#who knew that I would be obsessed with him 16 years later... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

anna-hawk · 2 months

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Dexterity

Frank Castle x F!Reader

Summary: You're having some quality time on your own when Frank pays you an unexpected visit.

Explicit 🔞 • WC: 4,1k

Tags and warnings: masturbation, finger fucking, teasing, praise kink, hand & finger kink, dirty talk

Always time for Coffee series

⚠️ If you follow me on AO3, this is NOT a new fic! ⚠️

A/N: This month will mark five years since I posted my very first Frank x Reader fic. I made a small post for the series a few years back, but never a dedicated one for the first ever fic. After the news and pics of getting Frank back today, even if it's only for a small role, I was thinking back to the time I got first inspired to write and actually post something for once. It's been quite the journey since then and this series has now 16 parts, but most importantly, this fic played a big part in me joining the beautiful fandom that I've been a part of these past 4 years and getting me to meet incredible people. So I figured, let's be nostalgic and officially post it on here too.

Ever since meeting Frank Castle, you’ve been obsessed with his hands.

You know they have killed numerous people and could do cruel things to the ones deserving it, but you also know how kind and gentle they can be. When he would come to your shop as Pete, you’d seen how he would talk to one of your employees' kid, the boy having always had a short fuse, and manage to calm the boy down by simply putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. The couple of times when he’d handled the fragile elements of your ice cream maker while repairing it with those deft hands had also shown how gentle they could be.

Yeah, you really have a thing for his hands and the guy himself.

The first time you'd met him, you'd met Pete Castiglione the construction worker, who’d been visiting your Café for the first time. You had followed the whole Punisher debacle on TV and had been very intrigued by the man’s story. Yet even though you'd thought that Pete looked familiar, it had taken you a few weeks of him coming in every other day and helping you out with an electrical problem, to realize who had actually been hiding under all this wild hair and beard. That had been the first time you had come into contact with his hands, too. He had taken off his baseball cap, looked at you to ask where the problem was while standing really close to you, and something in his expression had finally made it click inside you. You'd breathed out, “Frank Castle,” in stunned realization a moment later. In the next second, he'd had you by your throat and against the opposite wall, asking who’d sent you. You had been so startled that you’d just started laughing at the absurdity of you being able to hurt him. Okay, so maybe not really laughed as much as choked, since he’d had his fingers squeezing rather hard around your windpipe. But you'd managed to wheeze out your thoughts, and he'd released you enough for you to tell him why and how you had recognized him. He’d deemed you trustworthy enough, apparently, because he'd let go of you and apologized for overreacting.

You had promised him that you would never tell anyone about him that same evening.

As weeks passed, and he’d still come by your Café, you'd managed to build a rather close friendship. After a while, though, you'd noticed that he was coming by less and less until he stopped coming altogether, making you worried. Finally, after the day everyone had found out that Frank Castle was still alive through live TV, he'd come to your shop when you were closing. You had been even more scared for him since the news and beyond relieved to see him unscathed. You had been touched to learn that he’d wanted to make sure that no one had found out that you knew about him and come to hurt you to get to him. He'd also told you that he would have to lie low for a while. You'd suggested that he should come to your place and hide there. He had declined, too worried about what could happen to you. Still, as you'd accepted his concern, you'd told him that he could come to yours whenever he needed to, no matter the time of the day or the night. You had never been more glad about giving him your address because weeks later, he had come to hide for the night and had done so several nights until the whole thing with Billy Russo had been over.

Nowadays, he still shows up every now and again. Mostly nights because he has some business to take care of, or just to say hi. You both grab a drink (mostly coffee) and chat. You enjoy his company a lot. Okay, more than a lot. You’ve had a thing for the Punisher even before meeting Frank, but since knowing the man himself, you couldn’t help being attracted to Frank and his beautiful large hands and agile fingers. Among other things. You don't know where he stands with romantic or even only physical relationships considering his past, but you do kind of flirt with one another. You know that Frank likes you a lot; otherwise he wouldn’t come to see you regularly. But even if you want him, badly, you feel that it’s more like bantering to him and nothing more.

That doesn’t stop you from dreaming or fantasizing about him and the filthy things that you’d love him to do to you or you to him, though. And that's actually exactly what you’re doing right now. You’re lying on your bed, the sheets tangled around your legs, one hand inside your sleeping shorts while your breaths come harder and faster. You’ve been teasing yourself for what feels like an hour, fingers alternating between circling your clit languidly and pushing three deep into you to mimic the size of two of his, getting yourself closer and closer to one spectacular orgasm. You’ve got your eyes closed, face flushed, bottom lip between your teeth, while your middle finger is rubbing faster and faster over your slippery clit. Harsh breaths leave you as you picture Frank spreading you wide with his fingers and whispering dirty nothings into your ear. You’re right there, on the brink, ready to fall, when there’s a resounding knock at your door.

You yelp in surprise and flinch so hard that you nearly hit yourself in the face with how fast you remove your hand from between your legs. You’re trying to get your bearings back, your body still trembling from being strung high for so long and not getting what it wants, when there is another knock. You groan in frustration and get up on wobbly legs to go check on who wants to see you so badly at that time of night. You look through the peephole and gasp when you see Frank’s face. He'd been here only last week, and he usually shows up only once a month at best, so you’re completely thrown when you open your door to the smirking man.

“Hey, Sweetheart,” he greets in his signature gruff and deep voice, upper body pressed lazily against the door jamb.

He’s looking calm and carrying no signs of a recent fight. Meaning that this isn’t an emergency call. Good. He’s wearing dark jeans and a charcoal Henley with his usual combat boots, three days worth of stubble on his face. He looks mouthwatering, and you valiantly try not to let anything show on your face.

“Was in the neighborhood visitin' Curtis and thought I could come check on you too. Sorry it’s so late,” he continues, confirming your earlier thoughts on there being no immediate danger.

“You’ve come by way later, Frank,” you remind him with a snort and motion for him to follow you inside.

You notice that your voice came out a bit strained, and hope that he doesn’t see how your knees are still shaking after the near orgasm and the effect his unexpected presence has on you. Well, turns out that you’re out of luck.

“You okay there?” He asks, as he follows you into the kitchen.

You groan inside, of course he noticed. You still try to play it off.

“What? Of course, I’m okay.” You hate how your laugh sounds off. You’re usually better at faking stuff like that.

“Yeah?” he says, coming to stand right before you to give you a once over. “'cause you’re all flushed and breathin' kinda hard.” He even lifts one hand to feel your temperature, but you dodge it and turn to the sink, reaching over it to get two coffee mugs out of a cupboard. Anything to avoid him see you blush even more.

“I’m fine, Frank, don’t worry… Coffee?” You desperately hope that he’s going to let it go. You need to put yourself back together and slow your breathing.

“Can never refuse your coffee.”

You breathe a small sigh of relief when he seems to accept your answer and smile at how fond he sounds of your coffee making skills. You’re about to reach for the coffee beans when he says, “Seriously, though, am I makin' you this nervous or what's goin' on?”

You put your hands back down and groan in defeat, hanging your head.

“Could you just let it go, Frank? Please?”

He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, and you don’t turn around to look at him while you wait.

“Did I interrupt somethin'?” He finally says, amusement clear in his voice. Damn him and his perceptiveness.

You hide your face in your hands and whimper in embarrassment.

“Oh God, just shut up, Frank!” Your voice is muffled by your hands. He barks out a laugh, making you lower your hands again. “You’re such a jerk.”

“Hey, hey, `s okay Sweetheart, there’s nothin' to be embarrassed about,” he tells you gently, though you can tell that he’s still grinning, the bastard.

“Yes well…” You still refuse to turn around, even though you can hear him move closer behind you.

“'could always show me, y'know,” he says, and even though the words hit you to the core because the thought alone sends a new wave of deep arousal through you, you can’t place his tone.

That's why you do the only thing that comes to mind and gasp, turning around to backhand him in the chest and play into the joke.

“Oh, fuck you, asshole.”

You meet his eyes and see that there’s something there, lying just under the teasing glint. You suck in a breath, holding it in, while your heart beats a nervous tattoo against your rib cage.

“Or… I could help 'course,” he finally says, voice low, after what feels like minutes and not seconds, his piercing eyes never leaving yours.

You stare at him, still barely daring to breathe. The idea of him helping you out nearly sends you to your knees. Eventually, you exhale in a snort because come on, he doesn’t mean it, and go back to facing the counter, taking the coffee beans out of the cupboard.

“Yeah, right… Let’s get back to that coffee, yeah?” Bonus points for sounding offhand.

You hear him taking another step and then see his hands coming to rest on the counter, one on each side of you, effectively caging you in. His voice is a rough whisper against your left ear, making you gasp.

“Is that a no?”

Your hands, now inches apart from Frank’s, are gripping the marble beneath them, hard. You close your eyes and swallow.

“Don’t play games with me, Frank.” Your voice goes deeper and colder in warning. You might not expect anything romantic-wise from him, but you won’t be made a fool of.

“‘m not playin', Baby.”

To confirm his words, he glides his nose along your nape and bites you lightly on the juncture between neck and shoulder.

You moan, all need. That nickname. He's never used it before, but it does something to you. Babe you’ve never liked. But Baby? The way Frank says it, just gets to you. You incline your head to the side, a silent surrender, and feel him grin against your skin. Your eyes are closed so that you don’t see his right hand leave the counter, but feel it settle on your hip and slowly glide down your thigh to the hem of your shorts. To your dismay, his mouth leaves your neck.

“Spread your legs for me, Sweetheart,” he rumbles into your ear.

You oblige instantly, parting your legs and leaning slightly forward to accommodate him. Frank hums in approval. You can feel his fingers on your skin now, just beneath the hem of your shorts, slowly making their way under your right butt cheek and to your center, the touch light and measured. How is it that he's barely touching you and making your breathing speed up again? You try to relax your hands because you’re still gripping the hard kitchen surface like crazy; anything to anchor you. But Frank chooses that moment to push the short’s to the side, hooking it between your ass cheeks and the left side of your outer lips, to grant him easier access. One large finger slides through your still wet folds. One lazy pass through your slit and up to your clit, and your hands lock into place again, a harsh gasp leaving your mouth.

“Shit, already so fuckin’ wet, huh? Guess I did interrupt somethin' good.”

You say nothing, you can’t right now.

Frank keeps up his slow and torturous pace, sometimes staying over your clit and circling it with a featherlight touch that has you nearly screaming in frustration. You try to get a bit more pressure by pushing down on his finger every time he does this, but he just goes back to teasing your slit. Your arms are trembling from the strain, and you murmur a nearly silent plea for more. He seems to hear you though because he chuckles kindly and applies enough pressure for you to moan in satisfaction for a few seconds, before he stops again, too soon. When you fantasize about him, you usually picture him as the teasing kind of lover, but your imagination could never have reached this level.

“Tell me… What you been thinkin' about earlier?”

You’re kind of put out to hear that his voice is still steady, so you decide on the truth. In for a penny and all that.

“You,” you breathe softly.

His movements stop, and you’re satisfied with his reaction, when you realize that you might have overshared. His hand is moving again a moment later, and he growls deep in his throat. He presses his chest to your back, left hand coming up from the counter to grab your jaw and pull it to the side to press biting kisses into your neck and shoulder, making you keen.

“Me, huh? Fuck, now I really want ya to show me sometime…,” he pants roughly into your neck, index finger rubbing tighter and harder over you. “And what was I doin’?”

You have to concentrate to answer him, the pressure on your clit so delicious now. Your voice ends up breaking on each word.

“Something… like… that…”

“Something?”

“Finger-fucking… me.”

He inhales sharply, and you feel him adjust his position behind you, his clothed erection brushing against your ass for a second.

“Something like that?”

Two of his large fingers plunge deep into you, filling you to the brim. You cry out in bliss and go up on your tiptoes for a second as your body rises. Your back bows backward, resulting in your head coming to rest on his shoulder, while your eyes close, and you catch your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Fuck, you feel so good for me, Baby,” he groans into your temple. He withdraws slightly before pushing back all the way in, setting a steady rhythm as the way his name keeps falling from your lips keeps him going.

The hand on your jaw slackens after a while and travels down your neck, over your collarbone and a covered nipple. He’s stroking down your belly and to the junction of your thighs before he finally stops directly over your clit. He rolls it between index and thumb with just the right amount of too much and not enough pressure, or flicks quickly over it repeatedly to keep you on your toes and not know what to expect next. The rhythm of his two hands are completely different. Where his left hand is teasing you slowly but mercilessly, his right hand still has two fingers fucking you fast and deep, making you whimper brokenly. His fingers feel absolutely incredible, yet you know that it’s to keep you on the edge of release. You love and hate it at the same time. The dual sensation has you removing your head from his shoulder to take your weight with your hands on the counter again, leaning forward a bit more to push your ass out and give him even better access.

Frank grunts his approval and keeps up the pace. You feel him resting his forehead on the nape of your neck.

“Holy shit, girl, look at ya takin' my fingers so perfectly,” he says gruffly. You squeeze down on said fingers at the praise, resulting in a groan of appreciation from him.

Eventually, no matter how long he’d intended to keep you on the brink, you’ve been strung so high for so long, that your orgasm is building inexorably, your body ready to crash back down again. His continuous praise is speeding it up as well. Your legs start to shake and a light sheen of sweat is covering your skin. Your harsh breaths are intermingled with moans and gasps of please mores and yesyesyes.

“Frank, please,” you beg one last time. “Please!”

“I gotcha, Sweetheart,” Frank answers finally and starts upping his pace on your clit.

“Yes!” you hiss, elated.

But Frank is apparently not completely done with you because he removes his two fingers from inside you, only to push back but with a third one, this time. You can only cry out in surprise and deep pleasure as he gives you half a second to adjust, before he starts an intense rhythm again. You’ve never felt this full with only fingers, and you can now feel as your release starts curling hotter and tighter in your belly.

“F-f-f-frank, I’m so, so close,” you manage to breathe out.

