#anyways when he said once i found out i would help my mom buy the gifts............... babygirllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

avatar-anna · 3 months

Note

I feel like we haven’t seen much of youngmom reader super pregnant with her 7 babies??? Maybe I just don’t remember but I’d love to see y/n throughout her pregnancies! If not it’s okay I love ALL YOUR WORK!! ❤️

Baby Fever

Young Dad! Harry Styles x Young Mom! Reader Masterlist

i was too tired to include charlie. sorry!

Simone

Y/n sighed as she looked over her figure in the mirror, her shoulders slumping at the sight of her unbuttoned jeans and swollen belly. Looking down, she glared pointedly at the bump, saying, "Damn you, Harry."

She tried to button up her jeans one last time to no avail, then fell back on the bed behind her. It was Harry's, Y/n didn't feel comfortable enough to call it hers too, even though he insisted his home was hers now. The mattress was plush enough for her to sink into, and the sheets were softer than soft, she just felt like she was a guest staying in someone else's home.

It didn't help that she was alone most days. If Y/n had thought Harry had a busy schedule before all of this, she sorely underestimated the hectic schedule he had on a daily basis. The first half of her pregnancy, Harry was gone on tour promoting One Direction's latest album. When he came back to London, he was gone almost all day for interviews and late night talk shows and performances at radio stations. Work seemed neverending, and when Harry did eventually trudge through his front door, he was pretty much dead on his feet.

It was a weird situation that they were in, but nothing about their relationship had ever been typical.

Not really caring what kind of important meeting or interview he was having, Y/n pulled out her phone, scrolling through her contacts until she landed on the right person.

"Y/n! It's good to hear from you! How've you been?"

"Put him on the phone, Louis. I need to talk to him. Please," she said, adding please after realizing how harsh she sounded.

Louis was quick to do as she asked, though. Y/n could hear him rustling and calling out until he eventually found her boyfriend.

There was a time when Y/n didn't think she could call Harry that. She'd always liked him. Since the day they met, they were both absolutely smitten with each other, anyone could see that. But when she found out she was pregnant, things shifted. Y/n and Harry's relationship catapulted into chaos, and before they could even have the boyfriend-girlfriend conversation, they were suddenly nine months away from being parents.

Over time, they got to that place they'd been in before Y/n got pregnant. They had the boyfriend-girlfriend conversation, and now they were happy.

Well, for the most part.

"Hey, love, what's up? Everything okay?"

The sound of Harry's voice soothed and frustrated her all at once. Tears, which had been an unwelcome side effect of her pregnancy, began to well in her eyes.

"My jeans don't fit anymore."

There was silence between them, Y/n's words floating between them until it was eventually broken by Harry's laughter.

"It's not funny!" she insisted, even though she began to giggle alongside him.

"Baby," Harry said once his laughter subsided. "Why are you trying to put jeans on anyway? Are you going somewhere?"

"No, I've just gained so much weight. I feel like a blob, and you're partly to blame."

Y/n knew the baby bump was coming, she knew there would come a time when jeans and tops wouldn't fit and she'd have to buy clothes that were more accommodating to the baby growing in her belly. She just didn't expect to be this emotional about it. It was probably just the hormones.

"I'm sorry, baby," Harry said, a note of seriousness in his voice that Y/n appreciated even though she knew she was being slightly unreasonable. "I still think you're the prettiest girl I've ever laid eyes on."

Groans of protest and disgust erupted from Harry's side of the phone, followed by teasing at Harry's sappy words. "I came in here for privacy! Don't complain when you hear shit you didn't want to hear!" he told his bandmates. He mumbled something about never getting a moment alone anymore and nosy pricks, which made Y/n giggle as he presumably found a new place to talk to her privately.

In a hushed voice, he said, "I don't like it when you cry, baby."

"I wasn't planning on it," she sniffled. "I know I should've anticipated this, but now my belly sticks out and nothing fits me and I look horrible."

"No you don't," Harry said, not missing a beat. He didn't have to see her to know she looked just as gorgeous as she always did. Baby bump or no baby bump. "Put your sweats back on, love. I'll bring home dinner and we'll watch a movie."

"Really?" Y/n asked, and Harry could all but imagine her watery smile. "Because the baby's craving hot wings, and I know you don't like them."

Shaking his head, he promised, "Don't worry. Text me what you want. I'll be home soon."

"I—Thank you. B—Bye."

Harry's breath hitched, his phone still pressed to his ear even after she'd hung up. He knew what Y/n had been about to say, at least he was ninety percent sure he knew. He could only hope she was going to say, "I love you." Neither of them had said it to each other before, not wanting to get lost or caught up in the emotions of having to baby together. But Harry knew. He'd known for some time now. He just didn't want to scare her by just how deep his feelings went.

Slipping his phone into his pocket, Harry went back into the green room where the rest of the boys were. He took the ribbing they gave him for being "smitten" and "whipped." But he didn't care. Y/n was waiting for him to bring her dinner, and that was really all he could think about as the minutes ticked by until he could go home.

*.*

Collette

Y/n couldn't help the slacking of her jaw as she watched her husband.

Sure, she'd seen him a number of different ways—working out, doing handiwork around the house, performing onstage, dressed for a red carpet—but here, as he wore a tiara and held a tiny teacup with pretend tea in it and sat across from his daughter, Y/n had never been more turned on in her life.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. Yesterday it was the way her husband had offered to go to the grocery store for her, and just an hour ago it was how he hummed to himself while he made breakfast for her and Simone. Shirtless. By now, Y/n was fairly used to her attraction to Harry, but it was as if every little thing he did turned her on.

She'd read about this in a couple articles online and pregnancy books, that some pregnant people sometimes became extremely horny due to the hormonal changes happening in their bodies. When Y/n was pregnant with Simone, she never really...felt that way. Perhaps it was because she was so nervous and overwhelmed by the situation at hand, but now she was feeling it tenfold.

Needing to distract herself, Y/n went upstairs to the nursery to fold laundry. To nest, as Harry liked to tease. They'd been working on the nursery together for weeks in preparation for their second baby, and now it was nearly finished. Y/n and Harry let Simone pick out some of the decorations, like the fuzzy lion rug and Winnie the Pooh themed pillows and pick out toys she thought the baby might like. And now it was pretty much done, all that was needed was for the baby to be born.

Y/n had gone upstairs to distract herself, to keep Harry out of her line of sight so she wouldn't openly drool in front of Simone, but now she was alone with her imagination which was starting to run a little wild. She folded the baby clothes carefully as her mind stubbornly wandered. Harry's hands, his arms, his broad shoulders and sharp jaw. He was all she could think about, and the more she thought about him, the more she wanted him.

Would he want me?

They'd never really hooked up when Y/n was pregnant. Things were different then, more complicated, but Y/n didn't think Harry would be into her when she was significantly more round than usual. She didn't feel sexy or attractive, and she could only imagine Harry felt the same. They kissed and cuddled in bed, but since they found out she was pregnant, they didn't do much more than that. Y/n could only guess it was because she was showing now.

Later that afternoon, Y/n was in bed resting, the baby in her belly moving around a little too much to be comfortable. Simone was napping, and Harry was taking care of some things downstairs. Overall, it was a pretty relaxing day.

Minus the horniness, but Y/n tried to push that down.

She'd been doing a pretty good job of it until Harry burst into the room, sweaty and grimy and without a shirt, the article of clothing in question in his hands and covered in dirt and oil stains.

A flare of heat went straight to Y/n's cheeks as she subtly crossed one leg over the other, her stare zeroing in on her husband's chest. Before she could be caught, she blinked, meeting his gaze.

"What...What happened to you?"

"Your car needed an oil change," Harry said, as if that explained everything. "Might have run into some hiccups along the way, but it should be good to go."

It was enough to shake her from her lust-filled haze. "Why couldn't we just take it into the shop?"

Harry shrugged again as he headed for the bathroom, ditching his clothes as he went. Was he trying to kill me? you thought helplessly, your crossed legs doing nothing to soothe the ache between them.

"I did it. It's fine." Then the sound of the shower filled the bedroom, and steam slowly began to roll past the bathroom door. "The baby still kicking?"

His voice was echoey and faint, and Y/n didn't need much encouragement to imagine her husband all soapy and wet as he rinsed off. He didn't even invite her to join him. If this was what pregnancy did to her sex life, she was never getting pregnant again.

"Y—Yeah. A little."

"I'm sorry, Mama. You know, I read something about babies kicking at this stage. It..."

Y/n wanted to listen, but she just couldn't. She wanted him so bad she could barely think straight. And it frustrated her to no end that Harry probably didn't feel the same. He just breezed right past her when he came into their bedroom, barely even looked up as he shuffled into the bathroom for his shower. Every inch of her body was lined with need for him, and he...he just kept ignoring her.

Harry was still talking as he shuffled out of the bathroom, a towel slung low on his hips. The man standing before her was one big walking, talking tease—rivulets of water running over ridiculously prominent muscles, tattoos that she just wanted to touch, or kiss, or maybe lick, skin slightly pink from the shower, and that towel that seemed to be hanging onto him by a thread. If only she could just—

"Mama? Everything okay?"

Blushing, Y/n tried to pretend it wasn't taking everything in her to not jump him. "Yep. Perfect."

"Are you sure?" he asked skeptically. "You look a little flushed. Should I get you a cold towel—"

Y/n couldn't take it anymore. Unhindered by her baby bump, she sat up and surged forward, planting her hands firmly on Harry's shoulders and kissing him. To her surprise, he didn't recoil and instead rested one hand on her waist and one in her hair, pulling her closer to him.

His skin, still warm and a little damp from his shower, had never felt so delicious against hers. She wanted him to rip her clothes off, she wanted him to use a little force and push her back onto the bed, she wanted him to be rough with her. Tightening her grip, Y/n sunk her teeth into Harry's lip, hoping to get some kind of reaction from him.

"Mama, maybe we should—"

"Fuck, nevermind," she huffed, pushing Harry away from her. Falling back onto the bed, Y/n tried to make herself comfortable. She would've put her back to him and rested on her side, but her belly wouldn't have made that very possible.

"Y/n?"

"Go away."

"Baby, what—what's wrong? I just—"

Y/n, who had been pointedly not looking at Harry, glared harshly at him. "I get it. You find me repulsive now that I'm pregnant, which, can I just say is despicable—"

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked, confusion furrowing his brow.

Suddenly feeling uncomfortable, Y/n wrapped her arms around herself. "You won't—I mean you haven't—Okay, I'm just gonna say it. I'm horny all the fucking time, and you're—you barely even touch me!"

"That's not—" Harry sighed, running a hand over his face. "That's not even remotely true, Mama."

"Don't Mama me," Y/n said, not believing him entirely.

"Let's get one thing clear, Y/n. I don't find you repulsive," Harry said, inching closer to Y/n on the bed. "I—I don't even think that's possible."

"Then why won't you have sex with me?" Y/n asked, and when he began to laugh, she swatted at his arm. "Don't laugh at me! You don't get it!"

Before she could even think to protest, Harry hauled Y/n on his lap. She tried to stubbornly push him off, but he held her steady, on hand tilting her chin to look at him. "I've been worried about the baby."

"Huh?"

"The baby, darling. I didn't want to, like, hurt you or her or anything by, you know...going too hard." Harry's cheeks flushed, but he pressed on. "You really thought it was because I didn't want to be with you."

Y/n's nod was shame-filled at the hurt in his voice. "I can barely get you to wrap your arms around me, and these hormones are driving me absolutely insane, H."

Gently, Harry kissed the top of his wife's cheekbone. Smoothing back some of her hair, he said, "You honestly think I could resist you, Mama? It's been torture."

"Yeah?"

"Baby," he said, leaning Y/n back toward the bed. "You really think you're not an absolute dream right now? You think I don't want my mouth all over these gorgeous tits? You think I don't want my hands all over you? You think I'm not aching for you all the time?"

"I didn't think—"

"If you think for one second that I don't find you irresistible, then I'm a terrible husband." Harry made sure Y/n was comfortable against the pillows before kissing her once, then pushed the t-shirt she wore past her chest. "I'm sorry, Mama. I've just been looking out for the baby, I swear. Let me make it up to you?"

"H—How?"

"We'll be gentle. For now," he added at Y/n's squawk of protest. "I really don't want to do anything wrong, so let me just love on you, okay? Let me show you how fucking breathtaking you are."

Harry kissed a line down Y/n's entire body, and she struggled to keep it together when he made it to her thighs. Her breaths suddenly became unsteady, Harry's chuckle making her squirm when he finally moved her underwear aside.

Before he went any further, though, Y/n called his name, making him pause. "You really think I'm beautiful. Even with the belly?"

Eyes softening, Harry shimmied back up the bed to kiss Y/n on the lips. His mouth was soft against hers, but firm, a promise in them that she accepted happily. Harry's tongue was both familiar and reassuring against hers, warming her up from within.

"Believe me when I say that I've never seen anyone more beautiful than you, Y/n," he murmured. "I'm sorry I made you feel otherwise."

Blushing, Y/n beamed before kissing Harry repeatedly all over his face. "I love you, I love you, I love you," she said. "Now I really need you to fuck me."

Chuckling, Harry pushed his hair out of his face. "Let's start with make love, okay?"

Y/n wanted to pout, but she knew that was perhaps the safest option. It was sensible of Harry to look out for the baby, but now he had some making up to do. So she nodded and settled further into the pillows, kissing her husband once more before letting him worship her.

*.*

Maeve and Julian

"Just like that, Mama. That's perfect!"

Raising an eyebrow at her husband, she asked, "Are you even taking pictures of my face?"

Harry peeked his head from behind the camera. "Well...not right now, but this shot is perfect, I promise. Just a couple more seconds."

Y/n humored Harry just as he asked. He'd been really set on doing an at-home pregnancy photoshoot. Nothing extravagant, just her in a pair of jeans and a bouquet of flowers. Y/n of course said yes, but perhaps she was a tiny bit incentivized by a bubble bath and a back rub from her husband.

She tried to remain still, but then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement. "Simone! Easy!"

Harry looked over to his daughter. Simone played on the lawn where Harry decided the photoshoot would take place, spinning around and around in circles until she fell down in a heap of giggles. The second time she'd done it made Y/n nervous Simone would make herself sick, but Harry put a hand up to keep her where he wanted her.

"Come here, peanut! Let's take a picture with mummy," he called out, beckoning Simone over.

Simone rushed over, face flushed and eyes bright. She looked so much like Harry in that moment—big, squinty eyes, cheeky smile, crinkled nose—that Y/n nearly did a double take.

Setting down the bouquet of flowers, Y/n quickly shrugged on the loose robe she'd worn before Harry insisted on her taking it off. It was light and airy, perfect for the hot flashes she got on occasion, and perfect for what she imagined Harry had in mind until he told her his idea.

"Just trust the vision, Mama, he'd said before offering to untie the strings himself.

Once it was on, she reached for Simone and hoisted her up. Y/n ignored her husband's warning, opting to kiss her daughter's cheek instead. It was so important to Y/n that Simone didn't feel left out or upset about a new sibling when Y/n and Harry found out they were pregnant with Collette.

So far Simone had been positive about having another baby sister in the house, but Y/n was still cautious, still conscious of her oldest daughter's feelings now that she was pregnant again. And baby bump seemed to be growing bigger by the day, and she wanted to hold and cuddle and play with her daughter as much as she could before she couldn't do much more than waddle around.

"I'm sitting on the babies!" Simone giggled, making Y/n laugh too. Harry had stopped his protests, which told Y/n that he was back to snapping his pictures.

"What do you think, little melon? Should we get baby Collette in the picture too?" Y/n asked after Harry had snapped photos from a few different angles.

"Will you at least sit down?" Harry asked, exasperated by Y/n trying to overexert herself.

"You worry too much," she told him, but did as he asked anyway after taking Simone from her bouncer.

Collette nestled against Y/n immediately, her little cheek squished and lips puffed out as she rested on her mother's chest. Simone stood over Y/n and Collette, peering down at her sister's face curiously.

"She's sleepy, Mommy," she said, reaching down to gently hold Collette's hand.

"Yeah, it's almost nap time," Y/n told Simone. Then, to Harry, "How are we doing, Daddy? Collette's going down and I have to pump."

"Go ahead and put her down. Simone and I will play for a little bit, won't we, peanut? Maybe take a couple more pictures?"

"Yeah!"

Simone was always game for anything Harry suggested, as if each word that came from her father's mouth was pure gold. Y/n admired how much she loved her dad, but sometimes they could be a troublesome duo, Simone asking for something and Harry giving in without a thought.

After Harry trotted over to help Y/n to her feet, she shuffled inside, heading up to the nursery to lay Collette down for a nap. She planned to set Collette down in her crib, but something made her head for the rocking chair in the opposite corner of the room instead. Settling herself down with the baby, Y/n began to rock back and forth, humming idly as she waited for Collette's eyes to close.

It didn't take long, but Y/n kept on holding her daughter anyway, content to rock back and forth and rest her legs after the trek up the stairs. She'd never admit it to Harry, but being pregnant with two babies instead of one this time around was taking a toll on her much sooner than her other pregnancies. Her husband was already a mother hen when Y/n was pregnant, she didn't need to add fuel to that well-kept fire.

"Isn't that a sight."

Looking up, Y/n found Harry at the foot of the nursery, looking at where Collette slept soundly against her bare chest. Y/n had undone her robe once more for skin-to-skin contact with the baby, something she liked to do when she was alone. It made her feel more connected to Collette somehow, and she found that Collette fell asleep easier that way. It was a lazy afternoon, there wasn't much Y/n needed to worry about—it honestly felt pretty perfect.

"She sleeps better this way," Y/n said by way of explanation.

"I believe it," Harry replied, a mischievous twinkle in his eye that Y/n pointedly ignored.

"Where's Simone?" Y/n asked, still rocking.

Harry gestured behind him with his camera. "Downstairs watching a show. We agreed on two episodes before bathtime."

Y/n raised an amused brow at their daughter's negotiation tactics, but decided not to comment on it. "I'll come down in a bit. I still need to put her down and pump."

Grinning, Harry said, "You couldn't get out of that chair, could you?"

