?” She looks at the same spot. “It’s… a wall.”
“Yeah… but there’s something a little off, isn’t there?” Shawn walks over to it, and taps his knuckles against the plaster. “... Sounds off, actually. Come here, listen.”
She obliges, leaning in close. Shawn taps one spot on the wall, and then the spot he said sounded strange.
“... What am I supposed to be hearing, Shawn?”
“It’s more hollow over here.” Shawn taps the first spot, and then taps the second. “Right here, it sounds more uh… almost like wet cardboard.”
She listens again. “Okay… I think I hear it now. But you didn’t hear the wall from over at the counter, did you? Was it a vision?”
“There’s a ring around this spot,” Shawn mumbles, like he didn’t hear her. He smacks his lips, and then jerks away from the wall as the focus suddenly drops away into his usual energy. “Man, we’ve got a leak in the walls! I knew that landlord was lying when he said it was all up to code.”
“A leak? Shawn, we tapped the wall a little bit, that doesn’t really tell us anything.”
“Yeah, maybe… but I’m calling someone, tomorrow, just- remind me in the morning.” His eyebrows twitch up, his mouth forming an ‘O’ as he realizes something. “If I play this card right I might be able to knock a bit off our rent.”
“Shawn, you are not blackmailing our landlord over a leak that might not even exist.”
“I’m not! Not yet! Just planning to, possibly. So we can have more money for date nights!”
“It’s illegal.”
“Alright, alright. …How illegal, exactly?”
“Shawn.”
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It’s trickery. It’s lying. It’s wrong.
But she had been sitting at her desk, reviewing the latest round of new Detective’s Exam scores, when she’d remembered Shawn saying years ago that he had taken the exam when he was 15, and got 100.
A perfect score.
And maybe that meant very little to her once, when Shawn was just the strange somewhat charming guy who came into her life only on occasion to make a case more interesting. But now, dating Shawn and seriously considering spending the rest of her life with him, now as soon as she had recalled that tidbit it began to haunt her. Every time she watched Shawn around the house, and even in the station. It echoed in her head while she watched him look over reports, scan crime scenes, even while he was just watching movies and predicting things about their endings.
I got 100. … Why? What did you guys get?
He hadn’t even been bragging.
So now she sits on the couch, a thick binder in front of her, guilt twisting in her stomach at what she’s about to do.
She’s about to lie to her boyfriend, with the full intent of tricking him into the taking the exam again, just to see.
When he walks into the house, slightly out of breath and carrying something that looks suspiciously like the pineapple statue put into evidence during the last case, he startles upon seeing her and hides the statue behind his back. But his excuse dies in his gaping mouth when he sees how stressed she looks.
“Babe? Everything okay?” He sets the statue- it’s definitely the same one put into evidence- aside as he moves to sit next to her.
“Fine,” she sighs. “Just- Chief Vick asked me to help review the Detective’s Exam after someone complained there were errors in it.”
“Hmm. That person should either pass immediately, or be barred from detective status forever.”
She giggles softly. “That’s a little extreme. It’s just, this is going to take forever, and I was hoping to go out today and finally try that spa that opened up.”
“Well you totally should!” Shawn looks at the binder. “Just, leave it for another time, it can’t be that pressing. After all, Santa Barbara already has it’s best detective.”
She rolls her eyes fondly.
“And, she just so happens to be dating an equally awesome but more brunette psychic detective.” He kisses her on the cheek. “So she should go out and treat herself while her awesome boyfriend tries to divine if there’s actually a mistake.”
“Oh, the spirits know that kind of thing?”
“Some of them, some of them.”
“Well, let them know I’ll still have to check their work, so they better show it.” She gives him a kiss back and stands. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”
“Love you.”
“Love you too.”
The guilt gnaws at her as she drives to the spa, as she picks her treatment, as she gets her facial and her massage and her body scrub. She knows she had to- she knows Shawn well enough to know he’d never retake the exam if she just asked him outright. He’d be suspicious why she was asking him to, and she’s not sure she can tell him without making him think she’s doubting him.
She’s not. He is psychic.
But he might also be more.
And if he is, he’s hiding it- maybe not as much as he did when she would only see him at the station, or planned dates, but he’s still hiding it. She sees him seeing things, noticing details, making connections, and when he does he never seems to…
She’s not sure. She just knows that he treats these moments like they’re something a normal person can do when they can’t, or like they aren’t happening at all, or even…
Even like they’re psychic.
She takes the long way home, breathing deeply the whole time. Shawn lies to her every day- she’s not blind to that. Usually about a case, usually because he’s more than likely doing something she could get reprimanded for just knowing about. She doesn’t like it, but even though he lies he doesn’t trick her, at least as far as she knows.
When she gets home, Shawn isn’t there. She finds a note on the coffee table, stuck to the binder. Gus called, be back soon, XOXO.
She smiles, takes a deep breath, and opens the binder.
There’s mostly Doodles. His artistic skill on display ranges from shockingly masterful to shockingly kindergarten-like, some doodles belonging in a gallery and some not even qualifying for the fridge under a free pizza place magnet. Aliens, dinosaurs, scenes from movies, random invention ideas…
No answers, at first, which disappoints her. Until she notices that one doodle seems to coordinate to one of the questions, and it’s like a Rosetta Stone.
Not all, but many of the doodles seem to relate to the answer to a question in some way, and where there’s not doodles there’s not-answers that show knowledge of the actual answer. There’s snark and quips and jokes that contain answers, and every once and a while she even finds something straightforward smushed among the almost deflective content of the pages.
Deflective.
He’s deflecting that he knows the answers. The more she flips through, the more she sees it. Shawn went out of his way to answer without answering, to show his knowledge without admitting he has it. He couldn’t just not answer, and he couldn’t just pretend not to know- but he couldn’t outright show it either.
“Oh my god.” Jules closes the binder and puts her face in her hands. “Of course. Henry.”
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jules finds Henry’s detective’s exam score a week later. It’s high- not perfect, but high. She finds Shawn’s score to compare. Like he’d said. It was perfect.
She goes digging through the file archives on her lunch break, and finds the actual exam itself- someone preserved it, because a fifteen year old got 100.
It’s not like the one Shawn did in their living room.
It’s still got doodles, tangents, signs of distractibility- but the answers are much more plain. Forthright. It reads like an actual potential detective, taking the exam seriously, trying his best.
And she’s pretty sure she knows who gave Shawn that exam.
Of course, of course. His dad was a cop, a revered one, of course Henry taught Shawn some skills- more than some! How did that never occur to her? It feels silly now, to think Shawn wouldn’t have at the very least picked up a few tricks of the trade, even if Henry hadn’t taught Shawn outright.
She puts the file back, smiling and satisfied with knowing she was right and Shawn does have genuine, non-psychic detective skills like she’d suspected.
… The smile fades when she starts to wonder why he pretends he doesn’t.
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Carlton, can I ask you about something?”
Lassiter looks up from his paperwork and sets his pen aside. “Anything to save me from the banality of filling another report out.”
“You… met Shawn’s mom, right?”
Lassiter’s mouth snaps shut, his eyes going a little wide. “This isn’t anything about you and Spencer’s… relationship progress, is it?”
“What? … Oh, god, no! No, I’m not looking to propose or anything.”
He sags (well, relatively- Lassiter never truly sags or loosens up) with relief. “In that case, yes, she did my last psych eval.”
“Right. And you-you talked with her a lot?”
“As much as was required by the situation.”
“Was she… like Shawn, at all? It’s just that, well, even though she’s been in town three times now, I’ve never actually talked with her beyond some passing comments.” She’s barely involved with Shawn’s life- if Jules didn’t know how absent Madaline is from her son’s existence prior to dating, she’d have assumed Shawn’s mom hated her by how little they’ve actually interacted.
Lassiter thinks for a moment, looking out into the bullpen, and then looks down and picks his pen back up. “Not really, no. Closest she came was recognizing the Clint Eastwood movies I was telling her stories from. She was generally professional, somewhat soft-spoken, and somehow got me to open up without even half of the pressing nature of her son.”
Jules nods. “Did she… mention Shawn at all?”
“Only at the end, after I shared my innermost thoughts. … You know, I take it back. That was the most Spencer -like thing she did during our sessions.”
“Huh.” Jules looks down at her own paperwork. That answers nothing about why Shawn is pretending he isn’t a good detective. It can’t be his dad, Henry would be much softer and more proud if Shawn showed off that skillset, surely. Madaline seemed like a good lead…
“She was weird, though. Outside of the relation to Spencer. She didn’t even record our sessions, she claimed to have… dammit.” Lassiter frowns as he tries to remember. “Something about being able to remember everything she hears with almost perfect accuracy.”
Jules’s head snaps up. “What?”
“I thought she was bullcrapping, but I got ahold of the file and didn’t actually find any errors in the quotes she included- she must’ve tapped the room or something.”
“Carlton, go back. Perfect memory? Shawn’s mom?”
“See, I believed her about it until I learned that. With Henry’s recall, and a mom with perfect memory for sounds, there’s no way Spencer should be as airheaded as he is. Not unless his brain short-circuited from overwhelming competency it just wasn’t built for.”
“Oh my god.” Jules puts her face in her hands. “Carlton, what if that’s exactly what it is?”
“What? What are you on about?”
“Nothing, just- it’s nothing.” She fixes her ponytail and then stands up. “I’m taking my lunch break, I’ll bring you back a coffee.”
“Uh, and a danish.”
“And a danish.”
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Henry swings the door open with a readied scowl, but it drops away when he sees it’s Jules standing on his porch. “Oh, Detective O’Hara.”
“I’m here on a personal matter, actually.” Jules smiles a bit. “Can I talk to you for a second?”
“Sure, sure, come on in.” Henry steps aside. “I actually just grilled up a catch from this morning, if you’re hungry.”
“Thank you, that sounds great.”
Minutes later they’re both sitting at the table, Jules sees a little carving in the top of the old piece of furniture, a shaky scratching of Shawn and Gus Club right by her elbow. It makes her smile.
“So, ah, what is this about?” Henry gestures at her with his fork. “Shawn’s treating you right, isn’t he?”
“We’re great,” she assures. “I just wanted to ask a few questions about Shawn’s gift.”
Henry leans his head to the side, frowning. “I uh, can’t really help you there, Juliet.”
“Not the psychic one.”
Henry pauses, his frown deepening. He looks up at her with something… unreadable, in his eyes. “How do you mean?”
“I’m not doubting him,” Jules rushes to reassure, and it does seem to loosen something in Henry’s twisted expression, but not by much. “I just… I’ve always known Shawn was a little smarter than he let on, you know? But I’ve had reason to believe, since we moved in together, that it’s much more extreme of a mask than I thought.”
Henry puts his fork down entirely. “What’d he do?”
“Just… little things, that I used to think were maybe minor visions or feelings, but sometimes… sometimes he just says things that blow my mind. He notices way more little details than he used to let on, for example, and then today Carlton mentioned that his mom has an um…” She take sout her phone to look it up again.
“Eidetic tonal memory,” Henry fills in before she can even begin typing. “She does. I have a visual one.”
Jules looks at him, quickly tucking her phone away. “And then Carlton said that maybe Shawn struggled with handling that- well, he didn’t say it in those exact words-”
“Shawn does not struggle with his memory, except for when he wants to.” Henry’s mouth is puckered, like he’s eating a lemon dipped in sour dust. “You’re saying you think he’s faking visions.”
“Not all of them.” That’s just not possible, with everything he figures out. “But some of them, and I just- I just can’t figure out why he would fake them for some of the things he does. I mean, the other night he talked in his sleep and basically walked me through his process step-by step by accident, and then the next day he came into the station and pretended it just came to him when he reexamined the scene photos.”
“Shawn has always had an overenthusiasm for drama,” Henry starts, speaking quickly and with heavy exasperation. “He likes things to be public and dramatic as much as possible, especially when it’s an embarrassment to himself and to me.”