Frank keeps a litany of words spilling out of his mouth against your neck, “So fuckin' perfect for me” and, “Takin' me so beautifully”.

Suddenly, you're right there again, just like before, ready to take the leap. You feel the shivers running through your whole body and centering where Frank is rubbing tighter and tighter circles. Frank lifts his head from yours and growls deeply into your ear. “Now come for me, Baby. Come on my fingers.”

“Oh fuck, Frank!” You mewl, high-pitched, and that’s it. Everything in you snaps at his words. The intensity of this so long to come orgasm hits you like a freight train driven by Frank Castle. Your body curves back against his, your head back on his shoulder, facing his neck. Your hold on the kitchen worktop becomes deadly again after having slackened somewhat, and you cry out in pure, unadulterated bliss. You dimly feel Frank stopping the fingers inside you and taking them out to circle your waist and push you even more back against him. His focus is on his left hand, index finger still stroking your bud with intense precision, prolonging your release.

As you’re slowly coming down, your body begins to tremble and Frank tightens his hold on you to prevent your knees from giving out on you. You finally release the worktop, fingers a bit stiff, and put them over Frank’s arm to hold on to. His finger hasn’t stop working you, though, and while it’s sending you nice aftershocks, which have you jerking and gasping against him, you finally reach down with one hand to grab his wrist to stop his movements and rest it against your waist with the other.

“Too much,” you mumble into his throat.

You stand like that for a while, both not saying anything while you try to get your breathing back under control. As the seconds trickle by, and you process the last fifteen minutes, you can’t help the laugh that bubbles up and escapes your lips.

“What?” Frank asks, and you can hear the amusement in his voice.

“That was so not what I was expecting from your visit… Not that I mind, of course,” you grin, all relaxed limbs and all.

Frank chuckles, “‘m a man full of surprises.”

You reach down to tug at your shorts and make yourself presentable again, and snicker.

“That you are,” you say and turn around in his arms to look at him, your hands coming to rest on his strong chest.

Your heart misses a beat when you see his face. He’s a bit flushed, and he’s still breathing rather deeply, but it’s his eyes that capture your full attention. They are still dark with arousal, the gaze intense and fixed on yours. Frank’s lips break out in a smirk as he catches you staring. You swallow and clear your throat as you finally take in the hard outline of his dick against your body. You’re about to open your mouth to inquire about it, but he beats you to it.

“Don’ worry ‘bout it, Sweetheart.”

“But-”

“‘m good,” he cuts in again, kissing your temple to take the sting out of his rebuttal before letting go of you.

You stay quiet and lean back against the counter as you nod vaguely. Frank takes a few steps backwards away from you, one hand coming up to rake through his hair and down his neck in a nervous gesture. He doesn’t look at you, so you decide to break the silence. You’re still floating on your high a bit and don’t want things to get uncomfortable between you two.

“So… coffee?”

You see him take a small breath and look back at you with a smile. His eyes are kind but unreadable, like they so often are when he’s thinking about something.

“Yeah, I’d like that, thanks.”

You smile and get back to grab the things you need, Frank going to sit on the couch. The silence is only broken by the coffee grinder for a small while. Your apartment is one large space with an open kitchen that gives on a big living area. A comfortable couch and a coffee table, that are framed by two armchairs, face a flat screen TV and huge floor to ceiling windows. Your bedroom with en suite bathroom is on the opposite side from the kitchen. You adore this place. From where you’re preparing the two mugs, you only have to turn your head to the left to see Frank sitting on the couch, arms thrown over the back of it, legs spread wide. He stares unblinkingly at the darkness and buildings outside your windows. You bite your lip and sigh softly. Once you’re done, one mug with strong dark coffee for Frank in one hand and in the other one with decaf because you definitely don’t need any more excitement tonight, you make your way over to him.

You walk around the back of the couch to sit at the opposite end, your back resting against the armrest. You extend your hand with Frank’s mug toward him. He blinks down at it for a second before taking the mug. He turns his upper body to face you, and you relax a little more at the half smile, half smirk that he usually wears and that he gives you now.

“Thanks,” he says gratefully and hums in pleasure when he takes his first sip.

“Anytime,” you chuckle warmly. You had been proud to find out that Frank had initially come to your Café because he had heard people talking about the quality of your coffee.

You sit there without saying anything, but this time it’s a comfortable silence, both savoring your drinks.

“So how’s Curtis?” You inquire after several long minutes.

It’s an honest question, but you also want to show Frank that you can still talk like you used to. You’ve never met Curtis, but you’ve heard a lot about him and how he has always been there for Frank. That alone means a lot in your book. You end up talking for a small amount of time, conversation becoming easier, before Frank decides to bid you goodnight. You walk him back to the door, and he envelops you in a hug that you hadn’t been expecting at this point. He kisses you on a temple like he often does, making you smile into his neck fondly before returning the kiss but on one cheek instead.

“Take care,” he rasps into your ear, before letting go of you and opening the door.

“Be careful,” you counter with raised eyebrows and a meaningful look.

Frank chuckles and nods. “I'll see what I can do.”

He walks off to the elevator, which opens for him immediately when he pushes the call button, and steps inside. He lifts a hand in a wave as the doors slide closed in front of him, and then he’s gone.

You close your door and lean against it, heaving a heavy sigh. You don’t really know what to feel right now. You’ve just had one of the most memorable orgasms of your life, but still don’t know where you stand with Frank. If you go back to how things were before tonight, that’s fine with you. You’re kind of afraid that you might have scared him off, but the way he behaved before leaving makes you feel confident enough that you haven’t. The ball is definitely in Frank’s court now. You would have to wait and see.

#frank castle x reader #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle #reader insert #the punisher #mes fics #always time for coffee series #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle smut #the punisher fanfiction

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illdowhatiwantthanks · 25 days

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The Avocado & The Turnip (The Surprise, Part 8)

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: established relationship, pregnancy times, fluffy fluff, kind of hurt/comfort (?), mentions of some pretty horrific crimes (duh), gunshot wound, some explicit language Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: A series of hard cases puts a strain on your relationship with Emily. Anxieties run high on both sides, and the reality of Emily's job–and the risks the come with it–feel even more real than usual now that there's going to be a child in the picture.

Week 16: The Avocado

“I just don’t know what to say to him,” Emily exclaimed, resting her chin on your stomach, a worried look on her face.

Your plans for an adorable evening of talking to the baby had backfired. For unknown reasons, Emily had come home in a bad mood, anxious and on edge. Somehow, the news that the baby could likely hear you now had only made her more anxious.

“You can say anything, Em. She’s the size of an avocado. She’s not gonna remember what we say; she’s gonna remember our voices.”

You ran your fingers through Emily’s hair, trying your best to alleviate some of her stress. You’d meant for this to be good news, to be a fun, cute little moment she could have with you and the baby after a brutal day at work.

“Tell her about your day,” you suggested.

Emily glared at you, and you felt yourself shrink. “I can’t tell him about my day!” she yelled, her voice angry. “What am I supposed to say? Hey, little man! I have to leave you tomorrow to go find a guy who’s murdering teenage boys by ripping their throats out with his teeth and then eating them. But don’t worry, I’ve only had to deal with, oh, ten or so cannibals over the years. The chances of you being cannibalized are slim. Never zero though!”

In your head, you knew that Emily’s outburst had nothing to do with you, nothing to do with the baby, and everything to do with the horrendous things she saw at work. She tried very hard not to bring work home with her, not to carry the weight of the horrors she saw every day into your house. But sometimes they stuck to her. Sometimes they dragged her down, and she couldn’t quite shake them. But it wasn’t often that she was mean. She hardly ever raised her voice at you. She knew it scared you.

You sat up and placed a hand protectively over your stomach, trying to keep your face set, impassive, but flinching a little as Emily moved toward you.

She was instantly full of regret. Her face fell as she noticed that your posture had changed from open to defensive, noticed the way your eyes had glazed over–a remnant of trauma.

“Oh, honey, I’m sorry,” she breathed, cupping your cheek. “I’m so sorry.”

You softened when you saw that she was close to crying–a rarity for Emily–and pulled her head to your chest, pressing kisses to the top of her head.

“I’m sorry, baby,” she mumbled against you. “It was just a hard day.”

“Tell me about it.”

“What?” she asked, lifting her head a bit.

“Tell me,” you insisted. “I can handle it. You’re my wife. You had a bad day. I want to hear about it.”

Emily shook her head, her voice so quiet you almost couldn’t hear. “No, you don’t.”

“Hey,” you said, tilting her chin so she was looking in your eyes. “I can decide what’s too much for me, okay?” You rubbed your thumb back and forth along her cheek. “If I say I can handle it, I need you to believe me.”

Emily sighed, exhaling shakily. “You remember after we started dating?” she explained, her voice low. “And I had a really hard time at work because every victim who was a woman made me think of you?”

“I remember,” you answered. And you did. If there had ever been a time in your relationship when you would’ve broken up with Emily, that would have been it. She’d been angry, on edge, paranoid, and even more obsessive about work than usual. It had eventually gotten so bad that you’d given her an ultimatum–start going to therapy or this isn’t going to work. Nearly six years later, Emily still had a biweekly standing appointment with her therapist–unless, of course, she was in the field.

She played with your fingers, quiet for a moment. “It feels like that all over again, but with kids. Child victims are hard anyway, but… every tiny body I see, I just think of him and–” Her voice broke, and you held her a little tighter. “It scares the shit out of me.”

“Of course it does,” you assured her. “That just means you love her, baby. It means you’re gonna be a great mom. It makes sense that those cases hit closer to home right now.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to take it out on you. Or him.”

You exhaled slowly, kissing the top of her head again. “When was your last appointment with Angie?”

Emily sat up, stretching, and shrugged, looking guilty. “Last month, maybe? I just–I’ve been out on cases and…”

“I know, baby,” you said, taking her hands in yours before she could start biting her nails. “It’s okay. But, maybe you should call her and see if she can get you in. Even tonight, you know? Before you leave tomorrow. She does telehealth, doesn’t she?”

Emily nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”

She still looked guilty and nervous. It broke your heart.

“Come here,” you said, tugging her onto your lap. She wrapped her arms and legs around you and hugged you like you were the only thing keeping her tethered to this world. And for your part–you held on like you’d never, ever let her go–and you never, ever would.

Week 17: The Turnip

“She what!?” you yelled into the phone, launching yourself off the couch and scrounging around in the junk drawer for your keys.

“Calm down, mama,” Derek soothed through the phone. “It’s just a surface wound. The bullet grazed her shoulder, that’s all.”

“That’s all!? My wife gets shot, and you’re telling me that’s all!?”

You heard a scuffle on the other end of the phone, a distant, sharp Give me the phone! and then there was Emily’s voice, flooding you with relief.

“Honey, I’m fine, I promise,” she said, and she certainly didn’t sound like she was dying.

“You got shot!”

“Just a little bit…” Her voice was sheepish.

You threw up your hands in frustration. “Emily Elizabeth Prentiss! You have a child coming. You can’t be getting shot!”

“I know, I know.”

You sighed, rubbing your forehead. “What hospital are you at?”

“No, baby, you don’t need to come,” she protested.

“Don’t need to come, my ass,” you grumbled. “Where are you?”

Another scuffle and Derek had the phone back. “Y/N. Hey. We’re just in Baltimore, alright? She’ll probably be discharged here in a few minutes, and I’ll bring her home.”

You were still a little suspicious. “Straight home?”

“You have my word.”

It was the longest hour and a half of your life, sitting on the couch, watching the Find My dot of Emily inch its way home. You frowned when you saw her stop at El Rinconcito. That little shit. She was trying to buy you off with pupusas. Well, it wasn’t going to work. Your stomach rumbled. Well, it might work a little bit.

A half hour later, you heard the door unlock. Derek held it open for a very guilty looking Emily, who walked through the threshold with her arm bandaged and wrapped in a sling.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, your hands fluttering all over her, gingerly touching the bandage and turning her face this way and that to check for more damage.

“I’m fine, honey,” she said, pressing her good hand to your face and kissing you.

“Mmhm,” you mumbled, unconvinced. “Tell that to your unborn child.”

Emily crouched down and pressed a kiss to your stomach. “Mommy’s just fine, little guy, don’t you worry.”

It was so cute, you couldn’t even be that mad.

“Alright, lovebirds,” Derek said, gesturing to the couch. “Get comfortable and let Uncle Derek take care of you.”

You grimaced, thinking of straight people things. “Eew.”

He rolled his eyes at you. “Not like that. Sit down and eat your pupusas, woman.”

You and Emily giggled, plopping yourselves on the couch, one on either side.

Derek threw blankets at you, and you got yourselves situated, your legs tangled in the middle. Derek plated the takeout and brought it to you.

“I could get used to this,” Emily said, taking a bite and running her foot up and down your leg.

“You better fucking not,” you mumbled through a bite of pupusa. “I don’t want you getting shot every time you want a lazy day.”

Derek brought you both glasses of water and set a bottle of pain meds on the side table next to Emily.

“Anything else I can do for you, ladies?” he asked. “Foot rub? Serenade? Grocery run?”

You smiled at him. He was so good to you. Both of you. “You’re gonna make some straight woman very happy.”

He bent down to ruffle your hair and to squeeze Emily’s good hand. “I’ll settle for my favorite lesbians for now. You need anything else before I go?”

Emily shook her head. “No, I think we’ll be okay. Thanks, Morgan.”

“Anytime, Prentiss,” he replied, giving her a small salute as he walked out the door. "Call me if you need anything."

The moment he left, you shot a glare at Emily.

“What?” she said, trying and failing to shrug, thanks to her injured shoulder.

You couldn’t help the worried expression that took over your face.

“Please tell me you’re careful,” you pleaded, brushing a few unexpected tears from under your eyes.

“Y/N.” She sat up, alarmed, and reached for your hand. “I’m careful. I swear.”

“I just… I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“And you’ll never have to find out,” she reassured, rubbing her thumb across the back of your hand.

