#i googled the baby's name to double check i spelled it right and this fucking killed me idk why it made me laugh so hard
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unemployed (baby)
#psy's no punctuation posts#aa tag#ace attorney#spirit of justice#i googled the baby's name to double check i spelled it right and this fucking killed me idk why it made me laugh so hard
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back on OC bullshit and that means making ✨much needed edits!!✨
(aka i’m ranting about self indulgent stuff for a while)
including, unfortunately, a lot of name changesssss
(so sorry mutuals but some of these characters were named when i was in the third grade they need to go-)
there are a handful of these OCs (chris, ethan, tony, etc.) who are part of the main canon of this Currently Unnamed story, but had originally been created in a modern au *COUGH NINJAGO COUGH*
their names were fine in that context. however, the world that this story takes place in is drastically different from the semi-modern setting of ninjago cough ergo…. they no longer sit right
SOME OF THE ALTERATIONS THAT MIGHT PROBABLY BE CHANGING AGAIN SOMETIME IN THE NEAR FUTURE:
daku is definitely getting a whole new name. guranteed, at some point that’s gonna happen
i don’t know what it’s gonna be at ALL
but he was my first oc ever thus i have zero confidence that it wasn’t at least a little bit racist in its origin (i’m like 88% positive that name was pulled from google translate’s asscrack),
no matter how much i like the meanings of the name ‘daku’ in other languages i can’t ignore my sad little third grader attempt to sound japanese,
the sound of it does not suit his character at all, i can’t even come up with a face for him because of it,
i’m tired of it being compared to deku, shall i go on,
chrisanth, or chris, is getting only a minor name adjustment i say before rambling for a thousand years
because i love the idea of naming him after the chrysanthemum flower (i’ve seen too many of those this autumn)
AND the meaning of the particular name ‘chrysanth’ is fucking gorgeous (“golden flower, brilliant and precious flower like gold that glitters in the light” according to one (1) single webbed site) but the step between that name, ‘chrisanth’, and ‘chris’ feels too,,,, shhhhort????
and tbh i’m not sold on the nickname ‘chris’ anyway given the whole. weird japanese/middle eastern vibe-mashup that he has,
neither of which match a name that could be used for a white plumber—
ALTHOUGH, although although i did happen to stumble upon the name CHRYZANT which GREATLY appealed to my fondness for bizarrely-spelled names,
however i did not see any sources that said it meant the same thing as ‘chrysanth’, that it was a literal translation to the chrysanthemum flower,, it’s. not a problem at all rlly, that is what his name is literally based on like i said but i. i just like the other definition that one website gave me so much i don’t care if it’s bullshit i have to stick w/ it for now
so officially his tag has been changed to the weirdly-spelled ‘khrisanth’ for now-
AND THEN THERES TONY.
i don’t feel like iiiiiii have to change his all that much???
considering his full name is anthony and that’s a pretty ‘culturally flexible’ (i say with a HEAVY grain of salt) name??????
but it is weird now because that’s the name of my aunts weird boyfriend and apparently he’s sticking around now SO LIKE—
IM THINKING ABOUT CHANGING IT TO ANTON.
because i fuuuuuckingggg loooooove that name…
and he lives in a region with fashion that is heavily northeastern european-inspired, & as far as i know that name is pretty popular around that region?? i’ve yet to double check on that from reliable sources don’t quote me on that please fjfjfkfh
and then there’s my poor baby oc, ink, who was created in a very half-assed way, uhh fjfjkdhd so far it’s the only ‘officially’ human oc i have in this world?? there are other humans but it’s just. the only one i got? i’m so sorry sweetie werewolves are just hotter than humans—
it uses it/its pronouns, which. i have never done. i want to be careful with this one, not only is it human but it uses pronouns i have never met anyone with before fjfjdkhd i know they’re out there but i just. don’t know any of them, so this character just feels like an egg from some strange bird that i don’t know how to handle at all and i’m just tryina handle it veeeery caaarefully—
ANYWAY OFF TOPIC- i want to give it a name that REALLY suits them. ‘ink’ does not. feel like that. fjhfkdhdjdbdjb
iiii don’t really have any ideas at the moment, but this is one that i’d love feedback on please help me properly care for this bean,,, name suggestions would be great, literally any, i mean it
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Consequences - Matthew Tkachuk: part 6
summary: you absolutely hate Matthew Tkachuk so it’s just your luck when you wind up pregnant with his child.
