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watery-lane · 3 years

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Words into Smoke

The Night You Cared Sequel.

Pairing: Modern!Ivar Lothbrok x Reader

Summary: As a part of his therapy, Ivar writes letters to unwind and keep track of his mental health progress. He writes to his mom, he misses her. He writes to Sigurd, sometimes he regrets his departure. One night, he writes about her.

Warnings: Angst

Words: 3864

A/N: (3/5/20) I had this idea in my head that I simply could not let go.

(10/4/21) P.S: Can’t promise I’m back, but I’m definitely turning to writing as a way of winding down. I hope you guys are alright.

Part I / Part II / Epilogue

Some nights, while the city sleeps, Ivar stays awake. Like an owl looking for a prey, the Ragnarsson remains seated upright at the edge of his bed, his now heavily tattooed chest exposed to the world through the panoramic window, heaving. Beating.

Some nights were amazing. He got his drivers license, and Freydis got him an adapted Bentley as a gift. He would spend the nights driving by himself down the empty streets of Kattegat, not worrying about speeding tickets or angry neighbours.

Not so long ago, he learned his wife was finally carrying a child, her round belly reminding him that he had a legacy to keep, now that the Lothbrok dynasty seemed to be more fragmented than ever. After spending thousands of krone on in vitro fertilisation, the universe seemed to work in his favour. Their favour. If the gods were unwilling to bless them two, science would. These were the nights that were made for celebrations, champaign showers and water for the mother to be.

Some nights were alright. Ivar would come back after a long day of meetings and getting his ass kissed, to find Freydis immersed in her little personal projects. He would tell Erik to pick up some takeaway while he washed away the power and wrapped himself in mundane clothes. He would eat in silence, elbows propped on the counter and eyes on the horizon, watching the sun kiss the skyscrapers goodbye as he mindlessly put food in his mouth. Then he would take his new baby for a ride, to the bar he now owned with his brother Hvitserk.

Ivar would go there, check the inventory and the register, ask the employees how everything was going and what could he do for them. Sometimes he would also find Hvitserk at the bar, practicing the cocktail skills he had been mastering since he took over your share of the bar. Ivar would simply walk past, not entirely avoiding making contact with his sibling but prefering to keep a healthy distance from the person that substituted you. He started visiting the local more often after you left, feeling the responsibility to continue what you started. He found peace in the simplicity of managing a bar: at the office, he was a tyrannic boss, voice always booming through the walls, keeping both employees and investors in check. At the bar, he was just the young lovestruck Ivar he once was. He understood then, why you wished to escape from it all. You are just a memory now, but sometimes he still feels you around, checking on the girls, checking on him.

Some nights were... Painful. Therapy had a big presence in his life. He no longer needed a cane thanks to nurse Hansen, his physical therapist. But on some days, the stress and the weather would simply take a toll on his legs, forcing him to carry around that metal stick that reminded him that he was, in fact, human.

Before you left, Freydis figured out a question that would calm Ivar down and make him focus: “What would Dr. Nielsen tell you to do?”. That was how she got him to control himself and open up the last time he was onstage, the night she met you. They were just engaged back then. Oh, how quick did time pass. Ivar no longer organised events like that. He was too consumed by his two jobs. There were nights where Freydis would be on business trips, or out hanging out with friends until the next morning, nights where absences were felt more than presences. But he was coping now. Dr. Nielsen helped the youngest Lothbrok greatly since his great breakdown.

Ivar had thought he physically felt his heart break the night he got down the stage to find you, only to figure out you were gone after most of the guests had left the hotel ballroom. He felt compelled to call you dozens of times to ask for an explanation. After his calls went unanswered, he decided to drive around town in search of you, not knowing where to start, not knowing where to ask, anger poisoning his brain and taking over his actions. That night he stayed at Loki’s after barging in to see if you were hiding there like “the coward you were”. He hated the fact that you could make him feel that weak. It felt like he was putty and Freydis was fire, hardening him the more he was exposed to her. You were water, turning him into a pliable being, at mercy of your actions.

For five days in a row, he found himself staying at his office until late at night, observing his office telephone with attention and indecision, silently praying for you to pick up the phone, practicing the rage filled words he was about to rain down on you the moment you uttered a response. He prayed with ill intentions, but he prayed nonetheless. It was his last resort.

The earth seemed to crack open and swallow him whole the moment he gathered all his courage and dialed your number, only to hear an automated voice telling him that the number no longer existed. He sat there, phone on his hand as a white noise took over the voice message, thinking about the different possibilities that could have happened for you to cancel your line. Maybe, he thought. Maybe I really asked for too much this time.

“Fuck no,” Ivar reflected out loud as he tossed his phone away, “In no fucking way this is my fault.”

“Ivar?” A distant voice reverberated through the glass corridors. It sounded familiar. The youngest Ragnarsson frowned, weirded out by the fact that one of his brothers was still in the office this late.

It wasn’t just one of his brothers, but the three of them.

“Freydis called us asking where you were. You’ve been out late at night for many days in a row, she literally just confronted each one of us asking whether you were having an affair.” Hvitserk said, arms crossed as he leaned on the door frame. “That woman nearly dragged each one of us out to look for you.” Ivar pursed his lips, outraged by such accusations from his then fiancée.

“Well, tell her I’d never do such thing.” He answered, swatting his hand in annoyance. “I am surprised she came to that conclusion, knowing how busy I always am as the bloody CEO!” He exclaimed, letting the following silence fill the room as he flashed a disdainful look towards his brothers.

“Why are you here, brother?” Ubbe finally dared to ask, observing his youngest sibling sway in his chair from side to side.

Ivar looked up for a brief moment, like a puppy who lost his favourite toy, and decided to tell them the whole story. That the had the hunch you were back from a strange event where someone knocked on his penthouse door. To that, Ubbe awkwardly shifted in his place, still listening intently. Ivar explained that he sent you an invite to his inaguration gala and how he asked you to stay for his speech so you could have a dance afterwards, unaware of the utterly personal turn his speech would take just because an old man decided to drink a bit more than usual that night. How he waited for you, called you and looked for you tirelessly, frustration filling his voice as he talked about how you had been avoiding him for a week now, changing your phone number in the process.

“If she thinks she can avoid me by changing numbers she’s dead wrong. We’re business partners, for fucks sake!” He complained, registering the situation as a burden. “I’ll find her new phone sooner or later.”