“We need you, Em,” you whispered, placing your other hand over your baby bump.

She winced a little as she moved forward, pulling your face toward her so she could stroke your cheek. “I’m never reckless, honey. I do everything I can to stay safe. I promise. I will always come home to you.”

You were quiet as she pressed her forehead to yours, breathing in the smell of her, the warmth. You both knew it was a promise she couldn't make, not with her job. But you needed Emily to understand that it wasn't just her she was staying safe for anymore. It was you and the little one, who deserved to grow up with both of her moms.

“Sometimes it scares me how much I love you,” you said, so quiet she almost didn’t hear.

Emily kissed your forehead, then pressed her lips to yours, soft and gentle. “Me too.”

She pecked you on the lips again, then brushed her thumb over your bottom lip. “But you don’t need to be scared today, okay?��

She smiled a little, and you nodded, taking a deep breath.

“Now, eat your pupusas,” she grinned, pinching your cheek.

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x fem!reader #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic

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wnobin · 5 months

Text

dinosaurs and bears 🦕

childhood crush! anton x fem! reader

genre: fluff, slightly suggestive

chapter synopsis: anton begins to catch on to why you won’t watch his swim practices.

intro | part one | part two | part three | part four (final!)

four years ago.

once your parents figured out you and anton were a good match and you could open up to each other, you were over at the lee’s once a week for dinner, with your family hosting one alternate weeks. after dinner you and anton would rush into his study, anton excited to show you his new dinosaur book. he would read the book aloud for you while you sat next to him, almost dozing off from the dinner food coma combined with his soft and melodic voice. other nights, you would bring him to your room to show off a new plushie you got from the thrift store. this was the normal routine for the both of you as you were growing up.

“you’re gonna bring home bedbugs one day!” anton giggled while inspecting your brand new bunny plushie. you frowned and shook your head violently, insisting that you give them a bath as soon as they come home. “god, how many more are you going to bring home… i’ve been watching you bring home stuffed animals since i was ten and now six years and fifty teddy bears later…” he gestures to the pile of plushies scattered across your bed, shaking his head and pretending to be disappointed. despite the both of you not being six and seven anymore, nothing much changed for you. you were still the plushie-obsessed girl who only talked to your parents, inanimate objects, and anton. anton on the other hand, while still being introverted and soft-spoken, had begun to step out of his comfort zone a bit more. the older had taken up swimming lessons, which took up more of his time. however, he would still make time to spend with you and your family. that was one of the qualities you admired most about anton. how family oriented he was and how he would always prioritise his relationships with his friends. still, you wouldn’t miss how he closed his eyes longer during his blinks, or how he slouched over while sitting next to you due to exhaustion. you were 15 and anton was 16 now, which allowed the both of you to hang out at each other’s till later at night. at this point, the night breeze was blowing through your room and you were both silent, anton helping you to organise your plushie ridden bed while you quietly sewed up your new bunny plush. “do you think i’m a good swimmer?” anton broke the silence, turning to look at you with slightly tired eyes and brachio, his childhood plushie that you took from him, on his lap. “hm? of course i do! you’ve won so many competitions,” you reassured him, patting his head lightly as he hummed and leaned into your touch. “but you never come to any of my competitions.”

that statement caught you off guard. “that’s not true… i went to one! seven months ago!” you defended yourself, pulling your hand away and continuing your surgery on your bunny. you knew deep down why your one time watching anton compete was your first and last. throughout the years, anton had grown in height drastically, almost towering over you. his height wasn’t the only thing that grew, but his arms had gotten so much stronger and bigger. whenever he wore tank tops, you found it hard not to stare, your heart running laps as you tried to remind yourself that this is anton!! the boy that you grew up with!! the boy that sees you like a little sister!! you couldn’t let him know that the reason why you don’t show up for his swim meets is that you can’t hold yourself back from blushing and getting flustered over seeing his toned, strong arms and his dripping wet hair, and his slightly confident smirk when he wins.

anton can’t help but feel a slight ache in his heart. why don’t you want to support him? every single competiton he looks into the crowd, hoping to see you cheering him on but you’re not there. he doesn’t know why he gets disappointed when you congratulate him over text, sending a generic message. seeing the im sure you did well anyways!! after he gets second place, knowing that he wouldn’t have performed so badly if you were there. he doesn’t know why he wants— no, needs your validation. he doesn’t know why he likes you patting his head or running your fingers through his hair.

he remains silent, only letting out a mere hum to your words, exhaustion taking over him. his eyes begin to flutter and close, head leaning back against the wall. anton loves your room. he’s surrounded by plushies, fluffy blankets and your scent. you smell faintly of vanilla and strawberries and it smells like home to him. your room was like his second home, you even had a few dinosaur books in your shelves from him that he left when he came over through the years.

anton might have still been confused about his feelings but you weren’t. you’re not sure when exactly you fell for him. was it love at first sight when he let you take brachio without putting up an argument and instead giving in to you? was it when he defended you with a shaky voice when others would make fun of you for still bringing your teddy bear around even though you were already ten? was it when he was 15 and sniffling with his head in your lap crying over how some girl rejected him, saying he was too quiet and shy to be anyone’s boyfriend and all you could think of was that you would never treat him like that. it was the first time anton stayed the night, you comforted him all night that day, reassuring him that he shouldn’t change for anyone and that he was enough.

you were too caught up in your thoughts to realise anton was already fast asleep, soft snores leaving his mouth. he looks so pretty like that, you thought. you could look at him forever. brushing the hair out of his face, you leaned in closer to him and lightly blew air in his face, waking him up. “c’mon you know you can’t stay the night. you have practice early tomorrow.” you tapped his cheek gently, trying to keep him awake. the older boy let out a soft groan and closed his eyes again, changing positions to curl up in fetus position. “doesn’t matter. your bed ‘s so comfy, let me sleep here, pleaaase,” he slurs, sleepiness taking over him. you sigh, giving in and pulling a blanket over him. “fine. let me tell my parents you’re staying the night.”

“no.” anton grabs your arm and pulls you next to him, turning to face you and holding your arm close to him. your breath gets caught in your throat. sure, anton has spent the night before but he always slept on the floor. you’ve never been so close to him before, you could even feel his soft breaths on your skin. why was everything about him so soft? his voice, his breathing, his hair, everything. you can’t help but to cave, succumbing to exhaustion as well. you still kept as wide as a distance possible between the both of you despite sharing a bed and blanket. “love you, ‘ton,” you softly muttered, 100% sure he was sound asleep and wouldn’t hear you.

“love you too.”

#riize #riize x reader #riize smut #riize fluff #riize imagines #anton imagines #riize anton #anton lee #riize anton x reader #anton fluff

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destiel-wings · 3 months

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I hope you don't mind me asking, but what are your thoughts on angel x buffy? :)

Hii i don't mind, thank you for asking 😊

So, I used to love bangel sooooo much when i first watched the show. I was 100% into it, (with a crush for Boreanaz too) and i cried so much for them in s2 and when Angel left the show in s3. And I truly, sincerely, unironically hated Spike too (I thought he was a great character but i just loved hating him, you know? Lol). When we saw Spike's dream of kissing Buffy I swear i felt nauseous.

... and then they aired Fool for love.

By the end of that episode I was left in utter existential crisis in front of my tv because i felt my whole world shift. There was a part of me that still liked Angel and Buffy, but there was also this new part that wanted her to be with Spike now.

So anyway, that's when i decided to switch teams and i became team spuffy, and for as much as i had been obsessed with bangel before, it was nothing compared to how deep i was caught into the Buffy and Spike relationship. I never looked back. They were just much more complex and real and compelling. And it made me reevaluate Angel and her relationship with him too. Angel never really knew Buffy, always treated her like a child, and let's be honest--and that's something that hit me only years later when I got older--she was a child when they were together. He was spying on her and falling in love with her when she was just fifteen years old and he was a 240-year-old vampire who had been sired at like 26 years old, and they got together when she was 16/17 and he broke up with her when she turned 18... I don't think that's something the writers did intentionally of course, because (as everything else in buffy) it's just meant to be taken as a metaphor for the ideals and struggles and the intensity of drama of a girl's first love, but it still comes off as icky.

And before anyone comes at me, I know spuffy isn't healthy either, but that's kinda the point and the appeal. First of all, it's fiction and a metaphor, and secondly, it's about two broken people that are supposed to be mortal enemies but are actually two sides of the same coin, so different and yet so much the same, who can understand each other as a whole, light and darkness, in a way that no one else ever could, who yes, hurt each other along the way, but whose love saved them from the deepest darkness, ultimately bringing them into the light.

This is what spuffy is to me, and this is why i think it's not only the superior ship, but one of the best ships of all time (thee best, until i saw destiel, now they're sharing the podium).

So anyway, to get back to your question, the moment i became obsessed with Buffy and Spike (and i have been ever since 2005, lmao, they've been my first real obsession, alongside btvs, until spn and destiel) Angel sort of became the enemy 😅. And I hated him so so so so so much when he appeared in 7x21 and kissed Buffy (pure fanservice, but okay) and brought the medallion that ultimately killed Spike. So i spent years very maturely holding my vendetta against Angel (like, rooting for every demon that fought against him when I watched Angel, lmaoo). In most recent years, I've (sort of) made my peace with the character, after rewatching Angel. I mean he's still the enemy (of course, duh!! Who am i if not eternally petty??) but i appreciate him in his own show.

So i don't ship Angel and Buffy anymore, but I can understand why someone would (as i myself used to), and more importantly, i respect other people's right to ship them.

If we're joking, I'm going to insult Angel and keep saying he's the enemy. But on a mature serious note, I think Buffy and Angel were a great first love (for Buffy), but they were supposed to be just that, the impossible teenage girl's dream of a first love, eternal but doomed to end and break your heart.

I think Angel was much more well paired with Cordelia (which is something I'd never think I'd say), and i found myself shipping them so much when I rewatched the show. It felt so much more mature and profound than what we saw with Buffy and Angel (and that's probably due to the fact that we got slow burn for them - as we did for Buffy and Spike- and could actually see the feelings growing, while Buffy crushed on Angel in the pilot and she was madly in love (as teenagers do) in 0.5 seconds for no apparent reason than the fact that he was hot and mysterious.

So when I say the kiss in btvs 7x21 makes zero sense, I'm not just talking about spuffy, but also about cangel. I feel like both characters parted ways and lived on in their own shows to grow and become their own persons, developing other relationships that were more adult and meaningful, and that kiss was just disrespectful for both (but anyways, it doesn't change anything).

I have so many thoughts about all this honestly, and I hope I haven't gone too much off the tangent with my reply, but i couldn't just give you a simple reply because that would've had to be something like "angel is the enemy and i don't like bangel" but as you can see my thoughts are a little more complex than that 😅

#btvs #spuffy #spuffy vs bangel #anti bangel #buffy x spike #angel x cordelia #cangel #my commentary #my opinion #asks #asks answered #@anniemurphy #sorry it took me a little while to reply but i wanted to give a thoughtful answer <3

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charlie-lec-stories · 8 months

Text

Fangio 2.0 // CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc / Original Female Character

Summary: Charles finds himself worried about the crazy frenzy around his girlfriend who just got a seat in F1, but this feeling that was constantly minimized by her is going to become more than justified when a threat is made.

Warnings: Kidnapping, stalking, misogyny, drugs, obsessive behavior, descriptions of violence.

Author’s Note: This is a story I totally forgot about but that it's fucking amazing. Some time ago I read that the Argentinian driver, Fangio, was kidnapped before the Cuban Grand Prix and the story was inspired by that. It's crazy, but Fangio said that his captors treated him "very well" and he was dropped off unharmed at the Argentinian Embassy 29 hours after being captured. Based on that, this story is less happy, but I thought it would be interesting to work on male obsession with female celebrities. Rate: +16 (descriptions of violence)

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"¡La puta madre, pero qué boluda!" (Motherfucker, what an idiot!). Charles heard his girlfriend's voice coming from the bathroom, making him look away from his phone. He understood Spanish very well, still, he had no idea what she said. Her tone made it clear to him that she was cursing, but he was starting to believe that Argentinians had a language of their own, because it was really hard for him to understand it. He had never heard of anyone with as many variations of curse words and complicated slang as his girlfriend. Most of what she said couldn't even be translated properly or made no sense when taken literally. Her soft footsteps grew in volume as she walked closer to the living room, where he sat comfortably on the couch. She stood in front of him with her best puppy eyes, showing him his bottle of Tom Ford cologne. It was expensive, he wanted to wince, but her accent was really cute when she apologized. "Amor, I'm so sorry. I broke your perfume".

"It's okay, mon amour, don't worry". He gave up easily and she smiled, sitting on his lap.

"I'll buy you a new one. I promise". He chuckled. She earned a quarter of his salary, he wasn't going to make her pay for a new one.

"You don't have to, it's really expensive". He said softly bumping her nose with his.

"No, no. I broke it, Charlie. I have to replace it". She noticed that he was looking at her with pity. "It can't be that expensive, right?".

"Well... it's around 300 dollars the small bottle". She moved back a little, her eyes wide open.

"Ehh! ¿Qué rompimo'?". Charles laughed loudly, he already understood what that phrase meant, she said that on a date before, when he took her to an expensive restaurant in Monaco and she was horrified with the prices on the menu. She had just signed with Alfa Tauri, after winning the F2 championship. She explained to him that the phrase was an Argentinian saying and it meant that something was overpriced, he loved it when she explained things to him. They had been dating for quite some time, first introduced by Arthur, his younger brother, after they shared a podium in F3. He asked her out, she said yes and two weeks later everyone knew they were dating. That was two years ago. Now, Red Bull was interested in her, they wanted to see how well she did with Alfa Tauri before moving her to the main team, as Max Verstappen's teammate. "Shit, I'm not paying that for a perfume. Can I compensate the damage with a great quickie pre-press? It's the best I can offer". She fixed her position on his lap, sneaking her arms around his neck and pressing her body to his, he just chuckled.