a/n: well... here it is lol 2(or 3?) weeks late. sorry for the wait, this chapter was just a bitch to write and every time i thought i was done, i wasn’t happy with it & i didn’t wanna post just for the sake of posting. but i stayed up until 2 a.m. to finish this, so technically it is sunday so im posting on schedule lol
im not sure how many parts are left to this story, maybe two or three + an epilogue but i haven’t decided yet.
also, this gif made me feel things 😂
word count: 2.1k (i wish they were longer too but im doing the best i can😩)
warnings: none other than a couple swear words
Part 6
29 weeks
“What are you doing?”
“Researching how to murder someone and get away with it.” You mutter, typing where to buy a tiger in Google.
Becca gives you a wary look and sits next to you. “Everything okay?”
“No!” You groan in frustration, tossing your phone on the coffee table. “Matthew is driving me insane.”
She frowns. “Is he being an ass?”
“He’s being nice. Too nice.” You grumble, ignoring when Becca chuckles. “It’s like he’s trying to make up for missing the doctor’s appointment even though I told him I forgive him.”
Becca raises an eyebrow at you and you try to ignore her pointed look. “Do you though?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask defensively.
“You’re different around him now and I’m sure he’s noticed. It’s like you don’t trust him.”
You start to deny her accusation but stop to think about it. Were you more cautious around Matt lately? You certainly didn’t let yourself depend on him for things that you had been before, too afraid that he would let you down. You wanted to, but there was a nagging voice in the back of your mind reminding you that he’s let you down before and there’s always a chance he will again.
It’s as if Becca can read your mind because she shrugs. “You should be honest with him.”
However, something you’ve learned recently is that too much honestly can get you in trouble.
. . .
Sending Matt a text that said we need to talk, probably wasn’t the best approach because it took him approximately fifteen minutes to show up at your apartment and his is a half hour drive away from yours.
So his windblown hair and wide eyes really weren’t a surprise when you opened your front door.
“So, I think I should have worded that text a little better.”
“You think?” He huffs, walking past you when you step aside. He doesn’t even bother to take his shoes or jacket off, walking straight to the living room and turning to look at you.
“I’m sorry. For whatever I did.” He says and you groan.
“That’s the problem! Stop being sorry for things. It’s driving me nuts.”
He frowns and looks at you in confusion. “So… you don’t want me to be sorry for things?”
“I don’t want you to not be sorry for things, I just want you to stop being sorry for everything. It’s like you’re walking on eggshells around me.”
“I’m just trying to make-”
“Make up for missing the appointment.” you say, finishing his sentence. “I know.” your hand falls to your stomach and you sigh. “We’re going to be parents in less than three months. We need to start trusting each other.”
Matt slowly walks over to you and reaches out for your hand which you let him hold. His thumb rubs across the back of it and he nods.
“You’re right.”
You grin and lightly punch his shoulder with your free hand. “Of course I am. When am I ever wrong?”
He smiles, pulling you in for a hug and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You ignore the way it makes your heart race because the last thing you need right now is your feelings for him to get even more confusing when you’re both finally on the same page.
Things are good now and you can’t risk messing it up.
. . .
31 weeks
He’s like a kid in a candy store, you’ve realized as you follow Matt around buy buy BABY. He has two carts, one already stocked full of things and the other slowly being filled. You stopped keeping count of how much everything costed an hour ago because the number started to make you queasy.
“He has enough clothes, Matty.” You whine, taking note of how Matt trips over his feet when you call him by that nickname. “and he’ll grow out of them before he even gets a chance to wear them.”
“Last one, I swear.” He says, holding up an outfit. “C’mon, how fucking cute is he going to look in this?”
“If his first word is a swear word, I’m going to kill you.” You mutter, taking the outfit from him and tossing it in the cart. Matt just grins and rests a hand on your stomach, hoping the baby will kick.
“How’s Joey?”
“Grayson is doing just fine.”
“We’re never going to come to an agreement on a name, are we?” he asks and you smile sweetly.