"It's a comfortable chair," Y/n said with a shrug, not wanting to let her husband know he was spot on.

"Oh, I know," he said. "I've fallen asleep in that thing more times than I care to admit."

Coming into the room, Harry carefully took Collette from Y/n, kissing her head before laying her down in the crib. Once she was settled and Y/n's clothes were righted once more, Harry reached a hand down to her. She let him help her up, even let him tie up her robe again, resigned to his fussing.

"You need to take it easy. The doctor said early labor is common with twins."

"I know, I am," Y/n reassured. "How can I do anything but take it easy when I have my own personal nurse?"

Harry looked at his wife flatly. "Ha. Ha. Now get your cute butt to our room so you can pump and then help me with bathtime."

"Simone's really quite reasonable—"

"She insists that I do it wrong," Harry said, genuinely confused by his daughter's antics.

Kissing his cheek, Y/n checked on the baby monitor once before leaving the nursery. "I'll be as quick as I can, then I'll show you how it's done."

Harry followed her out, heading for the stairs while Y/n went to their room. "Mum of the year!" he said before jogging down to Simone.

Too right, Y/n thought, a smile spreading across her face.

*.*

Geneva

"Mommy?"

"Yeah, babydoll?"

"How does baby sister get in your belly?"

Y/n's eyes widened as she looked down at where Maeve was pressed against her side. They were relaxing by the pool, watching from the shade as Harry tossed the other kids and splashed around in the shallow end. Maeve had joined in on the fun before, but she'd waded out of the pool a few minutes ago for a break from the sun. Her little cheeks were red, long brown hair stringy from the chlorine. Y/n brushed Maeve's hair away from her face as she tried to come up with an answer. Coming up short, she rested her hand on her protruding belly.

"Why are you asking Maevie?"

"Daddy said baby sister is in your belly," Maeve said, poking Y/n's baby bump with a sun-warmed finger. "But how did it get there?"

"You know...that's a great question," Y/n said, raising her hand to shade her eyes as she looked over to where Harry was waist-deep in the pool. His dark hair was plastered to his neck and shoulders in a curly tangle, water droplets glistening on his tan skin.

To this day, Harry was still the most beautiful man she'd ever laid eyes on. Now that they were stuck at home, he took his brief moments of alone time in the form of working out, but only after baking had gained him a few pounds. Y/n never minded, she loved his body any which way it looked.

Eyes dipping down to his waist and below, she definitely couldn't hide how much she appreciated his body now.

"Mommy!"

Shaking herself out of her stupor, she looked down at Maeve, who was clearly determined to get to the bottom of the baby in her mom's belly.

"Right. Sorry babydoll." Y/n hoisted Maeve onto her lap. "Mommy and Daddy...love each other so much. So...when mommies and daddies love each other, they...make a wish on a shooting star...for a baby."

"Really?"

Y/n tried not to laugh at her own ridiculous response as she nodded. "Of course. And then our wish came true, and in a few months, we'll have baby sister."

"Oh." Maeve seemed to think about it for a moment, a small finger on Y/n's belly. "And you wished for me and JuJu too?"

Y/n nodded, holding Maeve's cheeks in her hands. "Absolutely. We wished so hard we got twins!"

Maeve scampered back to the pool a few minutes later, calling out to Harry to help her put on her water wings so she could jump in the pool. Content to watch all the fun from her lounge chair, Y/n stayed back, smiling faintly at all the giggles and squeals of joy as Harry repeatedly tossed one child after another into the pool.

Now alone, she thought about Maeve's question a little more in-depth. As far as she and Harry were concerned, they were done having kids after the twins. Four kids was just the right amount of chaos, and things were finally getting back to normal—or as normal as they could be amid a global lockdown—after the separation.

Not that anyone else in their family seemed to be, but Y/n and Harry were surprised to find out she was pregnant again. At the time. Of course, in hindsight, there was a night when Harry and Y/n couldn't keep off each other. It had been after the first night they'd really spent together as a couple again, and after that, it was as if a dam had broken and Y/n and Harry were reliving their honeymoon phase.

But surprised as they were, they took it in stride. Both of them were nervous about Y/n having a baby in such serious circumstances, but they would take the proper precautions to ensure her and the baby's safety. They were ready for this, ready to do it all again.

"You know Maeve asked me where babies come from today?" Y/n asked later in the evening.

Everyone except for her and Harry were fast asleep, tuckered out from a long day of playing in the sun. Harry had just come back from tucking the twins in and singing them a song like he always did, and now he and Y/n were side by side in their shared bathroom as they got ready for bed.

"Did she? Wait—Can you help me?" Harry asked, gesturing to his red shoulders and back.

Y/n picked up the aloe lotion she kept around just for this reason and squeezed some into her hand and began spreading it over her husband's back. "Not in those words, but she asked how her baby sister ended up in my belly."

"We've never gotten that question, have we?" he mused. "What did you say?"

"That we wished on a shooting star," Y/n shrugged, then explained her short conversation with their daughter about how babies ended up in bellies.

Harry became quiet for a moment. He'd been listening as she rubbed lotion onto his shoulders, but this was different. No one else would've been able to notice his subtle change in demeanor, but Y/n did. She'd known him long enough to read every shift of his posture and line of his body.

"What is it?" she asked, turning him around to face her.

"I just...I just barely stopped short of wishing on stars to have all this again."

Things didn't immediately go back to normal when Harry moved back in. Y/n put on a good front for the sake of the kids, but it was awkward. Neither of them knew how to act around each other, and it took a few weeks for Y/n to trust that Harry was back for good. Even when they had to quarantine, she worried he'd check out, turn to his music for peace of mind. Harry knew all of his wife's reservations, of course, and he didn't blame her for having them. He'd left, that was a choice he made. At the time, he'd done what he thought was best for his family, but he knew now that he only put more distance between himself and his kids, his wife, and he'd regret every minute they spent apart for a long time.

"I love you, H," Y/n said, cupping his cheek in her hand. It was scratchy under her palm, as Harry had taken to being more lax about shaving during lockdown. "I—We would not be...here if I didn't want this, all of this, with you. You know that, don't you?"

He nodded, eyes closing for just a moment. Harry knew he would've been spending his days in a guest bedroom if Y/n wanted that from him. But they worked past their issues, were still working on them, in some ways.

"I know," he promised. "It just hits me sometimes how lucky I am to have you. Not just as a wife and mother, but you, Y/n. I can't—I couldn't handle a single moment without you."

Looking away, Y/n fanned her face, blushing furiously at the tears that welled in her eyes. "You know I get emotional at the drop of a hat, you ass."

Harry merely smiled, letting the somber moment pass. Taking her hands in his, he led her out of the bathroom. "Doesn't make what I said any less true."

Rolling her eyes, Y/n said, "Whatever. Let's go back to talking about how you played mermaids for two whole hours with Simone and Collette."

"I still don't really get it," Harry said, pulling back the fluffy comforter of their bed back. "The girls changed the color of their tails every two minutes. And why does a mermaid need to control fire? Talking to animals I get, but what good is fire underwater?"

Harry looked genuinely perplexed, but Y/n could only laugh. Her husband indulged in almost every one of his daughters' whims, and games where he had to pretend to be a mythical creature was no different. She wouldn't be surprised if packages filled with mermaid paraphernalia arrived in the mail within the next few days so that everyone could really get into character.

She didn't think it often, but right then, Y/n wondered what people would make of the Harry Styles pondering the continuity of his daughters' favorite pool game.

*.*

Natalia

Harry: At the grocery store. Need anything?

Y/n: Your dick, please.

Harry: So...is that in the same aisle as the condoms or...?

Y/n: Don't be mean. I need you.

Harry: That's why I'm going to the store, baby. You asked me to pick up snacks for you this morning for your cravings.

Y/n: I changed my mind. The kids are napping and/or playing in their rooms and/or watching tv.

Y/n: Come fuck me.

Y/n: Please???

Harry: As soon as I get home I'm all yours, baby. I promise.

Y/n sent an image

Y/n: You're really saying no?

Harry: Mama...

Harry: That's from the pregnancy shoot we did.

Y/n: Ass. I'm putting my clothes back on.

Harry: Don't you dare.

Harry: You really want me to abandon the cart? I was just grabbing the pizza bagels you liked.

Y/n is typing...

Y/n: Get the pizza bagels. THEN come home and fuck me.

Harry: Got it. Get ready for me, Mama.

Y/n: !!!

#young dad! harry #young mom! reader #harry styles #young parent!harry styles #young dadrry #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic

369 notes · View notes

yawneneteyam · 1 year

Text

gorgeous (9) — what can I say?

— GORGEOUS, an avatar smau ( by yawneneteyam ) masterlist

— gorgeous, what can I say ?

the presentation went fine, nothing to worry about. y/n didn't throw up, neteyam didn't cry about whales- it was a success to the two of them. truth be told, the two of them kind of zoned out after they presented. they found a lot more amusement in just chatting up the back than listening to what their classmates had to say.

once class ended, their professor shot them a weary glance- knowing that they hadn't listened to a single word another student had to say. they didn't feel guilty, even though they knew they should've; but they enjoyed each others company too much to not hang off of every word the other said.

neteyam hesitated before speaking once they were outside, was he nervous? "did you want to come back to my place?" y/n took note of the way he shuffled his feet, "I'm taking tuk for ice cream when she's come from school if you wanted to come,"

y/n tried to not let her face light up too much, but it was impossible. he had asked her to come home with him? granted, it was to hang out with his little sister- but y/n would do his laundry or his dishes if it meant she got to spend another minute with neteyam.

"I would love to," she nodded, "means I can finally meet tuk!"

"oh," neteyam laughed, "she's been waiting to meet you, she'll be very excited"

"tuk knows who I am?"

"yeah, of course" neteyam nodded, "kiri talks about you all the time and they know we were partners for an assignment,"

y/n nodded, walking towards the parking lot with neteyam. "I'm honoured to be spoken of in the sully house," she joked.

"you really should be," neteyam chuckled, "right up there with the topics of tuk taking dad's credit card to buy robux and how the mato's bought a new barbecue so we should buy a new barbecue..:" neteyam sighed with a smile, "but we can't afford the barbecue because dad's card has been put on hold because tuk has been buy too many robux,"

y/n couldn't help but laugh, "I'm sorry," she shook her head. neteyam laughed too.

"it's okay," he promised, opening her door for her before heading over to the drivers side of the car, "it's fucking hilarious".

"not to your dad though," y/n gave him a knowing look.

"no," neteyam said with wide eyes, "so when you meet him, definitely don't bring it up,"

y/n laughed as neteyam turned the key in the ignition, "noted," she nodded. neteyam held her gaze for a little longer than he should have before putting his hand behind y/n's headrest- reversing out of the parking lot and heading towards his house.

"y/n, can you come back another night?" tuk held onto y/n's hand as they walked outside to say goodbye to her. neytiri stood at the door watching her youngest, making sure she wasn't going to kick up a fuss once y/n had to leave.

"if neteyam wants me to I can," y/n chuckled, looking over at neteyam who was leaning against his car, waiting for y/n with a smile on his face.

"what if I want you to?" tuk stopped in her tracks.

"alright you," neteyam leaned down and picked tuk up, holding her close to his chest, "go back inside and I'll be home soon, yeah?"

"but you have to promise to ask y/n back," tuk was pouting in her brothers arms, "..please?"

neteyam sighed with a smile, "of course,"

"I would've come over anyway," y/n whispered to tuk. the younger girl looked back to y/n with a big grin. they said goodbye to each other before neytiri called out a farewell. neteyam opening y/n's door for her once again.

"thanks," she mumbled with a shy smile. the drive was almost silent if it wasn't for neteyam's soft humming. "what song is that?" y/n asked.

"my mom wrote it," he only let his eyes flicker to her for a second before returning to the road, "there's a little bit for each kid, my part is the best of course," he shrugged.

"oh yeah?" she laughed.

"yes! is is,"

"that's pretty cool though," y/n told him.

neteyam hummed in agreement, "it's very special to our family,"

small patters of rain began to fall on the windscreen of the car. those patters became heavy fall. as neteyam pulled up to the girls dormitories, it was pouring rain in the cool of the night.

y/n grimaced slightly as she thought about having to run across in the rain, no jacket, no anything to keep her warm. neteyam startled her as he reached over into the backseat of his car.

"here," he handed her a hoodie.

"what's this?"

"a hoodie?"

"why?" she laughed.

"because it's pouring rain?" he looked at her as if it was obvious. y/n looked over the soft maroon fabric, the number twenty-four and his last name was embroidered on the back.

"what's this from?" she asked.

"I run track in the summertime," he said nonchalantly with a shrug.

"you do?" y/n scoffed with a smile, "I didn't know that,"

"there is a lot of things you don't know about me," he grabbed the hoodie back from her and held it open for her. "arms up," he told her. neteyam helped y/n find her way into his jumper, pulling the hood over her head. he laughed as it practically engulfed her, he could barely see her face in the abundance of fabric on her head.

"you gonna be okay to get back?" he asked her, "do you want me to walk you there?"

y/n hummed, "opening my doors for me, offering to walk me back to my room? I guess chivalry isn't dead," she joked.

"neytiri raised me better than that," he smiled.

"she definitely did," y/n nodded in agreement. they both sat in his car, not wanting the other to leave. y/n knew she would have to be the one to go first.

"okay well, I guess I'll see you next week in class?" y/n asked softly.

neteyam slowly nodded, "course, but don't forget you told tuk you would come back soon and that girl can hold a grudge,"

they both laughed together as the rain drops fell onto neteyam's car. "I can't break my promise to tuk," y/n smiled, her hand resting on the door-handle, "I'll see you soon, nete"

"bye y/n"

— gorgeous, what can I say ? I'm back! it's been two days since the last one and lots of people have asked where it's been haha, I am very very glad you like it so much- looking at around 5-6 more chapters!! definitely keep sending in modern!neteyam bf headcanons/concepts- they're so much fun to do together <3 I hope you guys liked the new chapter!

#•°. * gorgeous smau #neteyam x reader #neteyam x y/n #neteyam sully #netyam smut #neteyam headcanons #avatar fanfiction #*࿐ neteyam #avatar x reader #avatar #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #avatar 2022

608 notes · View notes

gothgirlmahi · 2 years

Text

all i ever wanted. chapter 1

Pairing: Dark!Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Your daughter’s Spider-Man fixation catches the eye of your classmate Peter. That’s not the only thing that catches his eye.

Warnings: Implied domestic abuse, stalking, post No Way Home angst

Word Count: 1.5K

Masterlist: Coming Soon

Peter immediately noticed you on the first day of class.

It was a few minutes before the start time when you came through the doors of the lecture hall. Carrying your backpack and a plastic shopping bag. You scanned the surprisingly full room quickly before taking the seat next to him and setting your things down on the floor. You looked a bit harried as you began typing furiously on your phone.

He peeked down at the shopping bag, noticing a few red and blue ribbons peeking out along with part of what looked like a pack of birthday invitations. On the corner of the invitations was an unmistakable figure. A little Spider-Man cartoon.

“Are you a fan of Spider-Man?”

Your head shot up at the question, shocked that anyone was talking to you.

“Huh?”

“Sorry, it’s just, I noticed you have some Spider-Man stuff in your bag. I was wondering if you were a fan?”

You gave him a dazzling smile with a little shrug.

“Oh. It’s for my daughter. She’s a big Spider-Man fan and I’ve been planning her birthday party. Had to get tons of Spider-Man themed stuff. This,” you pointed to the bag and Peter couldn’t help but notice the set of rings on your finger, “is just the tip of the iceberg.”

“No kidding. That’s really cool. You’re a good mom.”

You shrugged.

“Thanks. I try to be. She’s a good kid, she deserves it. So if she wants a Spider-Man party in Central Park, that’s what she’s gonna get. I only have until Saturday to finish getting this all together so I’ve been running around a lot.”

It was an innocuous first meeting. You both introduced yourselves. Peter found out you had a husband and a daughter, though you seemed reluctant to mention much of anything about your husband.

Peter had the same class with you again later that week. It was barely ten in the morning and you walked in looking worse for wear. Deep bags under your eyes and a sullen expression. You sat next to Peter and gave him a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Hey, Peter,” you greeted him. Even your voice sounded tired.

“Hey. You feeling okay?”

“I’ve been better. Didn’t sleep too well. What? Am I ugly?” You asked the last part jokingly. Peter shook his head.

“Never. Sorry to hear you didn’t sleep well. I have something for you.”

“Ooh,” you said in a dramatic tone, “illicit dealings in the back of the lecture hall. My favorite.”

“You’re a goofball,” Peter said. You giggled at that. He reached into his bag and handed you a Spider-Man plushie. You almost squealed in excitement.

“Peter!”

“It’s for your daughter. I was hoping she’d like it.”

“You are the sweetest.” You took the plush and squeezed at it happily. “Samantha is going to love this!”

In that moment, Peter noted a few things. He mentally noted that your daughter’s name was Samantha, he noted the bruise around your wrist, and he noted how your entire demeanor changed to a positive one in a matter of seconds once you started speaking to him.

“Did you hurt your arm?” Peter asked, as you were putting the plush toy in your bag.

“What?”

“Your wrist.”

You looked down at your wrist like you hadn’t noticed it. You rubbed at it self consciously.

“Oh, I just banged it on something. I’m super clumsy.”

Peter wasn’t buying that bullshit. And the look on your face told him that you knew he wasn’t buying it. But you looked desperate to drop it and Peter didn’t want to push you away with prying.

He would be seeing you tomorrow anyway. He could check on things then.

The next day was Saturday.

Peter would never consider himself to be a stalker. He was just…inordinately invested in your life for reasons he couldn’t quite comprehend. He wanted to be apart of it and he wanted to rescue you, if even you didn’t know you needed saving. It didn’t take him long to find where you were setting up. He wasn’t in his Spider-Man suit yet, he just needed to locate you first.

You were there stringing up decorations and setting tables, looking a bit frustrated as you worked. An older woman was helping you, sparing a glare for a man sitting on a park bench and drinking a beer a bit away from you all.

“He should be over here helping. She’s his daughter, too,” the older woman commented. She said it out of earshot of the man, but loud enough for you to hear. Peter obviously had no problem hearing it with his abilities.