"That would be more than enough".

Running kind of late after what ended up not being a quickie, they made their way to the paddock. It was Monaco Grand Prix and Charles was tense, he wanted to finally win his home race. Y/N took his hand in hers and he pulled her close firmly while they walked, waving at the fans and press that had gathered at the entrance, but keeping their distance for security mesures. Having been a couple for long, people were interested on how they would deal with racing each other and their relationship. The press was constantly nagging them and trying to steer some drama. However, the biggest problem wasn't the press but the fans. Charles' fans were mostly women and never did more that call Y/N names from time to time, mostly at the beginning of their relationship. On the other hand, her fans were not only women but also men, and they were a lot more obsessive. It was like people was crazier around her, screamed louder, and crushed harder on her, like she was a goddess. Charles could understand why people loved her so much, he loved her endlessly himself, but he was worried about the level of obsession around his girl. People were always pulling weird stunts to get close to her, trying to touch her and crying when they got to see her. She was like a pop star, cameras and people running after her all the time. It was strange that something like that happened on her first ever season in F1, but Alfa Tauri was more than happy with the amount of attention that she brought to them. Her natural appeal to people got her and the team a lot of sponsors and the PR team wanted to exploit her public image to the maximum. They appointed her a security team and exposed her as much as they could. Nonetheless, Charles kept worrying, he was way wealthier than her and had been on the spotlight for longer, but he had never felt in danger because of it. There were threats agains her, people saying that they were going to kill her so no one else could have her, men sending letters describing everything they'll do to her, and other disgusting things. He did feel scared for her but security assured them that they would handle that.

"Good morning, you two!". Megan, Y/N's PR officer, greeted them once they made the security check at the paddock's entrance. She smiled and they mirrored the gesture.

"Good morning, Meg. How are you?". Y/N gripped Charles' hand again as he watched Marc, Y/N's bodyguard, talk with the paddock's security. Marc followed them around wherever they went to, and Charles was grateful for that, he did a great job keeping Y/N safe. The man was almost 2 meters tall, which already would make anyone feel safe, but what Charles liked the most about Marc was how detail orientated he was. Marc's operations were amazing and never failed, he could always move them out of a place without exposing them or putting them in any danger and kept a close eye on stalkers and threats. Talking with the paddock's security was something that Marc did everyday to keep them in the loop of what was needed to ensure Y/N and Charles safety. While the other two women talked, Charles noticed that Marc was frowning, the tall man wasn't exactly rainbows and sunshine, but he was a pretty amicable guy who was usually in a good mood.

"Che, amor" (Hey, love). Y/N pulled at Charles' hand to catch his attention. "Is everything alright? You look kinda pale”.

“Marc is frowning”. Charles answered without looking at her. “I think something’s wrong”.

“Well, he’s approaching us... We’ll see”. She was frowning herself as she watched her bodyguard walk towards them.

“Miss Y/N, for security reasons we’ll cancel press today”. Marc said with a steady and calm voice. It helped Y/N relax a bit, but not Charles.

“What do you mean security reasons?”. The monegasque asked anxiously.

“There’s been a threat which we decided to take seriously, it involves the press rounds. It was specifically against Miss Y/N, it doesn’t suppose any risk to you, Mr. Charles, but I suggested your team to follow the same security plan just in case”. Charles and Y/N looked at each other, then at Megan.

“I’ll make a statement, don’t worry”. The PR official answer with a sigh.

“Please, let’s go inside to discuss the security mesures we took for this situation”. Still holding hands, maybe a little tighter than before, the two drivers walked inside Alfa Tauri’s hospitality right in front of Marc.

The security team explained to them what they had to do: stay mostly indoors, don’t approach unknown people and areas, evade groups of people and use the buddy system to never be alone. Monaco police was aware of the situation and were working with them to let the two drivers rest assure that they’ll find the source of the threat. Charles spent the day glued to Y/N’s side, he even waited for her outside the bathroom, scared of something happening and not being able to help. Their teams arranged for their practices to be simultaneously to make their security teams’ job easier. They finished their practices together and went straight back to their apartment. Even there, Charles was unable to relax, he stayed close to his girlfriend, following her around the apartment as if something could come out of a closet a take her. He had this bad feeling inside his chest, he wasn’t sure if it was Marc’s weary behavior or the fact that they should have found the source by now and they haven’t, but something inside him told Charles that this was bad. Y/N reassured him that everything would be alright, that she wasn’t scared and that he shouldn’t be scared either. They cuddled in bed for the rest of the afternoon, then had dinner and went back to bed. Charles hugged her close, tightly wrapped her in his arms, as if she would disappear at any second.

When Charles woke up the next morning, his girlfriend wasn’t in his arms where he left her, instead he found her side of the bed empty. Alarmed and suddenly hyperaware, he got up and searched the apartment calling her name, but she was nowhere to be found. In the kitchen, on the island, he found a note: “Good morning, Amor. Walter texted, they found the source and everything’s fine. Wanted to wake you up but you needed the sleep. I’ll be back in 20 to have breakfast together. Te amooo”. Walter was Marc’s replacement for night shifts, he worked from 8 PM to 8 AM. Charles looked at the time, it was 7:48, so Walter and Y/N should be getting back any time soon for Walter and Marc to exchange their duty position. He still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, but he tried to calm himself down and don’t overthink it. She would be back in a few minutes and they’ll have breakfast and go to the paddock. He jumped at the sudden knock on his front door.

“Amour, did you forget your keys again?”. He asked as he walked to the door, but it wasn’t his girlfriend on the other side of it.

“Mr. Charles, is Miss Y/N here?”. Marc asked him, worried.

“No. She’s out with Walter. Left a note saying that you guys found the source and everything’s fine. She should be back any moment now”. Charles felt the cold rush going down his spine.

“We haven’t found the source yet. You need to come with me, now. Walter is not answering his intercom”. Marc forced Charles out of the apartment, not even caring that he was just in joggers and slippers, he barely got time to grab a hoodie from the living room before he was dragged outside. On the street, Monaco police was waiting for their signal to enter the apartment and check it. He saw a few officers walk inside as he was taken to a black SUV, where other officers were waiting to escort him to the police station.

Charles sat anxiously at the station, he was offered some clothes to change into and he felt kind of uncomfortable with the police training outfit, it itched and was too warm. Or maybe he was the one warm and itchy from stress. They had him sitting there, without information and at any other situation he would’ve been screaming and throwing things around until someone kept him in the loop. But now, scared and confused, he couldn’t even remember how to speak, his mind working on a mix between English, French, Italian and Argentinian Spanish, unable to form a coherent thought. He was paralyzed, he didn’t know where his girlfriend was, if she was okay, if he would ever see her again. The wet dots on the blue police pants let him know that he had been crying for who knows how long. His head hurt, he could feel the pulse of his heart on his right lobe and a tingling sensation that went from his ear to his eye. The stress was eating him alive. There were a few officers that looked at him with pity, feeling sorry for him and kind of surprised for his vulnerability. He was a hero in Monaco, his smile was plastered everywhere, it was impossible for the Monegasques to picture him like this, so broken. He was sobbing uncontrollably, with his knees to his chest, his hair messy and hands shaky. It had been two hours since they took him there and he never stopped crying once.

“Charles!”. He looked up from his knees and found a lot of familiar faces. His mother and brothers, his best friends Pierre and Joris and Y/N’s closest friends Carlos and Max. Carlos had been the one to call his name sprinting towards him. “Mate, what happened? They told us Y/N is missing!”

“I… I don’t know”. He started crying again. He wanted to be strong and composed, but he just couldn’t. He needed her back. His mother walked to him and wrapped her arms around him, whispering some comfort in French. The commotion brought Marc out of the Sergeant’s office, making everyone look at him. His face serious and hard and he was gripping some papers quite tightly.

“We found Walter. But not Y/N”. He informed them. “He’s unconscious and he’s been taken to the hospital”.

“What happened? Where did you find him?”. Max asked what everyone wanted to know.

“He was on an ally 15 blocks away from the apartment. He was beaten and thrown out of his own car”. Marc explained. Charles cried some more, he wasn’t even sure he had any more tears in him to shred. “We are hoping to get more information once he wakes up”.

“What about the cameras?”. Pierre asked after a moment of silence.

“That’s another thing we need to talk about”. Marc walked closer to Charles. “We have a few pictures of a few possible suspects and some footage from the security cameras. We need you to look at it”.

“Okay”. Charles answered with his voice hoarse. Marc called an officer, who handled Charles a laptop, no one wanting him to move, too scared of him collapsing.

The video was hard to watch. There was a delivery boy, standing at the door, ringing their bell and waiting. The video had sound, and he could be heard. He told her that he was from the pharmacy, that the perfume she ordered was there. He could hear his girlfriend telling him that she didn’t ordered it. The kid told her that a woman called Kristine Weller was the one who ordered it, Kristine was her assistant. Convinced that her assistant had ordered it for her, she told the boy that she’ll be down in a minute. The perfume, the fucking Tom Ford perfume. He saw her open the door, fully dressed to go on a run, and talk to the boy. She paid him a generous tip and took the bag with the perfume. Then, after saying good bye, she walked towards Walter’s car, parked on the other side of the street. The cameras didn’t cover what happened, but a few seconds later, the car could be seen going north. The next video showed the car again, from behind, and it was shaking. Then the driver’s door opened and an unconscious Walter was thrown out, the face of the person who attacked him was slightly uncovered, but not enough for an identification without something to compare it with. On the video it could be seen that Y/N was on the back seat, kicking at the window of the left back door. There was no sound so it couldn’t be heard what they were saying. The officer closed the laptop. Marc looked at Charles, who kept as quiet as he was before.

“We believe that the children’s lock was on and she couldn’t open the door, so she started kicking the window, trying to break it”. Marc explained. “The perpetrator used the perfume as bait and got lucky with her plan of going for a run. We know that he sent a text from Walter’s work phone, telling her that the source was found. She told Walter that she was going to go for a jog, without knowing it, she gave the man 20 minutes ahead of us with that plan”.

“She always runs to relieve stress”. Charles said softly.

“The source bounces from country to country, this person knows about technology. We checked your computers, they were both hacked. He’s been watching you, studying you and your routines”. Charles stopped crying for a moment and looked at Marc, confused. “He probably heard your conversations and used the camera to watch you. He had access to your calendars and emails, everything".

“He knew about the perfume”. Charles got a few glances and decided to explain. “She broke my perfume yesterday. She wanted to buy me a new one”.

“We checked with Kristine and the pharmacy, she wasn’t the one that brought the perfume, but Y/N’s card was used to pay. We believe he may have done it through her computer. She told Kristine that she’ll buy one for you as a surprise, after she told you she wasn’t buying it”. Charles felt sick, he felt like it was all his fault somehow. “He ordered it as Kristine, payed with Y/N’s card and sent the text from Walter’s phone to make sure that she’ll walk out of the apartment. The threat was to keep us busy. It specifically targeted her in the paddock, keeping our focus there and away from your home. He planned this, for quite some time, he was just waiting for the right moment to put his plan to work”.

"Has him asked for a ransom?". Arthur looked at Charles when he asked, who just shook his head.

"I don't think he will". Marc informed them. "The threat suggests that he's obsessed with her. Even thought it was to keep us occupied, he wrote it and we can analyze it. He seems to believe that he loves her and she belongs with him".

"I'm never seen her again. He's going to kill her". Charles cried out.

"No, no". The bodyguard comforted him quickly. "This is actually an opportunity to get her back. If she follows her obsessive fan training, she'll be safe. He won't hurt her because he needs her to love him back".

"Obsessive fan training?". Joris asked.

"When we noticed that a lot of people were showing obsession tendencies, we gave her a training on how to deal with that behavior if she ever crossed paths with someone like that".

"So you thought something like this would happen?". Max was getting angrier.

"No, not a kidnap, but we expected some unfriendly encounter with a stalker at some point. We taught her to be nice and do what she was asked, to be affectionate with the perp and how to look for ways to escape the situation. We also told her how to save the situation if she failed an escape to buy herself some time". Everyone stayed silent, unsure on how to take the information. "She's a smart woman, she'll get us the time we need to find her".

Two days. Two days and no new leads, he couldn't recognize anyone from the pictures that Marc showed him at the station. Charles couldn't eat nor sleep. The Grand Prix was cancelled and Ferrari gave him a paid leave until the situation was finally handled and he could get back. He stayed with Joris and Arthur at Joris' apartment, since his own was a crime scene. Walter was still unconscious and unable to give them information. Charles felt like he was losing his mind. He missed her so much. He felt empty without her, like everything lacked meaning. He didn't want to race, or talk or even listen to music. He couldn't close his eyes without seeing her, her eyes close and face relaxed, like the last time he saw her three nights ago and that sight made him miss her more. He needed her to sleep properly, to breath, to live. Joris tried to force him to eat, Arthur too, but he just couldn't. Whatever he ate, he threw it all up later. For the third day, Walter woke up. He gave a description of the assailant and Marc looked at their database to find possible matches. No one was. Another dead end. Charles was losing his patience and the fact that he hasn't eaten in three days wasn't helping. He finally fainted on the fifth day and was taken to the hospital. He was connected to an IV to give him some vitamins and nutrients. He felt weak and broken.

Seven days was too long, but the time of a whole week without Y/N sadly arrived. Charles had spent the last two days at the hospital and was discharged once his last tests results were alright. Lorenzo, his older brother, picked him up, ready to take him to his house instead of Joris' to see if he could help his younger brother get better. Everyone was losing hope in finding her, dead or alive, and they were trying to prepare Charles for the worst. At the hospital, Lorenzo took Charles' arm and started guiding him to the exit, when a nurse stopped them around the ER area.