“Nope.”
He laughs and starts walking towards the checkouts.
“Did my mom tell you that they’re coming to visit?” He asks and you nod, recalling your conversation with Chantal. She’d called you first to make sure you were okay with the entire Tkachuk clan showing up. She knows how stressful pregnancy is and didn’t want to overwhelm you.
But you were ecstatic when she asked if it was okay for them to visit. You’ve grown to depend on her for any pregnancy questions over the past seven months and even when you needed some regular advice for everyday things, you sometimes texted her.
“Yeah, it’s Wednesday, right?”
Matt nods, smiling politely at the cashier as he starts loading every thing on the conveyor belt. You can tell that she’s a hockey fan by the way her eyes light up when she recognizes who he is.
“I’ve been meaning to ask if you can pick them up from the airport?” He asks, catching you off guard. “Their plane lands around noon and I won’t be back until later that night and I don’t really want them to have to take a cab.”
You’re a little surprised that he’s asking you to do this instead of paying someone or asking a close friend to do it instead. It’s an odd feeling, realizing that he trusts you with his family.
“Yeah, I’d love to.” You tell him and his smile warms you to the bone.
. . .
You show up to the airport forty-five minutes early because you can’t decide if you should wait in the SUV for Matt’s family, or meet them in the airport. Would it be weird to wait for them inside like you would with your own friends or family? You double check your phone to make sure that Matt did tell them it was you picking them up because how weird would it be if they were expecting him only to find you waiting.
You’re definitely over thinking it but you find yourself standing at the gates when their plane lands.
Chantal is the first person you see and her face lights up and she scurries over to you, pulling you in for a soft hug.
“Oh, look at you!” She gushes, taking your hands in hers and holding you at arms length. “You’re glowing.”
Glowing isn’t exactly the word you would use because as much as you tried to look nice to pick them up, you’re still seven months pregnant, sweating because of the jacket you have on and most definitely are wearing odd shoes because you can no longer see your feet and Matt wasn’t here to check for you.
But you blush nonetheless, letting Keith, Taryn, and Brady hug you before starting to walk to baggage claim.
“Thank you for picking us up.” Chantal says and you smile.
“It’s nothing,” you say, brushing it off. “You’ve done a lot for me.”
“Anything I can do to help. I know how hard it is being pregnant with your man travelling a lot.”
You want to correct her when she calls Matt your man, but you don’t want to be impolite so you just nod.
“Speaking of your man,” Brady says in a teasing voice, “what time does he get in, again?”
“Around 8.” You say, ignoring the teasing tone and changing the subject to ask Taryn how school is going. You know you’ll hear more comments about the nature of your relationship with Matt from his brother but for now, you chat with Taryn and Chantal about plans for the baby.
. . .
Matt gave you a key to his apartment when you both realized that you spent more time at his these days then you did at your own so you don’t miss the knowing looks Chantal and Keith share when you use your key to unlock Matt’s apartment. You know they can tell it’s your key and not Matt’s because he painted it your favourite colour when he gave it to you.
“So do we get a sneak peak of the nursery?” Taryn asks hopefully and you nod, gesturing for her to follow you. Matt turned one of the guest rooms in to the nursery in his apartment. You haven’t done anything with yours yet because you and Matt were starting to wonder if after the baby is born, at least for a little while, the two of you should just live together. It would certainly make things much easier.
“It’s beautiful.” Chantal says, and you can see her eyes watering a little.
“We’re going to put up letters spelling his name above the crib.”
“Oh yeah, have you guys decided on a name yet?” Keith asks, testing the sturdiness of the crib by wiggling it a little.
“No.” You mutter. “We can’t agree on anything.”
“You’ll find something you both love eventually.” Chantal reassures you. “Now, please tell me my son has food in his fridge, because I’m going to cook dinner.”
You grin, realizing that she too knows how bad Matt is at keeping his fridge stocked. Before you started spending so much time here, you would be lucky if he had eggs in the fridge.
. . .
Matt arrives home just as dinner is cooked and you get to witness what a typical Tkachuk night must look like. There’s lots of chirps thrown but you can tell how close this family is and how much they care about each other. Especially when it comes to Matt and his mom and sister. He treats them like gold and it warms your heart to see it.