“Mom, Nate is just tired. He’s been working all week,” you whispered back to her. Your mother rolled her eyes as you set up a stack of napkins.

“Tired my ass. Like you haven’t been working all week?”

“Can we please not do this right now? People are going to be here in half an hour.“

Half an hour. Peter could work with that.

Peter began the walk back to his apartment and gears were turning in his head.

The asshole on the bench was likely your husband. Sitting back and relaxing while you and your mom did all of the work. The same husband who probably put that bruise on you.

The thought had him shaking with rage.

He slipped into his building, roughly pulling closed the janky front door. He went to his room and pulled his suit out, giving it a once over. His sewing skills weren’t so bad. After everything that happened, he was well and truly on his own. He didn’t like thinking about it much. It hurt to consider everything he had lost in such a short period of time.

But he hadn’t done so bad for himself. Two years at community college before transferring to NYU. Working as a photographer just to pay the bills. He’d hopefully get something much better after graduation, which was really just around the corner. A few months and he’d have that degree.

And with any luck, he’d have you as well.

With a look to his watch, he noticed it was quite a bit past the thirty minute mark. That was probably good as it would give you time to be done setting up and give time for people to arrive. He hadn’t seen you daughter there when he saw you, and hopefully she would be there now.

Peter put the suit on and was quickly out the window. Swinging his way back to the park. When he was noticed, onlookers yelled up at him in awe, others in horror. The public’s views on Spider-Man were a little split.

Once you were in sight, he couldn’t help but smile. There was a little girl in your arms and you were smiling as the two of you looked over a table of gifts. Your mother spotted him first. A look of shock spread over her face before she was frantically tapping your shoulder. Just as you turned around, Peter landed about five feet in front of you.

Your daughter screamed at the top of her lungs and the other children at the party lost it. Your face was fixed into an expression of shock, jaw nearly on the floor. Your daughter wiggled out of your arms and ran to Peter.

“Spider-Man!” The little girl nearly tackled him, launching herself at his legs and holding on tight. From what Peter could see, she probably wasn’t any older than four or five.

“Samantha!” You yelled, ready to pull her off of him but Peter picked her up and turned to you.

“I saw the decorations and thought I’d swing by.” Peter made some effort to disguise his voice, but he was giddy with anticipation. A smile came over your face.

“Oh my god, this is—“

“This is insane. Stay still for a picture, Sam.” Peter looked up to see your husband behind you, pulling out his phone to take a picture.

Spider-Man posed for pictures and talked to your daughter. She was thrilled and happily showed off the Spider-Man decor of her party. He stayed just long enough to sing Happy Birthday. All in all, it went well.

The next week, you walked into class with a content smile on your face. When you sat yourself next to Peter, you were excited to tell him about your weekend.

“—He just swung in. It was so fucking cool. Sam was so excited. It’s all she’s been talking about. I mean, what are the odds, right? I’m sure there’s plenty of kids with Spider-Man parties and he just happened to be around for hers. I can’t imagine the day going any better than it did.”

Peter was happy to see a smile on your face. He was hoping he could provide more of that for you in the future.

The professor began speaking, grabbing everyone’s attention.

“In anticipation for the midterm group assignment, I’ll need you all to pair up in teams of two.”

You looked at Peter with a smile on your face.

“Wanna be my partner?” you whispered. Peter nodded.

“It’s a date.”

#peter parker x reader #dark!peter x reader #spiderman x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #marvel x reader

256 notes · View notes

tanoraqui · 8 months

Note

mafia + secret romance russingon?

[Send me 1-3 prompts + 1-2 characters and I’ll write a short thing!]

Shoutout to @dwarrowdelf for the tags suggesting that Fëanorian money laundering would happen not through a restaurant but rather through Grandpa Mahtan’s antiques repair store.

Maedhros didn’t look up when the bell over the door rang. Once upon a time, he’d been a fresh-faced teenager eager with the responsibility to charm and profit from any of his grandfather’s customers. Now, he was just doing Grandpa Mahtan an afternoon’s favor while trying to engrave contract law into his brain, and anyway, Aulendil’s only sold things in an incidental manner, or on commission. If a rare customer wanted help, they’d ask.

He was forced to abandon the intricacies of the Beleriandric Penal Code Book 5, Section IV, Subsection C when a familiar brown hand placed a small bag of watch screws on the law book before him, and the attached person said, somewhat loudly, “Hello! I would like to buy these, please.”

Maedhros nearly slammed the book closed on both their hands. He looked around frantically for anyone who might have heard, any relatives who might be skulking around—but the shop still held nobody but himself and a handful of lopsidedly stocked shelves of antiquated clockwork and the tools and parts for fixing it…and Fingon. Nolofinwion. With whom his branch of the family were all but at war these days.

“You can’t be here!” Maedhros hissed, hopefully quietly enough that Mahtan, in the back working on a clockwork ship for one of his old navy friends, wouldn’t hear.

“I just need to buy some screws,” Fingon said, all sparkling, innocent eyes and plush lips. He’d braided gold into his hair again.

“I’ll show you where you can shove your screws,” Maedhros retorted.

“Oh, please!” Fingon breathed, grinning. “Will it ache afterward?”

“Only if you ask nicely.”

“Only if you prove you’re worth it.”

Maedhros’s hand had found those gold-twined deadlocks; he wasn’t sure how. He tugged. “I’ll show you ‘worth it’, brat. Meet me—”

A cough from behind him, a knock on the doorframe. His grandfather said, “Russo, when I asked you to mind the shop…”

Fingon demonstrated his frankly freakish ability to snap in an instant from ‘about to be ravished’ (or ‘about to ravish’, if he won the inevitable impromptu wrestling match) to ‘nice young man from down the block.’

“It’s my fault, sir!” he chirped. “I’m sorry for distracting him. I just needed to buy some screws for my…”

He cast his gaze around the shop, much less skilled at actually lying.

“For his pocketwatch,” Maedhros said quickly, and tried very hard to telepathically communicate, Please don’t tell Dad. Or Mom. But mostly Dad.

Whether thanks to telepathy, mercy, or general genial grandfatherly ignorance, Mahtan only raised his bushy orange eyebrows a little, and said mildly, “That’s just fine—Fingon, right? I’m afraid I can barely keep my own grandchildren straight some days, much less all their cousins. Did you find what you need?”

Fingon kept up his Nice Young Man face, except that he licked his lips for just a split second as he looked at Maedhros.

“I think so!” he said brightly. “I’ll see you later, Russo, after your shift? To help me out these screws in just right?”

“Yes,” Maedhros choked out, because, god, what else was he supposed to do? His family didn’t need to know, and the damn penal code could wait.

#the silmarillion #ask meme #maedhros #fingon #mahtan

29 notes · View notes

minefield-of-a-ninja · 10 months

Text

Summary: Gabriela Cruz invests in a Victorian mansion in the middle of America where the rule of Buyer Beware is absolute. When her twin sister goes missing, a couple of federal agents show up. Lucky for Gabi, Dean and Sam Winchester are on the case.

Characters: Gabriela Cruz, Camila Cruz, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Ed Zeddmore, Harry Spangler

Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, language, mentions death of family members, cursed object, mentions of blood + gore, sarcasm, twin dynamics, explicit sex

Words: 4,600

Author's notes: thank you, @brrose-apothecary and @stusbunker as always for the pre-reads and support!

CAVEAT EMPTOR

I consider myself a strong, independent woman. I pay my own bills, put a little money away in savings every month, and I just recently took out a loan all by myself to buy an old Victorian mansion cum bed and breakfast in my hometown.

Which brings me to my first point — that most of the time, I think I’m rad as fuck. Then, once in a blue moon (literally, in this case), some guy finds his way into my life, and I personally end up winding back the advancement of women by a century for good dick.

It’s humiliating.

How, you ask? Well, let me tell you...

“When you said Victorian bed and breakfast, I thought it’d be all lace doilies and ornately carved wood. This place is sick!”

Camila, my little sister by 15 minutes, had driven down from Minneapolis to help me move into my new home. We hadn’t seen much of each other in the past year because she was living with a man who considered our twin bond to be “unhealthy” (read: he’s a pissbaby.)

What he couldn’t wrap his tiny brain around was that Cami and I were not only twins, but we’d spent the entirety of our adult lives with only each other to call home. Our older brother was killed by a drunk driver, our mom by breast cancer, and our dad by colon cancer, all before we were old enough to vote.

Anyway, Camila told him he could stay in his glass box of a top-floor condo in the city while she popped down “just for the weekend” to help me unpack. Little did he know, she’d brought with her an obscenely priced bottle of pink Taittinger Comtes de Champagne 1973 from his wine cellar.

“Camila Beatriz!” I cackled as I popped the cork.

She was living with a guy so worried about our “connection” that he never bothered to ask about her predilection to permanently borrow (her phrase, not mine) things from the men she dated.

“He’ll never miss it. Just pour.”

We sipped, kind of unpacked, nibbled on a fruit and cheese platter, and generally basked in each other’s presence. As we squeezed the last drops of pink bubbly from the bottle and the sun dipped below the horizon, I felt a chill. I assumed it was exhaustion, nerves, stress — whatever.

“I’m tired, sissy,” Cami confessed. “Show me to my room, would ya?”

I did, giving her a long squeeze. “Thanks for coming, sissy,” I whispered in her ear. “Sleep sweet.”

I gave her a kiss on the cheek, and she kissed mine before I headed to my room to take a warm shower. Even though the chill never quite left me throughout slathering myself in lotion and wrapping up in my warmest pajamas, it didn’t occur to me that anything was off off.

Then, at midnight, when the third full moon of the season was at its fullest, I was awakened by a blood-curdling sound that seemed to hang in the air for hours after it was released.

“Camila!”

I bolted from the warmth of my bed, flung my heavy door open, and sprinted down the hall to where my sister was supposed to be sleeping. What I found inside that room can never be erased from the darkest corners of my mind.

There was blood everywhere — on the floor, the walls, the ceiling. The room was frigid and vibrating. I felt a presence that turned me inside out, and I started to sweat and heave, regardless of the temperature of the room.

“Cami!” I called out to her, receiving no reply. “Sister!”

I rushed further into the space as whatever it was that I felt began to recede.

“Camila! Where are you?”

I searched and cried, but my sister was nowhere to be found.

The police arrived within minutes, and neighbors hovered on the edge of the property, haphazardly bundled in robes and coats like vultures at the site of carnage. There were hushed whispers of a ghost, a ghoul, or dark spirits.

An ambulance came.

Once the police had questioned me, I was examined by the EMTs and given a sedative. I was told I was in shock. Someone asked if I had any relatives or friends in the area who could stay with me.

I shook my head. “Cami’s my only family.”

The sedative dumbed me down more than anything. I wasn’t able to sleep or relax. Before dawn, two FBI agents appeared on the scene. The local police were reluctant to let them speak with me, but they somehow persevered.

“Ms. Cruz?”

I looked up to find a string bean of a dude with puppy-dog eyes and a tentative, soothing voice. He introduced himself as Agent Gass and his partner as Agent Black. He asked how much time I’d spent in the house.

“Not even a day.”

Both men nodded.

I suppose it should have tipped me off that they were not run-of-the-mill federales since they didn’t seem at all surprised by my answer or the situation the way local law enforcement did.

“You just bought the place, right?” asked the other agent.

Until he spoke, I hadn’t realized how tightly wound I was with fear and grief. The quality of his voice had a visceral effect on my senses, like a deep tissue massage or an epic fucking orgasm.

This man’s voice, you guys...

I blinked rapidly, trying to clear my vision, then found that the face belonging to that voice was so beautiful I could no longer hold the tension in my body, and the tears began to flow.

(I know this sounds very dramatic, but I promise we won’t be spending much more time on the grim details. Also, don’t worry; Cami’s fine. I mean, she’s fucking traumatized, but it wasn’t her blood decorating the walls, is what I’m saying.)

The agents quickly bookended me. Agent Gass tugged a paper towel from the roll I’d left sitting on a side table the night before and handed it to me, muttering something about my nose and tears before Agent Black started talking again.

“There’ve been reports of strange occurrences in this house for decades, but nothing violent.” He was so close that I could feel the rumble of each syllable like the hum of a lullaby or a stealth percussionist in the wild. “Have you witnessed anything out of the ordinary in the last 12 hours?”

I sniffled. “Besides all the fucking terrifying shit I’ve already told the cops?”

Agent Gass cleared his throat beside me. “We’re sorry, but we need to record our own findings. Do you mind telling us what happened?”

I rolled my eyes and blew my nose. “Fine,” I sighed, tossing the wadded-up snot rag into a nearby trash bag.

“It started when the sun set…”

I recapped the evening’s events, groggily noticing once again that neither agent seemed nearly as taken aback as the local police.

“‘Blood-curdling sound’ — like a scream?” Agent Black’s question pinged in my brain while other parts of me continued to react to the sound of it.

“I don’t know why I keep using that phrase... it wasn’t a scream, but... it woke me up, and I immediately knew something was wrong. I was chilled to the bone.”

Agent Black nodded. “You said you were cold before, so you took a shower. Was it the same kinda chill you felt when the sound woke you up?”

I shook my head, squinting to try and remember. “No... I- there’s cold chill and scared chill — I felt both at different times. I... I don’t know how else to describe it.”

Agent Black nodded, peeking over my head to his partner, and they exchanged a silent agreement.

I cannot stress enough how aggravated I am that I felt attraction at that moment. My twin sister was missing, and yet I couldn’t stop staring at his stupid mouth. At the time, I didn’t rationalize it at all, probably because of the drugs the EMTs gave me, but suffice it to say that Dean Winchester is a sorcerer.

He pushed up from beside me, smoothing his tie and buttoning his suit jacket. “Thank you, Ms. Cruz. Try to get some sleep.” He made a subtle gesture to his partner, spurring him into action, then turned to survey the room with a narrowed gaze.

Agent Gass handed me a card. “Please give us a call if you think of anything else. We’ll be in touch.”

Well into the next day, my new home was under constant guard, filled by local law enforcement and various consultants. I didn’t see Agents Gass and Black again until two weird little guys with video equipment showed up.

I walked out onto my side porch from the kitchen, wiping my hands on a dish towel, wondering what kind of new crew was on the case. By the time I made my way outside, Agent Black was there, hovering over the bearded guy with glasses.

“...I will shoot you, and you know I’m not fucking kidding,” he growled.

“Agent?” I asked, amused beyond reason at his violent threat and casually draping my dish towel over my shoulder.

At this point, I’d been able to get some sleep and put a bit of time and space between my cognitive processes and the happenings surrounding Cami’s disappearance. So when that cocky little (there’s nothing little about Dean Winchester, OK, I’m being facetious) shit stretched those long, strong legs and climbed up onto my porch, I was fully aware and accepting of just how incredibly attracted to him I was.

He turned, his posture neutralizing and his eyes softening.

“Ms. Cruz. Yeah, hi...” He strode toward the porch. “Thought I’d stop by, see how you’re doin’.”

“Gabi, Agent.”

He grinned wide as he took the last step to stand in front of me, sliding his hands into his pockets and rocking to his heels and back.

Such a little shit.

“Gabi… right.” He smirked, then glared over his shoulder at the newcomers. “These two botherin’ you?”

I peeked around him and shook my head before pulling back and looking him in the eye. “This’s the first I’ve seen of them. Coffee, Agent?”

He smirked. “Call me Dean.”

In hindsight, inviting him in for coffee was probably my first mistake. I could’ve offered coffee to him and those two boneheads from Wisconsin outside, but, as previously mentioned, I was busy derailing feminism.

“How do you take it, Dean?” I asked, swiping one of the clean coffee mugs from an array of disorganized kitchenware yet to be shelved from the move.

As I took the last two steps to my second-hand Nespresso machine, Dean remained silent, so I glanced over my shoulder before reaching for a coffee pod. He shook his head and blinked up from where he seemed to be mesmerized by something in the neighborhood of my hips.

“Black,” he answered with a lush, lopsided smile.

I nodded, then turned to focus on my task. “What brings you back this way? Is there something new with my case?”

“Uhh, yeah, actually — Agent Gass found some interesting things about the layout of this property on the county assessor’s website. D’you know this was a safe house in the Underground Railroad?”

“Yeah.” I turned and handed the agent his coffee. “That’s one of the reasons I bought it and one of the attractions of the bed and breakfast.”

He thanked me for the cup, eyeing me closely. “So you’re aware of the secret passages in the home? In the room where your sister was sleeping the night she disappeared?”

I shook my head. “What? No. There’s no passageway in my sister’s room, only in the basement and the outbuildings.”

Dean shook his head, holding my gaze. “There’s a full network of passageways in the exterior walls of this house, Gabi,” he continued slowly and pointedly. “Your sister could be trapped. We’d like to take a look at the room again.”

(The next night, over a post-orgasmic cigarette, Dean told me all about another structure he and his brother had cleaned out and sealed off. Someone had erected an apartment building on the execution site of America’s first serial killer. Because Dean Winchester, in addition to being exasperatingly sexy and good with his hands, is a ghost and monster hunter with his brother not-Agent Gass, they come across this kind of thing all the time, I now understand.)

Five minutes after agreeing to let them explore the alleged secret passageways, Agents Black and Gass were sans jackets, rolling up their sleeves, and peering into the mouth of the Rosebud Suite’s small closet.

“So...” I paused, absorbing the confirmation that all the things I feared went bump in the night and more are real. “What do you think you’re gonna find in there? A ghost? Vampires? My twin sister’s disembodied head?”

For the first time since meeting them, the agents looked at me in alarm.

“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Dean said, crossing the room to clasp a big, warm hand around my wrist and squeeze. “You’re twins?”

I nodded.

“Then if that twin stuff everybody talks about is real, you know she’s gonna be fine.” He smiled down at me with kindness. “All we know is that she’s missing, and we know the blood in the room is animal blood.”

Dean was right; I knew in my heart that Gabi would be fine, but as relieved as I should have been, I was suddenly much more disturbed on an entirely different level.

“Animal blood? No one told me this was animal blood. What the fuck is going on?!”

“That’s what we’re here to find out,” Agent Gass appeared at Agent Black’s side, and they exchanged looks before Agent Black continued.