Unbeknownst Ivar, tension had been gradually building up as he spoke, his three brothers standing still in their places, not knowing how to break the news. Sure they knew this day would come, but none of the three expected to be trapped with the ticking bomb. It was way too soon. Too recent.

Hell, it was about you. It was most likely no amount of time would soften the blow.

Ubbe took a step forward, leaning on the hardwood desk. With a resigned tone, he mumbled:

“She’s gone, Ivar.” He swallowed. “(Y/n) left Kattegat.”

Already motionless before, Ivar remained still. He darted his eyes to look at his brother, confusion and fear brewing within him, fueling a fire he thought it was extinguished the day he made Sigurd leave. With trembling lips but a determined voice, he asked how did he know. How did Ubbe Ragnarsson, the brother who would stab his youngest sibling in the back at the slightest opportunity, know the whereabouts of his woman, while he sat there completely lost, disoriented.

With an attempt of a soothing voice, Ubbe confessed that months ago he offered you a job position to work on a humanitarian project he had running in Haiti. Aslaug had stated in her will that she wished to expand the non-profit organisation she created to other countries and Ubbe decided to make his deceased mother’s wish come true. He told Ivar that while you rejected the offer at first, you ended up accepting it the night of his gala. That you made him promise to make the process fast and discreet, and that, while you insisted on paying for the plane tickets, Lothbrok Inc. paid for your travel expenses and necessities. You left three days ago, unnanounced, with only Ubbe at the airport to bid you farewell.

Hvitserk, who remained silent all this time, let him know that you were no longer the owner of the bar you opened together. At that, Ivar panicked, his eyes wide open as he snapped his head towards his older brother. You simply signed a transfer contract, with Ubbe as the witness and five krone as the contingency, stating that you were returning the property to Lothbrok Inc., thus paying your debt to the family and releasing yourself from any ties to Ivar. He tried to soften the blow, letting him know that he didn’t know you gave him your share because you were leaving. He thought it was a rash decision that stemmed from seeing Ivar with a fiancée, that you’d come back and take back the business when you were ready. He promised he’d take care of the bar as well as you took care of it, that nothing would change under his management.

Ivar listened intently, motionless. His breathing was deep, yet steady. He never moved a muscle voluntarily, but his nostrils flared with every breath and his hand, hidden under the desk, shook incontrollably as he processed their words. His piercing gaze was focused on the oldest Aslaugsson, who was now relaxing and straightening his back as he regained his composure.

It felt like every action happened in slow motion, yet the blow came fast. In mere seconds, Ivar had propped himself forward from the chair, one of his hands grabbing the jacket Ubbe was wearing while the other, contracted in a fist, made contact with his right cheek. That is when Bjorn, who had been silent during the whole exchange, stepped in, grabbing the torso of his youngest brother as he struggled to keep himself standing, making sure he didn’t hurt himself.

Sometimes, Ivar still hears his own screams.

“YOU TOOK HER FROM ME!” Ivar accused, eyes absent of tears but voice cracking at the end of the sentence. “SHEWAS GOING TO STAY,” He roared, fists swinging towards his brother’s face. “AND YOU FUCKING TOOK HER FROM ME!”

He lost it that night. The screams he released came from the depths of his sorrow, his eyes only registering red while all his nerves could only feel the desperation taking over his soul. Ivar kept trying to reach Ubbe, unaware of how he repeatedly banged his legs against the desk as Bjorn tried to pin him down.

But what started as a justified outburst gradually led to nonsensical, rage-filled accusations.

“You wanted to fuck her, didn’t you? You wanted her and you couldn’t stand the fact that she chose ME!” Ivar recriminated, grabbing a sharp glass ornament and throwing it to his brother. Ubbe pursed his lips, dodging the improvised weapon. “You did this to get back at me, hmm? YOU WANT ALL I HAVE, DON’T YOU?” He seethed, eyes and mouth wide open, exposing his teeth like a menacing predator as he let out a guttural laugh.

Bjorn was having a difficult time restraining him. Years relying on his upper body strength gave Ivar the advantage of resilience amongst his biggest sibling, while Bjorn struggled to keep him in place. Ivar managed to grab the second glass ornament, throwing it as he shrieked.

“DON’T YOU KNOW WHO I AM?” his voice boomed in the room, palm pounding his chest as his free hand signaled the whole place. “YOU CAN’T TAKE THIS AWAY FROM ME, I AM IVAR LOTHBROK! YOU CAN’T TAKE THIS AWAY FROM ME!” Ivar kept shouting, cursing as he spat towards Ubbe.

Hvitserk stepped forward, having seen enough, ready to take on his little brother. To his surprise, Ubbe halted him, his arm creating a barrier between Hvitserk and Ivar as he observed with intent and horror etched on his face.

That night, Ivar lost the little progress he made. He broke his femur, dignity left behind as an ambulance carried him to the emergency room.

As if that wasn’t enough, he lost another family member to Lagertha that night.

With a reedy voice as he laid down in the hospital bed, he asked Ubbe one thing:

“Bring her back.” He whispered, his eyes stuck in the ceiling, pretty certain that if he laid his eyes on his brother, he would kill him. “She is working for Lothbrok Inc. now. Bring her back.” His request was met with silence. “That’s an order.” He swallowed, nostrils flaring with each ticking second.

“I’m sorry, Ivar.” Ubbe mumbled. “The Sigurðdóttir Trust is out of your reach.” He reminded him, reopening a wound that Ivar closed not so long ago. “That’s what mother wished.” Ivar snapped his head at the mention of his beloved mother. The brim of his eyes were red like his sclera, a menacing gaze stabbing his brother as Ivar grabbed his wrist.

“You have three days to gather your stuff and leave Lothbrok Inc.” Ivar seethed as he moved his face closer to his brother. “If you’re not gone after that, I will make sure you’ll leave the premises crawling like I crawled as a child.” Ivar swore, releasing his wrist as he let his head drop back to the sterile pillow.

Up to this day, Ivar still saw Ubbe’s action as a huge betrayal. He knew his older brother would return to his life as the new addition of Lagertha’s legal team, Bjorn granted his little brother this little backup plan.

Tonight, his thoughts weighted a little heavier. His eyes scanned the city before focusing on his bedroom, where he finds the clothes he wore today discarded on the leather chair. Behind him, his wife slept peacefully, her baby bumb protuding more and more each passing day. His legs were alright, but with the absence of physical pain he could sense his yearning looming over his head.