After dinner, you volunteer to clean up and you’re surprised when Keith offers to help. You’ve only spoken to him a few times before today and you don’t feel as close to him as you do with Chantal so it’s quiet while the two of you clear up the dishes.
Keith breaks the silence after a couple minutes, turning to look at you.
“I know Matthew can be a handful… but don’t give up on him, okay?”
You’re surprised to hear this coming from Keith because you were truthfully expecting Taryn or Brady to say something about it. Every time you and Matthew touched or spoke to each other, you noticed the knowing looks and soft smiles from the other Tkachuk family members.
It was like they knew something that neither you nor Matthew did.
You’re not sure what exactly to say so you just nod.
“I won’t.” You promise, realizing that you truly mean it.
#matthew tkachuk imagine#matthew tkachuk fanfiction#matthew tkachuk#nhl imagine#nhl imagines#nhl fanfiction#hockey fanfiction#calgary flames imagines#calgary flames fanficton#allies writing
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Three Days ~ 32
Catch up on AO3
~*~Sebastian~*~
The train was pretty crowded with people commuting into the city. I can't imagine spending three hours going back and forth to work every day. But right now, I thought an hour and a half with headphones sounded ideal. Processing didn't feel like the right word. I usually think of processing as something you do to deal with a negative or incorporate some insight you just had. Emma certainly wasn't a negative. But I guess process is the right word. A lot had happened in the last four days.
About fifteen minutes out of town my text alert went off. Emma sent me a picture of her in her classroom in front of a bunch of words. I doubt her pointing at baby, boy, and blue was
accidental. I sent back the first thought that came to my mind, "Damn."
Next thing I knew I was at my station. I had not processed shit. I'd sat staring at her picture while my music played. Maybe that was processing?
I ducked into a shop to buy a bottle of water before hitting the gym. I was the last to arrive. I was going to get shit for this.
"Mr. Stan, glad you could join us."
Len looked at Don," Leave him alone. He slept in."
"I've been up since five-thirty, but thanks for the support." I dropped my bag close to the wall, "Got a train back from Beacon at seven."
Jackson crinkled up his face, "What's in Beacon?"
"Parents moved there. I was helping them unpack."
I must have smiled or something because Brad jumped on me, "I don't think that’s all you were doing."
I could feel my cheeks turning red. I joined them stretching out. "I did meet a woman"
There was a chorus of, "Oh yeah", from the four other men.
"Don't be like that," I admonished. "I haven't had a real date in forever."
George laughed, "We know. You'd given up."
I laughed too. I'd forgotten about that conversation. It had been George's twentieth anniversary and I'd commented I'd given up getting a date, forget about getting married. "I guess I was too hasty with giving up."
Len put his hands behind his head and thrust his hips, "If you're rusty and need some tips just let me know."
I covered my eyes with my hands, "Thanks, but I’m doing fine."
Hours later I walked into my apartment. Fuck, was I tired. Hadn't gotten much sleep the last couple of days. I smiled thinking about why. Checking out the picture on my phone again, I headed upstairs to shower. I wanted her face. I asked for a closer picture, put my phone on the charger, and hit the shower. Still wet, I fell face down on my bed and was out, not waking up until my manager called. We were going to have dinner tonight. I hung up and I saw I had a text. I closed my eyes and said, “Please."
The look on Emma's face in the picture was sweet with a touch of sexy. Her smile showed off her single dimple, but the slight quirk of her lip was like she had a secret. If I kept thinking about that I was going to get hard.
I was surprised when she responded to my text. It was a short conversation. I like how she'd brought up skipping past the when is it ok to call or text part. I suck at that shit. I think everyone does except assholes who like games. I don't have the time or inclination to figure out if I’ve waited long enough to contact someone. What happens is I'm waiting for the appropriate time, something happens, and I’m outside the window. Which, oddly enough, is exactly what happened with me trying to kiss Emma.