“That’s a little harsh, I think.”
“Trust me, it isn’t. Shawn has never wanted to embrace his full potential, Juliet- yes, he has both a visual and tonal eidetic memory, and on top of that I trained him to be a detective for his entire life. I knew, I knew he had the ability to be the best detective this department has ever seen, if he just-!” Henry stops himself and rubs one hand over his head. “But he likes living in a fantasy more. He likes slacking off, and refusing to apply himself, and avoiding responsibility, so he… indulged his psychicness, over his actual detective skills.”
“... I’m not sure he has,” Jules says carefully, watching for Henry’s reaction with a readiness to run.
Henry laughs a little, bitterly, and looks up. “He’s not a real detective, Juliet. No matter how much I want him to be, or how much he insists he is.”
“Just because he’s not on the force, it doesn’t mean he’s not a detective.”
“It might as well.”
“... You should be proud of your son, Henry. He’s helped solved a lot of cases we’d have had to let go cold without him.”
“I am proud.” He says it quickly, defensively- but not inauthentically. It occurs to Jules that this is the first time she’s heard Henry declade Pride in Shawn, in all seven years she’s known them both. “I am. Just not of his methods.”
“... Well, um, thank you, for the food, and-and the information.” Jules stands up. She’s starting to form a new theory about why Shawn hides his skills. “Do me a favor and, don’t tell Shawn about this? I just don’t want him to feel weird that I’m, well… investigating him.”
Henry shrugs and pretends to zip his mouth and throw away the key.
“Thanks.” She gives him a smile that has to be forced out, and leaves.
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Well I bet you can’t quote every line from The Breakfast Club without looking it up.” They’re playing a game of low-stakes wagers while they make baked mac ‘n cheese for dinner, and Shawn is losing badly- mostly because he’s only making bets that have Jules showing off her best skills.
Shawn looks at her, genuinely offended, before it smooths out into acceptance. “You’re right, I can’t. Not unless I’m given a big buzzing button, to replace the slurs.”
Jules nods. “Fair. How about you just point to me and I’ll make the noise for you?”
“Now that is a plan.”
She feels bad about tricking him again. She does. But she watches him run through the whole movie script, doing the dances, dramatically flailing around the room- and she sees something she’d been completely overlooking for years.
She laughs as he finishes it off, sweating and panting but grinning at her. “How do you remember all of that but the other day you couldn’t tell me if you’d even locked the front door?”
Well I remember important things, Jules.”
“Home security is important, Shawn.”
“When you’re not a detective dating a psychic, maybe.”
“Ha-ha. I’d still rather not come home from a date to our TV missing.”
“... True. Fair. I’ll work on it.”
“Seriously though, Shawn, sometimes your memory makes no sense to me. Do you think ADHD medication would help with some of the… little details?”
“Uh, no.” Shawn shakes his head. “No can do, tried it once and swore it off forever.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, it uh… stuff filtered in but didn’t filter out, you know? Like Gus at a buffet.”
“Gross.”
“It was, it was gross. Both the meds and the buffet.”
“I can’t imagine. It would be awful, just… being unable to stop things sticking around in your head.” She watches him from the corner of her eye as she pulls the dish out of the oven.
Shawn’s posture tenses a little. His mouth parts and the tip of his tongue comes to touch the middle of his top lip. He shrugs, and nods. “Yeah. What a-” he interrupts himself with a chuckle that Jules can only tell is bitter and nervous because of how long she’s known him. “What a sucky thing that’d be!”
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Shawn, this is too much,” Jules says as he leads her, his hands covering her eyes, somewhere for a date.
“Are you kidding? You saved my life on this case, again, and you totally prevented a huge disaster with getting the detonator away from that guy.”
“And you are the one who noticed he had a detonator in the first place.”
“The spirits noticed, Jules. But I will take credit for this.” He moves his hands away from her eyes, and she gasps.
They’re in some kind of outdoor dining area, an archway of flowering vines set up above a table covered with a floral cloth and light-blue chinaware. As Shawn comes around to her line of vision she sees he’d hidden a nice suit under his usual jacket when he first told her he had a surprise planned, and his tie…
“Shawn, are you recreating the play?” It had been a particularly great date, for a variety of reasons- but mostly, because Shawn had actually managed to sit down, watch the play, and not turn it into a criminal investigation. He’d still kept up a running commentary and restless fidgeting of course- Jules would have been worried if he hadn’t- but otherwise it had been proof to her that he could take this seriously.
“Maybe.” He offers her his hand and leads her to the table.
“Shawn, these plates are exactly like the ones from the date scene, how did you-”
“I may or may not have, solved a little case for the owner of the theatre and taken payment in the form of old props.”
Jules laughs, picking up the menu on the table. “Is this the actual menus too, then?”
“Unfortunately, no, but I think Gus- I mean, I, recreated them pretty well.”
“Mmm. Let me guess, you ‘managed’ the recreation, and Gus did the work on it?”
“I also turned on the printer.”
“Basically did the whole thing yourself.” She looks over the menu again- it had been held up briefly during the play, a larger version of it shown on a projection screen behind the actors, and she wouldn’t have remembered it if asked before this moment but now, seeing the recreation, she’s almost certain it’s exact.
It had been on stage for maybe one minute, maybe less.
“How did you even remember this?”
“Psychic recreation, Jules. I traveled back to the past in ethereal form. Your future self was there too- clearly, my gifts rub off on you fifty years from now.”
She laughs again, softer. He’s lying of course- he likes to lie for the humor, and the fun, and because no-one can truly call him out on his powers because even he doesn’t understand them as he often admits. But it feels different now.
He’s not lying entirely for fun. Partly for fun, sure- but he remembered the play, he remembered the menu, because he has an eidetic memory and can’t forget things and in the days since she spoke with Henry to confirm it that fact has been haunting her.
She has trouble sleeping some nights- it’s gotten better since Shawn moved in, having someone curled around her making sleep feel safer- because of the things she’s seen, experienced, endured. She still has nightmares about the clocktower, about sitting in a hospital bed waiting to hear if she has Thornburg, about desperately hunting down clues to Shawn’s whereabouts with Gus and having no idea if they’d even find him alive by the end. The images, the emotions, the sounds… they all stick with her, forgotten until the moment they strike.
What is that like for someone with Shawn’s memory? If her memories push in unwanted, what about his? The looks into the distance, the glaze over his eyes right before he reveals something, the visceral reactions when he remembers something he doesn’t like- it breaks her heart now, knowing that at least some of those are because his mind shoves near-perfect flashbacks at him.
And with observation, she’s realized that it’s usually unwanted and not sought out- just like his visions. It’s hard to tell them apart from the outside, which just makes her even more concerned- does he even know the difference most of the time? Does it affect all of his thoughts, his imagination, the way he fills in blanks? Is that why sometimes his “visions” are so wrong, because he’s so used to them working the same way as the rest of his mind that he can’t tell what’s Him and what’s The Spirits?
“Hey.” She’s jolted out of her spiraling thoughts by Shawn reaching across the table and taking her hand. “Are you okay?”
She plasters on a smile. “Fine. Just- thinking about how lucky we are. To be here, after everything we’ve gone through.”
Shawn smiles back and pats her hand once before withdrawing his. “Lucky, or just awesome and unstoppable as a team? You, me, Gus, sometimes Lassie- we’re literally a dream team.”
“We are.” She tries to push her concerns about her boyfriend out of her mind, ordering food from a waiter wearing a costume clearly not sized for him- Shawn is always making seemingly impossible things happen, and Jules has no idea how he roped a real restaurant into this, aside from it being either a favor or a blackmail- but Shawn doesn’t blackmail people as far as she’s ever known, so probably a favor.
Shawn is impossible. More and more so every day. And the most impossible is his contradictions. She watches him fumble with his napkin, and remembers him leveling a gun with a steady confident hand on more than one occasion during a case. She listens to him recount a completely wrong story that she keeps correcting the details of, and looks at the perfect recreation of a scene from a play they saw once, months and months ago. She watches him exclaim in surprise over realizing the plates have a design of playing labradoodles at the edges, and thinks about how he saw the reeds moving in a different direction than the wind was blowing from almost impossibly far away to pick up on such a detail.
“Shawn.” She sets her fork down and interrupts his gushing about how cute the design of one of the puppies on the plate is. “I need to tell you something.”
His smiles drops, his mouth forming a small ‘o’ shape, eyes alight with panic.
“I’m not breaking up with you.” The quick assurance makes Shawn sigh and slump in relief. “And-and I want you to know before I say this that I’m not doubting you either, or your psychic abilities.”
The tension in Shawn returns. “What?”
Jules bites her lower lip. “I just… can’t pretend not to know anymore, Shawn. Because it’s been just… awful watching you do everything you can to pretend you’re not intelligent.”
“... Jules, I-I don’t-”
“I talked to your dad.” She immediately wishes she’d started with anything else, the way Shawn shuts down and clams up. “No, that’s not what I- Shawn, I know you have an eidetic memory, and that you’re probably hyperobservant, on top of being psychic.”
Shawn’s mouth is tightly pursed, eyes searching, body language just withdrawn. Jules plows forwards, swallowing thickly.
“I’ve been seeing it since you moved in. You’re so smart, Shawn, and-and your detective skills are amazing. One night you solved a case in your sleep, and you mumbled the whole thing, and I was just blown away by how you were able to come to those conclusions and connect those dots.”
Shawn looks down, briefly licking his lips. “Chief Vick never asked you to review the detective’s exam, did she?”
“... No. And, you just proved my point. You made that connection so fast, Shawn.”
Shawn shrugs. “What-what is this? Why right now? On our date?”
“Because I love you.” She reaches over, pries his hands away from his sides and holds them. “And I want to understand why. Why do you pretend you’re not one of the best detectives I’ve ever seen? Your psychic visions are one thing, Shawn, but your skills… they’re genuinely incredible.”
Shawn won’t look her in the eye, traveling his sharp gaze around anything else around them. “You know me. I just uh, love putting on a show.”
“That’s what your dad said.” She feels his hands tense in hers. “But I don’t believe either of you. Well, I believe that’s part of it, but not the full thing. … Your dad said you’ve never really embraced it.”
“Of course he did.”
“But you do, embrace it. You do every day. I watch you get completely antsy and out of your mind without a case, and I used to think it was because you were just… chaotic, and-and bored, and maybe some kind of psychic restlessness but it’s not, right? It’s because you need to be able to solve something. Because you like being smart and solving cases, but you don’t like people knowing. Why?”
“Jules…”
“I’m not asking you to bring me in on your process, or to admit to anyone else when you solve instead of divine. I’m just… trying to understand you, Shawn, because I want us to work. And for us, this, to last… we have to know each other, and I feel like I’m just learning about you all over again.”
Shawn is silent for a moment, and then takes a deep breath and meets her eyes, reluctantly. “Gus knows,” he admits. “You probably figured that, but, he does.”
Jules nods.
“Did my dad… talk about uh…”
“... He mentioned he trained you since you were young.”
“... Yeah. … I don’t know how to, uh…”
She waits. He seems… lost.
“... I learned how to properly stalk a perp through a hideout before I learned how people get sick from each other,” he says. Jules blinks in confusion until he continues, “I learned most things about being a cop before I learned everything else. And it wasn’t… he’s not proud of me, you know? When I was a kid I wanted to be just like him, and I couldn’t be, and he was disappointed in me. Eight years old, I could close my eyes and tell you the clothes anyone in the room was wearing, could tell you who was married and who wasn’t, how… how many hats, were in the room, and it didn’t matter. It was…” He scoffs. “Adequate. That’s it.”
Jules rubs her thumb along the back of his hand. “You got bitter about it.”