"Charles!". She called out. "I don't know if you remember me-"

"Yes, I do". Charles cut her off and gave her a small smile. "You are the nurse that help Y/N when she cut her hand last Christmas". It happened last year, they were celebrating and drank a little too much. They went back home and while making out in the kitchen, they knocked off a glass, she cut her hand trying to clean it up, even though he told her not to. They spent the whole time at the hospital arguing and the nurses were watching. It seemed like they were on the verge of breaking up but then she cursed at him in Spanish and he laughed. She joined him and the problem was solve. The nurses found cute and pretty funny how they went from fighting to laughing in a second. But they were like that, they just couldn't stay mad at each other for too long.

"I just wanted to tell you that I'm really sorry for what you are going through and that I hope that Y/N can be found safe and sound". She smiled at him and Charles nodded his head. "We all could see that you both love each other so much".

"Thank you". He didn't expect his voice to be so broken. "We do, I do. I love her so much". Lorenzo could see he was breaking down again so he asked for some support.

"Maybe we just need to sit down for a moment. Is there anywhere quiet where we could go?". She nodded her head.

"Yes, of course, follow me. You can sit for a while in the nurses' casino". They followed her and made sure that Charles was away from the public eye. They sat him down and the nurse helped him steady his breathing. She stayed with them until she was called. "I have to go, but my colleague, Jean, will be around. Okay, just tell him if you need anything". She walked out and spoke to a tall blond guy who was outside. Charles could hear her telling him to offer them some water. The guy entered the room and Charles could feel a cold sensation through his body, the hair at the back of his neck going up and goosebumps all over his arms. That face, he knew that face.

"I know you". Charles told him in a whisper. Jean looked at him with a smile. "You were here when my girlfriend cut her hand". But he knew him from somewhere else, he just couldn't pinpoint from where. Charles could see a hint of disgust in Jean's eyes for a moment, but it went away just as fast as it came.

"I don't remember, sir, but if it was a Wednesday, Friday or Saturday, I was probably here".

"It was a Friday". Charles informed him and the other just nodded his head.

"I think I remember now. You were fighting. It was Christmas. Such a shame for girl to spend the holiday in an ER box". There was this teasing tone in his voice, Charles didn't like it. Lorenzo followed the conversation, sensing that something wasn't alright. The nurse looked pretty familiar to him too. "Well, I'll leave this here for you". Jean placed a bottle of water on the table and walked out of the room.

"It's him". Charles said softly. "Call Marc".

"I'm sure it's him!" Charles repeated exasperated once he was at Lorenzo's apartment, his grip on his phone a little too hard. "He was there when Y/N cut her hand. He looked at her a lot, I remember that I got kind of jealous. I was drunk but I remember him. And I'm sure that his face is in the video". Marc wasn't sure, but it was their only lead, so he went with it.

"I'll check it out".

It took them a few hours to gather everything they could about Jean Laurent. He was a smart man, a nurse, but he was formerly a militar operative, specialized in informatics. He had a dishonored discharge for stalking a fellow soldier, she refused to press charged in exchange of him leaving the military. He became a nurse and worked as such since then. He was openly passionate about F1 and had made a few comments against Charles. He followed Y/N on all social networks he liked all of her pictures and posts. He had what was needed to be a suspect. When they compared the footage of the camera with his picture, it looked similar. Marc then showed the picture to Walker, who recognized him quickly and that gave them enough to get a search warrant. The operation was smooth and fast. Jean understood pretty easily the he didn't had the upper hand and gave up. Inside his home, they found Y/N handcuffed and with the same clothes she had when he took her. She was pale and drugged and they took her to the hospital where she was stabilized. Jean confessed that he always loved her and hated Charles, and when he saw them arguing on Christmas he decided to hack into their computers to "protect her". To him, Charles didn't deserve her and didn't treat her right. With some time, he became addicted to watch her everyday until watching wasn't enough, he then moved into a new path and decided to take her. At the hospital, the doctors confirmed that she was well fed and hydrated, she didn't have any injuries more that the bruises from the handcuffs. She wasn't sexually assaulted and she assured them that he didn't try it either. Toxicology confirmed that she was indeed drugged, and Jean told them that he did it then he had to go to work, to make sure that she was "calmed" and "relaxed" when he wasn't around. Once everything was sorted out at the hospital, they let Charles see her.

"Mon Amour!" (My love!). He called her when he saw her. She was mess, but the smile she gave him when she looked at him lightened up her eyes. He hugged her tight, feeling like he was alive again. "Je t'aime tellement" (I love you so much). He repeated in her ear over and over again.

"Yo también te amo, Charlie" (I love you too, Charlie). They stayed like that for a few minutes, just enjoying being close to each other again. "I was so scared, all I could do was think of you and how to find you". She said once she broke the hug. He grabbed her face and kissed her softly.

"It's okay, we're together now. You're safe". She nodded her head and smiled at him. He left out sigh of content and peace now that he had her back, safe and sound. They went to Lorenzo's apartment once she was discharged from the hospital. She seemed to be dealing well with the situation. She assured Charles that her captor never hit her, assaulted her or even yelled at her, but she saw just how violent he could be when he attacked Walker, who she thought was dead. She was relieved when she found out that he was alive. Public statements were made and a few more weeks of recovery were given to both of them before going back to the races.

They got their apartment back a week after she was rescued. Sitting on their couch, cuddled up under a blanket, they talked softly about how they were dealing with the situation. They both came to the conclusion that therapy was needed and that they will not shy away from this, they wanted to get better, to feel better and to heal. Charles also decided that he wanted to get married, he knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, but he choose to wait until she was feeling like herself again. He knew that she was going to say yes, they had been ready for marriage for a long time, he just had to ask. And he will. It took them a few month to find some sort of normalcy, but they found it by the end of the year, after a lot of therapy and relaying on each other. One windy day of December, almost a year after they crossed paths with Jean for the first time, Charles found Y/N looking at painting of Fangio they had hanging on their living room. Sneaking his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder, he looked at the painting too, trying to find out what was so interesting about it.

"Did you know that Fangio was kidnapped in Cuba?". She asked in a whisper, turning around in his arms to face him.

"No, I didn't". He pecked her lips, then her jaw and went down to her neck. He wasn't trying to start anything, he just wanted her to feel loved.

"If you had a nickel for every time an Argentinian F1 driver was kidnapped, you'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice". And with that joke, he knew she was back. He saw the yes in her eyes, so he asked:

"Will you marry me?".

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Shoot out to my Argentinian ex who was a walking slang dictionary. God, that boy was hard to understand, and we both spoke the same language.

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc imagines

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yanderes-galore · 2 years

Note

Your prompts ; 15.) "Please smile for me... don't make me force you...."16.) "Do as I say or I may just have to press this weapon closer to your back...." For Jason Todd (it could be any version you enjoy , if your stuck maybe Red hood the movie? ) please I’m fine with platonic or romantic Yandere , thank u 💋

I decided to do the "Under The Red Hood" movie for this. Personally, out of every Robin, I am a Jason Todd fan. Had to alter one of the prompts to make it work. Sorry if his character is off, first time writing him.

Yandere! Jason Todd/Red Hood Prompts 15 + 16

"Please smile for me... don't make me force you...."

"Do as I say or I may just have to press this weapon closer to your back...."

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Stalking, Manipulation, Threats, Kidnapping, Slight sadism, Implied trauma, Overprotective behavior, Possessive behavioe, Obsession, Unhealthy sense of love, Forced relationship, Murder mentioned.

Jason hadn't known love in a long time. Love was a thing rarely seen and expressed in Gotham anyways. All he ever saw was drugs and crime.

Crime that could've been more under control if Bruce stepped up his game. Jason did something the bat didn't dare do. He wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty.

Jason had tweaked the training Batman gave him. He wanted Gotham a better place, but there was no way to get rid of crime in Gotham. At this point it was embedded in the city.

No, instead Jason felt controlling it was the answer.

His goal was to be the heart of it. That way he could monitor what went on in this city. Then it will be a better place.

He never had time to think of love. His childhood was spent alongside Batman chasing crime. He can't even consider Batman much of a parental figure after the whole bomb incident.

The concept of healthy, mutual love and care wasn't a common occurrence to him. Which is why, when he meets you, his feelings aren't... the best.

He had met you when you were a victim to some of the dealers he controlled. There was some sort of altercation that he quickly put a stop to. That was when the strange feelings started.

Helping you out, making sure you were okay enough to go your separate ways, made Jason feel something. He didn't dare dwell on it and tried to ignore it until he saw you safe. Then, on the roof tops of Gotham, Jason thought about it.

You were attractive in his eyes. That could explain the sudden warmth and fuzzy feeling. It's not like he hasn't heard of the cliché crush feeling.

It's just he didn't expect an undead assassin like himself to feel something as innocent as that.

He liked it, it was a nice treat. That's what made him mark you for all his gang members to know you're an ally. It made you safe and easier to find later.

Jason always knew where you were. Talking to you was difficult due to the whole identity thing yet he made it work. Occasionally you'd meet again... and Jason would enjoy every second of it.

Like the teenage years he never had, he fell for you hard. He never had time for things like this before, but now Jason has control of his life.

In fact, he has control of a good chunk of territory.

He has all the time he wants to indulge in the feelings he has for you.

Jason only knew he had an obsession after he established a close bond with you. Month after month... Jason tracked you and formed a connection with you. You knew him as the strange masked man who went by "Red Hood", while he knew you as (Y/N) (L/N)....

He knew everything about you.

Jason took pride in being the only one who knew this much about you. He liked being the closest one to you. He wanted to push this feeling within him further.

His obsession had festered in silence until he got bold. He decided it would do you good if he... visited you more often. He resorted to breaking and entering. Fueling his fixation on you more by breaching your privacy.

Then he felt it appropriate to do more. He already stalked you for your safety and info, he already killed anyone who seemed like a threat to you... what else was there to do?

Isolation. Keep you under his watch and his watch only. Then Gotham, or anyone else, can't have you like he can.

Understandably, when you saw him one night hovering over you in your room, you were not fine with this arrangement.

Oh well, you should have better security. You're lucky he's the one breaking in.

"If you want, (Y/N), I can hook you up with some better... locks. Cameras, too. You see, this is Gotham. If I can get in this easily, Imagine who else can?"

You make no sound, only stare at him with fearful eyes. You look like you want to scream but can't. He admits his appearance in your room was rather sudden.

You made fear look cute... although he preferred your smile. Like the day he had saved you... or the countless other times he watched you.

"Please smile for me... don't make me force you...."

The last part was under his breath, a barely audible threat he wasn't sure you'd pick up on. You stare blankly at the man in front of you, the masked man stares back.

It's so quiet....

....

You quickly lunge for your phone, Jason retaliating by knocking it off the bedside table. Jason then quickly spins one of his guns off its holster before pointing it at you. You freeze once again, shocked and frightened by the man you barely knew yet foolishly called a friend.

"Do as I say or I may just have to press this gun closer to your face...."

"...R-Red Hood-"

"Just call me Jason."

Jason has the gun steadily pointed at you. By this point, he was fully aware of how dark his feelings were towards you. This clearly wasn't your normal form of love...

This was his form of love and he liked it. He thought the idea of having you to himself was exhilarating. Even seeing you scared of his barrel made his heart beat.

"Jason, please-"

Hearing you say his name, not his alias, made his feelings intensify. He wanted you to say it more.... Hell, you'll have time to say it more by the time he takes you back to the home he picked for you.

"You're coming with me, (Y/N)."

"Why...?"

"You're always on my mind. Gotham is dangerous even if I do control the crime. With me you'll be much safer. You coming willingly or will I have to have my gun out the whole time? You'd do it for me, right?"

He knows what he's saying is ironic. The safest place in Gotham to be in his mind is with him and he's the one holding a gun to your face. Only more of a confirmation to how corrupt this city and Jason is....

This city corrupted him.

He doesn't want to let it corrupt you too.

"Fine. I'll do it myself."

You're yanked from the comfort of your bed, kicking and screaming. You struggle against him, crying words of betrayal before he whips the back of your head with his gun. Jason sighs, pulling your limp body over his shoulder.

He finally had you...

This city corrupted his sense of love and care...

While this city may not corrupt you itself under his care...

Jason will corrupt you, even if he never meant to.

#yandere dc comics #yandere red hood #yandere jason todd

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noras-dc-shenanigans · 11 months

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Friends | Surprise

Sam and Tucker were acting weird. They hadn’t had any arguments about animals, or meat, or who’s turn it was to have the Doom controller… nothing.

It was suspicious.

And yeah, okay, they were all 16 now, so they could maybe just be getting more mature. Danny, himself, had stopped being a gremlin to Vlad, which after two years had actually messed with the guy more than anything Danny had done, so that was a plus! The Fruitloop had spent the last few months constantly on guard, expecting some prank to befall him. It was fantastic!

But back to Danny’s dilemma.

His friends were acting weird, and Danny couldn’t help but think it was because of the Big Reveal.

No, not Danny telling his parents about Phantom. That had gone well enough, as by then they’d realized that Phantom was helping and sentient, not just a pile of malicious ectoplasm.

No, the Big Reveal had been from Danny parents, who after hearing Danny’s confession has given one of their own:

Danny was adopted. In itself, not a big deal. They were still his family, they all still loved one another, it didn’t really change anything.

No, the Big part of the Reveal had been the fact that his birth father was none other than Bruce Wayne. The Bruce Wayne.

Apparently, as a just-legal adult he’d had a pretty serious thing going on with a woman named Selina Kyle, but she left him at the alter when they were both 20, only for her to discover her pregnancy. By then, Bruce had taken in an orphaned Dick Grayson, and Selina had decided that she didn’t want to overwhelm him with a newborn on top of a nine-year-old. But she also didn’t think she’d make a good parent, but wanted to be sure the baby would be safe and loved and cared for, and so decided to look for a family herself.

Eventually, she’d come across the Fenton’s file on her advocate’s desk, saw that they were rejected due to their ‘line of work’, and decided to check them out.

Anyway, long story short, she liked them, they loved him, Selina used some of her ‘contacts’ to get the paperwork sorted and legalized, and Bam! New baby Daniel Thomas Fenton, ready for action!