Ivar sighs and stands up silently, his bare feet and metallic support dragging on the tiles as he moved to his home office.

Dr. Nielsen taught him the importance of adapted emotional releases. She actively discouraged Ivar from indulging in his impulses and told him to write them down instead. For business meetings, Ivar was told to count until 10, 20 or even 30 if he was encountered with bad news. When it came to personal affairs, Dr. Nielsen told him to write letters addressed to the pertinent subject. Ivar could write them and discard them, write them and take them to therapy or he could write them and send them to the addressee.

It wasn’t the most effective exercise, but it kept his flame at bay. He needed to learn to do that, now that he knew he had a little one coming soon.

Sometimes he wrote to his mother, asking her questions about ruling an empire he wished he had the answer to. Those he kept, as a tool to reflect later on when his ambition peaked. The more emotional ones he’d take to Dr. Nielsen, a proof of his progress on his journey to... normalcy. The ones he wrote to Sigurd, those he threw away. In those pages filled with guilt and rage, he found himself cornered in a bleak past that seemed to refuse to let him go.

Tonight, he thought about you.

It wasn’t like you weren’t a constant presence in his mind, like an annoying tenant in his brain that refused to leave or pay rent. Ivar just chose to remember the best parts of you, those who could be found at the bar you owned, or on his bed when Freydis left him for the night. If he kept you alive that way, he would also keep alive that part of him he thought he lost. You were inevitable, like the pain after a blow or the kiss after a reencounter.

He wishes he could blame you. For leaving, for stepping outside the gala without waiting for your dance. For silently giving away your shares to Hvitserk, who the only thing he knew about bars was how to empty the alcohol pantry. But there is a part of him that cannot physically repulse you.

Ivar sits down and turns on the desk lamp in front of him. He finds his precious pen and puts a piece of paper on the desk. Before starting, he hesitates.

Dear (Y/n),

He groans, crossing the two words with disdain.

Hello.

“Hello?” Ivar shakes his head, crossing the word again.

Hi, princess.

Ivar cringes. No.

Frustrated, he discards the paper. He had done it before. Why was it so hard to do it all over again now?

Just... Jump right in. Start from the beginning, start from the middle, start from the end if you prefer. He recalls the advice of his therapist. Sometimes, formalities are overrated. It may help when you have nothing to say, but it becomes a burden when you got too much to say. Ivar reflected.

And so he did.

Every night I drive through the streets of Kattegat I find myself looking for you wandering around, looking for me to give you a lift, for the memory of our first reencounters were the ones that helped us find redemption.

It is weird, but I still have the need to find you even though I know you are no longer here. The idea of you lives in my head, that I am sure of. The feel of you, that is what I miss.

I guess part of me feels like I still need to apologise for something that I’ve done.

At the sight of his words written on paper, Ivar blinks. He never consciously thought much more ahead of his negations, his feelings dictating the perspectives he kept imposing to his reality.

He sacrificed so much for you. He tried to change for you. He went to therapy, he learned to walk. Ivar tried to become the right man for you, he really tried.

He wished you were there to see it.

Ivar doesn’t really know what he did wrong. All he knows is...

And now that you’re gone for good,

He shakes his head, crossing the last two words.

all I wish for is to be in the wrong this time.

Ivar huffs in frustration.

I wish I had been selfish, I wish I was the old Ivar. I wish I had begged you to stay, to manage this empire I never chos- by my side.

I know you would have never wanted this.

But I know you would have never said no to us.

Mindlessly, Ivar puts his pen in his mouth, a subconscious tick he developped not-so recently. Passing his hands through his hair, he sighed.

I started to smoke. He confessed. I know you never liked the smell, how it clings to my clothes, my mouth, how it lingered around the house when my brothers decided to have one one in their rooms. Ivar snorts at the memory. Not that you’re here to tell me off.

Freydis has been buying candles, they’re all around the house now. The smell of the cigarettes blends with the essences and I technically get to have fire dispensers in every single room.

“Maybe I’m waiting for you to magically show up and tell me to fuck off.” He whispers.

Suddenly, Ivar shakes his head, as if the physical gesture cleared his mind.

I guess I’ll have to stop soon, I have a baby on the way. He releases an airy laugh as he re-reads what he just wrote. Who would have thought, (Y/n)? A baby. Me. Your Ivar.

The young Ragnarsson lets out a tired sigh, strenghening his grip on the metalling pen as he mindlessly tapped on the crystal desk. With resigned resolution, he decides to write his last lines, telling himself that he is finally starting to accept reality.

I know you’re not going to come back. Not to the place we grew up at, at least.

If you ever do, I just want to let you know, as sappy as it may sound, that my heart will always be open for you, even when my arms are not.

I miss you.

I miss us.

Take care,

Ivar.

Dropping the pen, Ivar stares at his letter. His hands blindly search for an envelope, a frown etched on his face until his fingertips brush against the soft surface of the letter. You don’t know, but he found your new address. He searched around Ubbe’s old files.

With a careful manner, Ivar writes down your address on the envelope.

He stands up, walks to his living room and grabs a jacket as he makes his way to the exit.

All of the sudden he stops right on his tracks, his free hand almost reaching to the door handle. Freydis seemed to have forgotten to put out a lone candle, a tiny fragrance dispenser resting on the entrance drawer.

Ivar may not be aware of a lot of things in life, but one thing he was certain of: smoke traveled faster than mail.

His hand was trembling slightly, but it managed to follow his instructions. With a swift move, Ivar positioned the ephemeral piece of paper on the fire, watching intently how the flames consumed his words and took them to you. Discreetly, he threw the burning letter in the empty bin, the lid cutting short the trail of smoke escaping from the container.

He makes sure ashes are all what it remains from his indecent confession and makes his way back to the bedroom. Slowly but steadily, Ivar returns to bed, nesting himself between the sheets before holding his beloved wife in his embrace.

Tonight, he was human. Tomorrow, he’ll have to be a God.

The end.

Taglist:

Note: This is the old taglist I have noted from my past Ivar ficts. Please let me know if you want to be removed or added by sending an ask here.