“Bitter’s a strong word.” It’s not- it’s just right. It’s in his voice, his eyes, his posture. But he doesn’t like these words, she knows that about him. He doesn’t like these words and these feelings, and he likes to pretend they don’t exist, and he doesn’t experience them. And how hadn’t she realized that was a problem before now? How had that just settled in her perception of him without setting off alarms that maybe something wasn’t okay?
“Shawn, you’re more than adequate. Your dad said so himself, he told me he is proud of you.”
“... He-he did?” The genuine surprise, it makes Jules’s heart shatter all over again.
“And more importantly, we’re all proud of you. Me, Gus, Carlton is even if he won’t admit it either- The Chief, she’s so proud of you and the work you do! Even when you mess it up or cause major problems, she still defends you and knows you do good work.”
Shawn’s mouth finally untightens, slightly, one corner twitching up for a brief smile. But it fades all too quick.
“What’s the rest of the reason, Shawn? It can’t just be because your dad didn’t give you the credit you deserved. You’ve been doing this for years.”
“Well, like I said Jules, it’s not as fun. You know? You-you solve something psychically and everyone is in awe! Throw in some jokes, make a scene, plus the bad guys always seem to confess way faster when they think I divined certain things, it’s just better!”
“You could do the same with your deductions! I mean it, Shawn, they’re amazing, the way you solved that case with the hit-and-run was incredible. I don’t even know how you came up with the magnets.”
He puts a finger by his temple and gives her a somewhat prodding, questioning look. She frowns at him and raises an eyebrow, and he puts his hand back down with a defeated nod.
“... I don’t want to be my dad.” Shawn shrugs. “I don’t want to be my dad, and as amazing as he is I don’t want to be Gus, and I don’t want to be Lassie, or even-even some… ideal, me. I want to be… me, Jules.”
“I’m not asking you to not be you.”
“Not on purpose, but- this is me, Jules, this is who I am. I can’t live my life with everyone expecting me to remember everything completely perfectly no matter what, or asking me about every little detail of everything all the time, or saying I should know things or be smarter than what I did or-or have to be better than that-”
It’s like when the last piece of a case finally fits into place.
“Oh.” Jules squeezes his hand, and he cuts himself off to look at her with pinched brows and still parted lips. “Shawn… that kind of pressure is insane to put on a child. I’m so sorry.”
He blinks, frozen, and Jules stands up to come to his side and kiss his forehead. She crouches down by his chair. “You, are more than a detective,” she assures. “You are funny, and fun, and sometimes you’re so stupid and reckless that it literally hurts to watch, but that doesn’t mean that what you do right doesn’t matter. You don’t have to match your stupidity to your intelligence just to balance them out.”
“That’s not what I do.”
“Isn’t it? … Oh, my god, and after-after Yin you started going more overboard-”
“Jules-”
“-because he called you out and you had to hide even more-”
“Jules.” She looks into Shawn’s eyes and they’re… glassy. Red. Watering.
“You, being good at what you do, did not put me in danger,” she says softly, reaching up to brush her thumb over his cheek. “You being intelligent will not push me away, or change what I expect of you, or make you lose anyone you care about. But it might make us lose you, if you keep trying to bury it and compensate for it.”
“... I-I…”
“You know you’ve gone too far the opposite direction a lot these last few years, don’t you?”
He’s silent.
“... I understand these feelings run very deep, and all the back to your childhood. I understand that you probably resent what made your dad tain you just as much as you resent him and his training.”
“I don’t resent-”
“Shawn.”
“... I’m… working on not resenting him. Especially after he got shot.”
“I know. But you’re not working on how you feel about yourself because of him, are you?”
“... This is… very uncomfortable.”
“I know.” She wipes away an escaped tear. “You don’t like people being able to really know you, do you?”
“I like you knowing me. And Gus.”
“Do you? Because I had to figure all of this out on my own. Shawn, are you so used to hiding what you could be to be what you want to that you don’t even know how not to hide anymore?”
He flounders, opening and moving his mouth with no words, looking at the ground to her side. “I-I don’t know,” he finally gets out.
Jules nods. “And that’s okay.” Has he ever heard that before, in response to him not knowing something? Maybe. She won’t know unless they keep talking about this. She hopes they keep talking about this.
“... But you uh…” He presses his wrist, sleeves pulled down and gripped in his palm, to his nose for just a second, and sniffs. “You’re not saying you don’t believe I’m psychic anymore?”
“No, I’m not.”
He nods. “... You know, uh… Lassie is the whole reason I even got started, on the psychic detective thing.”
“Really?”
“Really. We still have this uh, table and everything for a few more hours, if you want to hear the story.”
She recognizes it for what it is. You know now, I’m uncomfortable with it, but I’ll try to not be, for you. So she sits back in her seat and listens to Shawn describe how he figured out a case through watching the news, and when Lassie didn’t believe him about it he claimed it was a psychic vision, and then he realized that works.
It recontextualizes even more things for Jules, even more of what Shawn must feel and think, and she wonders if she’ll ever fully figure him out.
She’ll just have to spend her entire life with him, she supposes.
#I'm not super happy with the ending but I can't make anything else work any better so. Ah well.#psych#psychusa#psych usa#psych 2006#shules#fanfic#my attempts at fanfic
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<sans snuggle enjoyer
ur little ficlet with the sleepy man was very cute.. I do not suppose.. Perhaps.. u could do one where he just wants hugs and kisses from reader but he's too shy to outright ask for them?? hides
It was one of those nights when you and your skeleton husband were just sitting on the couch watching some Mewmew Kissy Cutie together . You can't recall how many times the two if you had binge watched the whole series together, but it never got old . You were infatuated by characters like Mewmew, and somewhat envied how cute they were .
There was something you couldn't shake throughout your little marathon . A weird feeling of being stared at .
Oh . You were being stared at .
When you looked to your side, Sans had his eyes on you, it was almost as if he was mesmerized by the sight of you . You chuckled and arched a brow at him .
"Sans, honey, why are ya starin at me dude ?" You asked him .
He was silent, and his eyes shifted to the side . Small incoherent sounds, quiet words you could barely make out began to escape the skeleton .
"Sans . . . ?" You took into account the extra amount of blue on his face . . . He hadn't blushed that much since you proposed to him .
"i . . . uh . . ." Was all that came from the skeleton .
You place a hand on his cheek . You were about to ask him what was going on but were caught off gaurd by the skeleton absolutely melting into your touch, eye sockets falling shut as he let out a sigh .
Oh . Ohohoho . So that's what's up .
Your dear husband seems to be affection starved . Which . . . Frankly, it makes sense to you, considering how busy with work you've been . You keep coming home too tired to do much of anything but eat and sleep .
Well, needless to say, you didn't mind this . You had a smorgasbord of affection to give .
You lean closer to him, pressing a kiss to his other cheekbone, feeling him grip onto your shirt sleeves as he erupts in soft giggle . Oh, it was music to your ears .
You couldn't help but chuckle as you continued to cover the man's face in kisses, pulling him as close to you as you could . He just held onto you, melting into a mess of giggles .
"[Y/N] . . . !" He said your name so softly, it made your heart skip a beat .
"Sans . . . !" You cooed before pressing another soft kiss to his forehead .
You pressed your foreheads together, looking him in the eyes . You could have sworn his face was more blue than you'd ever seen it before, and well . . . It was a very precious sight to you .
"Is that what you were staring at me for . . . ?" You ask softly .
" . . . heh . . . yup . . ." He chuckles, wrapping his arms around you properly . "glad you got the message . . ."
"Loud n clear . . ." You say, before giving him one final kiss on the mouth .
He sighed with all the love in his heart, and when you pulled your lips away, his head tucked right into that comfy spot between your chin and your chest, as you cuddled him close .
"You coulda just said so from the start, funnybones . . ." You tell him .
"hmm . . . got a bit nervous . . ." He admits .
You let out a bit of a loud laugh .
"HA- S-SANS . . . I'm your SPOUSE, you goofball !" You hugged him a little tighter, rocking in place a bit . God, he's too cute .
"i-i know,,, jus didn't wanna bother ya ." He hugs back equally as tight .
"You could never bother me, my love . I promise ." You say, stroking the back of his skull . "You can always ask me for affection, alright ? It's kinda what I'm here for ."
He chuckled .
"ok . . . i love you, [Y/N] ." He says quietly .
"I love you, Sans . . ." You whisper back .
#undertale#sans#sans x you#sans x reader#undertale x reader#anonymous seepyhead#ask answered#uggghhghh he is the snuggly ever#sans fanfic#undertale fanfic
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Mirandy fanfic- Apocalypse Au; Chapter 4
Hi everyone! Sorry this took so long Ive been busy :) this is mostly just fluffy filler, im hoping to make the next few chapters more angsty. Enjoy!
Prologue- https://www.tumblr.com/mirandapriestlyswife/747204446805704704/mirandy-fanfic-apocalypse-au-prologue
Chapter 1 https://www.tumblr.com/mirandapriestlyswife/747303362291286016/mirandy-apocalypse-fic-chapter-1
Chapter 2 https://www.tumblr.com/mirandapriestlyswife/747419492186996736/mirandy-fanfic-apocalypse-au-chapter-2
Chapter 3 https://www.tumblr.com/mirandapriestlyswife/747593307288403968/mirandy-fanfic-apocalypse-au-chapter-3
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Waking up with your old bosses head snuggled tight in the crook of your neck is a nice feeling, but an odd one at that. It’s what Andy has been dealing with the last 6 weeks. After that first night Miranda was quick to move all of her things to the studio apartment she resided in. The floor was practically shaking under the pressure of the dozens of suitcases Miranda had brought with her. Eventually, as she assumed, Miranda got sick of the pull out couch. Its what she expected. What she didn’t expect was for Miranda to insist they inhabit a place that required less stairs to climb.
“Maybe a nice first floor hotel room?” Andy suggested
“No room on the first floor is nice.”
“Maybe we could go to queens? See if theres any abandoned places there?”
Miranda snorted, “Queens.. Be serious, Andrea.”
“Maybe we could take a trip like I suggested?”
“No.”
“Alright..”
Miranda let out a deep sigh and a grunt, “Maybe.”
Maybe was good enough for Andy!
Over the weeks they had finally decided on a beautiful brownstone, probably abandoned by some rich upper class losers who had ditched the city to go hide in one of those bunkers upstate.. At least thats what shes assuming since Miranda made her look through every room, under every duvet cover, in every bathtub, for any corpses but none were to be found. It took the two of them what felt like hours to haul Mirandas suitcases inside (with Andy doing most of the work).
Now the two sat, with Miranda sitting at the kitchen island reading some old magazine as Andy prepared “lunch” (a combination of canned green beans, spam, and canned corn), she didn’t bother telling Miranda its spam so she’d actually eat.
“Whatcha reading?”
“Runway.”
“Really? I never would’ve guessed.” She smiled and slid Miranda her plate which Miranda looked at with only mild disgust rather than her usual “oh my God I used to have a private chef, now look at me” face. She sat down next to the editor and took a bite of the salty green beans. It was weird, having this almost domestic relationship with Miranda of all people.. I mean- they slept in the same bed for Gods sake. Andy couldn’t tell what she felt for the older woman anymore, something between love and slight fear, alike before the outbreak, but maybe with a bit less fear after sleeping in the same bed as her for nearly a month. They haven’t spotted another living person in all of New York City, it felt as Miranda said, “A waste of time” to keep looking.
“Sooo.. Anything new in Runway?”
Miranda let out a displeased grunt.
“Can you at least eat?“
Miranda visibly rolled her eyes and shut her magazine before poking at the meal.
“You slept in late today.” The editor noted aloud.
“Yeah.. Guess I was tired-“
“I was worried you died.”
Andy snorted and took a bite of her spam when she saw Miranda staring at her with her piercing blue eyes, somehow scarier in the afternoon light. “Im serious.”