While I say I suck at this shit, I don't suck at all of it. Honestly, I'm a good date. I'm attentive and can be romantic. I like romance. I like how Emma and I started. The touching and talking were refreshing. It was like time stopped. There was nothing but she and I getting to know each other. I know that's not completely true. There were bumps and anxious moments, but that's part of it, part of life. I like how I felt as we maneuvered the bumps. I didn't feel alone. Feeling anxious feels alone. It feels like stuck in your head and you don't want to let the thoughts turn into words because it makes it real. If you don't say it out loud it’s not real. Good and bad with that. If it's not real, it's not real, but if you don't say it out loud no one can help. That’s a double-edged sword too. People think they're helping when they flood you with reasons you shouldn't feel how you do. If only anxiety disappeared with logic. Some people understand, some even know how to help. Then some people use it against you. I’ve known all three types. Even fell in love with the worst type.
The point of all that is to say Emma made it better. Without a pause she did the thing, said the thing, to make it better. By itself, not such a big deal, but when you combine it with everything else. She's smart, beautiful, fun, articulate, kind, sexy, and she makes me feel good. I feel like I've hit some kind of fucking jackpot.
There is an assumption that being famous is a sex buffet. Yes and no. Do you get offered anything you want and a few things you don't? Yes. I got talked into going with several of the Marvel guys to Vegas. I'd heard the stories. There were places one could have no strings sex and little to no risk of anyone talking. I'm not talking about brothels. I mean clubs frequented by locals who knew how to keep secrets. More than one of the guys had "usuals". There is money involved, but it's for discretion, not sex. Yeah, I know. I don't see the difference either. I went, but wound up out of my mind drunk with the faithfully married men. Wasn’t for me. Honestly, I got laid much more in college and the early years. Because once people knew who I was and the offers started I never knew if they wanted me, a story, a name crossed off their "to do" list, a photo op, or were a gold digger. Not that I had any money back then. When you’re shooting somewhere you're not running around fucking locals because you’re busy. And tired. I get up about two hours before call time, so I'm a human being before I get to set. What I'm saying is it's complicated and not easy. A buffet would be easy.
I'm more of a serial monogamist. I like relationships. I like being part of a couple. There are dry spells. There are dates with sex. And there are dry spells. Most recently there's been a friend with benefits.
She picked today to call. After the texts with Emma, but before dinner with my manager. We haven't seen each other in, I don't remember exactly, three or four months. It's been a while. Dry spell. Thankfully, this arrangement was not complicated so when I told her I was seeing someone she was happy for me.
The dinner meeting with my manager, Emily, went well. I stayed focused despite the little
part of my brain that stayed acutely aware of the time. Volleyball practice was over at nine. Theoretically. It’s a bar league and timing might be loose. She has work in the morning. Probably won't be too late. I should probably stop thinking. If she can't talk she won't answer. Just like all day today when we texted when we could. You know, like functional adults.
Sebastian ~ You home?
Emma ~ Yep
I hit call and waited to hear her voice. "No, no, no."
Click.
Not what I was expecting. I pulled my phone away from my ear and looked at it like it was a foreign object. FaceTime popped up. Oh, okay. I answered and her face filled my screen, "Hey."
Emma smiled, "I'd much rather see you than only hear you."
"This is better." Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she was without makeup. She looked like the day we met. "You're beautiful."
"Thank you." She laid her head to the side and shrugged her shoulders, "Why'd you think I wanted FaceTime?"
I pulled my eyebrows down and pursed my lips, "So I could tell you I think you're beautiful?"
Emma shook her head with a grin, "Because I wanted to see your handsome face."
"Thank you." I inclined my head slightly. "How was practice?"
"Brutal." She laughed. "Sand absolutely everywhere. I miss gym floors and shoes. A lot of drills and some three on three."
"Keep going." I liked listening to her talk. She went into more detail while I listened and watched her facial expressions. She was animated with small movements that brought her words to life. I was especially aware of the quirk of her mouth. I was missing her hands and how they talked as much as her words.
"And how was your morning at the gym?"
I raised a hand, palm up, "Didn't you see my Instagram post?"
"As a matter of fact, I did." I had posted a picture of the group with me lying face down. "You looked tired."
"It was a heavy weight day." I entertained her with some of the day’s antics. The comradery made it less exhausting. We worked hard and we laughed often. "I took a nap before dinner with Emily."
"How'd that go?"
"Good." I nodded. "We've worked together for over twenty years now. I start filming in Rome end of July."
"That will be warm."