@aesstheticallypleasing @captstefanbrandt @unicornbaby741 @fuckthatfeeling @huffelpuffers @yannii04 @collecting-stories @timber3 @darkwolfpeanutskeleton @vampsclassiffied @lenafarn @yourpurplequeen@youbloodymadgenius @lettersofwrittencollective

#ivar x reader #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar lothbrok x reader #ivar ragnarsson x reader #ivar/reader #ivar the boneless/reader #ivar ragnarsson/reader #ivar imagine #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar lothbrok imagine #ivar lothbrok/reader #Ivar One shot #ivar the boneless one shot #ivar lothbrok one shot #ivar ragnarsson one shot #ivar ragnarsson imagine

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donutloverxo · 4 years

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The proposition

@sweater-daddiesdumbdork asked for "hmm. Gentle fluff or smut, can be both. Whatever your in the mood for babes. Long or short as you would like." Ok I know the story doesn't really fit the gif or the request but I love it so much🥺🥺

Summary - Wilford has a proposition for you and Curtis.

Warnings - smut, virgin reader, blood/cum play, dark themes, technically non con/dub con since it is coercion

Pairing - Curtis Everett x reader

Word count - 3.5k

Masterlist is linked in the bio!

You looked at the wooden board contemplating your next move. You had gotten somewhat better at playing, after practicing for so many years. But you still weren’t nearly as good as Wilford.

“Check” You warned and grinned as you trapped his king with your knight.

“Hm” he hummed staring off into the distance. He was really out of it throughout the game.

“Is something wrong?” You spoke casually and felt a shiver go down your spine. Suddenly on edge again.

You often forgot that you’re supposed to hate him. After everything he’s done to so many people, even if he was somewhat kind to you, he was far from a good person.

You never even knew about the state of the tail section. Not until the revolution that happened months ago. Their conditions had gotten considerably better. But they and their leader were still struggling and fighting for their rights.

“Well if you really want to know...” He paused chewing on his finger while he supported the weight of his head with his palm. “There’s Curtis. He’s clearly not happy. He’s making it difficult for me to mould him into a perfect heir.”

“Oh” You let out. The disdain Curtis held for Wilford was really obvious. You had never spoken to him but you accompanied Wilford to several of his meetings. “Maybe you can meet him in the middle? Give into his needs a bit?” You said your voice strained. You didn’t need him second guessing your loyalty.

“I’ve been more than generous with him.” He scoffed “We have to maintain equilibrium. Perfect balance.” He went on his usual lecture taking out your knight with his queen “If only you were a bit smarter... and a man I wouldn’t even need Curtis.” He stated his eyes staring at the board.

“I’m sorry.” You hung your head in shame. Ashamed that you couldn’t be enough to satisfy him, be of any use to him. And that you craved his approval in the first place.

“At the end of the day” He said finally looking at you “How devoted are you? How far would you go for me?” He asked and looked at you expectedly.

“I – I’ll do anything for you sir. You know that.” You stammered. He had yet to ask you to do any tasks for him. Expect for keeping him company. You doubted he'd ask for anything too extreme from you. Not when he had so many skilled people do the job for him.

“That’s all I needed to hear.” He said giving you a chillingly warm smile that highlighted the wrinkles around his eyes.

***

Curtis struggled to not punch a hole into a wall to let the anger bubbling inside him out. Every time Wilford called him up to the ‘sacred engine’ it was for something incredibly stupid.

Like fucking tea parties with macaroons or mini sandwiches. The pompous ass called himself ‘A man of taste. That’s how I know you’re special.’

Now Curtis would have to eat those ridiculous cookies or sliders or whatever he serves him and listen to his bullshit.

But he knew that had no right to complain. This was a small price to pay for all the work he had been doing to help HIS people.

They were given five more sections of the train. Proper food and clean water. It was acceptable. But it still wasn’t enough.

He had his own spacious room since he’s 'one of the big guys now'. He felt guilty living in it. To have clean water to shower everyday, have more than enough food to keep him full.

It had been 17 years since he was alone in a room. With his thoughts. Now he got to sleep on his plush mattress all by himself. It should feel good. But he was guilty. He wouldn’t rest until his people got the same privileges. No matter how long it takes.

Wilford agreed to his terms, and negotiated with him for hours, when he had him over a barrel. It was either that or Curtis blows up the train.

The first few weeks were rough. He felt completely hopeless and crushed. Knowing from then on that he could only trust himself in this dog eats dog world. The people he did love and care for were now all dead.

So he did what he had been doing for the past two decades. Threw himself into work and planning with a clear goal in mind.

He finally reached his destination finding Wilford waiting for him. Welcoming him with a smile.

“Why don’t you sit down for a while?” He asked when Curtis merely stood there glaring at him.

“Can we make this quick.” He snapped.

“Why do you have places to be?” Wilford laughed calling for you to come out of the corner. Where you usually stood and watched his meetings take place. He introduced you to Curtis “But you must know her by now.” He inquired raising a grey eyebrow at him.

“Yeah.” Curtis gave you a small nod glaring at you as if he was ready to cut you up then and there. You had no idea why he seemed more angry with you than he did with Wilford.

“Well you’ve been on edge. And you know men have needs...” He trailed off shrugging “You can have her as your own. You’ll need an heir soon enough.” He continued.

Leaving you completely stunned. He wanted to sell you off as if you were a breeding mare.

When your father ‘gave' you to Wilford ,just over 4 years ago, you thought you’d have to do that with him. Keep him satisfied like the prostitutes in section 5 do.

But you were surprised to find that Wilford never really cared much for sex. Not with you or anyone else. He decided to ‘keep' you even went far as to call you a pet. Someone adorably stupid he liked to teach things and impart his wisdom to.

The thought of being with Curtis in that way wasn’t repulsive, not as much as it was with Wilford, but you were sure that he’d hurt you. That he hated your guts.

“That won’t be necessary.” Curtis stated “is that all?” He said completely done with this whole situation. And needing to get out of this place that just stinks of Wilford.

“Now now what’s the rush? Is she not enough? I thought you’d like someone simpler or I would’ve called for a professional.” To which Curtis shook his head dryly laughing at the ridiculous proposition. “Do you have someone else in mind? Someone in the tail section? No one there would be healthy enough to bare a child.”

To which Curtis gritted his teeth, clenching his jaw.

He did you a once over. He could see your curvy and plump figure even through your baggy clothes. That’s what he hated about you the most. The fact that he was so attracted to you. And that you always looked so goddamn irresistible.

“I don’t need a whore.” He spit.

“How about you watch your language and your tone” Wilford frowned “She won’t be a whore. She’ll be the mother of your children. You can marry her if you want to. Not that it would mean anything.” Wilford paused letting him process his words. “I’ll tell you what. You can have any woman you want.”

“How about no?” He snarked even though he knew better.