Andy paused, unsure how to act. “Mira- what-?? Im not gonna just die on you!” She awkwardly sputtered out.
“Well.. Good.” The editor stared at the other woman’s facial features for a minute before turning back to her plate and continuing to poke at the food.
“Can you actually eat something? Im tired of watching you poke at your food like some snooty house cat.” She watched closely as Miranda rolled her eyes and finally took a bite of the corn with a displeased look.
“Good?”
“Its fine.”
Andy chuckled, “Thanks.. I worked all day on it.” Miranda was not amused by her attempt at humor.
The two ate in silence until Andy spoke up. “I think im gonna head out today.. Look for some more food or something.. You want anything special?” The editor rolled her eyes
“A ribeye would be lovely.”
“Sure ill add it to the list next to the lobster dinner.”
Miranda grumbled and took a bite of meat which she visibly cringed at. She sighed woefully as they ate in silence.
“I like your shoes.”
“They’re last seasons.”
“Im sure no one will notice.”
Miranda smiled. Andy found it rewarding to see the editor smile. It felt as if she was playing a constant game of try not to laugh and she was always losing, but sometimes she had a small victory.
“We should go to MoMa soon.” Miranda suggested as she pushed her half eaten food away and stood up.
“We could go today?”
“I thought you would be searching for more cans of vomit to serve us.”
Andy frowned, “Hey! Its good. You’re just too privileged to appreciate the effort that goes into-“
“Into opening a can?” Miranda smirked, she always got that smug look of satisfaction when she was right, it made Andys heart flutter.
“I don’t just ‘open a can’, I have to go search for things I’ll hope you’ll eat, touch dusty crates in the back of bodegas, its gross.” Miranda simply scoffed and turned on her heels, setting the magazine she had been reading on the slightly dusty table that displayed photos of the twins Miranda had taken with her along with two urns.
Andy never asked about the twins. She was sure Miranda didn’t want to talk about them. She sighed and scratched at her arm awkwardly as she leaned on the kitchen island.
“Well. If you must.. Scavenge, then go ahead. But I would like you back before dark.”
One thing new shed learned about Miranda Priestly was that the woman was absolutely petrified of the dark. Whenever the two went to bed the room had to be illuminated by battery powered candles just for the editor to sleep through the night. Andy might’ve found it endearing if it didn’t always put a time limit on all of her out of the house activities. She had to be home at 5:00 due to the shortened December days. Oh how she missed summer.
“Yeah. I’ll be back before dark.” She walked over to Miranda and grabbed a few of the massive grocery bags stored under the table. “Any requests before I head out?”
“Fruit. But get water with it. I dont like the sugary concoction that slathers the stuff.”
“Canned fruit, got it.” Andy sighed and to her own surprise leaned over and gave Miranda a kiss on the cheek goodbye.
Miranda froze, not looking displeased but a bit surprised as did Andy. She smiled and awkwardly said, “I’ll be back in two hours tops, okay?”
Miranda made a noise of approval and as Andrea was leaving the older woman piped up.
“Andrea?”
“Hm?” She turned on her heels to face Miranda.
“Be safe. I love you.”
Andy stared at Miranda in disbelief, “..I love you too.” She finally sputtered, the editor smiled and nodded before turning down the hall, most likely to go nap.
Andy was shocked, Miranda loved her?? Miranda Priestly loved her?! Maybe she was looking too much into it.. She might mean it as platonic love.. But still, the words made Andys heart skip a beat.
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I hope you enjoyed! Again, sorry for the wait
#the devil wears prada#mirandy#mirandy fic#fanfiction#wlw writing#wlw ship#devil wears prada#andrea sachs#tdwp#andrea x miranda#miranda x andrea#miranda priestly#mirandy is canon trust me#lesbian#wlw shitpost#wlw#fanfic#fluff#angst#first fic
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A Time to Love and to Fight
Part Twenty - Seven
Summary: Choppy seas ensue for Enjolras and his girl.
Notes/Warnings: Very angsty. Mentions of un-aliving. A view on soldiers during the French Revolution. Mourning.
Thank you for reading! ❤️s & reblogs are always welcome. Feedback is also very…very welcome!
The following week misery took a hold of the ship and its passengers. The ocean as the captain had promised became choppy as they grew closer and closer to England. You nor Enjolras went to the top deck, the two of you barely left your cabin.
You remained huddled in the corner, shaking in Enjolras arms. Visions of your father plagued you. Your heart had to wonder. Had the ocean been this violent when his ship went down. Had there been pirates.
Your mind filled your thoughts with horrible images. He would be grasping at empty air as he struggled reaching for life. Other moments were pure nonsense since it played on you not being able to pull him back to safety aboard the boat. And yet, tears still fell from your eyes.
You’d fall asleep against Enjolras in pure exhaustion from crying and fear. The boat continued to creak and moan from the onslaught of the ocean. It would go up and down with the waves.
Huddled in the corner, you held onto each other. Enjolras, did venture out of the cabin a handful of times to grab a slab of cheese or dried meat. Once he had even found and tore off some dry bread for the two of you. He’d insist on you eating before he would allow any of it to his lips. The days passed, how many you didn’t know.
******
He sat there holding you, his chin resting gently on the top of your head. Grateful for the candle light. This was better then being shot to death in an ally. He knew in his heart that would have been his fate if you had not stumbled into his life. If he had not taken your hand and ran with you; it would have been yours too.
Those animals would never have thought twice about it. Blindly loyal; not realizing their disposal bodies for people who doesn’t even know their names. His jaw tightened in his anger.
“Father, father I can’t…” You softly whimper muffled against his coat. Moving a little against him in your sleep.
“It’s only a night terror love.” He said softly and held you tighter.
You made another incoherent whimper, before stilling against him once again.
******
Blinking, everything felt different. It made him wake up. Gently, he rose and opened the door to their cabin. Hoping to hear something.
One of the ship’s mates walked past, a pleased expression was splashed on his worn and lined face. He stopped seeing him. He bowed slightly.
He waved off the gesture.
The man smiled pleased. “Mousier, we have finally reached calmer waters. Should reach England, in a mere day or two. No more then that.”
“Fantastic news.”
“Yes, tonight we will toast to the sea gods.”
“Most definitely.”
They shared a nod and the man continued on his way.
Turning, he smiled seeing you rousing. He came and sat beside you. He brushed some hair from your eyes.
He smiled as you looked up at him. “We have reached calmer waters, let us go up to the top deck for fresh breezes.”
“Yes.”
********
The wooden crates gave a comforting stability in the too deck. Oddly, it reminded him of the day they had first built the barricade.
“I never thought we’d see the day.” You shifted under your scarf.
“I agree. Those rough waters felt like an eternity.” He paused, his heart began to pound. “Is that what I think it is?”
“Oh? What?”
Soon he climbed and clung to more crates and barrels, until he reached a higher place.
“Be careful.” You called out.
“I am. My hand is good.”
He opened and closed his now scared hand.
“Alright, my love.”
It was strong as it has ever been. Making sure it was stable he stood atop two crates. Shielding his eyes, he looked at the shadow that had caught his eye. A large smile cracked his face. “Mon amour, I do declare. I believe I see England!”
“Oh truly?” You stood and looked in the direction he did.
“Yes, that shadow on the horizon,” He pointe. “It must be.” Spotting a clear spot beside you, he jumped down. He felt amazing. They had made it. “It is my love. Our new life will soon upon us.”
You stood and closed the short distance between the two of you. A soft came from him as braced himself in your excitement. Blinking in the bright light of the sun you smiled up at Enjolras.
“We made it.”
His arms tightened. “We certainly did.” He made a prayer in his heart to thank Lachesis for once again bring the two of you together.
@henry-cavs-tudor @corrodedcoffn @dealswiththedevilsblog @randomstory56 @pl1nfa1 @phantomxoxo @ladybug0095 @the-iridescent-phoenix @maryan028 @kindablackenedsuperhero @amethyst-serenade @moondev1l @samunson83 @julieteagk @little-wormwood @wafflepixie @shadyhamiltonfanatic @gretavankleep37 @peacefroggg23 @capailluiscedove @poisonedeuphoria
#joseph quinn#joseph quinn fanfic#joseph quinn fanfiction#bbc!enjolras#bbc! enjolras x fem!reader#enjolras x reader#enjolras x y/n#enjolras x you#enjolras angst#enjolras fluff#enjolras smut#bbc les miserables#bbc les mis#bbc les miserables fanfiction#bbc les miserables fanfic#les miserables#enjolras imagine#a time to love and to fight#part 27#joe quinn#joe quinn fanfic#joe quinn imagine#enjolras x yn
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-> 𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐒. 𝐏𝐓.𝟐
robin arellano x reader
-> you and robin are best friends (pt.2) (no finney)
-> struggled a little coming up w/ new scenarios 😒 but yas here's sum more moments with robin!!
you sat outside of the boy’s restroom waiting for robin to come out, something was off about him. you noticed that when, instead of rambling about what movie he saw recently, he didn’t speak, not one word left his lips. as he exited the bathroom you stared at the small cuts on his face, the bruises on his arms, the bandages on his hand, and the somber look on his face. silence enveloped the both of you as you walked towards your home.
robin threw himself on your couch and almost passed out until you walked out with a record player, you set it down gently on the table and inserted the vinyl disc onto the turntable. with the music drowning out his negative thoughts, robin finally drifted off to sleep. you watched as his eyes closed and the small breaths escaped his lips.
a few hours passed and robin finally woke up, a familiar scent filled his nose and he walked towards your kitchen as saw that you were cooking. (fav. dish) was something you always made when you actually felt like cooking. he sat down at the table that was supposed to be for you and your family, and put his head down. he almost fell back asleep but you setting a plate down in front of him kept him awake.
"here ya' go." you said, sending him a sympathetic glance towards the bruises on his face.
"thanks. love you." he mumbled before quickly eating the meal brought to him.
—
the two of you sat on the curb outside of your neighborhood, watching old cars speed past. probably one of those older teenagers; you thought, leaning your head on the hand that was resting on your knee. you saw a couple walking down the sidewalk and remembered something; a card you made robin.
"oh, i forgot but happy valentine's day." you said, handing him a poorly (but hand crafted) made valentine's day card with one dollar on the inside.
“thanks, wow, i feel kinda bad because i didn’t make anything for you. dude, give me like a day and i’ll make you something.” he promised, putting the card in his back pocket.
“it’s fine, i didn’t expect anything from you anyway.” you laughed.
“don’t even, next time i’ll get you something for sure.”
“sure.” you rolled your eyes.
—
"ROBIN! look it!" you shouted at him, running towards him as he was walking into school. he paused and looked at you, now walking, towards him.
"i finally got the walkman everyone's talking about!!" you cheered, now accompanying robin while moving throughout the school property.
“those cost like 200 bucks right? you did not pay for that yourself.”
“well duh, i paid half, and my parents paid half, it was a gift for my birthday.”
“how much cassettes you got?”
"i only have like four, so far."
after a bit of walking, the two of you find a nice secluded area to sit near. it was close to your first class but not his, his was on the other side of the school, but he didn't mind being late, it's not like the class was that far; he always told you.
you pulled out the cassette tapes you liked and put on of them into the walkman, you pressed the play button and gave robin one of the ear buds. ten minutes went by and you and him spent the whole morning time listening to music together. the bell rung notifying the start of first period.
"alright, robin let's go—." you paused, robin's head lied on your shoulder, clearly sleeping. light snores left his lips and you decided to not move, not leave him.
you both were in a secluded spot behind the school so the only staff that would see you would be nosy janitors or other people skipping. you leaned your head on robin's and switched out another one of your mixtapes. god this was such a hassel, i hope in the future i can just play songs instead of constantly having to switch; you thought.