“I dunno why the police didn’t tell you about the animal blood. Maybe they didn’t want to alarm you-”

“Alarm me? I’ve been walking around here worried Camila’s guts were all over one of my guest room walls. I’ve taken sooo much Xanax since Friday night. Is there anything else alarming I should know about?”

They looked at each other again for a beat before Dean shrugged.

“Those two little weirdos outside?”

“Yeah?”

“They picked up readings that indicate the presence of a cursed object as well as confirmation of human life other than those of us in plain sight.”

I sighed, dropping my eyes to where Dean helpfully caressed my wrist.

“I feel like I’m in catechism... what’s a cursed object?”

I didn’t pull away because, like I said, his caress was very helpful.

“Just like it sounds. Somethin’, usually old, that’s been loaded up with black magic. If we can find it, we can cancel out the magic-”

“Black magic?! Who the fuck- wait, old?”

Dean nodded, and sadly, he released my wrist.

“Oh, my god, the wine!”

The agents perked up at that and exchanged more silent looks.

“Gabi... where’s the bottle?”

When I say that I am unreasonably attracted to Dean Winchester, this is what I mean: watching him and the clean-shaven Ghostfacer pepper and ash an empty champagne bottle in a graveyard after telling me said bottle was “cursed” should have made me worry about their and my eternal soul like any other good Catholic girl, but no — I still took him to bed.

Once we found Cami, of course.

“Cayenne pepper. Interesting.”

Dean unwedged the shotgun from propping his trunk of many wonders open before dropping it shut. “Not just for cookin’.”

He shifted and swayed and sighed as he slid his hands into his pockets and fixed his crinkly, sparkling gaze on me with a lick of his smug smirk.

“Sam?” I asked about his gigantic younger brother, who was back at the house with the other Ghostfacer, rescuing my sister. “Does he have Camila?”

Dean’s face lit up, and his eyebrows popped. “Oh, yeah. She’s good. She’s talkin’ to the police.”

I sighed. “I’d like to go home now.”

I must’ve looked like a frightened and exhausted child at that moment because Dean’s entire demeanor softened as he reached out to pull me in for a hug. His clothes and skin felt and smelled warm, and I started to cry into his white button-up.

“It’s a lot to take in, I know, but I gotcha, sweetheart,” he murmured, holding me close. “You’re fine, and so’s Camila.”

This. Man.

This gorgeous, brave, smells-like-you-expect/hope/pray- for-Axe-body-wash-to-smell (but it doesn’t) man, holding me like a fragile doll and calling me sweetheart is the only man I have allowed to witness a sliver of vulnerability since my dad died. So you can imagine the abject horror I felt at the increasing flip-flop from my guts and the heat pulsing even lower.

I’ve experienced attraction, okay? I’ve had romantic and sexual partners, I self-lubricate at appropriate times. I orgasm.

But the way Dean Winchester made me feel was so alarming that I have since added that feeling to the stack of alarming things happening after Camila and I opened that bottle of wine.

He loosened his embrace but didn’t pull away completely, looking down at me with curiosity in his tender gaze. “Let’s go.”

Dean ushered me to the front passenger door, opened it, and helped me inside. We were quiet as Dean drove back to my bed and breakfast. The silence allowed my thoughts to dance until he pulled into the alley behind my house.

“They’re just wrapping up with the cops,” Harry said, sliding forward with his phone in hand.

The lights were on inside. Sam was standing in the middle of the kitchen, behind Cami, with one hand on the back of her chair. She was wrapped in a blanket, nodding her head at the men on the other side of the table, and Ed was in the corner, pocketing his phone.

It was all so clear, and I couldn’t wait to get out of the car and inside to hug my sister.

“Whoa, gotta put the car in park, sweetheart,” Dean chuckled, doing just that.

I guess I really couldn’t wait.

And then I was sprinting to the back door.

Like I said before, Cami is fine. She’s shook, but alive and breathing and not bleeding. I’ve never felt so sick and relieved at the same time or cried so hard. That experience didn’t only bag me the sexiest, warmest, most loving man alive, but it also further strengthened Cami and my priorities for each other.

Dean kicked the cops out, and Sam made coffee for everyone (which Dean spiked). At some point, the little Ghostfacer dudes squirreled away into guest rooms for the night, Sam and Dean lost their ties, and Cami fell asleep draped across my lap where we were huddled in the front parlor.

“Sammy’ll put her to bed,” Dean whispered, gently tugging me to my feet as Sam indeed lifted Camila in a bridal carry. “Which room you want her in?”

“The one adjoining mine, east wing at the end of the hall.”

Sam nodded, and Cami mumbled, burrowing into his massive chest. He turned and swept toward and up the stairs into the quiet darkness.

“Is it really over?” I asked the house itself as much as Dean. Thankfully, only Dean answered.

“Yeah, it’s over.”

I turned to face him, heaving a sigh. He watched me with that same inquisitive expression as the one from the graveyard, this time with his hands in pockets, sock-footed, sleeves neatly cuffed to his elbows, crisp white collar open at his throat — and he looked like he belonged there in the center of my parlor.

“Agent Black-”

“Yeah... about that...” He dropped his eyes for a beat before looking me in the eye with a renewed spark. “We’re not really federal agents.”

You might think that another surprise would send a person careening into catatonia, but not me. No. No, no, I laughed. I started laughing because it was fucking absurd — the whole thing was berserk, right?

Cursed objects? Cayenne pepper as some kind of supernatural DEET? This remarkably handsome man existing? I was being Punk’d, right? Is that show still running? What is Ashton Kutcher doing these days anyway?

The answer to me being Punk’d is no. You might want to Google Ashton Kutcher because I still don’t know what he’s doing these days.

Do I sometimes still stop feeding my chickens to look up at the clear blue sky and pinch myself in case this is all a dream?

The answer to that is yes.

“My name’s Dean Winchester. Sam’s my brother. We've been hunting ghosts and demons and-”

“Demons?!”

The good Catholic girl inside me stammered over that, and Dean nodded slowly, blinking even more slowly as he took a step and reached for me.

“I’ll tell ya everything,” he said with a tired smile and an easy clasp of my hand. “D’you mind if we get a few hours’ sleep first?”

I didn’t mind.

I led him upstairs. We peeked in on Cami, where Sam was watching over her, stretched out on the chaise in that room. They were both fast asleep.

Dean followed me to my room, and I didn’t think twice about stripping myself bare as I made my way to my ensuite. Before I could conjure any pesky stranger-danger excuses, his hands were on me under the hot spray of water.

The next day, Cami dumped her boyfriend. I have a feeling she’d have done it even if the deadbeat had been assed to make the trip south during her 36-hour absence, but his ineptitude made it easy.

Turns out, the brothers Winchester are more than okay with Cami and my connection. Turns out, they’re more than familiar with that kind of connection too.

Dean molds himself to my back, pressing kisses to the side of my neck and the parts of my shoulder that are bared by my tank top.

“Almost done? Sammy’s makin’ breakfast.”

I hum, letting him swallow me up. “Shower first?”

Ever since that very first night, Dean and I have showered together just in case the water’s cursed, and if it isn’t? Conservation. Right?

Plus, we really like giving each other orgasms.

Five minutes later...

“God damn, I love your mouth,” I sigh as water sluices over my shoulders and spirals my arms before filtering into his hair, where he’s burying his face between my thighs.

Dean’s let his hair grow lately, giving me a lot more to grab onto, not that he needs direction. (He has a beard, too, which wouldn’t normally be my thing at all, but because I know what’s under there, I’m good with it.)

He hums and licks and moans and sucks. The pressure’s always just right — never too much or not enough. I’ve never had anyone down there who knew as much about eating pussy as Dean Winchester. He’s good with his hands, his dick, and toys, too, but man, he loves giving head and is a mother fucking pro at it.

“Dean,” I gasp and flail, nearly busting through the shower curtain and toppling over the end of the claw-foot tub to my death.

Dean lunges up and hooks an arm around my hips, gathering me closer, and I explode.

“Mmm, such a good girl, Gabriela.” He licks his lips as he drags me into the tub with him. Water beats down on his back as he notches his hips in the place his face just vacated.

I toss one calf over the back of the tub and watch Dean grip his hard dick to slip and slide along my slit.

“Don’t tease me, Dean. Get inside.” I thrust my hips and reach for him.

He cocks a brow, lifting my other knee to drape over the other side of the tub, punching the curtain, and slopping water onto the floor. “Honey, I ain’t teasin’; I’m goin’ easy on ya.”

“Pfft!” Now I’m panting like a dog with my ass suspended three inches above the base of the tub. “Who asked you to take it easy on me? I sure didn’t.”

Dean smirks, wrapping one big hand around one hip and steadily guiding himself inside.

“Fuck.” I drop my head to the porcelain under me and clamp my hands around the edges of the vintage bath to take what he gives.

Every time.

Every time, he feels so perfectly hardhotsmooth, so thick, so heavy.

And I can’t not stare because he is perfectly beautiful.

“You’re so beautiful, Gabi,” he whispers as he slides his other hand around my other hip and grinds into me.

“Uhhh!”

We both groan, and my back arches all by itself.

He tells me I’m beautiful, and sometimes it feels like a lie — not because I think he’s dishonest but because Dean Winchester is the most beautiful man I’ve ever known.

He drags out slow, and thrusts back in hard and hot, swearing before biting his lip.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” he mutters, tossing his head back into the fall of water before looking back down at me as he blinks water out of his eyes. Then he smiles wide and bright, almost like he’s laughing. “Hold on tight.”

I never take Dean’s warnings lightly.

He sets a hard rhythm, grunting with each thrust, and I echo.

“You look so good, baby — fuck me so good.”

Dean’s a tough guy and everything, but he loves praise. I give him pet names and tell him how smart and strong he is. I am always sure to thank him for every little thing he does to help me. And he goes fucking crazy when I praise him for fucking me right.

“Give it to me,” I breathe, clenching around him. “I love your dick... so hard and thick — please, Dean.”

I can’t pretend with him, either. No praise I ever give him is lip service. I really do love his dick.

He pitches forward, bracing his hands on the edge above my head, stretched over me like a telephone wire, and that fucking shift-

“Hooofuck, I- ahh!”

Dean arches and grinds up against my g-spot, pinning me in place until I burst.

“Yesyesyes!” Dean beats a hand against the side of the tub in time with my pulses and throbs around him. “Fuck, honey, yes.”

And then five minutes after that...

“All I’m saying is, if you want some alone time,” Sam actually uses air quotes. “Just say so, and we won’t wait. At the kitchen table. Directly beneath your bathroom.”

Dean rolls his eyes, and Cami and I stifle corresponding giggles.

“It’s not like I personally came down here and burned the toast,” Dean pretends to make sense as he folds a piece of bacon into his mouth. “Bacon’s good.”

He looks to me for agreement, and I nod.

“It is good bacon!” Then I look at Sam. “We’ll be quieter next time.”

Cami guffaws. “No, you won’t!”

I playfully backhand her and shrug. “Probably not, but the bacon’s still good, and I love you guys.”

Sam snorts and shakes his head. “Yeah, OK, I love you, too, Gab.”

“Hey, don’t be gettin’ my girl mixed up with yours.” Dean mumbles around a mouth full of food as he stabs into his pile of fried potatoes.

I peek over at Camila and catch her looking at me. A memory flashes in my mind of pink bubbly and shivering myself to sleep and that awful fear that my sister was gone forever. Then, Camila blinks, and I’m filled with the warmth of knowing she would return to me and that we would both live happily ever after with the perfectly imperfect Winchester brothers from Lawrence, Kansas.

MJ's Master List

MJ's SPN Master List

MJ's Dean Winchester Master List

What did you think?

#dean winchester smut

44 notes · View notes

rey-writez · 9 days

Text

ok so this story is can be found on wattpad rather than ao3 just cause i find the format of ao3 to be confusing ANYWAY who's up for some lost boys fanfiction?

CHERRY RED

My whole family hated that we were moving. At least my brothers did. Honestly, I was just excited though. I mean being stuck in the same small town all my 16 years of living really makes a person want to get out sometimes. Or maybe its just my innate wanderlust. What can I say? It’s tough.

“Yeah Claud, keep sulking out the window, it’ll help,” Michael quipped.

“Oh my god, I was not ‘sulking’ you dipwad.”

“Claudia, don’t call your brother a dipwad.” my mom sighed,

An hour later, we arrived at our new home. It was small and cute. Me and my brothers rushed to claim our rooms. I found one at the end of a winding hallway. It had a large bay window with a clear view of the sea. Perfect. Just then I heard a rush of footsteps and Sam busted in.

“Do you mind?” I scoffed.

“Boo, I wanted this room.” he rolled his eyes and I crossed my arms.

“Snooze you loose.”

“Oh well. Hey, me and Michael were going to the boardwalk tonight, you know, get to know the city more. Wanna tag along?” Sam questioned. I bit my lip and thought about it. I mean would I rather stay in to unpack more or go out… Yeah, I’m going out.

“Alright, I’m in. Now get out doofus!” and I hit him with a pillow playfully. Now time to unpack. I grabbed all the boxes inscribed with Claudia. There were 2. So I started with the first one. It was a bit heavier than the other one but I managed it. Soon enough I had a well decorated room and a nice squashy bed.

“Come on Claud, we’re leaving!”

“Mike I’ll be ready in a second” I shouted in return. Scrambling to my newly organized closet, I chose my outfit. I wore a white tank, denim shorts, and a long yellow cardigan. I slipped on my favorite pair of Converse and left for the boardwalk.

The boardwalk was more crowded than ever. I almost felt dizzy with the amount of input I was getting at once. But I kept going and kept exploring. I was all on my own looking around, Mike was off chasing some girl and Sam was in a comics shop, so I ended up wandering around. The boardwalk seemed to glow in the pale moonlight. I loved it. My aimless stroll was halted when I stumbled across a stand selling churros and other boardwalk food. I decide to buy a churro and a coke. The kid selling them almost looked dead inside. I walked over to a bench and began eating. Just then, a blonde curly-haired boy sat on the bench. He was the guy standing behind me when I was in line for my food. The guy who I could tell was kind of into me, and honestly, I was kind of into him too.

“Hey,” I said, breathy. “I like your jacket.” God, I bet he noticed how flustered I was. But then I noticed he was almost a little flustered too. Aww.

“Thanks, cutie.” His smile was goofy, yet comforting. “I’ve never seen you around here before, are you knew here?”

“Yeah. I just moved.”

“Nice, nice. So do you like it here? In Santa Carla?”

“Yeah, I love the beach. And I love traveling.” He nodded and seemed like he was a bit fidgety.

We ended up sitting there, just chatting. He was kind. He was funny. God, I was falling hard.

Then, I glanced around, looking for Michael. It was getting a bit late and I was thinking about heading home.

“Ugh— where is he?” I couldn’t find him anywhere so I guess he just wandered off. I was thinking about asking him to drive around town, cause boardwalks were never my favorite.

“Where is who?” He asked.

“Oh, my brother.”

“You have a brother?”

“Is that surprising?” I smirked at him and raised my eyebrows.

“No, I mean…” he trailed off and looked a bit flustered. “Why are you looking for him?”

“Was gonna see if he would drive me around town.”

“Why so?” He asked.

“You ask a lot of questions!” I sarcastically joked with a smirk on my face. “See boardwalks were never really my style.”

He nodded and sat in silence for a short minute.

“I could drive you around.” My face stayed normal, but inside I was ecstatic. This cute guy on the boardwalk just asked me if he could hang out with me.

“Okay, sure!” I tried not to sound too excited. This was the first time I had found real love since… Well whatever.

“Alright, come with me.” He stood up and shrugged away from the bench. I stood up and threw my trash away and followed him.

“Y’know, I never caught your name.” He said.

“It’s Claudia.” I said, smiling at him.

“Claudia. Claudia’s a nice name.” He muttered, looking up at the stars. “My name’s Marko.” I nodded.

“Well, nice to meet you Marko.” I chuckled and keep walking along side him. It was nice.

Marko lead me over to a crowded parking lot. I’m the middle, there were a couple of motorcycles. I assume the more colorful one was his.

Just then a curly-haired dark boy caught my eye. Michael? I wanted to yell. He was flirting with a girl. The same girl he was chasing at the beginning of the night. At least I notice my goddamn sibling. I thought.

There were 3 other boys there too. A brunette boy, a long haired sleazy one, and finally one who definitely looked like a leader. He had a short blonde mullet and a light stubble. Well. Let’s see were this might takes us.

“Mind if we go to my buddies hangout? Don’t worry, they’re chill. " Marko said warmly. The blonde shot me a big toothy grin.

“See, that’s Paul. And you see him? The other blonde? That’s David. And finally we got Dwayne. They’re basically my brothers. " he grinned. “You ready, Claudia? " I nodded.

The ride was mostly a blur. Marko turning around to give me big Chessy Cat grin while I return it and wrap my arms around him in order to hold on.

Finally, we were at his friends place.

LOOKING FOR MORE CHERRY RED?

MORE COMING SOON!

#the lost boys #tlb 1987 #the lost boys 1987 #tlb david #tlb paul #david tlb #marko tlb #paul tlb #dwayne tlb #the lost boys x reader #marko x reader #wattpad #michael emerson #Emerson sibs

8 notes · View notes

jmrothwell · 5 months

Note

"hold my hand" "absolutely not" "they'll think somethings wrong if you don't" *grabs hand and kisses cheek* / sweet tarts

“Do you need a job?”

Reggie startled ever so slightly, trying his best to hide it by sitting up from the lounging position he was in while reading his book. Once up he found an aggravated Carrie standing in the doorway of the studio.

“Are you talking to me?” He asked, looking around knowing full well he was the only one here. Everyone else had gotten pulled into various family holiday events. Even Luke and his mom had managed to reach a sort of compromise for the season.

“Is there anyone else here?” She said again before releasing a long exhale disguised as a groan, “Anyway, did you need a job or not?”

“A job” He couldn’t help repeating the question, one of his eyebrows rising against his better judgment.