“I wasn’t really asking.” he sighed. Irritated at just how annoyingly stubborn Curtis could be. “You do this and maybe I’ll be more open to negotiating.”

Curtis shook his head in disbelief and looked at you. You had been quiet the entire time. Just like you always are. He had never heard your voice. He would certainly remember it if he did.

“And you’re okay with this?” He asked you.

Your eyes darted back and forth between both of them. “Ye – yes” You stammered. Feeling as if you were suddenly put on the spot. You didn’t really have much of a choice.

“Does tonight sound good to you?” Wilford asked you and you gave him a small nod. “Well then you should go on and get ready sweetheart” He cooed at you softly and you followed. Looking at Curtis one last time before going back to your room.

“Is this really necessary?” Curtis asked as he watched you leave.

“You’re still in your prime. This is the best time to have a baby that’d healthy. You know what they said better late.”

Curtis stayed for a bit discussing these ‘negotiations' Wilford had promised. But he was sure of one thing. No way in hell is he fucking a front sectioner. Let alone have a kid with one. He wouldn’t be caught dead trying to bring a child in this fucked up world.

You seemed impressionable. He could easily convince you to lie.

***

Your roommate Laura helped you pick out a dress for the night. Giving you some pointers on how to please men.

“And don’t forget to remind him to pull out.” She warned. Knowing the penalty for birthing more than one baby, in most cases, is very high. “Oh yeah you wouldn’t need to do that...” She trailed off feeling sympathy for you “Then I’ve heard that you should keep his cum in you for as long as you can. Let gravity do the work.”

You zoned her out. Needing her to stop talking because you were anxious enough.

“Aren’t you nervous though? To be a mom? I’d be terrified.”

Terrified. Yeah that’s what you should be. But you felt eerily calm. “I’m taking it one day at a time. Or I’d go crazy.” You muttered out in response to her.

Your steps were slow as you made your way to Curtis. What happens if he finds you lacking? Or so repulsive that he can’t even get it up. Would Wilford forgive you. How grave would his punishment even be.

You found yourself worrying more for Curtis. Wilford still held a soft spot for you. But as much as he claimed to be smitten by Curtis, it was clear that he held a bias. Like most front sectioners did against the tail Enders.

You knocked on his door before letting yourself in. Looking around for him. His room was, as you expected, much larger than yours. It held a king bed in the middle of it, unlike your twin beds. It was much cleaner and organised as well.

Your eyes fell on an old worn out paper which held what looked like a charcoal drawing. You held it up studying it.

“What the hell are you doing here?” You jumped as you heard him growl. You turned around to see him standing just a few feet away from you, dressed only with a towel hanging low on his hips.

“Uh I’m here for... the...you know...” What the hell were you supposed to call it? Babymaking?

“We won’t be doing that. You will sit there, quietly, for a few hours and leave.” He ordered looking through his dressed for his clothes.

Even though water was abundant to him now, he wasn’t going to be wasteful with it. So he only showered in the evenings. To wash the whole day off of him.

Maybe a part of him knew you’d be here. And wanted to look presentable to him. Which, he knew, was stupid. You’d never see him that way. And he didn’t need to work to impress someone like you.

“We can’t do that.” You mumbled taking in his naked torso. His shoulders were broad and he And you were pleasantly surprised to see just how huge he was.

“Why?” He asked pulling a shirt and some pants out. He looked back at you expecting an answer.

“He – a doctor will be examining me tomorrow. They’ll probably figure it out.” You said hugging yourself to make yourself small. Averting your gaze to avoid the intensity of his eyes.

“Fine then.” He huffed. He looked through the dresser to search for the lotion that came with the room. He could probably use it as lube, get it over with. It wouldn’t be too hard for him to do it and he wasn’t really looking to hurt you either. “Lay down on the bed” He instructed handing you the bottle as you settled on top of his mattress.

He opened his mouth about to tell you to apply it between your legs but then “I’ve never done this before you know. Just thought you should know.” You confessed still unable to look him in the eye.

“What? That’s not possible.” He frowned at you “Aren’t you supposed to be Wilfords whore?” He snapped.

Which set you off. This was the second time today he had called you a whore. “You really think you have the moral high ground to call me that?” you swallowed as he looked taken aback by your words. “I don’t know what I am to Wilford. What I do know is – if we don’t do as he says we’ll have to pay.”

“I’ll take my chances.” He scoffed.

“Don’t. You’ll regret it.” You said gravely. Shedding off your clothes. There was no point in prolonging it. “Can we turn the lights off?” You asked.

“No.” He let out as he looked at your dress. Bunched up around your waist. Giving him a generous look at your thick thighs.

He loosened his towel a bit as he felt himself harden at just the thought of you naked.

He hadn’t been with a woman in decades. Too afraid to bring a child in this world. There were offers from many to suck him off. But he was never particularly interested. He took care of himself as hastily and as quietly as he could, in his bunk late at night.

Despite everything, how lucky he was right now to have the things he had, how far he had come, he had also suffered a lot. Gave up a lot. Maybe he deserved something he took just for himself.

He dropped his towel onto the floor, revealing his erection to you. He climbed on the bed and crawled to you.

You stared at his long length, how scary and angry it looked pressed hard against this taut abs. “I uh what do I do with this?” You asked looking at the lotion.

“Forget about it.” He tossed the bottle away and worked on rolling your panties down your legs.

You shivered as cold air touched your exposed core. “Oh” You gasped as you felt his fingers nudge your warm folds.

“Off with this too.” He demanded taking your dress off your head.

You quickly brought your hands up to cover your exposed chest. Shifting in your place. The reality of the situation suddenly hit you. This was really happening. It was all too quick. There wasn’t nearly enough time for you to process your emotions.

He pushed you on your back and quickly settled between your legs. Smelling a whiff of your arousal. He knew he was being hasty. If he wasn’t patient it would be over too soon. But he was so damn hard he felt as he’d bust right then and there. He rolled his hips into the mattress to relieve some of the pressure from his groins.

He groaned at the sight of your naked body above him. Your soft stomach, your breast laid flat as your chest heaved. He dove in for a taste. Pleased with just how wet you already were and at the way you squirmed. He almost let himself believe that you wanted him. That you were so aroused just for him.

But he knew better than to believe that. It was far from the truth. You were just as forced into this situation as he was. He was just trying to make the best of it.