#the black phone#the black phone x reader#tbp x reader#the black phone x you#robin tbp#tbp robin#robin x reader#robin x you#robin arellano#robin arellano x reader#fanfic#fluff
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Our Future Days
Chapter 1 - *Pt.3*
SoapGhost TheLastofUs Au
OFD Masterpost (Includes Further Tag Warnings)
Chpt1 Masterpost
~1.5k Words
// Original Character
**********
"MacTavish, wake /uuuup/! Last warning before I dunk a bucket of water on you again..."
It takes a minute for the words to reach him through his comatose state, but when the words do finally process in the man's head, the threat of getting murky water from god knows where poured onto him quickly coaxes the Scotsman into moving. He jumps forward off the ground, almost bumping head first into the girl leaning over him.
"Alright, alright, I- /I'm up/," he yawns around his words, stretching his limbs out until an audible pop can be heard. “No need for the water theatrics again, ye little devil,” he mutters.
The teen next to him shakes her head, her eyes rolling as she tosses a wrapped up wad of parchment paper at him. "Here. You need to eat. Alex and my mom left you some scraps from this morning."
Johnny sits up on his knees and unwraps the package. Some sort of cooked game, likely rabbit, sits wrapped inside the paper. Johnny digs into the meat, gnawing at the cooked skin as he makes note of his surroundings.
They're sitting in the middle of a spacious foyer, a half-broken chandelier hanging over them, and their supplies lay strewn about the room. Old tables lined with gilded trimmings and loveseats adorned with lush fabrics are braced against the doors and windows, a film of dust collecting on them. A grand staircase wraps around the left side of the room, and late morning sunlight pours in through the glass doors out back past the kitchen.
"Shit, how late did you guys let me sleep in?" Johnny asks around a mouthful of rabbit.
The girl shrugs. "I dunno. Seemed like a few extra hours or so? Alex tried waking you up earlier, but you were not having it." She smirks at the man before continuing, "My mom offered to just go and scout with Alex instead, said you could use the rest."
Johnny groans fiercely at the news. "Goddammit Madison, you guys should've woken me up! Hell, kick me next time if you have to!" He waves his hand around as he talks, using it to swipe the irritation off of his creased brows. "That should have been my job. If they run into anything out there they can't handle, I'll-"
"Oh relax, Johnny!" she butts in. "For one, we did try kicking you, and it didn't work. And two, they can handle themselves out there just fine! They've done this sorta thing plenty of times before… Hell, they've dealt with just as much shit as you have."
"Ach! Language!" he reprimands, which earns him a very defiant tongue sticking out at him. Johnny responds by swatting at her leg, Madison, in kind, kicks away his hand with the point of her boot.
The two snicker at each other for a moment, their laughter bubbling over into a more solemn tone.
"Seriously though, they'll be fine. You trust them, right?"
"Och! Course I do… It’s just that this is the third time this week I’ve somehow managed to sleep through my patrol.”
“Well maybe if you didn’t work yourself to the bone like you’ve /been/ doing you wouldn’t be so tired.”
“‘M not ov’rworking m’self,” Johnny argues around a large bite of rabbit meat.
“You are!” Madison continues to reprimand him. “You don’t get enough sleep because you insist on keeping watch the whole night, you don’t eat enough because you keep rationing like we don’t have enough food or something-”
They don’t, really, this far into the journey, but that’s a little secret best kept between him and Alex.
“And what /really/ gets me is how you go out of your way to be the first one going through every doorway or around each corner. Seriously, it’s like you practically throw yourself at those things and it’s really starting to-”
“Oh Christ, Maddie, can you at least let me finish my breakfast before we start on this again?” Johnny begs. He knew the girl meant well and all, but after nearly three weeks, it was getting a little more than exhausting having the teenager scrutinize every other action he makes.
“No. I don’t mind, and I’m sure the rabbit doesn’t care either way,” she flips the better half of her auburn hair over her shoulder and crosses her arms.
Johnny had to admit, it honestly did amaze him that in the midst of of their harrowing, borderline-suicidal trek across open territory, she still managed to find the time to bestow upon him the imperious discontentment typical of a moody teenager.
“Look, I appreciate the concern Maddie… ‘Ay don’t give me that scoff, I mean it!” Johnny promptly moves past the jeer. “Now you’re not gonna like it, but I swear by it when I say that everything so far has been /categorically/ manageable in my books. Trust me, if you think this has been bad, you should’ve seen the last patrol our squadron got trapped on before me and Alex ditched the regiment. Did you know your skin turns all dark and purple if you’ve got a case of gangrene? Saw a guy with trench foot in our troop get it pretty bad.”
“Is this supposed to be reassuring somehow?”
“... Right, point being is that Alex and I, we’ve managed through plenty worse situations before. And I know it’s not much,” he reaches over and motions for Madison’s hand, she reluctantly holds it out for him to unwrap her balled up fist, twisting their pinky fingers together, “but what I can give you is a promise. I swear that if I feel that I’m pushing myself too far, I’ll let ye’s know, cross my heart and all. And in turn, you stop worrying that lil’ head of yours, that sounds like a fair deal to you?”
She seems to mull over his words, chewing on the inside of her cheek before eventually landing somewhere between dissatisfaction and despondence.
“I worry because I don’t want you getting hurt too, you know?”
Any lingering indignation Johnny felt at being lectured by the teenager melts away in an instant. He can’t hold any resentment towards the poor girl and her lectures, after all. He could see the lingering mournfulness in the way she fidgeted, the thought of her father surely flashing in her mind.
It’s been nearly a year now since the Kellers lost him. It still doesn’t make it any easier, he knows too well himself how the passage of time alone hardly makes the memories any less painful. Especially in a life like theirs, where no one’s afforded the luxury of a proper grievance, not when the next tragedy is waiting just around the corner.
Johnny gives her his best comforting smile. “Bah, you worry too much,” he says while bumping his fist against her shoulder. “Way too much for your age, I think you should trust that we’re all gonna turn out just fine. You know, I’ve got a good feeling on this one, a gut feeling that we’re gonna find something good at the end of all this, you’ve just gotta wait and see.”
“Mm, you sure that gut feeling isn’t the rabbit meat you just scarfed down?”
Johnny huffs a breath of laughter. “It’s not the fucking rabbit, Maddie.”
Madison’s expression morphs into a scornful, scrunched up expression. “Oh, so /you/ get to curse all you want to, but I can’t,” she scoffs.
“Well I’m not fifteen, Maddie,” he deadpans. “And I don’t have a mother as kind and considerate as yours. who’s only wanting the /best/ for you and who’s wishes you should respect-”
“Oh /brother/, now you sound like Alex,” if her eyes roll any farther back into her head, Johnny swears they might end up staying that way.
Ahh, and there it is again. That characteristically feisty temperament most teens are built with a natural disposition to.
If it’s a choice between the annoyed groans of displeasure, or the mournful sadness unbefitting any child not raised in as unjust a world as theirs, he’ll take the petulance any day of the week.
"I mean it. You’re not gonna lose me, or Alex, Mrs. K, or anybody else. I promise, alright?"
"Yeah… I know." She squeezes back his pinky, a sly grin growing on her face again. "Alright, but I’m not kidding when I say you better watch after yourself, or the next time I have to wake you up with a pail of water, I’m adding mud and worms to it."
Johnny pulls his hand back, putting on a show with his wide-eyed, shocked expression and his hand held tightly to his chest in mock offense. "Oh, you wouldn't /daaare!/ No, you’d never, you like me too much."
"Not as much as the worms will," she barks back, and his face contorts in hurt. He’s about to say another jab, but Madison pushes him over before he gets the chance.
She bounds towards the kitchen, yelling over her shoulder. "Alright, well I’ve had enough of all that, I’ll leave you to finish up your food. Oh, and start packing up your shit up so we can be ready before my mom and Alex get h-/eeere!/"
She narrowly dodges the rolled up parchment paper being launched at her head.
“Language!”
**********
The majority of Simon's body finally feels alive as he weaves his way through the hustle and bustle of the city streets…
*** To be continued in Pt.3***
#soapghost#ghostsoap#john soap mactavish x simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x john soap mactavish#ghoap#fanfic#long fic#fic in progress#ofd#ash writings
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Episode 26 of Pokemon Horizons! New arc let's go!!!
Now for the record, I absolutely love the Dokimeki Diary Opening, the new one can't be that goo-
(;O_o) Oh shit it is that good.
They fr put half the budget into this omg I LOVE THE VISUALS HERE HOLY CRAP- (the song is alright, 8/10) but my god does the song fit the theme
Hmmm. Gay?
Listen they're on Orio's Metagross flying through the skies behind the rest of the crew, Mollie's Chancy right there too- Like come on you see it right??
*inhales* OH HE'S SO HAVING AN ARC TRUST ME HERE OMG AMITHIO COME ON DUDE. THE FUCKING LYRIC TOO- "Now run forth! Towards my future!" like if that's not a hint I dunno what is. I should have screenshot his face after this part, cuz like hello?? It's so happening sooner or later. I am not delusional okay you guys have to trust me-
Okay Grandma, you got it! I love her character she's so nice!
The whimsy. The plodding along. Smile on it's face. Not a damn braincell behind those eyes. I am already attached.
Uh oh, is someone jealous Sprigattito? Well yeah, I saw this coming, Liko is obviously concerned for Terrapagos and Sprig here is gonna take it hard, being her first mon and all.
Plus. It's a cat. They like their attention.
JUMPSCARE
Also Hattenna flying out of the hoodie omg. Tiny little thing.
Anyways I didn't screenshot the next scene but Liko and Dot talked about how Terrapagos has finally woken up after decades of sleep inside the pendant. Of course it's curious. Baby didn't even eat the food the other mons were eating, it went for some berries below decks. Something that pokemon long ago ate. Something familiar to it.
Same, can't tell you how many times I've done some late night reading and had this happen to me (minus the books as a pillow) (no reason I thought this was funny)
ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME LITTLE GUY WHAT ARE YOU DOING OMG
Not shown here but it climbed all the way to the top and started calling out. To Lucius probably. Again, this little guy just woke up after a REALLY long time and probably doesn't know that Lucius is most likely... dead.
And considering the mystery behind what happened to Lucius, plus the recent revelation that the Explorers were his friends, we could assume he met a depressing end. Oh buddy wait till it finds out
Anyways Liko decided to just. CLIMB UP THERE TO SAVE THE LITTLE GUY. I mean yeah sure it was gonna slip and fall off and she didn't have time to call anyone BUT STILL
Also nice catch Grandma. Quick shoutout to Sprigattito for headbutting the door leading to the balcony which alerted Diana.
Alright, the picture seals it. They are related. The fucking intro also alludes to it too, with Liko, her mom, and Diana getting surrounded by energy from the pendant, and a very quick flyby of Lucius. With their startling blue eyes clear as starlight.
The same shade that all three of them share.
You get the point.
ALSO NEW DRIP!!!.... for a couple minutes before she realizes that Sprigattito feels neglected after a full day of her chaseing after the little turtle boi. Which is actually very important, we've seen just how much she cares about her mons, and it's the reason why Olivia and G-Moltress trusted her (well okay Moltress went with her after seeing Terrapagos.) We also got a potential reason behind seeing the memories of Lucius due to the pendant, Liko caring about them had a reaction in Terrapagos. Good to know.
Some things never change.
Very reminesent of the first episode and how they bonded. Liko finding Sprigattito. Her talking to it and explaining how she still cares for Sprig, even after everything they've been through. And the little cuddle and bap.
HISUI NAME DROP!!!!! FUCK YEAH!!!!
Anyways, they were discussing how'd they even find the mons, Lapras, Enti, Kleevor, and of course, Shiny Rayquazza. Enti being a roaming legendary, Kleevor being an ancient mon in of itself, though it's possibly in Sinnoh, scaring the locals based on the picture of it. And Lapras... it's in the ocean. Who knows where it could be in the first place (someone said Alolah is possible which I agree with)
We do know that Rayquazza is still here, in Galar, thanks to Dot. We're still getting him, and after that... who knows! (I just hope Roy gets his dream come true with catching it and all)
Oooooooohhhh is Amitheio still upset after that battle from last episode??? Damn that must have hit hard, losing a battle like that, and then Friede outright telling him that he's been holding back which what the fuck my man you don't just say that-
Pretty neat episode! Nothing too hard to digest, I loved it! Lets see where this new arc takes us!