… Yeah, Danny thinks Selina was probably into some stuff, and left Bruce because of a scam gone wrong or something.

But again, he’s waaay off topic. His friends are being weird, he’s like 87% positive it’s about his birth parents, and now they’re both obsessively checking their phones like—

Knock knock kno— INTRUDER ALERT! INTRUDER ALERT! INTRU—

“Oh, sorry about that, we must have missed one when we were disabling them. Please, come in!”

Aaaand now there’s apparently people over? From the noise, it’s like five people or so, though they all walk so quietly on the carpeting it’s hard to tell, even with Danny’s enhanced hearing. He turns to ask his friends if they remembered his parents saying something about guests, only to see two identical grins.

‘Uh oh. Those looks combined usually mean bad news for me. Maybe I should take off while I’ve got the chance?’

Unfortunately, his friends knew him too well, and they both instantly blackmailed him with embarrassing Phantom PhailsTM videos.

So stayed he did, and down he went, once his mom called for them. The entire way down the stairs, his friends are grinning and smothering laughs and just generally acting like elementary school all over again.

Taking one, bracing breath, Danny prepares to see whatever the h*ll kind of prank his ‘besties’ have set up for him, and turns the corner into the living room.

…’Is that Bruce f*cking Wayne on our couch?!’

————

Indeed. Indeed it is, along with Dick Grayson, who grins and ruffles his hair; Jason Todd, who offers an eye roll and a fist bump (and hoo-boy, that’s some very corrupted ecto in there, Danny’d better check that later); Tim Drake, who very distractedly shakes his hand before diving back into a conversation with Mom about their security system; and Damien Wayne, who gives him the stink-eye and only very grudgingly shakes Danny’s hand as well after Bruce nudges him into it.

So. That’s a thing, now. Meeting his super-famous estranged family members because his friends thought it’d be good both as a ‘parents-blew-themselves-up-and-Danny’s-not-a-legal-adult’ back-up plan (which, Danny can admit, is necessary, after he’d already had to put out several fires down there this month), and of course, a great prank to play. No doubt Tucker has several videos of Danny’s gaping.

After the awkward introductions comes an even more awkward dinner, though thankfully the atmosphere is due to all around lack of conversation skills and not a re-run of Night of the Living Food. (Thought Danny’s pretty sure he saw the meatballs wiggle a bit)

Eventually, everyone winds up at the front door, with yet even more awkward goodbyes and see-you-laters and a few, yes, awkward hand shakes.

By the time they door closes behind them, with a promise to join Danny and his friends at the mall tomorrow, he has decided one thing, for absolute certain:

‘I am soooo getting them back for this! Watch out for your own surprises, friends.’

————

In case you’re curious:

Bruce- 36

Dick/Barbara- 25

Jason/Jazz- 18

Tim/Steph/Team Phantom- 16

Duke- 14

Damien- 12

#DPxDCFamilyWeek #Danny Fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #the batfamily

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snapdragonsimming · 7 months

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Author's Note and Transcript Under the Cut

(AN: Hello! Thank you for stopping by and checking out my fledgling fundie simblr. I’m by no means new to simblr, but because this blog and story is new, I figure an introduction is due.

So: hey, I’m Talia! I had another fundie simblr a few years back (it’s now inactive for a multitude of reasons), but like a certain someone, I have risen again! My fundie sims obsession was reignited over the summer after I joined a wonderful fundie sims-themed Discord server. Somehow they convinced me to make a new blog, and a few months later, here we are! In the intervening years I continued to lurk, so if you’re an active fundie simblr, I’m probably a fan of your story.

I’ve been playing the de la Cruz family for a while now and they have a special place in my heart- I can’t wait to share them with everyone else! Get ready for lots of God-honoring drama, mildly dubious baby names, and leopard-print modesty undershirts. Note that as the de la Cruzes are fundamentalists and this story is satire-heavy, there will be some viewpoints expressed that I very much disagree with. I’ll trigger tag certain sensitive subjects (e.g. physical violence, miscarriages) as ‘tw [thing]’ but fundie-typical bullshit will go untagged for the sake of my sanity.

Some basic housekeeping stuff to wrap up this far-too-long intro note: I have a queue full of posts ready to go, but I’m a busy student with unpleasant things like homework and AP classes, so I’m still not sure how frequently I’ll post. I’ll do my best to ensure that stays consistent, though, and if you have any questions or comments, please feel free to reach out via my askbox or DMs!)

PRAISING HIM!

Every Sunday, Praising Him! features a family dedicated to spreading the Word. Today we meet the de la Cruzes, a San Sequoian family of 16.

When Alejandro and Alina (née Fletcher) de la Cruz married at nineteen, they could not have imagined what would come next! Over the past twenty-six years, the couple has made faith the centerpiece of their lives, and has continued to “Praise Him!” through the ups and downs of busy family life.

Read more about their family below!

Alejandro, 45, works as a programmer at United Christian Publishers, and holds a Distinguished Degree in Computer Science from Foxbury Christian University. He began his journey into higher education not at 18, like many students, but at 26, shortly after the birth of his seventhborn, Cecilia! Owing to his unique circumstances, he chose to enroll in a six-year program that enabled him to work full-time as a freelance programmer in addition to his courseload. Though money was tight at times, the Lord provided, and Alejandro welcomed five bundles of joy (including a darling set of twins!) with wife Alina while enrolled at Foxbury. Whew!

Alina, 45, has chosen to fulfill God’s design for women by staying at home with her family. Raised in a devout household, she always knew He was calling her toward marriage and motherhood, and she says the “greatest blessing” in her life was the day she gave birth to her eldest son Gabriel, ten months after her wedding day and just shy of her twentieth birthday. In addition to raising and homeschooling the seven de la Cruz children who have yet to graduate, Alina is active in her church and in Institute for Strong Christian Standards (ISCS) circles, and enjoys spending time with her four (soon to be five!) beautiful grandbabies. A true Proverbs 31 woman if we’ve ever seen one!

You may recognize Gabriel de la Cruz and his lovely wife Esther, 23, from last summer’s print edition of Praising Him! At just 25, Gabriel is a rising star in the Christian legal world, coming to the aid of innocent Simericans simply trying to practice their faith. Ten months ago, they welcomed their first little girl, Abigail, and just last week they announced the upcoming arrival of their second child! Congratulations to them.

Althea Brown (née de la Cruz), 24, is following in her mother’s footsteps and proud of it! The young woman, who wed husband John-David, 28, three years ago, resides in Newcrest and is a content stay-at-home-mother of two.

Jasmine Booth (née de la Cruz), 23, known to friends and family as “Jazzy,” is enjoying the bliss of new parenthood alongside her husband of two years, Jason!

The first set of de la Cruz twins, Joshua and Sofia, 21, are both unattached and living at home. Sofia is pursuing a calling in missionary work, and Joshua is hard at work saving money and praying for his future family. “If you’re reading this as a young Christian woman,” Sofia jests, “have your father write into Praising Him! and I’ll set up a date with Josh!”

Caterina de la Cruz, 20, is diligently knitting, crocheting, sewing, embroidering, and cross-stitching her way through her season of singleness! Though she prays every day for her Prince Charming (nonbelievers need not apply!), she assures Praising Him! that she’s quite content to assist her mother in running the busy de la Cruz household in the interim.

Cecilia de la Cruz, 18, the only unmarried de la Cruz not living at home, declined to comment.

The rest of the de la Cruz children, who range in age from 8 to 17, are kept busy with homeschooling, ISCS conferences, music practice, and Bible study.

If you would like to get in touch with the de la Cruz family, click here to send a message!

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sirensskai · 3 months

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My Ripp Grunt headcanons

It was about time I put them all in one place because as you can tell I’m obsessed with him and have a lot😭 Some of them might make no sense whatsoever or sound weird or are probably me just projecting but who cares lol. If I forget any or think of more I’ll add them later. Also it’s going to be really long…

Anyway… “So Kai, how much do you like Ripp???”

Me:

Birthday

I have come up with a birthday for Ripp. December 13, 1988. (Yes I know December 13 is the same date as Taylor Swift lol.) He is a Sagittarius (that’s canon but that’s why I picked that birthday). I see sims 2 Strangetown as starting in 2005 and he was age 16-17 back then. He’s a year and several months younger than Tank and 4 years older than Buck.

Height

Kind of short for a guy, about 5.5. Tank and Johnny are significantly taller and he hates it.

Identity

He is bisexual and transmasculine. Maybe non binary too, specifically a non binary man (like a demiboy or something.)

Ripp has always been attracted to all genders. He doesn’t really care about that (can fit pansexual too.) He is open to seeing multiple people at once so is polyamorous too. Which can be one way of explaining the romance aspiration. And yes, he has a crush on both Ophelia and Johnny.

He is transgender and knew something was up from an early age. Like a lot of transmasc people he went down the “tomboy” to trans pipeline. He didn’t fully realise what being trans meant and that that was what he was until he was about 14 though. Ripp chose his name himself, idc. He thought it was cool.

Johnny and Ophelia were very supportive of him being trans. He had them at school when the bullies found something new to pick on. As was his mum Lyla who he is very close to. Buck didn’t fully understand at first because of being really young but is still very supportive. (Also Buck ended up becoming Rebecca and is transfem herself but that’s another character headcanon lol) Lyla helped him start HRT.

General Buzz though… I don’t see General Buzz as entirely transphobic. I think he’s the kind of person to prefer having sons, but is still weird about Ripp being trans. He is kind of against it at first but gets used to it. He would also want Ripp to be a man in the “right” way (based on a Tumblr post I saw.) He messes up pronouns sometimes but at least tries. He still thinks Ripp is a fucking lazy ass disappointment overall though 😭 “yeah you are trans or bi, whatever, but you are still my worst son ever.” I think he would be more concerned if any guy Ripp dated was an alien over the fact they were a guy (oops, he already has a crush on Johnny Smith.) General Buzz’s conflicting views about Ripp with Lyla also contributed to those two’s strained relationship. He sees a lot of Lyla in Ripp, in both appearance and personality and he hates being reminded of her.

Tank was in a similar position of getting used to it over time. Didn’t mean he stopped wanting to beat his ass all the time though. He had some internalised stuff he had to deal with himself though (being his own person with his own wishes and also, gay.)

Ripp took Lyla disappearing very hard, especially since she was the one helping with his transition. He was on his own. Things got complicated because General Buzz was still kind of unsupportive. Ripp snuck out for several days to get top surgery by himself and General Buzz was very angry about that.

Personality

He’s a very sweet person overall. He’s friendly with almost everyone and hates conflict, but if he is confronted he loves taking the piss out of them. He’s very positive most of the time despite his terrible life. Very talkative and can go on and on. Tries to make a joke and lighten the mood with just about everything, including himself, even if he does go too far sometimes (which he instantly feels bad about if he makes someone sad.) Definitely swears a lot which his father hates, but he loves annoying his father.

Relationships

I don’t think he has a bad relationship with his father and Tank forever. They make up at one point and maybe they don’t become really close but they at least get along somewhat again (no horrible PSP ending in my sims game.)

He was very close with Lyla, probably the most out of all three of Lyla’s sons so he was devastated when she left, and even more so when he found out she died. One of the few supportive people in his life and she was gone.

Him and Buck (or Rebecca later) are very close due to them both having a strained relationship with General Buzz. Rebecca looks up to Ripp a lot. Also they end up both being transgender which they make a joke out of later. “I can’t believe we’re both Grunts and trans.)

He’s been friends with Ophelia and Johnny since middle school. He hangs out with them a lot and prefers being with them to being at home. He loves being an idiot with Johnny but is sweet with Ophelia. He fell in love with Ophelia first then Johnny.

He met Lilith after she also ran away from home. The two became close because of that. They love poking fun at each other. He’s afraid Lilith will make fun of him if he tells her he likes her (but Lilith likes him too.)

Self insert time, he’s really sweet around Lana. Ripp talks a lot and Lana barely talks at all due to their extreme shyness but he doesn’t mind. He cares for them a lot. He is the most calm and gentle to them and loves listening to them ramble about their interests. He might want to marry her.

Music Career

Ripp was always interested in music, mostly rock music but he is open to other genres as well. I see him as being very into Nirvana. He started playing guitar at school with Johnny Smith, covering their favourite songs. Lyla got him own guitar, and he also started writing his own songs, uploading them to MySpace or something.

At one point he runs away from home and gets a trailer for himself. Away from his father, he has a lot more freedom to do what he wants with his life. He’s still working at the gas station and going to a lot of music labels and he eventually gets signed to one. He has his first major song released through them.

Ripp is the lead singer and guitarist in a band as well as a soloist, with Johnny Smith, Lilith Pleasant and Mercutio Monty, the last two he meets and befriends at one point. (Idk what to name this band yet lol.) Johnny also plays guitar, Lilith is the bassist and Mercutio plays the drums.

His music style is very diverse. And I’m also going to base them off Lana Del Rey albums and songs because why not. His very early work is very acoustic. The first ep and debut album he releases has influences of grunge, surf rock and psychedelic rock. A lot of guitar sounds. And whatever sounds come out of AKA Lizzy Grant.

He goes through some tough things in life which is why he takes a break between his debut and his second album. The sound of this album is quite different. Still guitar heavy but also very slowed, dark and psychedelic. Probably some of his most depressing songs ever. Definitely has a song calling out General Buzz. His Ultraviolence era. It’s a little bit of a concept album too, there’s some sort of storyline throughout. He wears black eyeliner on stage.

The next album is experimental, a little bit of the style of his first album back with the guitar but also some trap beats in there. If I could describe it in a Lana Del Rey song it would be Freak Like Me Demo. Also the most horny album. Bisexual anthem in there though.

The latest album I’ve imagined for Ripp (idk why I’ve imagined all these albums for a sims 2 premade, please help) he explores pop. Lust for Life era (I’m still drawing that, I have a vision.) It’s a lot more uplifting than his previous work and it changes the world. Also somewhat of a horny album too. He dies the ends of his hair purple.