“Ok, so it’s barely a job.” She said weight shifting as she adjusted her feet with her eye roll. Her gaze shifted away from him, examining the room around them, eyes lingering on the many photos Flynn and Julie had plastered across the wall. “I really just need someone to come with me when I go to my mom’s for Christmas.”

“I’m sorry what?” He really didn’t mean to blurt out the question as fast as he did. Still blinking away the shock of the words he was hearing. Couldn’t recall her ever mentioning her mom before, or anyone for that matter. Though if he had to judge based on the way Carrie’s face scrunched up and how she shifted her feet again she wasn’t very comfortable with the topic.

“My mom’s been trying to reconnect and make up for lost time.” She said, voice bordering on her peppy show tone.

“I don’t know.”

“It would be just for a week and she lives incredibly close to some decent skiing. So you could think of it more like a little winter vacation if you’d like.” Carrie said, her voice never straying far from that peppy ‘sales pitch’ tone which did not ease any unease he had at the idea.

“What’s the catch?”

“There’s no catch.” She quickly said, disbelief written all over her face in the short seconds before managing to school her expression again. “Look, me and my family are even paying for everything. All you have to do is show up.”

He chewed over the idea, also chewing the inside of his bottom lip not really buying this perfect vacation she was trying to sell him on. There definitely had to be something she wasn’t telling him. Why him? Why not any of her other friends?

On the other hand, it would be nice to have something to keep him out of his parents house that wouldn’t also have all his friends playing their usual ‘let’s help Reggie without him knowing it’ tactics. It might take them all a while to believe Carrie had randomly offered him what basically amounted to an all expenses paid ski trip out of nowhere. But weirder things had happened.

“All right, when’s this trip?” He asked, trying not to be floored by Carrie’s unexpectedly bright, if short lived, smile.

“We leave tomorrow.” She said digging her phone out of her purse and settling on the couch so close to him she‘d barely need to move to be in his lap. “Quick, give me your number so I can send you the details.”

“Oh yeah, sure.” He said fumbling for his phone, caught a little off guard by both her sudden proximity and the amount of shit he suddenly had to do before tomorrow.

He barely registered everything she said about texting her his address to coordinate with her driver. Far too focused on mentally making his packing list, hoping he had enough clean clothes. Didn’t even question her when she suddenly pulled him in for a series of selfies, the first half dozen inadequate because he didn’t look happy enough. He doubted he ever looked happy enough, certain she just gave up, and resorted to using whatever filter for whatever app she was sure to be posting it to.

The next day didn’t fare much better for his nerves. Pleasantly surprised when she did in fact show up at his place several hours before the sun would even dare to be up so they could get to the airport on time. Too tired to enjoy the fact he got to sit in the slightly roomier business class, falling asleep before the even finished taking off. It was a rare direct flight too, so he wouldn’t get another chance until the flight home.

Just as they passed security and into the throng of all the friends and family waiting, Carrie’s hand gripped his bicep tight pulling his attention to her as they walked.

“Ok so, before we get too far there is something you need to know.” She said in a sort of half whisper, trying to not be overheard but still trying to be heard over the noise all around them. “I may have lied about there not being a catch.”

His heart clenched, he knew it was too good to be true, but more than that he felt more than a little betrayed. Did she seriously wait til he couldn’t escape to tell him what basically amounted to his side of the deal? He didn’t get the chance to call her out though, as soon a woman Reggie could describe as overly sparkly was rushing toward them with a big smile.

“Carrie?” The woman said, throwing her arms around Carrie who had never looked so tense before.

“Aunt Debbie.” Carrie said through a forced grin, “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“What nonsense.” Aunt Debbie said as she playfully slapped Carrie’s shoulder. “Of course we were going to pick you up, Richard’s keeping the car warm. Your mom would have come but she’s a little preoccupied.”

Aunt Debbie tried to do a little hand wave through the air, her vibrant nails looking more like talons than Reggie expected them to, clearly trying to dismiss or wave something away. The movement only seemed to make Carrie tense up more than she already was. Reggie didn’t get long to focus on that though as Aunt Debbie’s attention fell on him.

“Oh sorry, you must be..?”

“Oh, right, sorry. Aunt Debbie, this is Reggie.” Carrie said as Reggie extended his hand out to shake Debbie’s, all of the syllables he was going to use to greet her with however froze up in his throat as Carrie continued on. “My boyfriend I was telling you all about.”

“Ooooh well aren’t you handsome.” Debbie said, patting his, the sensation all he needed to know he wasn’t dreaming. “Well, we better hurry up before Rich gets too bored and does something foolish. Did you check anything?”

Debbie walked off after Carrie’s reassurances they only had carry-on’s. Reggie did not follow, forcing Carrie to double back for him, if she felt any guilt over the situation she had it hidden well under all the resigned exhaustion she wore.

“Your boyfriend?”

“It’s only for the week.”

“Carrie we’ve barely ever spoken to each other.” He said in lieu of saying how they could barely be called friends.

“Please,” she said, surprising them both, though she recovered faster than he did. “Like I said it’s only for the week. We don’t even have to get all lovey-dovey with the pet names or overt PDA.”

“But why do they need to think I”m your boyfriend?”

Carrie quickly looked over her shoulder to where Aunt Debbie was impatiently looking like she was waiting patiently. “I promise I’ll tell you later.”

He sighed, slowly resigning himself to the idea. His only other real options being telling everyone the truth and spending the next week uncomfortably awkward around strangers or trying to find some way to pay for a flight back home and leaving Carrie alone, by herself. “You owe me.”

She nodded as she painted on that winning showmanship smile of hers, “Of course, now hold my hand.”

“Absolutely not.” The words were out of his mouth faster than he intended, still too caught up in his own blindsided irritation. Her smile barely faltered, the slightest furrow of her brow.

“They’ll think somethings wrong if you don’t.”

He glanced toward Debbie who had definitely stopped trying to not look confused. He didn’t exactly trust his mouth at the moment, so he merely held out his hand towards Carrie. She grasped it in hers and pulled him down so she could quickly press a quick kiss to his cheek and whispering a quick “thank you” into his ear.

He swallowed hard, an attempt to both unclog his throat of all the wrong words and to clear his head of the memory of her lips ghosting across the shell of his ear. This was going to be a more complicated week than if he had just stayed home.

#jatp sweet tarts #reggie x carrie #I was like these will probably all be short fills...nearly 1500 words later #took a few story beats from Summer Wars but turned it into some sort of holiday rom com

13 notes · View notes

pintsizemama · 1 year

Text

The Wedding Reception

The Marcus & Peanut ‘Verse

Summary: Marcus and Peanut attend John’s wedding and discuss their own future.

Pairings: Marcus Pike x Female Reader, Marcus Pike x You

Fandom: The Mentalist

Rating: Mature 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 1,078

Warnings: fluff, some tension from unconventional relationships, allusion to sexy times...let me know if I missed anything, and I’ll happily add it here!

@writer-wednesday

Marcus & Peanut Masterlist Masterlist AO3 Join my taglist

You sat quietly at the table staring at your big brother in amazement. You never thought in a million years you’d be sitting at your brother’s wedding, but here you were. You smiled as you watched him dance with his new bride. John had always been a player, but ever since he met Alana, he was a changed man. You fiddled with the fall floral centerpiece while you got lost in your thoughts.

“There’s my gorgeous girls,” a warm, familiar voice said from behind you. You turned in your seat to see your gorgeous boyfriend, Marcus, approaching the table. “She’s out like a light, huh?” He nodded towards your daughter, Sarah, who was sound asleep in your arms.

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “I guess flower girl duties wiped her out.” You looked down at your little angel. She had her father’s dark hair and eyes, but her face was an exact replica of yours. Marcus sat down next to you and gently brushed a wayward curl off Sarah’s forehead.

“I’m surprised she’s sleeping through all this noise,” Marcus mused.

“Are you really, though?” You asked with a quiet laugh. “This child sleeps like a zombie.”

“True,” Marcus laughed. Sarah was almost a year and a half old. You smiled to yourself when you thought about how the last three years had gone. You had finished up with grad school before Sarah was born—thank god. You had been lucky enough to to find a job right away, and they were more than happy to allow you to work remotely so you could be home with the baby. Being a new mom and juggling a new career simultaneously had been stressful, but Marcus was there with you every step of the way. He was the best dad. Sarah was his whole world, and he loved her with an intensity you never imagined existed.

Things between you and Marcus were amazing. He was still just as doting and passionate as he was that first night in the hotel in Denver, almost three years ago. You glanced over at your parents. They were thrilled that John was finally settling down. He had met Alana about six months after your first Christmas with Marcus.

Marcus had told you about his encounter with Alana on Christmas Eve once John mentioned who he was dating. You both shared a laugh, and Marcus was genuinely happy the kind woman who helped him buy your favorite present had finally found a good man.

The only cloud on this joyous day was your parents’ lack of understanding on your own marital status. Despite being together three years, being madly in love, and sharing a daughter, you and Marcus were still not married. Not even engaged. Your families were completely baffled. Your brother—the serial heartbreaker—was now married to a woman that he had known less time than you and Marcus had been dating…and you and Marcus have known each other your whole lives. So…why no ring?

It was a simple answer. Neither of you felt the need to rush it. You both were enjoying your life, and the ring would come in time. You had wanted to finish school and work for a few years before getting married anyway. The unexpected arrival of your daughter had thrown a bit of a wrench in your plans, but neither of you wanted to get married before you were ready just because you had a baby. Marcus was fully on board. You did ask him about it just before Sarah was born though. Marcus was well known as a man who loved to commit…so why no official commitment with you?

He had smiled your favorite smile—the one that made his eyes crinkle on the sides—and tucked your hair behind your ear.

“The reason I was in such a hurry to make a commitment in the past,” he had explained, “was because I was always afraid of losing them. I never felt that they were truly mine. Never felt they wanted the relationship as much as I did, so I—stupidly—thought making a more profound commitment would ensure they stayed. I know better now. It didn’t work out with all my other relationships because I was never theirs. I was always yours. We were made for each other, Peanut. I never have to worry about you not being mine. You were always mine. It just took me too damn long to realize it. I’m in no rush to solidify this relationship in the eyes of the rest of the world. You’re the other half of my soul. I can wait as long as you need me to. We have forever. What’s a few more years?” That revelation had resulted in many tears (of love and admiration) and one of the hottest nights of sex of your life.

You were grateful that Marcus was giving you the time you needed. But it had been long enough. You had accomplished everything you wanted to before settling down…and you really wanted to be Mrs. Pike.

You looked back at your gorgeous boyfriend. He was smiling warmly at you.

“How about you let Grandma hold Sleepy Beauty for a bit so I can dance with the most gorgeous woman in the room?” He asked.

“Marcus,” you scolded gently, “you can’t say something like that at someone else’s wedding. The bride is the most gorgeous woman on her wedding day.”

“Alright, if you say so, Peanut,” Marcus said with a wink. You laughed and stood up to bring Sarah over to your mom. She gladly took her only grandchild from your arms so you could step into Marcus’s. He held you close as you swayed to the music.

“This is a beautiful wedding,” you remarked, looking around the room.

“Yes,” Marcus agreed. “And Alana does make a beautiful bride…but I know you’ll be an even more beautiful bride one day, sweetheart.”

“Soon,” you answered. Marcus froze.

“Soon?” He parroted. You nodded. “Are you telling me you’re ready for the next step, baby?”

“I’m telling you that, the ball is in your court, Agent Pike,” you answered mysteriously. “Do with it what you will.” You grinned at him devilishly.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he smiled, “I’ve had years to think about this. Get ready. You think I’m romantic? You haven’t seen nothing yet.”

“Do your worst,” you said with a grin.

“I intend to, Peanut,” he replied. “I intend to.”

Join my taglist

If you enjoy my blog and would like to support it, you can always buy me a coffee. Not necessary, but always appreciated.

Taglist:

@wildmoonflower @kirsteng42 @maydayfigment @lowlights @xocalliexo @stevie75 @strangercoven @sleep-tight1 @juletheghoul @athalien @javierpinme @falulagellerr @just-here-for-the-moment @maxwell--lord @gothicxbarbie @supernaturalgirl89 @paintballkid711 @dihra-vesa @mswarriorbabe80 @peach-child @hnt-escape @safe-teycar @greeneyedblondie44 @peoniarose @vinny-likes-to-play21 @ikinmahlen @mishasminion360 @agent-jbarnes @colorlesswhispersunknown @hayley-the-comet @ajeff855 @hypnoash @withakindheartx @jediknight122 @jasterslegacy @lolliepopsicle @brieflyannoyingandfunny @my-patronus-is-a-raptor @allthe-ships @3rddlifee @maievdenoir @pascals-cat @petersunderoos96 @spotty-boo90 @sirwaddlefuck @thirddeadlysin @ezras-channel-rat @tanzthompson @ninman82

#writer wednesday #marcus pike #marcus pike x female reader #marcus pike x you #marcus pike x reader #marcus and peanut #the mentalist fic #pedro pascal #marcus pike fanfiction #marcus pike fanfic #marcus pike fic

58 notes · View notes

misscorn · 9 months

Text

Day 6 Takaritsu Day/Confession

unfortunately I do think this will be my last entry for @takaritsuweek I simply don’t have the time, energy, or an idea for a day 7 oneshot LOL but all of these will eventually be added to my ‘weeks and weeks’ fic on ff.net under my account Sixty Teacups sooooo yeah :) I really like this one its silly LOL thanks @sekaiichis for inspo/help on certain details hehe

“Do you have an AIM account?” Saga Masamune asked as he and Ritsu sat side by side in the school’s library.

Ritsu blinked at the question, “I-yes.” He lied.

Why, why, why, WHY did I just lie about that?! Ritsu questioned, refraining from pulling at his own hair. He didn’t want to admit to Saga that his mother didn’t approve of those instant messaging chat rooms, finding it far too embarrassing. She thought that they were distracting at best and dangerous at worst. Ritsu didn’t really understand her concern with danger, because he certainly wouldn’t be chatting with strangers. At most, he’d probably chat with Anchan and that was it. At least, it had been until now - what with Saga suddenly expressing interest and all.

“What’s your screen name?” Saga asked.

No, oh no, crap, crap, crap, Ritsu’s eyes started to dart around wildly, looking out the library windows and seeing all the flowering, pink trees. “Ch-Cherry blossom…” He then looked at the numerous shelves. “...books. Cherryblossombooks. Is my screen name.” Ritsu said, refraining from immediately burying his face in his hands in humiliation. What is wrong with me?

“Okay. I’ll message you later.” Saga said. “My screen name’s-”

“I-I actually just remembered I have to leave early today!” Ritsu said, standing. “So sorry, I-I’ll talk to you later, Senpai.” Ritsu rushed off before Saga even had the chance to say goodbye.

Ritsu was out of breath by the time he got home, but pushed through it to run upstairs to his Dad’s office where the family computer was located. He was sure that his Dad was still at work, but he knocked anyway. When not getting a response, he quickly slipped inside and shut the door behind him, sitting in the office chair and hurrying to set up an AIM account.

He weighed the pros and cons of getting in trouble versus Saga finding out he was lying as he went through the whole process. Ultimately, he decided that getting scolded by his mother was less mortifying than Saga going to try to message him on AIM only to find he didn’t exist. By some miracle, Ritsu found that the screen name wasn’t already taken and he was able to quickly sign up, his racing heart finally starting to calm down.

“Ritsu? I thought I heard you come home…” The door to the office slowly opened once more, Ritsu’s mother standing in the doorway to peek inside.

Ritsu squeaked and switched tabs, pretending to be doing some kind of research for a school project. “Y-Yeah, Mom! Sorry, I just came in here to do some homework while Dad’s still at work…” He said, hoping that his mother would buy it.

“Okay…next time at least say hello to your mother.” She huffed with displeasure.

“Sorry.” Ritsu apologized again. “I-I just wanted to get a head start before Dad came home - in case he needs the computer later.”

"Well…alright. What's this project?" She asked curiously, coming over to peek at the screen, making Ritsu nearly fall out of the chair in a panic.

"Ah, it's an open-ended history research project…I haven't totally decided what to do yet." Ritsu said.

"I see. I'll leave you to work hard then." She smiled, patting Ritsu's head, having no reason to believe that her obedient son was hiding something from her.

Ritsu slumped with relief once she left the room. He pulled up some random information on different historical events that he would be able to switch the tabs to in the event that one of his parents entered the office again. He then opened the instant messaging program once more, anxiously waiting to see if anything would come through. A part of him almost hoped Saga wouldn’t message him because Ritsu simply wouldn’t know how to handle that. But, his heart also wouldn’t know how to handle not receiving a message. So it was a bit of a lose-lose situation.

While Ritsu fretted over whether or not he even wanted to receive a message from Senpai, a little box popped up saying ‘NostalgicCentury25 has sent you an IM. Do you want to read it?’. Ritsu thought he recognized the username as an Usami Akihiko reference and could only assume that it was a message from Saga.

After some deliberation and hesitation, Ritsu hit the ‘Yes’ option. It was a very simple message, saying: hey, this is Saga. Despite it being under five words, Ritsu still had to cover his red face with his hands. Ritsu had already been so weird about - well, everything - so he needed to be normal about this! He needed to respond like a normal person in a normal amount of time.

Ritsu took a deep breath, very carefully crafting his response in his head before he even dared to start typing. He also decided to wait at least five minutes before he sent a message back. Ten minutes would be better, but he doubted he could hold out for that long. He was staring at the little clock in the corner of the screen when he jumped at receiving another message.

Add me to your friends list.

Ritsu couldn’t explain why such a request made his heart pound. It took a bit of clicking around, but he was able to add Saga to something called his ‘Buddy List’. He then became determined to send his response.

Ritsu took a deep breath and finally brought his hands to the keyboard.

Saga waited impatiently for Ritsu to respond to him, staring at the computer screen with a soft huff. He was already very annoyed that Ritsu suddenly went home early without a satisfying explanation and now he was even more annoyed that Ritsu hadn’t messaged back right away. Having another form of contact was great, but not getting an immediate response and not being able to see Ritsu’s expressive face were definite drawbacks.

Saga started to wonder just what it was that Ritsu had to rush off to do. All he said was that he had to ‘leave early’. Could it have been a club meeting? Or maybe some kind of family engagement? Could Ritsu have been meeting up with a friend today? Maybe another guy?