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Scars(14)
Chapter 14: Bruce
Warning: a bit of angst
Loki and Alice continued their secret relationship for four months, and no one knew. Their late-night visits went undetected by the others. Then the Avengers started to go on a mission, leaving Loki behind with one or more teammates. Loki made a habit of pissing people off, so they often left him alone during these times. This also allowed him to sneak off to see Alice during the day.
And today was one of those days. Tony was saying his final farewell to Alice as he prepared to leave as the others prepared the quinjet.
“We should be back by tomorrow morning. Bruce and Loki are staying behind. You are to stay on your floor. I’ll send Bruce to check on you, and I’ll call before bed.”
“yes, sir” Alice knew this routine she was used to it already, but that didn’t mean she worried any less. Alice stood next to her window, watching the quinjet take off and into the distance.
When she was sure they were gone and out of sight, she turned around, grabbed her blanket, and took off to her room, where Loki was sitting and waiting for her at her desk.
With Cameras and security around the whole building, the only real place they could meet was her bedroom. While was indeed monitored by Jarvis, there was no camera or visual of her room to be seen. Unlike her previous accommodations.
She rushed for her ceiling swing chair as Loki pulled two books from a stack he’s brought from the library. Books her father probably would disapprove of.
“They’ve gone until tomorrow. Bruce is here”
Another thing about their visits Alice has started using her voice more, even If it is only for Loki. It took a while, but she started responding to Loki until she was telling him stories instead of the other way around. While it was no longer a whispered, her voice was still soft and gentle.
"well, that's good we'll be undisrupted," Loki says as he goes to hand her a book.
“Can you read to me today?”
“Alright, I have Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoyevsky. It might be a bit mature and violent for you, but it's a good book. If you don't like that, there is also 1984 by George Orwell. Which would you like?”
“I’ve heard of 1984. Daddy won’t like me reading that one.” Alice pouted looking at both books. Her father deprived her of many things, and she still had no clue as to why.
“You’re father’s not here. And he doesn’t need to know” Loki smirked Alice smiled as well. Letting out a giggle, Alice sat back as Loki made the decision to choose 1984, he hadn’t read it before, either.
He begins to read out loud. She lays back and closes her eyes, listening to his voice. This goes on for hours.
Even though the book is very interesting, with her chair swaying back and forth and Loki’s soothing voice, she eventually falls asleep.
Loki watches as she nods off at Part 2, chapter 3. Bookmarking their place, Standing up, he comes over, taking her blanket and covering her up further. Sitting back in his seat, he drifts off as well.
“WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL” Bruce shouts as he comes into Alice’s room to see Loki sleeping at her desk. Both Loki and Alice jump awake to see Bruce at her door.
"what is this? What is happening? Oh my god," Bruce started hyperventilation, and his eyes changed colors from brown to green.
“Dr. Banner, please. Let us-Let me explain.” Loki stood up while Alice shrank in her seat. Loki had seen and experienced Bruce's outburst first handed and did not want Alice to experience any of it.
Bruce takes a few deep breaths to calm himself, and then he basically growls, “ Explain”
Loki turned to Alice "Darling, how about you go to the kitchen and get something to eat. I'll be there soon" he gave her hand a kiss before watching her leave hesitantly.
Bruce looked to Loki "You're explaining"
"yes, um... The helicarrier"
"you meet on the helicarrier. I saw, everyone saw"
“...She’s a very kind girl. I appreciate and am drawn to her kindness. I don’t get much of it. She’s understanding, we have the same interests, and... she trusts me. I’m the god of lies, and she trusts me. I’ve never had that before, it feels strange to have it, but I want to keep it. I like this feeling.” Loki says in this mist of his emotions. “ She’s a good and Kind girl. And she is locked up here all day, all night, all alone with no one but her so-called father for company. I’ve never seen or heard her leave this floor all the time I've been in this tower. This is healthy. But if I can’t help her leave this place, the least I can do is keep her company.
You’re a doctor and a good man. Look me in the eye and tell me what is happening to her is okay.”
Bruce looks at the door, which she disappeared behind. What happening to her isn’t okay? He knew that all of them knew that. But most of them did nothing to stop him beyond a lecture here and there. Clint, who had his own daughter, was the only one who really stepped up and spoke more often than not, arguing with Tony about his daughter's treatment but between missions and his own children, he didn’t always have time to fight for her. Everyone else was bystanders.
“Did you tell her about New York?” Bruce asked
“ I didn’t need to,” Loki answered honestly. She didn’t ask, so he didn’t tell her, but he knew that he didn’t tell her anything that she already knew. Even if she never spoke about knowing. He knew she knew.
While the green was still there, Hulk was very much present, if not in anger, pity, and sadness.
Bruce sighed as he ran a face over his hand he groaned. He knew he would come to regret this, he knew he’d feel guilt, but...
“I won't tell Tony or the others. But if she hurt her, I’ll remove your limbs from your body, watch you bleed out, and stomp on your corpse.
Loki agreed quickly, she was his only friend on earth he wasn’t going to leave or hurt her.
Alice sat in the kitchen, waiting patiently for one of them to come out, in front of her were three sandwiches, two on one plate and one on the other plate. Hearing footsteps coming her way, she looks up at Bruce. She pushes the plate with the single sandwich toward him.
“Thank you,” he says he opens his mouth to say something else, but nothing comes to mind. Reaching for her, he squeezes her hand and leaves with nothing else to say.
And with nothing being said, she was left to assume.
Taking the plate with two sandwiches to her room to find Loki sitting at her desk still.
She stood at the door threshold. “I... ar-re we okay?” she stuttered.
“Hey, Hey, it’s okay, we’re okay.” Loki crossed the room to hug her, putting the plate on her dresser. Loki held her to his chest as she cried, worried about the outcome of their outing. He tried to tell her it would be alright, but she wouldn’t hear it.
Loki would be sent back to prison, and she would return to hers. That’s all she could think of as she sobbed into his chest. This would be their end, she thought.
-
Fortunately for her, she’d be wrong, and Bruce would keep quiet and allow their friendship to continue untouched and unseen.
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sry i love the idea of survivor bti rebecca so much cuz just imagine for a sec some drabble that starts off similar to a springtrap x reader fic like frighteningly intriguing or smthn but instead of romance its like “the fuck thats my dad” it would be so hilarious
Ohoho. Hoh. Y’all really just like my shit mashed together with other people’s universes huh? This definitely got me thinking though because @glitchysquidd’s notebook pages are quite compelling… After reading what I could of it to get an idea, this is going to be far from hilarious. It is going to be god awful, especially since poor Rebecca in this blurry fnaf timeline is still technically a minor. I hope the original creator of Frighteningly Intriguing does get a kick out of this though. Your stuff is a very fun read and I worked hard to make this even remotely comparable.
No read more because tumblr is glitching my text when I use it. Trigger warnings for autism meltdowns, flashbacks, trauma, and the obvious mentions of death. Let’s go…
It All Comes Back to Haunt You
“Ugh…”
A teenage girl groaned as she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket again. Micheal would not leave her the hell alone. She had spoken with Tim and Samantha already. They seemed more excited about her “past experience” with the animatronics than anything else. Her brother was supposed to take the job, but after a horrible amount of hallucinations he got just entering the building, she volunteered. He was not happy about it, but Henry wouldn’t let him go back until he recovered.
She had one night to actually be able to do something besides sit at home and hope the rest of her loved ones didn’t die horribly. This was her chance to prove herself in a sense. The Afton name followed her even after witness protection tried to erase it from her records. Her classmates knew who her father was. Of course they did. There was a whole fanbase of people who idolized him. Others stuck to throwing cafeteria food at her and telling her she should’ve died by her father’s hand and joined the rest of them.
She couldn’t say she disagreed…
Looking over the note left for her, she wandered around the empty horror attraction, searching for the other employee she was meeting up with. A couple of her peers wanted to trick her into coming to this place on halloween to cause her to have flashbacks. She heard their plans while eating lunch one day. What’s weird is she didn’t feel like she was reliving past trauma at all. The animatronics she just stumbled upon, the old models… Those were her friends… Hell, one of them was her own brother. They saved her life that night…
The teen didn’t flinch when Freddy’s head moved a bit, dead eyes sparking in recognition. Instead she just mumbled awkwardly, “H-hi, Gabe… I uh… hope everyone’s been doing alright… I’ll come see you later, o-okay…?”
“Let us sleep…” A ghostly child’s voice grumbled tiredly.
“S-sorry, guys…”
She didn’t argue, slowly shutting the door and continuing her search, soon overhearing faint conversation. Rebecca felt Micheal blowing up her phone again, and finally looked.
“Is his workshop still there? Henry wants to know if you could snap some pictures of blueprints.”
That was a good question, and she just stumbled upon the answer. Why was it wide open? Maybe her employers found it? Yeah, she’d go with that. The room was like a time capsule, mesmerizing her in an encompassing nostalgia. She remembered playing in this room so much as a little girl… Her father used to sit right here with her on his lap and she’d scribble on his scrap paper—
No. No no no. No diving into the past. Pulling out her phone, she snapped a few pics and tried to leave. The familiar head of a yellow rabbit lying against the wall froze her solid. Maybe she had underestimated the amount of trauma this task would bring back… Oh God… Was that her brother’s picture, and the address written after the bite? Her heart was starting to hurt more than her head…
“Who’s there?!”
A voice made her jump, putting down papers she was sifting through. A slightly beat up figure approached.
“Listen, don’t make me call the police, kid—“
Rebecca handed over the note, noticing the other person squint tiredly.
“You’re the one they hired to shadow me? You’re a little young.”
She nodded, “I-I’m Rebecca. My uh… my brother couldn’t make it…”
“Fine…” Her new coworker didn’t seem too thrilled for some reason, “Come on. I guess you gotta meet Dave.”
“Dave?” Rebecca echoed in bewilderment, “I thought they said we were the only two employees he—“
“Dave’s not an employee. He’s kinda scary. Smells awful. Walking biohazard. Still, he’s pretty cool.”
What the fuck were they talking about? If this “Dave” wasn’t a staff member then— Did they mean an animatronic they named Dave for comedic effect?
Then she saw it. The head peeking from around the distant corner down the hall… The head of the other Spring Bonnie suit. The same one she watched springlock her father when she was six, while she was on the ground with a knife in her body. She froze, feeling her heart drop to her feet.
“W-what the hell is that?!”
“That’s Dave...” Her mysterious coworker shrugged, “No need to actually be scared of him. He’s…relatively harmless…”
Rebecca knew for a fact his name wasn’t Dave. Her dad was just as bad at coming up with fake names to hide his identity as Micheal was. God, if she ever made it home, Henry and Mikey would not be happy to hear William Afton was back. This poor innocent person had no idea who they were dealing with! What should she say? Could she say something?!
Nope… She was in full meltdown mode now, totally mute. The teen felt her mind leave the current moment and rewind back years in the past. Her mother had convinced her she made up her family outside of herself and Micheal… She didn’t even recognize William as her father until he forced her to look at the suit that jogged her memory. He held her and told her he loved her, before a sharp pain pierced her back. She recalled seeing the ghosts of the children and the puppet standing between them… Then the springlocks went off. His screams haunted her as she passed out.