Before he could eat you properly you lightly pushed at his head. “Wait.” Your voice scratchy. You propped yourself on your elbows so you could look at him “I don’t... want it to hurt. Please.” You pleaded.

“That depends on how much you cooperate.” He threatened and you laid back. You whimpered as he sucked your clit, wrapping his mouth around it. He pushed a finger inside you and then another. Holding a hand flat on your stomach to stop you from moving. It was different than when you played with yourself with your fingers.

You cried out loud for the whole train to hear when he rolled your bundle of nerves between his fingers while fucking you with his tongue. You came on his tongue. Feeling more intense than you had ever before.

He lapped up everything you gave him. Not wanting to waste a single drop. He trailed kisses up your nipping just under your breasts and wrapping his lips around one dark hard bud. He sucked it harshly gently pulling on your other nipple, just to get a reaction out of you. You whimpered cradling his head close to your chest.

All too soon he released your nipple and supported his weight on his forearms to look down at you.

You looked so perfectly dazed. Staring at him hazily through your hooded eyes. Your lips bruised and bleeding. Were you biting them so hard to keep, and fail, from making those singular noises?

He couldn’t help it. He knew he’d regret it the second he thought of it. But he needed to know what your mouth tasted like. He nibbled on your bottom lip for a bit before capturing your lips for a kiss.

His first one as far as he can remember. He wondered if he was your first kiss too. He tilted his head to get an angle that would allow him to explore your mouth the best. Moaning into it he brought his hands up to cradle your face. Somehow kissing your mouth felt more intimate than kissing your cunt.

He finally pulled away so you could both breathe. He took in a few deep breathes before nudging your lips with his tip, before seething himself into you.

He was deliberately slow. Drawing out the pleasure for both of you because he didn’t want to hurt you. Far from it. He wanted you to scream his name just like you were minutes before.

He groaned into your ear as he bottomed out. Giving you all the time you needed to adjust to his length. He pulled your earlobe between his teeth. Snaking a hand beneath your hips he raised them so he could thrust deeper inside you.

You mewled and moaned under him, chanting his name as if it was a prayer, as he slowly rutted into you. He wondered, if it was because of him. Or it wouldn’t really make much of a difference to you of it was some front sectioners cock instead of his.

Your walls were so snug and tight around him. He knew he wouldn’t last long. He tried to think of all the work he had to do, hell even thought of Wilford just to hold off.

But he couldn’t. Not with the way you were squeezing him. He quickly pulled out and stroked himself to completion. Ropes of his cum painted your stomach. He felt strangely possessive at that. As if he marked you as his own.

He sat up on his knees, looking down at you and stroking your thighs, he admire his work.

“What did you do?” You asked as you felt his warm spend on your stomach. It had been feeling so good for you, you were almost at the edge when he pulled out. You knew he was supposed to finish inside you.

He didn’t bother to answer you before his broad shoulders nudged the inside of your thighs to fit him. He lapped up at your cunt again. Determined to bring you off at least once more. He moaned at the tangy taste of your blood, and your juices mixed with his.

It didn’t take long for him to work up your sensitive and overworked folds and cunt. This orgasm was somehow more intense, if that was even possible.

Curtis settled beside you. Wiping his mouth off with his hand he turned off the light. He thought about asking you to go back to your room.

But then you curled up against his arm, wrapping your little hands around it. You settled your head in the crook of his neck. He would get up later to clean you both up later. Right now he just needed to commit this moment to memory. So he’d never forget it.

Tags will be in the reblog! If you want in on the taglist lemme know via dm/ask or click the link in the bio.

Yayyy I finally wrote for Curtis! Idk if there will be a part two to this. Snowpiercer is just too dark for a soft girl like me🥺🥺

Please note that my works are not to be reposted on any other website/blog. Reblogs are welcome though!

#curtis everett x reader #curtis everett #curtis x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x reader #chris evans x y/n #snowpiercer #submission

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phantomknights · 3 years

Text

locke kids masterlist

4 that one ask game and potentially future ask games too who knows 😳. these r all gijinkas of pkmn from my platinum nuzlocke

current team

pumpkin (quagsire) - he/him. my starter. gentle farmer boy. no parent. good cook. has seen some shit.

ebony (murkrow) - she/her. sick ass trans pirate bro!!! the team leader i think? nearly her whole crew died in a big storm once that was not poggers :(

willow (crobat) - she/her. Emo™. will buy you smoothies. can rip holes in the fabric of space so that's cool. jax's older sister (jax is @/prizmpaws 's starter its a 3 way soul link).

hermos (forretress) - he/it. an author. used to not be able to feel One Specific Emotion before it met its soulmates but tbh i haven't figured out what that specific emotion is yet. update 3/27/21 its joy lol. confused about bug spray. kinda sad cause it knows it's never gonna have another "happiest moment of its life".

artemis (ampharos) - she/they. LOVES U. gifts n physical touch are her love languages if u hold her hand she will MELT. (no im not projecting what do u mean.) one of the weed smoking girlfriends.

kayin (togekiss) - he/they/wish. newest member of the team. has a journal they can use to communicate w/ their soulmates. probably does the 👉👈 thing a lot. soft.... wants to make sure everyone's safe!!! kind of timid. very finicky. loves u <3

the living

avian (beedrill) - he/they. will hop over your fence to steal shit from your garden. met his soulmates this way (he just really wanted some radishes man!!).

rowan (wartortle) - she/her. like 7 years old. adopted off the side of the road. a contest kid! made it big really early in cute contests. loves decorating her hair with ribbons and stuff. can commune with the dead.

charlie (entei) - they/them. volcano god. tall as fuck (like 6'11"). living space heater. the only thing stopping a jock and a horse girl from murdering each other. main hobby: crimes.

victoria (primeape) - she/her. a baker! the mom friend but like, a super aggressive mom friend. will beat the shit out of whoever's bothering you. and also will make you yummy bread with her soulmates if youre feeling sad :)

finn (minun) - he/him. Babey. but not as babey as rowan he's like 12. kind of shy 👉👈. pls compliment him he's starving for attention.

yvette (sentret) - she/they. bartender and barista. she and her soulmates are like the ultimate meet cute. will walk with you out of the bar if you're feeling unsafe and then shoot the guy who made you feel that way full of arrows.

velvet (swablu) - she/they. magical girl! specifically madoka magica flavored. sometimes she just wears her magical girl outfit wherever cause its nice aesthetic hehe.