Before Saga could brood too much over the mere thought of Ritsu giving someone else even the smallest sliver of attention, he received a message.

Hi, Senpai! I’m sorry for rushing off so suddenly earlier. Is your screen name a reference to Usami-sensei’s book 25th Century Nostalgia?

Saga sat up a little straighter, feeling a small smile tug at his lips as his heart strangely began to warm at Ritsu picking up on the novel reference. Of course he got it, I don’t why I expected anything else, he thought, affection for the underclassman welling up inside him. However, Saga only responded with: Yeah, it is. Have you read it? The question seemed pointless, but Saga was just trying to prompt Ritsu into talking about it more.

It worked like a charm as Cherryblossombooks is typing… popped up and Saga was soon graced with a paragraph of text both praising and analyzing the novel. Saga covered his mouth with a hand, trying to hide his smile that was widening.

God, he’s so cute, Saga thought. Before he could begin to formulate a response, Sorata decided he wasn’t getting nearly enough attention and jumped up onto the desk, walking all over the keyboard and accidentally sending an incomprehensible keysmash.

“Hey, get down.” Saga scolded, gently trying to shoo away the cat, but Sorata was both stubborn and displeased at that. The cat did his best to resist, but Saga ultimately picked him up and set him back down on the ground.

Is that some kind of acronym? Ritsu had sent in confusion.

Saga let out a small snort of amusement before typing, that was my cat walking all over the keyboard.

Oh, that makes a lot more sense! Haha!

Are you free tomorrow after school? Saga asked.

Yes! I shouldn’t have to rush off like I did today :)

The use of the emoticon made Saga imagine Ritsu’s cheery expression and his bright eyes, making Saga’s eagerness to see him increase.

Do you want to come over to my place tomorrow?

Cherryblossombooks is typing… appeared and disappeared several times. Saga could vividly imagine Ritsu’s panicked and nervous flailing at such a proposition. Idly, Saga wondered if Ritsu would ever get used to receiving such an invitation. Saga supposed the only solution was to keep inviting Ritsu over until he got used to it. Saga was of course willing to make such a sacrifice. For Ritsu’s future comfort. Of course. No other reason.

Way too many minutes passed considering it was a simple yes or no question, but eventually Saga received another message from Ritsu.

Yes, I would like that very much. Thank you for the invitation.

Saga tried not to laugh at how formal and subdued the response was. It certainly was missing that signature frazzled-Ritsu energy. He had no doubts that Ritsu had toned it down on purpose.

Him trying to play it cool somehow makes it cuter, ugh. It’s annoying, Saga thought, irritated with himself for finding even the simplest things about Ritsu adorable. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t understand how or why Ritsu had charmed him so thoroughly, but there was no denying that Saga was very much transfixed by his boyfriend.

My boyfriend.

Just the word itself made Saga’s heart skip a beat. This probably wasn’t good for his physical health - or his intelligence. He was acting more and more like a fool every day.

Okay, Saga typed after he realized he had yet to respond before he cringed just a tiny bit. He should probably say more than that, right?

Ritsu was already typing though, quickly sending another message: You still haven’t told me what you thought of 25th Century Nostalgia! You must like it if you made your name a reference, but I still want to know! Please?

Saga rolled his eyes in amusement at the small ‘please’. He was more than happy to indulge Ritsu’s request.

Plus, Saga knew that the more they talked about books, the longer he could likely keep Ritsu online chatting with him. Selfishly, Saga wanted to monopolize as much of Ritsu’s time as possible. He hoped that instant messaging would turn out to be the perfect opportunity to do so.

The two teens still hung out after school at the library nearly every day, and Ritsu still took up Saga’s offers to visit his home, but now on the nights where Ritsu couldn’t come over or couldn’t spend the night the two of them would end up chatting online. If it was really late Ritsu would only hop on for a half hour or so at the most, fearing getting caught by his parents, but Saga felt special knowing that Ritsu was risking getting in trouble just to talk to him for a little bit.

It was late now - and a school night - but Saga hoped he could manage to keep Ritsu’s attention off the clock so that they could talk past the half hour mark that was slowly, but surely approaching.

Saga, uncharacteristically, decided to exercise a little bit of patience as the Cherryblossombooks is typing… began to pop up and go away repeatedly. He smiled a little to himself, wondering what Ritsu could possibly want to say that was making him nervous this time.

Senpai, do you like me?

Saga blinked at the message, staring at it for a few moments in surprise. Why would Ritsu ask something like that? Saga spent as much of his free time as possible talking to Ritsu. They were dating, for God’s sake! Of course Saga liked him! Had Saga done something to make Ritsu think that he didn’t?

The indicator that Ritsu was typing popped up once again as Saga apparently hadn’t responded quick enough to soothe Ritsu’s insecurities.

I just mean, do you have any feelings for me? The younger teen attempted to clarify.

Saga couldn’t help but to shake his head and let out a laugh. Is he serious? Of course I like him. The idiot. Though, Saga supposed that made him an idiot too for liking Ritsu so much.

Saga typed out a response: I don’t like you, I love you.

However, he then thought twice about doing such a confession online. Shouldn’t he say something like that face to face? Ritsu obviously needed reassurance, but Saga felt like saying that in an instant message was somehow disingenuous. He started to delete it, getting about halfway through erasing the message when Sorata jumped up onto the desk with a loud, attention demanding meow.

“Not right now, Sorata.” Saga said in frustration, quickly grabbing him and putting him back on the floor. However, when he looked back at the screen he realized that Sorata had pressed send and Saga had sent an incomplete message reading: I don’t like you

Saga’s heart jumped into his throat, dread beginning to drown him as he typed as quickly as he could to try to rectify the mistake, but before he could do so his computer informed him that Cherryblossombooks had logged off.

Saga sent messages frantically regardless, hoping that Ritsu would see them when he logged back on,

i didnt mean to send t hat i swaer

i typed ‘i don’t likey ou, i love you’ but then starred to deletebit so i could say it to your face instead but then sorat a jumped up and hitt send

please beleive me i reallyl ike you ritus

**Ritsu

fuck im sorry

Saga leaned back in the chair and covered his face with his hands with a loud groan of despair. Sorata rubbed against his leg, unaware of the crime he had just committed. “Sorata. Get away from me right now.” Saga said miserably.

I have to let him know tomorrow that it was a mistake, Saga thought, anxious about what could possibly be going through Ritsu’s head right now. Fuck, what if he’s crying? He became extremely distressed at the mere thought and forced himself not to imagine such a heart-wrenching visual so he wouldn’t become a mess. Well, more of a mess.

After everything we’ve done together I can’t believe he really thought there was a possibility that I didn’t like him! God damn it, Saga groaned again.

He sent several more apologetic and reassuring messages to Ritsu, though doing so did not calm his aching heart whatsoever. Saga eventually tried to sleep, but he couldn’t rest at all. He spent the night worrying over his boyfriend (who now was under the impression that Saga didn’t like him at all) and itching for the next day to come quickly so he could see Ritsu after school.

I’ll clear everything up then, he’ll still come to the library, won’t he? Saga thought as he laid in bed, trying not to give in to the temptation to sit at the computer all night on the off chance that Ritsu logged back on. He’ll want some kind of explanation from me, won’t he? At the very least he should show up to tell me off for being a jerk. Either way, I’ll let him know the misunderstanding and make my feelings very, very clear for him so that he never questions it again. Saga hugged his pillow, burying his face in it. Ritsu had been coming around often enough for it to begin to faintly smell like him.

It made Saga hug the pillow tighter.

Saga was only running on about an hour of sleep the next day, but his nerves kept him wide awake throughout his classes. Once given the opportunity, Saga rushed off to the library. When not seeing Ritsu at their usual table, he felt a lump of worry form in his throat that he failed at swallowing down. He searched through the aisles of bookshelves, hoping there was a chance that Ritsu was browsing the selection, but Saga didn’t see him anywhere.

Ultimately, Saga decided to take a seat and wait.

And wait.

“I have to close the library soon.” The librarian informed Saga. “Are you staying after hours again?”

“Y-Yes. If that’s okay.”

The librarian was a little taken aback by the soft tone and upon further inspection saw dark circles under Saga’s eyes. “...Yes, it’s okay.”

“Thanks.” Saga said quietly, soon all alone in the library.

Ritsu hadn’t come.

He didn’t come the next day.

Or the next day.

Or the one after that.

Ritsu was gone.

“Were you ever on MySpace? Any cringey photos I should be scouring the internet for?” Kisa asked the new hire with glee, attempting to get to know him better and garner fuel for future teasing. The conversation had been bouncing back and forth between them for a while now, somehow leading them to this topic.

“Ah, no, I’ve never been into social media very much.” Ritsu answered with a small, slightly nervous laugh, surprised that their boss hadn’t already scolded them for chatting instead of working. “The closest I ever got was an AIM account I made when I was fifteen.”

“Oh? What was your username? Was it something really cringey?” Kisa asked with a laugh.

Takano was just about to yell at them, but then Ritsu turned a little red and it made Takano curious. He was a sucker for blushing brunettes, after all.

“It was, wasn’t it? Tell me!” Kisa poked at him.

“I-I just sort of made it up on the spot.” Ritsu said. “It was Cherryblossombooks, if I remember right…”

“Aw, honestly that’s kind of cute!” Kisa said.

Takano was going to have a heart attack.

#misscorn #day 6 2023 #onodera ritsu #takano masamune #kisa shouta #takaritsu week #sekaiichi hatuskoi #writing #haha nice @ my own writing #lmfao

11 notes · View notes

theobsessiveloser18 · 9 months

Text

Happy Derry Headcanons

*Upon returning to Avonlea (for vacation in Queens) Diana apologized to Jerry

*they were both very happy to see each other, but jerry was a little shy at first

*they stayed on good terms, became friends

*but 2 years later, when Diana turned 18, they were dating again

*This time it was not a secret, everyone found out, Diana's parents had not changed in terms of social class, they were furious, they yelled, they punished, they threatened, but Diana remained firm in her decision

"Now I decide the course of my life, I broke up with Jerry once, I won't twice, I love him whether he likes it or not."

*Aunt Jo was very supportive of Diana, now she practically lives with her and school, she bought a house in Avonlea to stay there for a few days, visit Minnie May, friends and other Avonlea visitors when they are on weekends or vacations

*Diana became a recognized pianist, and a governess to pay for her recitals, Jerry is still a farmer, thanks to his work he was able to buy a house for himself and Diana.

*Diana and Jerry get married at 22

*They go to live in Charlottetown, in a middle-class area, buy a rather dilapidated house, but they manage to remodel it and transform it into a comfortable place.

*Shortly after, Minnie May goes to live with them.

"You know, I'm glad to finally be free of mom and dad, they were driving me crazy." "We will still see them on weekends" "It doesn't matter, I'll miss Avonlea, but I'm glad to live with my older sister again" the girls hug each other "I hope you like that I'm here too" "Remember who spoke to you Jeremias" "Minnie May," Diana scolded. "You will never stop scolding me right" "Of course not, that's why I'm your big sister, and now I guess I'll be some kind of mother figure." "Well, I hope you do a good job, I don't mind your presence French boy, as long as I don't have to see anything inappropriate" "Of course, this is a decent home," Diana assured.

It was difficult for Diana to keep her word

"Not now Jerry, Minnie May is home." "she is sleeping" "you never know with her" "s'il te plait ma chérie nous ferons attention"(Please darling we will be careful)" "Je ne traumatiserai pas ma petite soeur" (I'm not going to traumatize my little sister) Diana shouted and Jerry gave in, but she hasn't given up, sometimes he manages to convince her, but only when Minnie May isn't home

*Ruby is Diana's neighbor, Jane lives a few blocks away and they have constant "women's meetings" at the 2 o'clock house but more than anything at Mrs. Baynard's, when Anne, Tillie and Josie and some ex-queens classmates go to visit there is no human power that removes women from that house

"I also want to be part of the talk" Minnie May commented when she came home from school and found them together "Well, why not?" said Anne. "oh really?" "Of course, you're not a little girl anymore, you're a lady" answered Anne "it's so lovely to be 15" they all laughed

"You know" said Minnie May after a while "I think I'm not going to get married" "What!!" some girls from Queens exclaimed, shocked, before the hard gaze of the Avonlea women, they hid a little "if marriage is a bit complex, mom and dad made me hate love, even now" "Marriage is not always pleasant dear, it has its good and bad moments, but it is charming" commented a friend of the girls "Anyway, if you decide not to get married in the future it will be fine Minnie May, you are a strong spirit, you would do well in the world, just don't let society tell you what to do" Jane said, the girl nodded gratefully

"Yes, it would also be of great help for my future, I could give a recital in any city without consulting the opinion of "my husband", just my violin and me… oh and Diana I want her with me, well if I take her I suppose that Jerry would have to come with us too, right?"

"That is right sweety" "It's okay, I can handle it just because of my success, a man who carries the suitcases doesn't hurt" "I don't think people would get excited to see a spinster playing an instrument, upper class people would consider it a scandal" Josie opined, over the years, she had become a better person, but no one could take away her "education" as a child rich "Better for me, I don't need the hypocritical rich to enjoy my talent, the poor people will be going, I'll get cheap, what they can afford and leave them enough money to eat, so people will flock to see me, who says that the poor They don't have the right to have fun." "I love hearing that, Minnie May, I'm so delighted that you and Jane have been so positively influenced by my coming into your lives." "Don't let the cigarette smoke go up to your head, Anne, what I told Minnie is from my situation, you can't say anything about being single, you're married to Gilbert" "Oh yes, that's my precious friend, oh Gilbert, my beloved and charming, handsome and noble Gilbert, he is the best husband in the world."

"No, that's not true, Moody is all that and more, there is no one who compares to him, so chivalrous, brave, and smart" "It's good that you stop there, I can believe the useless qualities that you mentioned something, but let me tell you something with all the love that I have for you dear, he is anything but intelligent" Everyone except Ruby who was furious laughed "Moody is much more intelligent than any of her husbands and even than you" before the incessant laughter she begged desperately as if she were still 16 years old "Come on Diana tell them"

"Okay, ladies, I'm not going to bring my husband into the discussion of the 'best husband' because all of our husbands, thank heavens, are excellent, and that's why we consider them the best to the point of entering into a ridiculous competition over who is the most handsome, talented and intelligent, but we don't need this, because each one of them is perfect for us and that's what's enough" said the black-haired woman in a conciliatory tone and she managed to finish the conversation there "However, let me tell you what I love Jerry so much and how happy I am to have chosen him, I love the fact that even our parents realize that we are and will be happier than they have been, the other day I was visiting them, and my mother as always He looked as if he were the most unpleasant thing in this world and I, with my natural elegance, asked her if she was not happy because he fulfilled what he always wanted" before the confused looks of his childhood friends and explaining to the women of Queens he continued "You see, my mother always wanted me to marry a Frenchman, and I did so, only with someone without wealth, a man of society, and I married a young man from humble origins, but in my defense she did not specify the kind of status I should have, he always said French, you can't blame me for omitting that little detail" At the woman's explanation they all started laughing like there was no tomorrow until Jane ended up with her cheeks as red as Anne's hair "Diana, you crossed the limits, poor woman, I'm sure she almost had a heart attack from so much impudence" "Almost smacked her," Minnie May commented with a smile.

"You must have seen her, it was so glorious, I wish Cole would have been there to make a portrait as detailed and beautiful as he does of her face, her expressions, I would hang that portrait on the living room wall, right in front of where we are sitting, and would tell visitors the fascinating history of the painting." "Diana, darling, a society woman shouldn't be so defiant or wild" commented one of the amused neighbors "You are absolutely right, my dear friend, a classy woman should not act like that, but I am Diana Baynard, the free and fun woman who will continue to do that kind of thing" The room was flooded with laughter again

Diana got pregnant, everyone (except the Baynards, what a surprise) were very happy) at that time, despite the tranquility that a pregnancy should have had, Diana lived through the busiest months of the last few years, traveled constantly to Avonlea, had some recitals in several cities, and received and visited her neighbors constantly, in addition to her work as a housewife.

She was constantly visited, Anne, Gilbert, Josie, Tillie, neighbors and even old friends of the queens and acquaintances appeared at her house, Marilla and the Baynard family advised her and helped with the pregnancy, Auntie Jo and Cole settled in the Baynard house and They stayed several months after Diana gave birth, she was especially grateful for so many wonderful people in her life.

Nobody called her the most "belle du monde" (beautiful in the world) pregnant woman as much as her husband.

Jerry is extremely accommodating to Diana, as if he no longer allows her to do any effort at home, she cooks, irons, washes, and keeps the house clean, Diana misses the routine a bit, but she loves her rest

"I was too lucky that you still liked me, after how bad I behaved with you"

"I had all the luck in the world to marry my first and only love, Diana, the most perfect girl in the universe, she is perfect for me"

One night Diana and Jerry were in her room, she was reading and he was writing a letter in French.