After that… It was a long stay at the hospital, which made her remember the siblings she was told she made up all the more… Loads of therapy later, she was staying with Micheal and Henry trying to repair her life to some form of normalcy without her mother… The best thing her father did was set her free from her mother, but that was besides the point. All the while the traumatic experience became the talk of the world, it seemed. True crime podcasts, news reports, so many fans of the franchise trying to find her and ask her about her experiences…
This was all some spooky story to the rest of the world, and this hooky horror attraction all but proved it. It was all fun and games until your siblings died and your father comforted you as he stabbed you in the back both figuratively and literally. Of course…
When she finally grounded herself, she nearly lost all the air in her lungs as she realized he was now a foot away from her.
“Dave! Personal space! Can’t you see she’s freaked out?!” Her coworker was starting to get concerned.
The animatronic rabbit rolled his eyes, all but confirming to Rebecca this was definitely still her dad. He was the type to scoff at anyone giving him advice in such a situation. His dead eyes almost seemed concerned when he shifted his gaze to her. That terrified her further. The last time he looked concerned for her was when she got stabbed.
“Hey hey…” The other employee spoke slightly softer, “Dude all the color is gone from your face… Here, sit down… Try to breathe… I’m gonna grab you some water…”
WAIT.
NO.
DON’T LEAVE HER ALONE WITH—
Her phone was buzzing like crazy. She didn’t dare take it out. She couldn’t. Trying to breathe, she gasped and choked on air as “Dave” sat down next to her, far too casually. This was painful. Was he trying to give her cardiac arrest?!
He was totally silent, besides the sounds of his joints ticking and popping unnaturally with his movements. It occurred to her with the stench that his body was still in there, making her gag. Her attempts to catch her breath were the loudest sounds for a few moments. It was almost calm… until she felt a hand on her back.
She would have screamed if she had any voice to scream with. Instead, the teen stiffened at the feeling of his hand feeling over her shirt, clearly noticing the slight bump of the scar she had down her back from his own actions. His eyes almost lit up at that, whether in a positive or negative way she had no idea. It seemed he was surprised she didn’t pull away. It was because she couldn’t due to paralyzing terror.
“S-stop pretending already…” She stammered, “I-if you want to finish it… J-just—“
His ears drooped slightly, and he almost sighed…?
What was up with him?! He wouldn’t even say a single word to her after all of what he put her through?! Wait… Could he even talk?
Footsteps made Rebecca relax a bit as her coworker had returned with water. She grabbed their arm to be helped up, and eagerly created space between herself and the figure sitting next to her. She pulled out her phone and with trembling hands found herself not texting her brother or Henry for help. She just left them on read. As much as she wanted to believe her own father was safe, it could seal her doom like it did before. She knew not to underestimate him, but she didn’t want to be a coward…
She was also worried about this other person who had no idea what they were up against. This was no time to fear the results of her actions. This was potentially another life on the line. She typed on the notes app on her phone and showed it to her coworker.
“I can’t talk right now, but please listen to me. Dave isn’t his name. He’s lying.”
“What? How would you know his name? You just got here.” They scoffed, almost playfully, obviously not taking her seriously, “I think you’re still in shock, dude…”
She could feel her father’s eyes on her even without looking up from the screen. As much therapy as she went through and as much as she knew her father did terrible things, she couldn’t help but feel guilty for doing anything to harm him. It was still her father, after all… Is it bad she missed him? After remembering all the things her mother told her were her imagination filling in loneliness from her autism… Was it bad she wanted her whole family back?
She was jolted out of her feelings when Henry tried calling her, but she pressed decline. This happened about three more times with Micheal’s number within the next two minutes.
“Yeesh…” Her new acquaintance commented jokingly, “Family won’t get off your back, huh? I don’t miss being your age, that’s for sure. Nobody thinks you’re capable of anything.”
Finally, a text from Mikey sealed her fate for the night and any future nights.
“That’s it. I’m coming to get you.”
She spat out the water she sipped, confused at why she was upset Micheal was coming to save her… Well… Rebecca still felt like she didn’t deserve to be saved the first time, so… Maybe it was that with her dad still here, she was finally hoping for this nightmare to end how it should have back then? She should’ve died. That was all she ever heard from doctors and police and kids at school… Yet she continued on living… She couldn’t count how many times people who knew who she was related to expected her to “snap” just like her parents.
As much as she loved Micheal and Henry for supporting her, she felt like she dragged them down by not being able to hate her father’s guts like they did. She was so young when it happened. Her mind was so cloudy on whether he actually cared in those moments or not. It was so confusing… Her mother’s gaslighting made it difficult enough without finding out her father was real and a serial killer. Then there was the matter of how just before she was born this whole mess started…
What did she do wrong to make her happy family fall apart before her very eyes…? Should she have been born at all…? Was she the one to blame for all of this? Of course. Who else would it be…? All those kids who died… Her mother being killed while baking her birthday cake because she just had to go see the animatronics she was banned from seeing that day with Mr. Emily… This all wouldn’t have happened if she hadn’t been what he was after… It was all her fault. She knew it deep down, too…
“Shit… A-Are you crying…?” The voice of the adult beside her sounded worried, “Was it something I said— DAVE! YOU ARE NOT FUCKING HELPING!”
The rabbit stiffened at being screamed at, but still stood up and approached. Before anyone could stop him, he hugged this seemingly random teenager in a manner uncharacteristic to his entire personality.
“What the hell’s gotten into y—“
Rebecca’s eyes shot open wide, as she began shivering and losing strength in her feet. She was prepared for the pain of the knife…a springlock mechanism… something to impale her and leave her bleeding out on the grimy floors, like just another prop in this haunted house built around her trauma.
…Yet nothing came. No stabbing, no blood coughed out of her mouth... This wasn’t like before. This was…just a hug? A…real one? From him?! She finally looked up at the masked face, silently demanding some sort of answer behind the whirlwind of emotion she was trapped in. He didn’t say a word, looking down at her and daintily moving some hair out of her eyes. His hold on her was careful, but also possessive. He wanted to keep her close to him for as long as he could…
Eventually the third figure pried her out of the rabbit’s steel grip, much to his upset as he stomped his foot to make a loud thud echo down the hallway. Her phone vibrated. Rebecca knew her brother was waiting outside, and would rather not have him break in to see this. She slowly turned to the door, shaken and shocked by what had unfolded. She almost wanted to go back to hug him one last time. No way she would be allowed back once Micheal and Henry found out…
“My rides here… They want me to come home. My brother is gonna come instead. He just needed someone else to cover for one night…”
She showed the phone mainly to the other person, but her father did see what it said and nodded solemnly, much to her surprise.
Springtrap followed them to the doorway as much as he could without being seen, and watched as his more recently met friend sent off the teen, who ended up running straight to a hooded figure. Micheal was taking care of her at least… He could overhear the conversation.
“She had a panic attack or something when she saw one of the animatronics in the attraction.” The employee’s voice sounded confused, but also slightly dismissive, “Probably just a little spook.”
“Thanks for looking out for her.” Micheal replied, “Can I ask which one of them it was?”
“J-just Bonnie.” Rebecca piped up suddenly.
Wait. Did his daughter just cover for him… or was she scared of Micheal’s reaction to finding out he was still here…?
William felt like it was both, but that included the former, and that nearly melted his dead metal heart. God, of course she still cared about him. She was too young to actually have the capacity to hate him for what he’d done to her back then. She was the youngest child he ever attempted killing. This wasn’t supposed to end like this for her… It stung seeing her still impacted by it after all these years. This wasn’t supposed to be her fate.
He wished he had gotten the job done on the night of her sixth birthday, if only to spare her from this haunting her for the rest of her life.
After the pair of siblings left, the only words that came next were:
“Dave, what the flying fuck was that?”
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Alright, so I just might actually write tomorrow cause Tears of the Kingdom is driving me batty with these piss poor weapons everywhere. I don't feel like rocking up to a boss again with a rock glued to a long stick for 7 damage when in BoTW I'd hoard swords with 20s and 30s at every opportunity 😭
And the hands oh God the hands 😨
But this weekend is gonna be a tad busy as I'm turning 27 on Monday! So we... Might be doing something Saturday or Monday? Not sure yet. Roomie wants to get cake again and idk how to gently beg for normal ass cake. Last time she insisted on getting fancy cake despite my protests and I could barely finish a small slice. It wasn't bad, something along the lines of black forest cake with cherries and dark chocolate??? Idk, the taste was too rich and overwhelming it's the tism.
She also wants to go to an arcade and dinner with a mutual friend and her bf but fuck I just wanna disappear into my room and not emerge for a solid two days at least, not a single word to anyone. Maybe sleep at least half of that. I've already gone out to eat once with her, my bro, and his friend this month can I please die in introverted peace
If I had a damn computer that could handle it, I'd set up a stream and game but mine struggles with Power wash Simulator on big maps so the streaming experience is... Difficult to put it lightly. Unfortunately cause somehow those crazy bastards got SpongeBob DLC?!? ALONG WITH LAURA CROFT MANOR AND FINAL FANTASY?!?!?
But! I've got I think 3 inbox messages to handle, a pending request, and my already promised 2 yan romance AUs that I hope to do soon!
Thank you everyone who's been around, come around, and just generally vibed with me! One Piece has unexpectedly given me many new friends that have genuinely made my life brighter despite my *gestures to all of me* uuuuhhhhhhh....
Low-key bitchyness and socially awkward ways?
Never really been a people person (and a little too neurospicy for small town USA to be socialized anyway), let's put it that way. I relate too hard with Ace in a lot of ways and that's probably not a good thing lmao
ANYWAY! Enough of the feels! I gotta go to bed, I just wanted to catch y'all up on stuff for anyone eagerly awaiting a response to their message or promised content!
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PART 10 The gods with us
Moon knight x reader
Warnings: Spoilers, cursing, violence, god and goddess things, anxiety and depression, mental issues, eventual smut, tension, intimacy, age gap, angst, PTSD, trauma, hurt/comfort
Last part <-
Morning had risen too quickly, your sleep surprisingly calm with no nightmares. You slowly opened your eyes seeing a figure sitting up in your bed. You frowned at the hunched over figure and sat up yourself.
“Hey” you said touching his shoulder and shuffling forward. He flinched and you apologised removing your hand.
“Sorry” it was Steven this time, hand running through his hair.
“What’s the matter?” You said softly wary of your mum in the next room over.
“Yeah” he muttered mind obviously far away. You sighed sadly hugging his free arm, resting your head on his shoulder. His body stiffened head rolling back, you looked up thinking it might’ve been Marc. It wasn’t him though, or Steven.
“Jake?” You said slowly letting go of his arm. His free hand held your arm though, so you didn’t move.
“You ok?” You asked unsure of how to act around him. He muttered something, in Spanish you assumed.
“I have work” you jumped at Khonshus voice.
“He’s busy” you snapped at him.
“Jake isn’t your comfort toy worm” Khonshu said and Jake turned. His eyes were dark and glaring at the god, if he had hackles they would be up.
“She is not a worm” Jakes accent was thick like Stevens only this time in Spanish. Khonshu turned to the window and groaned as he disappeared. You frowned seeing Bastet in your back yard giving you a thumbs up.
“The others have blacked out” he states.
“That’s ok” you said unsure of what to say.
“You don’t know me” he said voice low as he stared at the wall. You tensed a little, trying to find the right words and wake up a little. He hadn’t let go of your hand, and you hadn’t let go of his arm. He sighed looking to the bed, the arm you were holding moving. You let go but he placed his hand on your thigh. You were wearing PJ shorts so they weren’t really covering much leg at the moment. You also hadn’t shaved in a week or two. His hand just squeezed gently, you were staring at it, unaware of his intense gaze on you.
“You’re soft” he muttered voice by your ear. You turned suddenly heart pounding as his eyes met yours. It was strange seeing three different pairs in one set. His head leant against yours, his breathing deeper as you tried to comprehend what was happening.
“I’ve killed many people” he admitted making you tense.
“Many” he muttered.
“I know” you said shakily.