thoas (swalot) - he/they. slightly more baby than finn but still not as baby as rowan. like 8 or 9 probably. they were a gym trainer at canalave gym but the starters were like fuck that! you're our child now.

bingus (tauros) - no pronouns. big strong bingus!!! both soulmates are also named bingus. bingus loves bingus’s soulmates bingus and bingus with all of bingus’s heart. bingus thinks u are very epic and important. finds joy in everything.

autumn...? (seadra) - any pronouns. *chanting* spy au spy au spy au!!! goes by the names of the months and seasons for them spicy fake identities. has probably fucked ur mom.

the deceased

rei (sableye) - he/they. certified bastard. has that soulmate au where if you draw on your skin it shows up on your soulmate's skin. got their older brother arrested by drawing shit on their face.

timaeus (roserade) - he/him. former crown prince of the sinnoh region. very protective of his little sister. has his mother's eyes.

june (budew) - she/her. former princess of the sinnoh region. also known as junior. like 6 years old. the original Babey™.

osiris (giratina) - it/void. got like 5 minutes of screentime. two whole loyal followers! i think the world is sort of falling apart since voi died? also tall as fuck (7'2"). will raid your twitch stream and call you cringe.

stardust (luxio) - he/they. Criminol. former team leader. haha what if you lowered me into a bank vault with my red string of fate... haha jk...... unless? 😳

critias (toxicroak) - he/him. see no evil! blind as shit. vigilante motherfucker. owns a miku binder. beats the shit out of corporations & forces them to be disability accessible. an icon. former team leader.

heba (claydol) - they/them. street magician. dresses fancy no matter the occasion. swallows lots of swords. that's like their main trick since they can't get hurt from it. their parents were also rowan's parents. emphasis on the were.

sitri (darkrai) - he/they. stardust move over there's a new bastard in town. several thousand years old but got kicked out of pokemon heaven and into high school for being an angsty teen. also really tall (6'9"). gamer tag is probably something like xX_hiraeth.shadow_Xx

darya (slowking) - she/they. theater major. game show stan. will infodump to you about shit you've never heard of at 2:03 am.

now you can go wild on that ask game have fun

#drugs cw #death cw #alcohol cw #body horror cw #ask to tag??#idk if i overdid it or not #its not as bad as it looks i promise #anyway send some asks hehe #locke kids #locke kids masterlist

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quickspinner · 4 years

Text

Second Chance - Ch 5 Cold Feet

Luka played the chord progression again and sighed. Nothing was working. He put the guitar aside gently, resisting the urge to toss it across the room. He walked out of his studio and threw himself down on his living room couch, glowering at nothing. He checked the time. He had another hour and a half to himself before he had to head back to the studio, but he was making so little progress, maybe he should just go on in.

He missed Marinette, Luka admitted to himself miserably. It was like having her here was a week-long high that he was coming down from. He’d been down since her things had vanished from his home. Everything was exactly the way it had been. Plain. Boring. Why hadn’t he ever put any effort into decorating this place? Granted, he hadn’t had much in the way of stuff to bring with him when he moved in, and most of that went in the bedroom. Then he’d been touring, and it wasn’t like he ever had visitors. He lived in his bedroom and on his balcony, he worked in his home studio and at the dining room table.

He thought fondly of the cluttered chaos of the Liberty. It had only gotten worse since he and Juleka moved out. Without her children coming and going and bringing friends in and out, necessitating a minimum level of order simply so people could get around, Anarka was free to live her precepts to the fullest, and she did. His apartment décor might be minimalist even by normal standards but it was positively barren according to Anarka’s. Juleka’s place was a little better, but Juleka had more interests outside of music. Luka was pretty sure her collection of hair accessories alone would take up more boxes than everything he owned. And Juleka lived with Rose, so there were plants and flowers and unexplainable frilly things everywhere. Rose had given him some plants when they’d all moved in, but...well. Luka was frequently too distracted to remember to feed himself, let alone take care of plants.

He suddenly remembered Marinette’s soft sympathy as she told him, You’ve been lonely. He’d answered, I guess I have.

Luka looked at his phone, considering. Anarka was somewhere on the Mediterranean out of touch by anything except satellite phone at the moment, and wouldn’t be back in Paris for another month. His old friends had lives of their own that didn’t include sleeping until noon and eating lunch at dinner time. He scrolled idly down his contacts and paused. Ivan worked construction and his hours were sometimes weird. He was a manager now, too, maybe he would have a few minutes to spare. If Ivan even cared to speak with him. Luka hadn’t exactly been in touch.

Luka took a deep breath, blew it out slowly, and his thumb moved and he raised the phone to his ear.

“Hey, Ivan, it’s Luka,” he said with a smile. “No, nothing’s wrong, I just wanted to catch up a bit. Got a few minutes for an old friend?”

Really all he had to do was get Ivan rolling, and let him go on about Mylène and all the things they were doing to get ready for the baby. Luka could hear Ivan’s fear buzzing under his words.

“It’s scary, yeah?” Luka observed once there was a break in Ivan’s words. “It’s scary like all change is scary, and there’s no take backs on this one.”

“I—yeah, it really is,” Ivan admitted. “We both really wanted this and now I’m scared shitless.”

“Anyone would be,” Luka agreed. “But you’ve got Mylène. She’s probably scared too. You can be scared together, and you can get brave together.”

“She doesn’t act scared,” Ivan said begrudgingly. “She’s all plans and excitement and—“

“And keeping busy so you don’t figure out how terrified she is?” Luka chuckled.

There was a pause on the other end of the line. “You think so?”

“I don’t know,” Luka admitted. “I mean, I know it’s been a long time since I’ve seen you guys and maybe I don’t know what I’m talking about. But I know that she’s facing all the same things you are, plus all the craziness of actually carrying a child in her body. If she’s not completely terrified, I’ll eat my guitar.”

“Yeah,” Ivan said slowly. “Yeah, I...shit, I’ve been so wrapped up in my own head that I never even questioned it.” He paused. “I gotta talk to her.”

“Probably should. But Ivan, you and Mylène have so much love. I’m not worried about you. You love her and you love the baby and I truly believe you’ll be okay. You can’t play the whole song the first time you pick up an instrument, right? You’ve gotta break it down. You don’t have to be perfect on day one. You’ll learn as you go.” He chuckled. “I mean, if my mom could do it, you guys should be gold.”

“Thanks, man. It sure is good to talk to you.”

Luka smiled, touched. “I’m sorry I’ve been so out of touch. I’ll try to do better.”