"Yeah, it will be. June will be the longest I've been home for a long time."
"Lucky for me."
"When's school out?" I was making plans. Pretty global and unstructured, but plan.
"We have through next week to finish up with work. Then it's fun and games. Celebrations of art and music to show off the projects we've worked on but haven’t sent home. Then there’s a day of outside athletic stuff. Relays, three-legged races, carrying eggs, tug of war. All sorts of things to celebrate sending our fifth graders away and the others flying up a grade. All three weeks away. School ends on Wednesday. Closing ceremony for staff Thursday. Then Friday I am going home to Alpharetta for a few days. then back to do some curriculum work."
"I thought it was summers off." I was a little disappointed. I, like many, assumed teachers were really off during the summer. This wasn’t working with my as yet unmade plans.
"Depends on what’s going on. The last winter we had so many kids out with flu and an ice storm closed school. We decided we wanted to have options like video lessons on YouTube or Google Classroom. Right before school started, we got our curriculum cleaned up. Figuring out what are the necessary things we need to make sure we teach. Then over the school year we've been recording lessons. After faculty meetings, we’ve spent time organizing them. This summer we just have to finalize and work with IT do develop the web site."
"Wow, sounds like a huge undertaking."
"It has been, but it will be so helpful if a student is out for them to be able to see the lesson that goes along with their makeup work."
"Are all the grades doing this?"
"Eventually. First and third did this year. We’ll help them to learn from our mistakes."
I got an idea, "Does that mean I can watch videos of you teaching?"
She laughed, "If I enroll you in my class. You'd want to watch that?"
"Maybe. I mean you like watching me do my job."
"Ah, Sebastian. Leveraging a movie to be able to see me teach.”
"I'm not going to promise I'll be in class every day. Never was. But I'd like to see what you do? Someday you'll go on set with me and see how boring most of it is." What did I just say? I’m not shooting anything for almost two months. How very optimistic of me.
"Well, there's an offer I can't refuse."
Good answer. "I've got a photo shoot in a couple of weeks. I think it’s the same week you're going home."
"Ooo, where are you going?" Her face lit up with excitement.
"Toronto. It's promo stuff for the film festival."
"I feel like I should know what you have showing there."
I wanted to reach out and wipe away the annoyed curve of her lips. There was no way she could know unless she was poking around the internet. I liked that she wasn't. "I'll catch you up. It’s a love triangle kind of thing. I'm the bad choice." I told her about filming, how much was improv, and the basic plot. She asked questions to clarify and I enjoyed explaining. I never felt like I was being interviewed. Emma wanted to learn about me.
With the conversation, I'd lost track of time. Again. When I glanced at the clock it was much later than I'd thought. I ran my fingers through my hair, "It's like our first date all over again. Talking for hours."
She smiled, "Its a theme for us. I hate to, but I need to go to bed."
"Believe it or not I’d planned on watching the time, so we could both get some sleep. I, at least, took to a nap." We shared a smile, "I'll talk to you tomorrow."
"OK. Good night, Sebastian."
"Night, Emma" She disappeared from my screen and I wasn't very happy. I wanted to keep talking, to keep seeing her expressions. Her green eyes weren't as vibrant on FaceTime, but my memory could fill in the details.
Wednesday was text free and my phone rang at three-thirty. "The children were horrible today."
The exasperated look on her face made me smile, "Could it be their teacher was extra tired today?"
She huffed out a breath, "It’s possible.” Her lips turned to a smile, "Wouldn't change a thing."
"What do horrible children do?"
"Tommy used his folders as frisbees. Annabelle and Brooklyn gave each other tattoos during recess with Sharpies. No one could sit still for lessons or story time. And finally, Marta threw up all over the table and we had to evacuate the room until the custodian got it cleaned up. Room smelled like vomit and Glade the rest of the day."
I had been cringing since the tattoos. "Sorry about the definitely bad day."
Emma nodded, "What did you do today?"
Not much. "Um, long run this morning. Lighter weights today. More core and flexibility. Picked up some Thai food on the way home. Took a shower. Then I started reading a book on female spy units. You called. Now, I’m mostly trying to figure out a way to climb through the internet so I can kiss you. We've still got some catching up to do.”
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