“Makes you scared” he said as you tried to calm your breathing.
“I’ve- I’ve killed people” you whispered aloud for the first time. You shuddered at the memory and tried to focus on something else.
“It eats at you though” he stated.
“Like Khonshu ate at Marc” he added. He hadn’t moved his head or his hand, thumb gently rubbing circles into your flesh.
“Me? It fills me” he said and you frowned.
“Brings me pleasure to kill someone” those words should’ve struck you with fear, made you push him away but you didn’t.
His hand moved from your thigh to lift your hand by the wrist, you were shaking as he finally moved his head. His palm flattened and rested against yours and you looked away.
“Can I have Marc or Steven back, please?” you mumbled pulling your hand from his and moving away. He made no sound as he shuffled behind you.
“Oh god what happened” Steven spoke and you flinched. You were hugging yourself, tears in your eyes as you shook.
“I blacked out, bloody hell, what’s-“ Steven stopped maybe noticing your form.
“Hey, what’s happened? You all right?” He moved to sit by you and you shook your head.
“Oh god” he muttered as you leant into his chest sobbing.
“Hey, hey” he hushed softly arms going around you a bit stiffly.
“Hey, what’s happened?” He asked again but you shook your head.
“Alright” he whispered gently rocking you both.
A knock came on your door and your mum opened it.
“Morning love-“ she cut her sentence off.
“Steven” she said.
“Hiya mum” he said softly.
“She’s uh, she’s not good this morning” he explained.
“Alright, I’ll make us some breakfast, come out when you’re ready” your mum said closing the door again.
“Love you gotta talk to me so I can fix it yeah?” He said as you just shook your head again. You couldn’t just say it was Jake his secret identity that made them black out.
“Let’s get some breakfast then yeah?” He whispered and you nodded. You walked out with Steven behind you, hair a mess, face sticky from tears as you sat by the table. You grabbed some tissues and wiped your eyes and nose.
“Morning” Steven went to the kitchen to help your mum.
“Is it alright me being here?” He asked her and she looked to you.
“I don’t wanna, I mean I stayed the night here with your daughter, in the same bed” he was babbling and embarrassed.
“I’m gonna go put this on the table” he muttered and walked away. He sat down, running a hand through his hair again as your mum brought breakfast.
“You can stay here Steven, as long as she needs” Your mum smiled softly at you.
“She hasn’t connected like this with anyone in a while” she said sadly and you tensed.
“Don’t know why anyone would leave her, she’s beautiful” he said smiling a boyish smile at you.
“There hasn’t been anyone to leave me” you muttered and he frowned.
“I’ve never had a boyfriend Steven” you said and he froze.
“No?” He said baffled. It lightened your mood at his state.
“No” you shook your head.
“But you’re like, super cool and beautiful and all that” he said and you laughed faintly.
“Thanks Steven” you chuckled softly again.
“If you need to go home that’s ok, I don’t think I’ll do anything today” you said poking your food a bit.
“I might need a shower and some new clothes” he said and you nodded.
“I’ll come back later yeah? I gotta feed Gus and Gary too” he added.
“Who’s Gus and Gary?” Your mum asked.
“My fish” he said smiling a little stupidly.
Next part ->
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FE: Engage - Chapter 7
silly divine dragon
Supports
Alear & Chloé C
watching him sleep...again?
😀 what the hell 😀
I mean shoot your shot ig?
Alfred & Céline B
Our first B support!
"You're a barbarian in prince's clothing." / "Thanks! 😊😊" .
Not him flexing like 🦴.
Vander & Framme B
Etie & Boucheron C
Clanne & Vander C
hunky-dory!
Alear & Yunaka C
Alear & Ćeline C
not a comment on the support itself, but interesting that some of her dislikes in the ally notebook include 'overwhelming happiness' and 'forced positivity'...
oh god Chloé's here watching us sleep again.
oop DLC time
LMAO 'Emblem of Rivals'
"I thought Dimitri's stories were getting better with every telling." oh god.
okay, I put Micaiah on Framme so I can get some staff skills. I also put Yunaka w/ Marth, to get some avoid skills.
skirmish time!
skirmish time over! it was fun using marth on someone else.
Céline & Louis C
I just fucking realised Louis is J. Michael Tatum.
Clanne & Louis B
I really need to see the A support.
what is it cooking.
finally, awoken by Alfred; in a conversation that sounded like innuendos 😌.
arena time!
okay, paralogue time!
oh boy, it's Anna.
...she just hid in a chest.
[BATTLE START]
Alear's after-kill laugh line 😳
oh shit, master seal!.
[POST BATTLE]
Alear when someone brings up family: 🥺
Alfred & Yunaka C
Abso-tutly!
She called him a silly lad. She's so real.
WDYM you get that question a lot 😭😭. Oh, even yunaka pointed it out.
Framme & Clanne B
Extrovert vs Introvert.
"Who cares about the Divine One's shoe size?" / "We do." pfft
Céline & Chloé B
please kiss already.
Céline & Jean C
Clanne & Vander B
Alear & Boucheron C
"Going to war is stressful for anyone." 10/10 commentary /j.
Alfred & Boucheron C
Starting off with a "Nice~" from Alfred while staring at Boucheron. Also what were those sounds, Boucheron.
Oh, this is the Alfred thirsting over Boucheron's muscles.
"I heard you have some trouble waking up" oh Alfred...
Okay more supports.
Alear & Louis C
Okay, gonna do the Emblem Tiki paralogue.
Mar-mar!
[BATTLE START]
oh god this map's big. I haven't plays any Archanea games, but I assume this is a reference map.
OMG that map almost killed me. There's was this one dodge I really needed from Chloé that she couldn't do, so then she was in danger + stranded, so I had to save her and yada yada it was a mess. Yunaka w/ edel emblem really saved me in the last few turns.
Anyway, I still did enjoy the map!
[POST BATTLE]
aww, I'm glad to see marth & tiki talk. I wish there were more interesting emblem/emblem conversations.
Alfred & Sigurd B reminded me that Lumera asked him something that we didn't see...what does he know.
omfg Edel talking about impressions to Yunaka is so fucking funny since all the house lords did at least 1 in houses 💀💀💀
Alear & Framme B
"The Divine Dragon loooves to drink water." so true! a great reminder to be like Alear and drink up!
Framme is even a fan of the pepsi hair.
Framme & Cholé C
Céline & Etie B
I loved that little Etie animation when she said "And look at me now!"
oh my god it's the training teacups again.
Yunaka & Etie C
"Whatcha need, pumpkin-seed?"
Etie & Clanne B
so the ally notebook now says that she has a distant relation to Vander...interesting.
WTF is judging beets.
Alear & Alfred B
If Alear won't eat them, I sure will.
Alfred playing the flute to help Alear sleep 😀
He really is trying his best though.
noooo Alfred, Alear should be the worthy one, not you!
'[Alfred] was ill as a child, and now seeks to compensate through exercise' 🥺🥺
okay, chapter map time.
lmao "[I'm doing] even worse then usual."
anyway, as expected, I love Alcryst very very much.
she's just like me fr.
we be getting some xenophobia up in here.
[BATTLE START]
Rosado & Goldmary seem like my fav retainer duo so far, just from one conversation.
oh dear, cordelia!Lucina's here.
well that map felt pretty easy.
[POST BATTLE]
man, I hope Lyn's alright...
Well, chapter over!
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𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐅𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐁𝐀𝐄 - 𝐂𝐒𝐌 𝐗 𝐆𝐍!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑.
— characters: Denji, Aki, Power, Yoshida, Kishibe.
— a/n: IGHT MY FIRST CSM HCS. So excited. Tell me if you guys want more.
#𝐌.𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 #𝐊𝐎-𝐅𝐈 #6𝐊𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓
#𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐈
Every breakfast that denji ever tried to prepare, came out disaster. But today, the sun might have risen from the west. When you woke up, there was actual food in front of you. The one that hadn't turned into a disaster.
"Oh my god. You made it? Finally? I'm so proud of you baby," you wrap your arms around him.
"Had'ta do it for you, m'love. If you want, I'll prepare a thousand more for you, over and over," he catches your lips, locking it with his. You taste the strawberry syrup on his lips. He must've sneaked some in while making.
"Taste it" He mumbles.
"I'd love to taste it on your lips," your fingers swipe the strawberry syrup off the waffle, and smear it on his lips. "Let's dig in."
#𝐀𝐊𝐈
Aki barely had time lately. Makima would always call him and he'd be so upset to not talk to you the first thing in the morning since he doesn't want to disrupt your sleep. But he'd always kiss your forehead before he left.
Today, you woke up with the noise of something sizzling in the kitchen. When you went to look, it was Aki in an apron, flipping the veggies over in the pan.
"What're you doing?" You mumble enough for him to hear.
"Hey, sweetheart. You're up. Sorry if I disturbed your sleep," he says, emptying the cooked veggies on the plate, beside the tamagoyaki.
"I haven't been around much lately. So I today took a day off and thought to make you something." You could see it his eyes. As much as you know he's busy, he's still upset for not spending much time with you. He kisses your hair and hands you your toothbrush. "Go, freshen up. Til' I plate everything. Okay, love?"
#𝐏𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑
Power managed to somehow fuck things up everytime. But A for effort. She isn't an expertise but she gives her all.
You woke up, walked towards the kitchen to make coffee, only to find it prepared on the counter. Surprisingly, power was even making breakfast for you.
"Oh baby. You don't have to do all this," you tried to take the spatula from her hand, but she pulled away, insisting on continuing.
"But I want to," she whined, flipping the pancackes. "Look. I made them in heart shape!"
Well they weren't quite heart shaped but as I said A for effort and the loving gesture.
When you took a bite off the platez you felt your tastebuds irritating. Turns out she poured salt instead of grounded sugar. But hey. She tried so hard. The least you can do is eat it. It was worth the smile on her face though.
#𝐘𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐃𝐀
Yoshida did fuck up a couple of times while trying to make you the perfect breakfast, but he pulled out some way.
"Yoshi, baby, I'm hungry," you whine from the dining table.
"Just a minute, baby. Don't rush me. I might fuck this up again." He's so determined and focused. You have no idea what's cooking in his head. Or his pan. "Alright here."
You didn't know what you expected but it was definitely not this. He made you a rose shaped pancake.
"OH MY GOD. BABY! WHERE DID YOU LEARN THIS?" You scream in excitement.
"Learnt this for you. From one of those youtube channels," he's so happy to see your reaction. "Do you like it?"
"I love it. Not more than you though."
#𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐁𝐄
Kishibe is an ultimate husband. He is kind of person who's very romantic but act so subtle.
Stemmed roses next to a blueberry waffle, cute little encouraging note, and a glass of juice with a heart shaped strawberry in it. Now you can't tell me all of this isn't romantic.
"Oh my god. Is this for me?"
"No, sweetheart. It's for the birds outside the window." You roll your eyes. "Of course it's for you. Why would I feed the birds my rare waffles?"
"So they can come to our window daily for more so I get to eat delicious breakfast everyday," you smirk.
"Haha. Nice try. I am leaving in five—" he couldn't complete the sentence. You pressed your lips against his, tightly.
"Stay. Have breakfast with me," you said, stroking the marks near his lips.
"Anything for you love."
Tags: @venussins @cyancherub @smoothy-ve @dukina @koifish69 @psycho-nightrose @remington-cloves @hanmasin @chosoisbaby @xo-lynx @gojoussunglasses @chiizfuyu @sleepy3 @lxlxthh @kirissluttypebble @somerandompipzsxh @sauza @narmisseite @rii-bows @ceeeearl @lordbugs @xybrwhore @sabyss
#csm x reader#csm x you#denji x reader#aki x reader#yoshida x reader#kishibe x reader#power x reader#csm fluff#denji fluff#aki fluff#aki hayakawa x reader#chainsaw man x reader#chainsaw man fluff#csm headcanons
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