Ripp moves to Del Sol Valley at one point when he becomes a celebrity and gets a house in the pinnacles.

He is definitely very popular in terms of being attractive. There are people making thirst TikToks of him and writing self insert fanfiction and everything. (Couldn’t be me. /s) Some fans are really obsessed with him. To the point they would leak his unreleased music and post it everywhere which is unfortunate but some of them are so good (I’m writing a fic based on this.)

He also does campaigns and advertisements and things as part of being a celebrity, there’s a billboard or magazine cover somewhere where he’s modelling underwear 🙏 And he also hopes it annoys his dad if he sees it and recognises his face lol

His social medias would be hilarious and he would also own terrible people.

Other random hcs

I think Ripp was an unplanned child. Lyla was happy to have him but General Buzz not so much, he kind of hated Ripp from day 1.

He was a “problem child” at least in General Buzz’s eyes and also the schools he went to where he had behaviour issues and struggled to focus. His dad made him see a psychologist. He’s autistic (or aspergers back in the late 90s-early 2000s, also I don’t think General Buzz is the most up to date) and has ADHD. I don’t think this helped with General Buzz already seeing him as a disappointment. Ripp gets really fixated on music (both certain artists and creating it) or certain tv shows or very unconventional things that are kind of uncomfortable for some people. Like literally just the subject of woohoo interests him and he wants to know everything about it lol. I think he fixates on philosophical stuff too like death and the purpose of life (another thing that can lead to some uncomfortable conversations.) Very unlike the stereotype of autism because he’s really outgoing and social too, but it is a spectrum.

I think he shows a lot of affection through touch.

Really dark hc but… 😭 Although he pretends it doesn’t, I think the terrible relationship he has with General Buzz and Tank, as well as Lyla disappearing and dying did really affect him. Has depression and some self esteem and emotional issues and fears abandonment. He has considered *unaliving* before. Also a weird relationship with food. Although he has max interest in food, and he eats a lot of food (but mostly junk food) he grew up with the pressure to remain thin. The dark period of his life between his first two albums involved that and he may have abused substances too. I’m a terrible person, I’m sorry 😭. The romance sim part of him might have spawned from craving the love he didn’t get at home. He feels undeserving of a real relationship but deep down that’s what he actually wants.

I am sorry to him for giving him all these traumatising hcs but I can’t help myself. He was bullied in his school years 🥲 The psp secret of him being afraid of toilets from “one too many swirlies as a child” is to do with this. Tank was involved too maybe, but I don’t believe it was all down to him and he’s a terrible person. With the trans headcanon, I think he was picked on by both boys and girls. Girls didn’t like him for being “weird” and boys would go out of their way to hurt him for trying to fit in with them.

Due to General Buzz being in the millitary, he travelled to a lot of places and moved around a lot prior to going back to middle school in Strangetown. I think he would become interested in different cultures and pick up some words of different languages. He lived in Tomerang at one point.

Ripp is kind of feminine. He isn’t afraid to like “feminine” things and he loves jewellery and painting his nails.

He has a brow piercing and a septum.

He gets a sleeve tattoo.

Has rarely ever cut his hair in his life, he lets it grow really long and he doesn’t care. He would hate for all of his hair to just be chopped off (and that’s also what his father wants)

Smokes, both cigarettes and weed. Tries to stop smoking the cigarettes later on though. Him, Johnny and Ophelia get stoned together and sometimes Lana if she’s willing.

He’s quite arty (his canonical one true hobby is set to arts and crafts.) Spends a lot of his time drawing anything from animals to horny “anatomy” pictures because why not. He takes art when he attends college.

Ripp is a great father. Idc about that romance aspiration, just because he has that doesn’t mean he’s a deadbeat father 😭 Like I’ve said before, that sounds like Don Lothario but not Ripp. His nice points are too high for that. Also being like his own dad would be the last thing he wants to be. He really cares for any kids he has, and the people pregnant with the kids. He would be a really fun dad, maybe a little permissive. Basically the opposite of General Buzz (and also how I think Lyla was.) He also cares for people in general instead of just wanting woohoo out of them.

Ripp is left handed. Sims 4 actually set him up as left handed for me lol. Left handed guitars are unavailable to him to start with so he’s forced to learn right handed 😰 But later on he gets a left handed guitar and plays amazing.

He has a tooth gap.

Cat person. General Buzz, Tank and Rebecca are all drawn to dogs but Ripp is the only cat lover 😭 He gets a havana or a maine coon (or both.)

I think Ripp fits the pleasure aspiration more than the romance aspiration to be honest. An aspiration that involves some romance but also not being a total sleaze and wanting to relax and have fun sounds more like him. It fits Lyla too (another reason why they were so close is that they had very similar personalities.) Another aspiration that fits is popularity, he’s just a very friendly person who loves making friends.

Songs that remind me of Ripp:

#sims 2 #ts2 #Ripp grunt #I hope you enjoy this entire essays worth of headcanons #I’m literally insane about him #my headcanons #Ripp Grunt autism at it again #SoundCloud

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trickscourse · 28 days

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Are you okay?

No, not really ngl.

Two extremely hypocritical people ( @redtailfatfish & @transfemmes ) have been riding my ass based on lies for the past few days, I had to cut off a longterm friend of 6+ years because she used me as a figurehead to harass people and someone who is a more obsessive freak than I could've imagined is trying to convince a majority of my friends, mutuals and my side of tungle I blamed them for their CSA while under the same breath they've mocked mine, repeatedly.

Someone, probably Jack has been roleplaying as me to get people to purposely break my boundaries so almost everyone in their circle can do. something. I don't know. I'm so anal or paranoid about people screenshotting me because people on here have put my face onto CP before, or edited my skin white or just edited my messages to say the most vile shit possible.

I've been saying this for weeks. I don't care about Jack, I barely know Jack. I may not like her but I wouldn't go out of my way to mock her trauma or blame her for it, something she can't do to me apparently. In the messages sent, I wasn't sure if the entire situation was true and Jack phrased it as if she was blaming herself if anything.

All I heard was that Jack lied about her teacher committing suicide, nothing about her being in any sort of inappropriate relationship with him. On my end, I thought it was a crush and a kid during 2016 being overdramatic.

Nobody said at any point she was in the wrong for being abused, nobody knew it was abuse because of the minimal information we had about anything involving it and the conversation moved on later on to something else.

All the information we had was that one person said she had a crush on he teacher and she used to write fanfic about him. Most kids have crushes on their teachers, at least I and a few friends did growing up. Since everyone was 15-16 around that time we mostly didn't know what grooming was, and we only knew one part of the story from someone else Jack tormented and hurt badly.

Never, ever would I blame a victim for being abused by someone who holds power over them when I'm a victim of CSA myself and have attempted to get a profession that stops predators from continuing to hurt others.

I've been running away from two different stalkers for the past maybe 6 years and nobody takes them seriously for one reason or another or they outright dismiss all of my trauma with them because of one reason or another. Mostly it's just personal bias.

This entire time I've been begging Sunny and Jack to respect my boundaries (not talking about me, taking screenshots or mentioning my family) and to just leave me alone.

If Jack wants to lie and ignore the fact she spammed my friends (I have no access to the blog and it blocked it from my main, @haupkmn and they will occasionally reblog things from me that I can't see in my notifications) with very, very graphic self harm pics and dozens of threats about my family.

By no means do I want to "silence" anyone nor do I think "doxxing" Jack was right. It wasn't right of me to ask someone else in the chat for any information on how to get a restraining order, even with public information.

By some means or another I thought it was "even ground" since she's admitted to downloading videos of me trying to find where I work, after shes contacted two of my jobs already to harass them and lie about me.

I want a restraining order or a non-contact order. I want her AWAY from me. I want Sunny, who keeps joking about the accident that forced me into a wheelchair for life and made DISGUSTING comments about the woman who raised me who's sexually abused to stop talking about me.

Even when all of this that's happened, I will still repeat again and again that I'm in the wrong and my actions weren't okay. I never said they were and I'm not proud of them, even with Jack manipulating the situation to her advantage for pity points when there's several screenshots of her admitting to getting my family's contact info via a third party and mailing things to them.

I'm asking to be left alone because my sibling figure got dragged into this, and people are going out of their way to harass my IRL friends and family. Tbh I doubt anyone's going to read this and will just say "wow that's crazy" or accuse me of yapping but. I'm not innocent. Please leave me alone.

#text post #cuppytowncity #haupkmn #tricksterexe

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crplpunkklavier · 11 months

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obsessed with how klavier's canon timeline just fully makes no sense.

his trial against phoenix is his first, right. at this point, the gavinners are already famous enough to perform expensive concerts, due to their debut single hitting platinum overnight. we don't know when this happened, just that it had to be before the gramarye trial, because klavier talks about it there. ok.

when kristoph talks to him before the trial, in the flashback, we briefly see klavier's office, that already seems to have guitars all over the wall. that's not necessarily an inconsistency, it just means that even before he ever went to court, klavier had that office, and enough money to cram it full of guitars, which also suggests they aren't necessarily like a carefully curated collection, but were in fact just some 16~17 year old guy who just got a lot of money and bought 50 guitars at once in some sort of teenage frenzy.

we also don't know when exactly he took the bar exam, only that he took it in europe. obviously, it was before that first trial, so he might have even been younger than 17, but we don't know.

my favorite part, though, is that he says that daryan was the first detective he'd ever worked with, which can also mean a number of really weird things. clearly, the gavinners existed before klavier started prosecuting, so,

either he knew daryan before daryan was a detective, and they started the band together and then both also started into their law enforcement lives, in which case its hilariously strange of klavier to say that he was the first detective he ever worked with. like, i guess, but you also knew him when you were in high school.

or the gavinners existed without daryan for a short time, which seems unlikely, but would also be really funny given they had a platinum hit without this dude then. and then klavier starts working with a detective and is like hey you should join my glam rock band. yeah youve heard of us

or klavier worked with him on a case he just didnt prosecute, either because it didnt go to trial, or maybe he worked on it for school or something, which then implies that either daryan somehow made detective before he hit 20, or daryan is SEVERAL years older than klavier. which, according to canon ages, he is not. they're the same age. but maybe daryan pretends to be 5 years younger or something. wouldn't put it past him. or he pretended to be older with a fake ID so they'd let him into the force (also hilarious). because we know daryan didn't study abroad, since he canonically has never left the country.

and then lastly there's the fact that it is heavily implied that klavier just.... stopped prosecuting after the gramarye trial. or at least the judge hadn't seen him around in a while, and klavier doesn't deny that he was absent, allegedly because his band got so big. we're made to believe that he only returns once he hears of apollo, and yet his office looks the exact same, as far as we can see in pictures. which once again leaves us with two possibilities: klavier's office was left completely untouched for 7 years, or he moved out of there after one trial, and then came back 7 years later and decided, yep, i should put my guitars up again the exact same way i did when i was 17.

there's also a thousand other ways of reading all this really. i honestly think this was all just the writers sort of winging it, and it's not like the mason system doesn't fully fuck up the timeline in that game anyway, so i don't think any of these are any more or less canon than others. they're just fun theories to play around with. what the fuck was this guy doing.

#imco #????#aa4 is SO SO clever and precise in places and then in other places youre like #youre picking up the edge of a rug and find that they swept a full cosmos under there #ace attorney

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slocumjoe · 1 year

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⚡Gage Catchup Lightning Round⚡

Since I haven't written him in every post, just going back and giving him his very own variety hour of everything he's missed

Biggest complaint about writing; I absolutely hate that the Minutemen can't be recognized as the absolute juggernauts that you can turn them into. It's everywhere in the game, but with Gage, in particular, its such a missed opportunity. I talked about this in earlier but just know I still hate it. Nuka World on a Minutemen playthrough is kind of a flop in general. You go there, you kill everything, done. Being able to confront Gage with a Minutemen army that blows the dick off of any raider gang he's ever seen in comparison is, like, a golden goose egg. But its fine 🙃

Sole breaks down crying in his arms; 1/10 C.C, 0/10 I.C. Doesn't matter what kind of relationship they have. Gage was not the person to do this out of the blue to. If they're close, he'll care, and want to help, but tough shit, he's Porter Gage. He's not meant for that kind of stuff. Maybe if he had a lead up, some kind of warning, he'd be better suited to...not be useless. Honestly, most likely companion to straight up duck when they go for him, flip them over on the ground. If he lets them, Gage keeps his arms and face up, stares at the ceiling and pretends it isn't happening. That's if they're close. If they aren't, whether they're mostly strangers or just buddies, you're getting flipped like a pancake.

1 headcanon; Stress eater, but doesn't want to waste food as a nervous tic, so settles for smoking. Keeps his mouth busy. Will also chew on shit, like necklace chains or pens.

2 headcanons;

Was very close with his family until the day he left. It wasn't a growing resentment, it was an epiphany one day after a raid. Before that one day, no one would have ever thought that Porter, who was shaping up to be a fine young man, a good older brother, great with the cows and goats, would run off in the night, and later become a raider. Was a momma's boy, always helping her around the house. Especially close to his grandparents, got a lot of his personality from his crotchety ass grandfather who rarely had a good thing to say about anyone. Except Porter. Porter was the favorite child.

Never returned home because he knew, for a fact, that his name was going around after the Conner incident, and the idea of seeing his family when they knew what he was now, made him sick to his fucking stomach. He says he doesn't care. But 16 year old Porter Gage sat in a backroom of an old bar with a cold beer to his now-blind eye, and bawled.