"You know dear she was thinking of something" "Tell me love" "it would be perfect if we had a small farm, like in green abbles" "You're serious Diana" Jerry asked very surprised, Diana thought that maybe it wasn't a good idea, they didn't have much money "Yes, I thought it would be nice, you know that children are created with animals, plus I know how much you miss working for the Cuthberts and the animals in your house" she commented with some shyness, but Jerry hugged her euphorically, and his doubts were dispelled. "That's the best idea in the world Diana, I love you so much amour" and she gave him one of those passionate kisses that Anne delighted to find described in books. "Tu fais de moi l'homme le plus heureux du monde d'une manière si simple que tu ne peux pas imaginer" (you make me the happiest man in the world in such simple ways that you cannot imagine) and the very serene and controller of such that even if Anne had seen she would not have believed

*Diana's pregnancy gave Minnie May the opportunity to bring out her curious

"Diana, Jerry I need to talk to you" "We hear you daughter" Jerry said jokingly. "At school the boys talk explicitly about how babies are formed" Diana was stunned and Jerry grabbed the newspaper so hard that he tore it, he drank coffee to calm down "I've stayed away from those conversations because I consider them indecent, And a woman should not make men boast of their stupid knowledge" "Your behavior seems very good to me Minnie May, however the word 'stupid' is not appropriate" "Anyway, the point is that although it may be considered inappropriate at my age, I would like someone to explain to me how a woman gets pregnant" Jerry spit out the coffee through his nose, Diana and Minnie May looked at him confused, the older one pondered words his sister for a few seconds "Alright" "really?" they asked confused "Yes, this is a modern home, not my parents' house, I prefer that Minnie May find out from us and not from what the new vulgar people of this world tell her" "However, I will write to Anne for her advice on how to tell her." "Yes, better write to him, I don't know how to explain the subject" "We know Jerry, you are not the most educated person in this house" "Minnie May!" "What? Was I rude?" I ask with sincere interest, the adults looked at each other confused

Anne sent a 13-page letter describing with the most graceful words in the world "said process" Diana was very grateful for the letter, kept it in a box along with others that her best friend had sent her, and decided that she was going to explain to him to Minnie may the process as she considered more appropriate. The talk went wonderfully, both were satisfied

"You did well to explain me in your own way, I'm sure that Anne's passionate explanation would have traumatized me" "Definitely, it was the weirdest thing I've ever read, and I already knew the process"

*Diana gave birth to triplets, Albert Fred Baynard, Anne Cordelia Baynard, and Charlotte Liria Baynard, they were beautiful brown and black-haired babies with bright brown and green eyes (from the Baynard family, the name of the last girl is a tribute to Jerry's mother)

*A short time later, Jerry buys a piece of land and turns it into an extension of the house, and it is the new farm.

"Society women should not be working on a farm" "We are no longer women of society my beloved sister, we are free damsels, owners of their own lives, who no longer care if their dresses get dirty, after all there is soap" "Spending time with Anne affected you" "No, I'm free, what's wrong with you? I thought you would have liked to grow up with animals" "Yes, but not to work on a farm, let Jerry do it, he has experience, or let's get employees like the Cuthberts" "The Cuthberts will get Jerry, because idols couldn't take care of the farm anymore and we'll do the same when the time comes." "being poor is so hard"

"It is, but for me it's worth it"

*Diana loves when the baynards, the cuthberts, miss stacy, bash, cole, tia jo and all her friends are gathered in her house, she loves her life like no one else.

#anne with an e #awae #diana barry #jerry baynard #diana and jerry #jerry and diana #derry #derry forever #avonlea #green abbles #netflix cancels the best #netflix cancels for fear of success #i hate you netflix #derry endgame

18 notes · View notes

purplesurveys · 27 days

Text

1847

1 - Who was the last person to knock on your door? Were they there to see you? I asked my mom to help wake me up this morning (in case I fail my alarm) since I had an early calltime for my event today. No, I wouldn't say she was there to see me per se.

2 - Have you left the house yet today? If not, do you have plans to leave the house later on? Yeah I was out since 8 AM. I was in Trinoma from 9 AM to 6 PM for an event, then I immediately drove to UP to see a wrestling show with Andi.

3 - What’s your favourite brand of chocolate? What type of chocolate bar from that brandis your favourite? I really like Reese's since it has peanut butter; my favorite is just the classic normal-sized cups.

4 - Have you ever met someone in person who you first met on the internet? Do you have plans to do that anytime soon? Yeah, I met with a fellow wrestling fan once to lend him my copy of Chris Jericho's Undisputed. I ended up not liking his personality and found him (and his friend, who he never mentioned he was bringing) quite rude, so I stopped talking to him shortly after that. Didn't even bother asking for my book back lol.

I used to feel guilty about leaving him hanging, and he even sent a handful of DMs asking what happened and apologizing for whatever he did, but then I just have to remember that he kind of sucked and I stop feeling bad.

5 - What was the last thing you used a blender for? I don't think I've ever used a blender. We've never even owned a blender.

6 - Have you ever got into an argument with a stranger on social media? Do you remember what it was about? I've been in a few. They've mostly been sociopolitical.

7 - When was the last time you cracked your joints? Is that something you do often? Can't remember, and no I don't do it a lot.

8 - What time is it right now? If you weren’t doing a survey, what else would you be doing right now? 10:43 PM. If I wasn't doing a survey rn I'd probably be on Rhythm Hive hahaha.

9 - If you had ten minutes to run around an empty supermarket and fill your trolley for free, what’s the first aisle you’d go for? My first thought was why would I need to get things if the grocery was empty? but ok it took me longer than I would like to admit to catch your drift haha.

Anyway I'd probably just get thrice the amount of things my mom would get on a usual run to help her out for a few weeks.

10 - Aside from Tumblr, what websites do you visit the most and why? Continued from Sunday evening. I have YouTube on pretty much as long as I'm awake. I like the background noise.

11 - Has COVID had any impact on your Christmas plans this year? What’s going to change or be different to normal? If you asked me this in like 2020 or 2021 I would have said yes. But it's been four years since the world's been on lockdown and everything's back to feeling as though we never had a pandemic.

12 - What’s your favourite flavour of cake? Are you any good at making that kind of cake? I don't really have a favorite flavor, more of a type – I like cheesecake and really it's the only kind of cake I have. No, I've never made one before and will always prefer buying it.

13 - Do you prefer sweet or sour candy? I don't really like candy, but I'll go with sweet.

14 - What colour is your favourite fruit? Is this a fruit you eat often? I don't like fruits either haha.

15 - Is your favourite restaurant an independent place or a chain? What is it that you love about it so much? It's a chain. Service is always great, the quality of the food is no different regardless which branch I go to, and they serve unlimited rice, cabbage, and miso soup so what's not to love? Hahaha.

16 - Are you genuinely a fan of Starbucks or do you think it’s all hype? No, I like Starbucks and go for it as much as possible when I'm looking for coffee.

17 - Do you own a Christmas jumper? What design/pattern does it have on it? Nope.

18 - What’s your favourite fit/style of jeans? High-waisted denim.

19 - What was the last non-essential item you spent money on? Iced coffee.

20 - Are you currently under any COVID-related restrictions where you live? Are people generally following the rules? We've come a long way folks...

21 - What did you last leave the room you’re in to do? If I understand this correctly, I went down to the living room for a few hours after work because that's what I usually do in the evening. I had dinner, walked and played with the dogs, and played a game on my phone.

22 - Have you ever read any self-help books? Did you find them useful? No.

23 - What’s your favourite programme on the Food Network (if you watch it)? If you don’t get that channel, what’s your favourite food/cookery show in general? I don't really watch cooking stuff anymore, even on YouTube. I used to though, a lot; Buzzfeed's Worth It used to be my favorite.

24 - Do you still watch cartoons? Every now and then when my sister and I get in the mood, sure.

25 - Who do you know with the most number of siblings? Would you ever want to live in a huge family? I knew two people from high school who came from a sibling set of 5. My grandpa and his siblings were, if I'm not mistaken, 7 in total. No, I'm fine with what our family size turned out to be.

26 - Are you a fan of garlic bread? I love garlic bread.

27 - Do you own any personalized clothing? What’s the reason for getting it? I don't think I do, no.

28 - Is anyone else in the same room as you right now? What is that person up to? It would just be me here.

29 - What colours are you wearing right now? Does your wardrobe contain a lot of those colours? White and grey. Sure!

30 - Do you like adding condiments to your food? If so, what are some of your favourites? Yes, I love condiments. Mayo, Japanese mayo, or sriracha.

2 notes · View notes

djcarnationsblog · 2 years

Note

[Prompt !! ]

Dee but he sleeps like...cat

And his family just found out

CATDEE-

...

Why did Glam not know of this sooner?

He prided himself in taking the time to know about his kids, from hobbies and likes, to dislikes and troubles. Glam liked knowing that he could easily interact with his kids in ways in which please them, and he simply likes knowing that his kids are, well, good kids.

This? This thing he didn't know about? It was so cute.

He didn't know what to expect when Ches came to his office, a dopey grin on his face as he practically dragged him from the office, down the stairs to the living room. Glam thought that perhaps the man finally got enough money to buy a better guitar, and wanted to show him.

But no, it was much better. Even Vicky and Heavy were there, respectively holding expressions of astonishment, then pure confusion.

When Glam was able to follow their gaze to the couch, he had to surpress a snort.

It was Dee, and he was sleeping. Better yet, sleeping like a cat. Curled up on the literal top of the couch for who knows what reason, lightly snoring away with his phone held limply in his hand.

It was so cute, Glam couldn't help but hold up his phone (after checking the flash and noise) and taking a few quick pictures, stifling his laughter.

"When did this start happening?" he muttered to his wife, who shrugged with a shake of her head, clearly just as amused as he was.

"What, do we have a full grown cat now?" Heavy interrupted, causing Vicky to snort. "He's a cat now. Oh no." Glam spoke teasingly.

Glam shuffled over to the couch, sitting down on it as he gestured to the kitchen, where a (conveniently place) roll of tinfoil lay. Ches was quick to catch on, snickering his ass off as he grabbed the roll and left the room, to tear a few of them off without disturbing the sleeping teen.

He came back a bit later, and the two were quick to start surrounding Glam's son with tin foil. Heavy was silently wheezing in the background, find it funny how they treated Dee like a literal cat.

Once they had finished their devious preparations, Ches went into the fridge and got out some pre-sliced cucumbers, placing them on top of the tin foil for maximum hilarity. God did Glam wanna shake that man senseless, trying instead not to breakdown laughing. He noticed Vicky recording and oh was this gonna be good.

Ches backed away, and so did Glam, looking at them all as he grinned almost deviously. Taking a second, he a finger, took a deep breath...

And whistled with deafening pitch.

It startled Dee awake in an instant, letting out a yelp as he did. He barely even processed what was going on, mind too foggy of sleep to actually identify the shininess around him as tinfoil, and the green around him as cucumbers.

But he let out a scream anyways cause clearly his mind must have seen something different, and clearly jumpstarted some kind of fright machine in him.

And he fell off the couch.

The family almost crumbled to the ground in laughter.

Dee jumped up with a start, knocking off some of the prank material as he whipped his head around, finally processing what in the world just happened. And that red shade of embarrassment consuming his face was worth it.

"DAMNIT DAD!" He exclaimed, immediately accusing (and rightly so) of his father being the originator of the chaos. "What was that for!?"

"I'm sorry! I just made a huge discovery that my son was half a cat! Can you believe it?" Dee's face of incredulity said otherwise, but Glam just thought that made it all even funnier.

"Our own fluffy kitten to snuggle with!" Vicky came in, Dee unable to escape her bear hug, though he desperately tried. "No!! No, I am not a cat- mOm!" his voice cracked in surprise when Vicky pulled him up from under the arms, shaking him around joyously.

"AAAAGH! I hate you!" Dee exclaimed, writhing in her grasp all he could. Glam wasn't gonna do it again, he knew that, he would let his son sleep like that if he wished. But he just had to do that, the idea was brilliant!!

At least he didn't mean the screams of hatred!

#DJC Drabbles #metal family #dee metal family #heavy metal family #vicky metal family #glam metal family #ches metal family

68 notes · View notes

aprillikesthings · 3 months

Text

I had originally promised msyelf I wouldn't live-tweet or live-blog my rewatch of she-ra (mostly bc it will make it take FOREVER to watch the whole thing) but...fuck it

THIS IS A REWATCH. I've forgotten plenty of it, but I still remember plenty too, and that's all going to bias how I react to things, and obviously there will be spoilers, and also I don't plan to react to EVERYTHING bc it would just take too long okay? okay

Edit: ....yeah this took me nearly two hours for one episode oops

First of all let me point out how hilarious it is to me that when scrolling back through my tags I found myself posting MULTIPLE TIMES that I wanted to write the kind of fic I'm working on but knew I'd need to rewatch the whole series to do it right and now FOUR YEARS LATER I'm finally giving up and doing it.

why am i like this lol

ANYWAY

NETFLIX IT HAS BEEN A COUPLE OF YEARS and I know he's legally changed his name WHY is Nate/ND's old name still on here

THat's....that's Angella. That's a terrible propaganda poster of Angella. I'm cracking up how did I not notice that before

Okay the very first time Adora says Catra's name I lol'ed bc I've watched this fanvid (which came out after s2) a truly bananapants number of times and it's just what I immediately thought of

youtube

I started reading a fic recently that I couldn't get into and gave up on, but it pointed out something that seems OBVIOUS NOW: the reason the Horde is all children/teenagers is like, the whole "destroying the villages of Etheria" thing. Just slaughtering the parents and stealing the kids.

Then again maybe they said that in canon and I forgot. Dumb shit like that is of course why I'm rewatching.

Someone pointed out that both Adora and Catra obviously have ADHD and I cannot unsee it

I mean yeah that's...that's her entire motivation

(I mean not quite in the way Adora means it here but)

I will never, ever be over how fast this show started baiting them as a pairing. I remember the first time I watched the first episodes saying "the people who made this came from fandom and they know exactly how to get us."

Catra nails Shadow Weaver's motivation--"She's just mad she doesn't have any real power that doesn't come from Hordak and everyone knows it." And then calls Adora a "people-pleaser." She's not wrong.

Like, Catra understands the motivations etc of everyone but herself

(...something something abused children something C-PTSD something hypervigilance)

Catra's tail swishing just like a real cat's does when angry is A+

Re: stealing the skiff: Catra's supposed to be the one with bad impulse control but Adora is just as bad!! (it's the ADHD)

...pulling a random pretty sword out of the ground that's lit up like a quest in a video game is also poor impulse control lollll

I still crack up at this one and am still surprised I haven't read a fic that makes a big deal out of hair-pulling

Bow folding up random laundry on the floor and asking where it goes while talking to Glimmer is some nice early character-building. "This boy is not a sexist douchebag."

I mean the outfit helps too lol

Okay so on the one hand I know character age wank is fucking stupid, but also I get why people were like "...are these all minors or what" considering Glimmer's being grounded and then arguing with her mom like a high-schooler. My own parents (who were more controlling than most) stopped actually "grounding" me once I was 18--they just forbid me from using the car for anything but work or school because they owned it. Which is why they owned the car. Anyway.

(True story: that was their punishment for me getting bad grades at community college, and my response to this was to quit school, buy my own car, and move in with my then-boyfriend's family)

I wonder if Adora running off to do things on her own in order to attempt to protect people she cares about without asking them if that's even something they want her to do will be a continuing theme for her 🤔

omg the way they did her eyes/face makes Glimmer look so fucking creepy here

SO MUCH HAIR-PULLING poor Adora

I FORGET WHAT THIS SAYS I know it's an actual "alphabet" and people get tattoos and shit

(so, SO many tattoos of the failsafe...)

(okay but let's be honest a tattoo of the failsafe from the last episode is a really great way of finding other nerdy sapphics, they'd be the only ones to recognize it)

This is kinda heavy-handed ("don't just believe everything authority figures tell you, kids!") but also this show was aimed at like 12-year-olds so

Yeah this absolutely reminds me of conversations I've had over multiple decades about LGBT people and how people who know us as friends, coworkers, neighbors; realize we're Just People and are less likely to be dicks to us--not always, but often. Adora has never met a princess, so it was easy for the Horde to convince her they're all evil.

OH MAN this scene reminds me SO MUCH of the one in Arcane where Ekko is talking to Caitlyn about how Piltover/the Enforcers are fucking over the people of Zaun/the Undercity

Yeah good lord I could do a line-by-line dialogue comparison.

"Woman who has always been on the side of what she thought was The Law finds out everything she's ever known is a fucking lie and actually, she's been part of a force oppressing and destroying other people and immediately wants to fix things"

*squints at Caitlyn and Adora*

We never do find out who Grayskull is, but that's because Netflix doesn't have the rights to the He-Man stuff, and I admit this was probably the best way to keep She-Ra's signature line without getting into that

OKAY FIRST EP OVER omg

#april rewatches spop #there I have a tag #Youtube

4 notes · View notes

awritingcaitlin · 1 year

Text

Find the Word Tag

It was only after I set up that whole post and queued it up that I realized I used Tana's words and not the ones she tagged me for so HERE WE GO AGAIN WITH MY WORDS. (sorry @tananaphone lol) (but am I?)

MY ACTUAL WORDS ARE rope, gain, force, light, safe

Have snippets from Siege of Berthingtonn, for something different!

GAIN 🧝🏻‍♀️

Riela, of course, showed her age differently. She was still too young to have gained the ageless look elves and part elves had. Rinnie barely felt like she herself had gained that. But maybe that was only because she still felt young in comparison to many other elves she interacted with regularly. Regardless, Riela was definitely not more than fifty, and Rinnie would be surprised to learn if she was more than thirty. She was an otherwise thin and fit-looking woman who never seemed to stop moving. She kept her brown hair pulled back into a braid and while she smiled to everyone, it only looked genuine to few.

FORCE ✨

“Yes!” Rinnie hissed. “I have a plan.” She wet her hands in the sink and ran them through her hair to freshen it. “I’m going to ask Evianne to force some honesty into this conflict and make the cleric stop cheating. Once that’s taken care of, it’ll turn into her being pretty versus me being pretty. And then we’ll see whose flirting game is better.” She smoothed her skirts. “And ladies and gentlemen, no one beats my flirting.”

“Weren’t you worried about them recognizing you?” Nathaniel asked.

“Well, if they do before I can do my thing, it’s going to be a fight. But we were preparing ourselves for that anyway. As it is, I’m banking on her chalking her problems up to an off-night and moving on.”

“Steep bet,” Nathaniel warned.

“Got anything better that doesn’t involve a gunfight in a bar?” Rinnie asked.

LIGHT 🔍

“Suppose you do find her,” Risingblock said. “The airship is still leaving tonight.”

“Are you to tell me that you were just going to leave her here?” Kanjo asked angrily. “You already said you were calling back the current teams in a few hours.”

“After a certain point, we have to accept our losses and move forward,” Risingblock said. “We are bringing this Embassy down to a skeleton crew in light of the events of the other night.”

Kanjo gritted his teeth. “May I remind you that you do not write my paycheck, she does.” He slammed his palm down on Risingblock’s desk for emphasis. “You surely have a trail planned, we’ll go back then. Or, I’ll buy airship tickets and get them reimbursed. I will not leave Berthingtonn until I have found Rin, or I’ve found her corpse.”