Physique headcanons; Dad bod for daaaayyys. Strong, lean arms, very broad shoulders, tiny little waist and hips. Taller, 6 feetish. Toned body but with a softer belly. His hands are square, veiny, boney, and have long fingers. Scarred around the nails from chewing obsessively he was younger. Not about physique, but about his body, so; has tattoos. Very simple designs, your basic tribal patterns on the torso and shoulders. Would get more if he wasn't older, and now smart enough to be wary of strange needles. Missing more teeth than he's comfortable with. Lot of body hair all around, but centered mostly on his chest and happy trail. As for the eye, the injury was the fusion cell on his rifle getting shot and blowing up...as he was aiming down the ironsight. The eye is still there, just completely fucked and useless. The skin is obviously burned, and becomes itchy and painful in colder weather. Needs the patch so he doesn't scratch or rub it. Doesn’t use laser weapons anymore. Insecure about his appearance if in a meaningful relationship, even more so if his partner really is, as he says, a stunner.

Laughing headcanons; Doesn’t laugh often, keeps that shit to himself. But...if you can catch him, his laugh is very rough, snorting, lots of little catches of breath. Crosses his arms and covers his mouth when laughing. His eyes squint heavily, and his crows feet are much more noticeable. His laughing is on the quieter side, snickering to himself. But if its a full-blown fit, will tear up laughing. Wheezy. Kind of seal-like in his laughing-laughing.

Variety NSFW headcanons; Bit on the bigger side but not enough to be worrying. Has a scar on his dick, under the foreskin. Will not explain because he himself has no fucking idea. B.O IS SO FUCKING BAD. Would die happy if given a titjob. Once crossdressed for a partner and has to take a moment to cringe every time he remembers it. Not the crossdressing thing, the guy he was fucking. Not someone worth doing that for. If he's in a shower, he's jerking off. Its like...the only reason he takes them.

#fo4 #fallout 4 #companions react #porter gage

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kaylawritess · 1 year

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sypnosis: When Steve told you he wanted six kids, you thought he was joking. Spoiler! he wasn't.

Dad Steve Harrington.

"Steve do you really want six kids?" You ask, a little worried considering you're 9 months pregnant and about to pop and he's already talking about your second.

"Oh yeah. All girls too. Though a mini Steve doesn't sound too bad." He says, flicking through a magazine with his hand on your thighs that are draped over his lap.

"I'm not promising you six kids. If this one's gives us hell you best believe you're getting the snip." You say pointing at his croch and he winces when he thinks of it.

"I'd obviously never force you but doesn't a van full of kids sound fun? Never a dull moment in the Harrington house." He adds with a happy look on his face.

Little did you know your first daughter was hours away from being born.

21/11/87, The first Harrington daughter, Sylvie Harper Harrington, was born.

"She's so cute." You say, your eyes welling up with tears from holding your daughter for the first time.

"She won't stay this small forever." Steve complains, a sob leaving his mouth and you hear Robin's cackle from the side of the room.

"I'm not saying now but when she starts walking maybe we could have another one?" You cave and Steve looks up smiling.

"Really?" His eyes have such excitement and love filling them, how could you ever say no to him?

Steve was whipped. He knew he loved you but seeing you give birth to his child and raise her had him obsessed with you.

So it wasn't much of a suprise that 6 months after Sylvie's birth you were staring at positive pregnancy test.

16/2/89, the second Harrington girl was born. Her name being Juno Faye Harrington.

Both the Harrington girls gave their parents hell. You and Steve thought you were done with kids.

Steve was upset but he knew he would always love his girls but he never felt like their family was complete.

You weren't trying. But 4 years after Juno was born you were sat in a random diner, on the way to Iowa to visit your parents, which already had you nervous since they hadn't met Juno yet, the two lines on the pregnancy test didn't help to calm your nerves either.

4/11/93, the third Harrington was born. You and Steve hadn't thought of names after your other two girls made you not want more kids so after a very stressful pregnancy and a few days of thinking after she was born, Aven Samantha Harrington was finally named.

Juno and Sylvie were obsessed with their little sister. So was Steve. He missed the getting up at night and seeing you feed his daughters.

He missed seeing you getting excited over the tiny milestones.

It was you who brought up the idea of a 4th child.

Aven was one and a half when you started trying, you knew Steve was fertile but 9 months after you were heavily pregnant and trying to figure out a name.

"Why didn't we just find our the gender?" You ask with a huff, throwing the baby book down on the floor, but quietly not wanting to wake your daughters.

"We both know it's a girl. I'm incapable of having boys, not that I mind. I love my girls." He looks over to you and you have a look on your face.

"Livia! If it's a girl can we pleaseeee call her Livia?" You beg. Even going as far as to clasp your hands together.

"You're acting like I'd say no to you. Of course we can. What if it's a little boy though?" He says, rubbing your belly with a smile.

"Junie said we have to name him Wells." You smile, not hating the name at all.

"Hi Livia or Wells." Steve leans down and kissed your stomach.

4 days later, 22/1/96 Livia Rose Harrington was welcomed to the world.

Now with 4 kids life was more hectic then ever. Sylvie was 8 and wasn't happy sharing a room with Juno anymore. So they were house hunting.

What didn't help was Aven kept pointing at your stomach saying babies were in there.

"Aven, if mommy's pregnant why isn't she big?" You asked your sweet daughter with a sigh, trying to get her to go to sleep.

"Because the boys are only little mommy." She says, pushing her face into your chest while you sigh

That night, 6 months after the birth of Livia, you were sat on the toilet with a positive test in your hand. Just like you were 7 years ago with Juno.

On the 28th of May, 1997, you gave birth to twin boys. You also got your tubes tied that day.

Your boys, Lux Becker and Wells Elliot Harrington were born.

You and Steve agreed no more kids at the appointment when you found out it was twins.

Steve got his van full of kids and you got to feel like your family was complete.

Growing up in the house, there was never a quiet moment. Whether it was Sylvie kicking her younger siblings out of her room and then playing Metallica as loudly as she could (Eddie always gave her Cds)

Or Juno crying about how she can't figure out what to draw next and needs to call her uncle Dustin right at that very moment, didn't matter if it was 2am.

Or even Aven running after Steve with her makeup begging to make him pretty or asking if her she could go to a makeup store.

And Livia, their quietest child would have her nose in a book while her younger brothers ran around throwing baseballs at their dad who always had a smile on his face.

When Sylvie came and told you both that she was expecting at 18, just as you were 18 years ago. Steve broke out in tears.

Excited to be there for a whole new newborn stage and to be a grandpa.

Robin never let him live it down.

"Dude you're a whole grandpa at 37!" She teased and Steve's eyes welled up with tears again.

"My baby is so grown up." He sobbed and you rolled your eyes, moving yourself in front of him.

"Honey, you really have to stop crying when anyone brings it up. You cried in Cosco yesterday." He shoves his head into your shoulder, his body shaking as he cries.

"Mommy! My water broke!" You hear Sylvie say and Steve stands up so fast you stagger back slightly.

Sylvie waddles downstairs with her hospital bag in hand.

"Steve start timing her contractions. Sylvie come sit down we won't be going anywhere until your daddy calms down." You sit your daughter down and rub her back, letting her squeeze your hand through her contractions.

You look up at Robin and she's already nodding, knowing you're asking her to watch the other 5.

"Steve. Honey, snap out of it. Go start the car please."

"I'm gonna be a grandpa!"

...

Cute lil Steve fluff!!

#steve harrington #steve harrington fluff #stranger things #stranger things imagine #steve harrington x you

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bad268 · 1 year

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Hi! So for a request for ransoms characters you would write for would you write something for either Michael Gray x reader of Finn Shelby x reader where reader gets a camera and is super excited to show it to her bf. So she goes and takes a bunch of photos 1 day with him of random things (him, his friends, the car, Cyril, etc) later when she’s developing them she realises that he took some cute photos of her and him when she wasn’t looking❤️❤️

Anything for You (Michael Gray X Reader)

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Requested: Clearly (I strayed a little, but I hope you still like it <3 Also, happy new year everybody!)

Warnings: none.

Pronouns: You/Your

W.C. 1441

Summary: The reader (gn) gets a new camera for their birthday, and they receive a surprise upon developing the pictures.

As always, my requests and ships are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Google/Peaky Characters)

You were a photographer at heart, that’s what everyone told you. You had taken an interest in photography when you were really young. Your parents had an obsession with getting family pictures every year, but you hated how big and heavy the cameras were. When you turned 16, Kodak revealed a small, handheld, portable version of his original camera. You bought the cheapest one you could find, and the rest was history.

You knew this would be how you make a living for yourself; by taking pictures, and it was through this that you met your boyfriend, Michael. He had been looking to get some pictures made for his mom and came across you at a nearby market. You were already taking pictures of the landscape, so he just approached you.

“Do you do that professionally?” He asked.

Being only 17 at the time, you shook your head. “No, I’m not. Just practicing, but hopefully, one day I will be able to do it professionally,” You answered with a smile.

“Oh no worries, love,” he responded with a smile as well before holding his hand out, “My name is Michael Johnson. Who might you be?”

“Oh, I’m Y/N L/N,” You shook his hand. He pulled it up to place a kiss on your knuckles.

“If you’d be interested in practicing portraits, my mother is looking to get some family pictures done soon,” He offered, and the rest was history.

You were by his side for everything from his brother’s birthday to when his apparent ‘uncle’ showed up at the farm. You stayed by his side even when he moved to Small Heath with his birth mother, Polly, and became a member of the Peaky Blinders. While it may not have been the safest option for him, you stayed by his side through it all.

And even though he was in a dangerous gang, that did not stop you from continuing your passion, and he did not try to stop you. He actually encouraged it! He knew how hectic and demanding his family was, so anytime you could sneak away to do what you loved to do was a semblance of normality.

However, you noticed that your camera was starting to deteriorate, so you made a small comment about it to Michael. You said how the pictures were not coming out as clear as they used to, and it was just a generally old camera. Almost immediately after you mentioned it, Michael ran to the store in search of a brand new camera for your birthday. He ended up finding a prototype Kodak that looked more advanced than any other camera he had ever seen, so he was excited to see your reaction.

“Happy birthday, my love,” He greeted you with a kiss as soon as you woke up. You returned the kiss as you sat up in the bed. “How did you sleep?”

“Great, I had you next to me the whole night,” You laughed back, placing a kiss on his cheek. “But what are we doing today? Family meeting or something illegal?”

“No,” He chuckled while shaking his head. He leaned back to grab a wrapped box from under his bed. Then, he handed it over to you. “Start with this.”

“You didn’t need to get me anything, love!” You exclaimed, ripping through the packaging immediately. He laughed at your antics as he collected the wrapping. Once you registered what it was, you let out a gasp, “No way! This must’ve cost a fortune!”

“That’s for me to know, and you to never find out,” He laughed, pulling you into his arms. He place a few kisses on your temples as you buried your face in his neck, muttering ‘thank you’s. “I’d do anything for you, love. Now, come on! Let’s go take some pictures!”

You did not need to be told twice as you were out of the bed and in the restroom in a blink of an eye, and you two were on your out the door within 20 minutes. You took his hand and led him through the streets on Small Heath. Passing by the betting shop, the Garrison, and you did not stop until you reached the waterfront because that was one place you had always wanted to take pictures.

“Go,” You pointed toward the shoreline. Michael looked skeptical, but before he could complain, you continued, “You are my muse. If I want my first pictures on my new camera to be of you, who are you to stand in my way?” That was all it took for him to be convinced.

You were out there all day. You were taking as many pictures as possible before the sun went down, and once it did, you both made your way to the Garrison where you met up with his cousins and mother for drinks.

Unfortunately, the next day, you had to get back to work. The betting shop was not going to run itself, and Michael needed to get back to his Peaky Blinders business. What you did not know was that Michael was working in the betting shop that day, and he dedicated his time to taking candid photos of you throughout the day. Polly, Esme, and Lizzie caught him a few times, but he signaled them to not say anything. You would just randomly hear them laughing before suddenly stopping when you ask them what is so funny.

You tried to ask Michael about his day when you go back to his room, but he just responded with extremely vague terms. That just made you assume that it was a bad day, so you did not press him any further. Climbing into bed, you let it go.

About a week later, you remembered all of the pictures you took at the waterline, and decided you would go get the pictures developed. You went to a little shop around the corner from the Garrison to get them printed. The lady running the shop said she would expedite your prints, but it would still take a couple of days to get them all. Confused as you did not remember taking that many pictures, you still accepted before leaving.

You stopped at the Garrison where Michael, Isaiah, and Finn were laughing at one of the tables, so you decided to join them for a drink. Polly and Esme did not expect you back at the shop for another hour, so you had time to kill.

“What made you stop by here?” Michael asked, throwing his arm around your shoulder as you took a drink of his whiskey. “Hey, that’s mine! If you want one, get your own!”

“I don’t want a whole drink,” You deadpanned, “Plus, I still need to go back to the shop after this. I was getting photos developed, but the lady said she couldn’t get ‘em all done today, so I’ll have to go back in a couple of days.”

“Oh,” he laughed.

“You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” You accused.

“No, I don't think I do.”

Well, he lied. When you went back to pick up the developed photos three days later, you saw the pictures of Michael you took on your birthday as well as some candid pictures of you around the betting shop. Some were really cute and some were random but you knew immediately that Michael had taken all of them.

You were sitting on your bed, looking through the pictures, when Michael walked in. As soon as he registered what was in your hands, he started laughing as the first one he saw was you yawning. “You like those pictures, love?”

“I won't lie, some are cute,” You admitted as he sat next to you looking through all of the pictures. You ended up finding one that was stuck to the back of another one, and it was a candid of you and Michael. He was caging you in with his arms against the wall as he kissed your forehead. Immediately, you knew Polly or Esme must have taken it as it was taken from the end of the corridor. “This one, though. This one is my favorite.”

“That one is pretty cute,” He said, taking it from you, and leaning it on your vanity. “Is it safe to assume you like the camera?”

“Like it? I love it! Michael, I love you so much! Thank you for the best gift ever,” You said, setting the photos to the side as you buried yourself in his side. He returned the hug, placing multiple kisses along the crown of your head.

“Anything for you, love.”

~~~~~

#michael gray x reader #michael gray imagine #michael gray x y/n #michael gray x you #peaky blinders #peaky fookin blinders #bad268 #ship268 #thing268

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