SAFE 😥

Riela sighed. “I don’t want Berthingtonn to fall like Asnany did.”

Rinnie’s look turned horrified. “Were you there when it fell?”

Riela snorted. “You assume I’m older than I look. Half elf I may be, but I’m still young. My parents resisted the Nidtrins. As punishment, they took me away to try to brainwash me. It didn’t work.”

“You were too stubborn,” Rinnie surmised.

“That’s part of it,” Riela said. “My parents also kept in contact with me through various means. A group of Evianne clergy helped parents get in contact with their kids. They tried to break us all out when I was eleven. My parents died getting me out. Before she died, my mom told me to run to Berthingtonn where I’d be safe.” She closed her eyes. “Well, I’m here, but it’s no longer safe.”

ROPE 😬

“So, we’re taking the stairs, Sir?” Sergeant Obrix, a short, but broad, Berthan infantryman asked.

“Unless someone’s hiding a grappling hook and some rope somewhere, yes,” Killian answered.

“Sir,” Adler began slowly. “Isn’t that one of the most dangerous things you can do in a city fight?”

He hated, hated, asking that. He hated asking something that could potentially undermine Killian’s authority, over soldiers Killian didn’t know well. Adler was also certain that this was a near-suicidal order, one Killian would not have given in his right mind.

“Yup,” Killian replied. “But unless you have a better idea you’d like to share with the class, this is what we’re going to do.”

tagging @pinespittinink, @sentfromwolves, @muddshadow, @tananaphone (reverse uno) and @golden-heretic for the words: age, honesty, find, fell, slow

#tag game #find the word #my writing #siege of berthingtonn #riela #rinnie #nathaniel #kanjo #killian

9 notes · View notes

light-lanterne · 1 year

Text

so what the heck happened to my dad?

people asked. guess i can summarise it and then refer anyone to this post instead of trying to be brave and making myself sad over and over. details will be kept somewhat vague because safety is important.

tw for crime and death, i suppose.

anyway,,, for the whole story,,,

so, my dad is a pilot and a flight instructor, like his father before him, and everyone on his side of the family. i suppose he used to be very good, but he's 70 years old and a heavy smoker so his eyesight is not what it once was. as such, he had to stop flying by himself and merely coaches people through the process.

helps them make sure a plane is good to fly,,, makes sure their papers are all in order,,, sits with them through flights,,, that kind of thing.

which brings us to The Day. a client/friend of his wanted to do some maintenance to his little airplane and thus, he requested that my dad met up with him. the plan was that my dad would use public transport to get somewhere, and then this guy would pick him up and they'd drive to the airport.

so, my dad got ready, said he'd be late (like the day before, and the day before that) and at 10:35 am, he left our apartment to go do that.

and then he never came back.

footage caught by a camera somewhere between my place and the station. my dad would hate this: he despises photos.

at first, we thought he and his friend had finished their maintenance and had decided to actually take a little trip somewhere. it wasn't exactly normal, but it had happened before so we clung to that theory. there was no reason to think anything bad had happened yet, and the only unnerving part was that he wouldn't pick up his phone.

but hey, maybe it just ran out of battery, right?

more days passed and his absence became abnormal. again, it didn't happen often, but sometimes my dad would go on these little unplanned adventures with his clients. my family,,, by american standards we're poor; by local standards, we're (very low) middle class. so we needed the money and my dad would always take those chances and buy us ice cream to apologise for his absence.

unlike any of those times, however, he was unreachable. and that had never happened before; he always found a way to talk to us because my mom is known to freak out and despite their frequent fights i think he actually loved her. so the fact that he wasn't calling was weird and we were starting to worry.

but then, a few days after he left, we got a phone call.

not from him, but from the family of my dad's client. he was also missing and they were very worried because the man was not known to leave for days at a time (like my dad), and they wanted to know if we knew anything they didn't. naturally, we didn't.

so that's when we filed a missing people's report. we also tried calling everyone my dad and the client knew to get information and maybe retrace their steps, but no one knew anything and the cops came up short from their initial one-week investigation.

all anyone knew was that my dad had gotten picked up by the dude, they'd made it to the airport in question, and then they never got to the hangar with the plane. no security footage, no useful witnesses,,, they just vanished.

the cops kept investigating, or so they said, but they did a pretty shitty job because there was a massive development in the case and we didn't learn it from them.

we learned it from the newspaper.

turns out, the client's family had gotten a phone call from some cartel members who claimed to have taken their dude. and i don't know many details, but the assholes had to have been convincing because the family started selling everything they could to get money in order to pay ransom. unlike us, they are actually fairly well-off. most of their assets, however, were locked under the client's name so they did struggle a bit to gather the money.

ultimately, they managed to collect the equivalent of 200k dollars and tried to get their dude back.

but the assholes cut off contact after a bit (not without sending them photos of a couple unidentified dead men) and that's when the dude's family contacted the media to try to pressure the authorities to actually do something.

it's been radio silence since then. no one knows anything about the client. and my dad?

his name was on the footnote of the original news article, wasn't even mentioned in the many copies that followed, and the cops have recently told us they're removing priority because it's been too long and they can't find anything new so they're going to focus on another case.

make no mistake; the search for the client is still ongoing. although not someone to appear on the newspapers on the daily, he is wealthy and his life appears to matter more than my low middle class, 70-year-old sickly father. the client's family never contacts us on their own volition,,, the cops are not looking for him,,, heck, the narcs didn't even bother calling us because i guess they didn't care for him either.

no one cared for him but us, his family, and a friend of his.

they even removed his missing people's poster from the rotation. (the other side of the image has his photo and some compromising information.)

so where does that leave us now?

my dad is gone and my mom will cling to the hope that he's somewhere out there, but i'm pretty sure he's dead. i know him enough to know that he wouldn't have let himself be taken without a fight and it's easier to deal with one person than two, i suppose. they weren't after my dad, after all.

(to be fair, maybe the narcs did try to call us,,, but my dad was paranoid and didn't have our phone numbers in his cellphone, so they would've had to ask him and i know he wouldn't give it to them. so yeah, most likely got himself murdered.)

the cops are unhelpful. it's not like they didn't do anything at all, but the little they did was,,, pretty basic work and didn't provide anything at all. i mean, we had to tell them about the newspaper story and they were pretty bewildered because they hadn't heard a thing. they did the bare minimum and the government simply doesn't care about the massive amount of missing people in this shithole country. much less about an old man that once gave them a little trouble (a story for another time).

my family is struggling. forget the emotional aspect: my dad's job was irregular and while we could afford most of our bills and food, it was not enough for a small, insignificant thing called "rent". we owe our landlord around 5k dollars and that might not sound like too much to you american and european folks, but it is a lot in our currency.

(we're lucky our landlord is an old friend of my mom's and that she's very understanding; we should've been evicted at least three years ago.)

the cherry on top is that in a bizarre twist of events i find myself being the only one who is making any money rn. my mom is not exactly young and she's deaf so no one would hire her anywhere. my brother? autistic with a tendency to say shit that makes people angry so job interviews also didn't go too well.

myself? also somewhat deaf, also very autistic but in a different flavour (plus, i am disabled so that's fun) but hey, i managed to find a job that pays me almost 100 dollars a week so at least our basic expenses are covered.

i am the man of the house >:) even if my family doesn't know it yet

alas, the situation is still somewhat dire but we're very slowly getting back on our feet. we might be able to pay rent to our landlord for the first time in years, i finally feel a little important after years of feeling lost (it's been tough since i had to drop out of college), we got to throw away the ugliest carpet known to men now that my dad is not guarding it, and we might even afford a small christmas ham or something for the holidays

(we couldn't afford a tree, though)

my dad was never a fan of photos so i don't have many with him. i'm the tiny one (that was our christmas tree for years,,, my mom gets creative lol)

it's,,, going.

it's very hard, i'm thoroughly exhausted, i haven't gone to bed in a month and my health has taken a swan dive into the abyss, but it's going.

so yeah, that's the whole story, i guess. my dad was with the wrong person at the wrong time and now he's gone and i can't even grieve him because there is a chance he's still alive.

guess we'll never know.

anyway, i'll end this here. support me and my family if you can and want to and read my stories because that makes me happy~

#⚰️#🧸

10 notes · View notes

homosexual-newsboy · 28 days

Text

heal me only to break me again

Ralbert, newsies

TW here for: death, suicide, albeism (breif), sexism (breif)

Also, note that ~~~ marks the beginning and end of me, an asexual who has never even kissed someone before, very briefly having my lovely boys make out so uh you can skip that if you want.

Race was a fast kid. Really fast. That's how, in second grade, he got his nickname.

Jack Kelly walked up to his friend (and brother, eventually) and said 'You should be called Race, not Antonio."

That's how everyone knew him from that moment on.

Race was also a dancer. A really, really good dancer. He was one with the movement and music. Anyone who had seen him dance could have told you how amazing he was.

He had a cool best friend.

He had a cool mom who adopted him and Jack when he was sixteen years old.

He did well in school.

He got into a good college.

Nobody really understood why he jumped.

All anyone knew was that he somehow survived, and all the things he was before were no more.

Antonio was not fast. He couldn't figure out how to get going in a wheelchair.

He insisted that nobody call him Race. Just Antonio.

Everyone listened.

Antonio would never dance again, because he would never even stand again, and all that he had worked for was lost. The one thing he loved in life was gone forever.

His cool best friend was treating him like he was fragile. No best friend shenanigans ensued, ever. Just, "Tony, are you okay?" and "Tony, should I call someone?"

He would not answer Medda's calls, or Jack's, even when he knew he probably should.

School didn't matter anymore.

He was going to major in dance. That wasn't happening anymore.

Everyone understood why Antonio was distant.

Albert DaSilva, Tony's best friend and roommate, he was the only one kept close. Even when everyone else was being pushed away.

Slowly, Antonio became more himself, able to move around and able to go a day without crying (sometimes). He let Albert call him Race again.

And then it happened.

The day that shot him down and raised him up all at once.

Albert entered the apartment to the sound of a nature documentary and crying.

"Tony?" He called out. "You in here?"

He was met with a loud sob.

He hurried to sit down next to Race, who was propped up by six throw pillows on the couch (a number that Albert found absurd and Antonio found secure and comforting).

"What's going on?" Albert asked softly, putting an arm over Race's shoulder.

"Nothin'." Race lied.

Albert paused the documentary and asked again.

"I miss being... not disabled. I just wanna be myself again."

"Did something happen? Did someone say something?"

"Yeah, uh. I just, uh. I went to get groceries cause I wanted to help out an' stuff, and I was confronted by three things I hate, which are ableism, sexism, and having to ask for help."

"Care to continue?"

"... sure. Uh. Your stupid man-period stuff was on a shelf I couldn't get to myself so I asked a guy passing by if he could help me and he asked what I needed pads for so I told him 'it's for my roommate.' And he's all, 'are you friends with your roommate?' and I said yes and he says, and I quote, 'wow, I could never be friends with or date a disabled person' an' he pointed to my pride pin when he said that so I was all shocked and so I ask, like, why, and he says 'it couldn't be a real relationship because it would be built on pity, and only one person could actually function.' So I pointed out that I'm the one doing the grocery shopping, and he told me it's pathetic that I would buy pads for my roommate because it's not manly enough and says, 'not that a kid in a wheelchair could even be considered a man anyways.' AND THEN he just WALKED AWAY without helping me so I had to sit there waiting for someone else to pass by."

Race took a long breath and choked out another sob.

"Wow, that's awful. I'm sorry." Albert said, hugging Antonio.

"And now, now I'm wondering if he's... Like, he might be right. What if nobody ever falls in love with me?"

"You'll find someone."

That someone should be me, Albert thought.

Race shifted to look Albert in the eyes.

"What if I don't just want 'someone', Al?"

The look in Tony's eyes made Albert's heart ache. But it also sparked something within him.

"What do you want, then?"

Antonio looked away, then back at Albert, wiping tears from his eyes.

"You." He whispered.

Their separate worlds became one.

~~~ Albert's lips were against Race's in a second. He needed Race. Race needed him. They needed each other the same way your average person needed air.

Race wrapped his arms around Albert's neck and pulled himself closer to Albert, and Albert got the message. He pulled Race onto his lap, one leg on each side of him, crossed around his back.

"This okay?" He mumbled.

"Please." Race replied, urgent.

Albert was in heaven, sitting there, kissing a trail from Antonio's ear down to his shirt's collar. When he got there, he returned to Race's lips, kissing him like his life depended on it.

Maybe it did.

Maybe their lives depended on that moment, Albert kissing Race and Race kissing back while tugging gently on Albert's beautiful red hair. ~~~

All the two know is that when they're done, they're both grinning like Cheshire cats, happy.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to kiss you." Albert said, his voice airy and almost disbelieving.

"Sixth grade." Race said.

"What?"

"I think I've liked you like that since sixth grade, that day... Mr. Denton told you you couldn't possibly be a boy because you didn't look like one, so you picked up those scissors and chopped your ponytail off and handed it to him. He deserved that."

Albert laughed lightly.

"I got you beat though, cause I liked you before I cut my hair. It was still sixth grade though. At a dance recital when we got to dance together. You and your cute fluffy hair and how... perfect you were. I hate that we don't dance together anymore, since it's girls and boys in partnerships, you know."

"I wouldn't be able to dance with you either way." Tony's voice became cold, sad, distant.

Albert felt bad instantly for bringing it up. Dancing.

Something Race had held so close to his heart since he was little. The only thing he had, most of his life. All he had was the freedom that came with dancing and it was gone.

Race couldn't stand it.

"I just... even if I could only do it one more time. I didn't care, for a while. I was burnt out and done with everything and I was planning on saying goodbye to dancing anyways, but now. Now I'm alive and planning on living and I just want to fly again. I'm no one without that piece of me, Albie. I'll never be like that again, though, because I didn't do the job right."

"Don't... Don't say that. You're still you, the you that I care so deeply about, even if you can't dance. Even if the doctor's 'maybe one day' never comes. You're still my amazing best friend and some extra, no matter what."

"I know, Al. It just makes me want to puke when I think about the fact that I will never be a dancer again."

Albert stopped. He nodded. He knew how it would feel if he were never able to dance again. He would go crazy in his own head.

"Hey, I have an idea." He said suddenly, jumping up off the couch.

"What is it?"

"Can I pick you up? Sort of?"

"I mean, go for it."

So Albert did. He pulled Race up, arms secure around his waist so he wouldn't fall, and lifted him on top of his feet.

"Put your arms around my neck and hold on tight." He instructed.

Race did as he was told, sort of scared for whatever Albert had in mind.

Albert, with one hand, typed something in his phone, turned up the volume, and slid it into his back pocket.

A familiar song ran through the speakers of Albert's phone as Albert wrapped his arms back around Antonio's waist and began to shuffle back and forth as carefully as possible.

It does great favors to the situation that Race is pretty light.

"I know it's not the same," Albert said, "but it's still one more dance."

The song came to an end and the two were re-seated on the couch, feeling something indescribable. Joy and sadness. Heartbreak and hope. All together in one small, half smile.

"Thank you." Race said. He dared not make eye contact. He didn't want to cry anymore.

He was happy, he was happy, he was happy.

He wanted it to last as long as it could.

Two weeks, in other words.

Two weeks of being able to talk about all that was inside of him. Two weeks staying up until midnight cuddling with Albert and watching crappy movies. Two weeks of somewhat happiness swept Race off his feet and led him to the light at the end of the tunnel.

Two whole glorious weeks before there was an avalanche, and the tunnel's exit was blocked.

"Heya, Tony. How's it going?"

Jack Kelly sat down in front of him. Brotherly meeting. Urgent.

"I'm alright. And you?"

Jack looked down at the table.

"Look, I don't want to be the one to tell ya this... But, I'm here 'cause you'se my brother and I wants ta be here for ya."

"Okay?" Dread pooled in the pit of Race's stomach.

"Red's gone."

"What?"

He heard wrong he heard wrong he heard wrong-

"They found 'im in an alleyway, beat bloody and long gone."

It's not true it's not true it's not true it's not true-

"Tony, you'se gotta stay with me, okay?" Jack was crying.

Someone killed Albert someone killed Albert someone-

"You're lying. He's fine." Race's voice shook as he spoke.

"Turn on the news."

"He can't be gone."

"I know it hurts."

"YOU DON'T KNOW ANYTHING!" Race yelled. He didn't care that his neighbors could probably hear him, he didn't care that he would hurt Jack's feelings, he just didn't care about anything at all. "You, you don't even come close to understanding a thing! The only thing I had was him, and according to you he's not here anymore! You still have the boy you love so don't even think for a second that you know! You- I love him and I won't... won't ever..."

Race couldn't go on.

Race would never get to tell Albert that he loved him.

Race was nothing.

Race was not a dancer and he wasn't fast and he wasn't good in school and he hardly had family and he wasn't a boyfriend.

And Albert who gave those things back to him...

Albert who held Race and danced with him when he was sad.

Albert who occasionally offered to push Race's wheelchair down the empty sidewalk as fast as he possibly could just to get Race to smile.

Albert who offered to help Race find something else to do in school.

Albert who encouraged Race to talk to Jack.

Albert who held Race's hand and kissed his nose and did everything a person in love would do.

Albert who gave Race all the things he'd lost and then some, just to take it all back again. Never again would he have those things.

He was going to follow and he was going to give himself all of the things that Albert took away from him by leaving him here.

He wasn't staying.

"Jack, you've got to leave."

"I ain't leaving you here alone after what you did a few months ago."

"I'm not STUPID, okay? Leave me alone."

Jack looked hurt. But still, he nodded, said goodbye, and left.

Common happening for the day, leaving Race alone.

Race could end up alone when he finished the job.

Maybe.

Or maybe he would find his way to all that he had lost before.

He wouldn't be able to let you know.

Healing, he decided, was not his thing. It was only a matter of time before things came full circle, and he broke again.

#newsies #ralbert #angsty shit with a VERY small side of fluff #also they make out breifly #tw suicide #tw death #tw ableism #tw sexism #trans Albert dasilva #race is in a wheelchair #Antonio higgins #newsies live #newsies AU

1 note · View note