“No sweat, man, you’re living your dream. Speaking of which,” and Luka raised his eyebrows because he’d never heard Ivan sound sly before, “I hear you’ve been spending a lot of time with Marinette.”

“As much as either of us can spare,” Luka chuckled. “Which is not nearly as much as I’d like, honestly. She’s…” He paused. “She’s grown up a lot since I saw her last. We’re trying to take things slow and just...see what happens.”

“Luka,” Ivan said flatly. “I know you love her. You’ve been in love with her since we were kids. What the hell are you waiting for?”

Luka sighed heavily. “I don’t know, I...it just seems kind of crazy, doesn’t it? That she would just somehow show up out of the blue and suddenly I can have everything I ever wanted. It just...it sounds too good to be true. I keep looking for the catch. And that’s—it makes me feel like I’m not being fair to her, too.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know, this shit is just...complicated.”

“Marinette makes things complicated, it’s like her superpower or something,” Ivan snorted. “But I never thought you would be the one to get things all tangled up. Just let it flow and be happy, man.”

Luka sighed. “I want to, I just…after last time...I mean I told her that I don’t hold it against her, and that was absolutely true, but it just...makes it difficult. Moment to moment, I’m so happy, I just—” He rubbed his hand over his face. “Damnit, I just got Juleka to lay off the gloom and doom, and now I’m doing it.”

Ivan was silent for a moment, and then he said, “Maybe I should be the one asking you what you’re afraid of.”

Luka lifted his eyes and stared at his empty living room. This, he thought. I’m afraid loving her and thinking she loves me back will change things so much that I’ll never be satisfied again when she leaves. “I’m afraid she doesn’t mean it,” he said quietly. “That whatever epiphany she had while she was away, whatever it was about seventeen-year-old me that she was missing won’t be enough for her to stay once she’s gotten closure on the what if.”

There was a shuffle on the other end of the line. “I mean, I guess that’s fair,” Ivan conceded. “So maybe it’s smart to keep things slow. At the same time, you know Marinette overthinks everything, and she cares about everybody. I don’t think she’d have approached you if she wasn’t pretty sure this was what she wanted. I mean, she has to know how badly it would hurt you if she couldn’t stick it out so...she must be pretty sure.”

“I hope you’re right,” Luka sighed. “Most days I think so too. We’re...we’re really good together. It’s—” He blew out a breath and shook his head. “It’s just too damn perfect is what it is. I can’t possibly be this lucky.”

“Now that sounds familiar,” Ivan chuckled. “I seem to remember you saying the same thing at the party we had to celebrate you signing with the label. Ugh, listen, man, I gotta get back to work,” Ivan said apologetically. “But—thanks for reaching out. And for the advice. Mylène’s putting together a gender reveal party, we’d love it if you and the girls could come.”

“Definitely,” Luka smiled. “Just text me the date as soon as you have it so I can make sure we stay free. Take care, Ivan. I’ll try to be in touch more often from now on.”

“You too, Luka. See you around.”

Luka lowered the phone and sighed, but he was smiling. He still didn’t know what to do about the song, but at least he felt less alone. He tapped his phone on his knee and stood up.

“All right, Couffaine,” he muttered. “Back to basics.” He went back into the studio, queued up a beat on his sound system, turned up his amp, and picked up his guitar. Forget trying to write, it was time to have some fun. He moved his body to the beat for a moment, and then started to riff.

***

When he finished at the recording studio that evening, he had a text from Juleka. Marinette’s hanging out with us until you’re free, just come over when you get home.

The sound of laughter greeted him when he walked into Juleka’s apartment and he had to smile. He found all three girls sitting around their dining room table. Juleka was laughing a full-body laugh that usually meant she was laughing at him. “And yeah, she was drunk,” Juleka choked out between giggles. “But the girl was hot, I mean sex on legs. So she’s rubbing all over him and she got like, no reaction, he’s just looking at her and his face was bright red but with this bored expression, and so she says, ‘What, are you gay?’ and he said—he said—” Her face was turning red, she was laughing so hard she couldn’t breathe, let alone finish the story.

“Whaaaaat?” Marinette whined, and Juleka just shook her head, laughing so hard she was silent. Rose was also laughing too hard to finish the story.

“I said, ‘Maybe I’m just not turned on by a complete and total lack of respect for personal boundaries.’” Luka supplied, leaning against the wall. “That got her to rear back enough for security to get a hold on her and they dragged her drunk ass off me and threw her out. Do I need to get you some oxygen, Jules?”

Marinette burst out laughing, and Juleka put her face on the table, still shaking with laughter. Rose, pink-cheeked and giggling, rubbed her back and encouraged her to breathe before she passed out.

Luka watched the three of them laugh with a smile on his face and a stinging sensation behind his eyes. I want this. I want to be able to have this forever. “I’m glad you guys think it’s funny,” he grumbled, trying to look put upon. “She smelled like a frat party.” He shuddered.

Marinette giggled.

Luka smiled and held out his hand. “Had enough of these two lunatics yet?” Marinette smiled and took his hand, and let him pull her up out of her seat.

Juleka raised her hand and waved, her head still down on the table, though she was finally breathing and not laughing. Rose did the same, still rubbing Juleka’s back. “Have a good night, you two!”

“I’m glad you came,” Luka said as they crossed the hall. “I know you’re probably tired.”

“I am, and I probably shouldn’t stay too late,” she said, as he opened the door, “but I wanted to see you. How’s the music going?”

He shot a soft smile back at her as he hung his keys back on the rack. “Pretty terrible, actually. I really wanted to see you too. You want to watch something? Or I could put some music on.”

“Music sounds good. Unless you want to play?”

“I do not want to play,” he snorted. “The guitar is in time out after all the frustration today. Which is probably good, honestly, I was playing myself sore and getting nowhere.”

Marinette frowned as she watched him go to his sound system and start up a playlist. “Why so much trouble?”

“I don’t know,” he lied, and then sighed, collapsing on the couch. Marinette slid into his lap and he put his arms around her waist. “I mean...I sort of know,” he admitted. “I get these surges where everything really flows and then there’s always sort of a slump afterwards, so that might be it. Except this...doesn’t feel exactly the same.” He sighed and rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “I’m trying really hard here not to admit that I missed you so much I was too depressed to write music, but there it is, I’m just that pathetic.”

Marinette giggled. “You’re not pathetic. I think it’s sweet.”

“I don’t even know how to say it without sounding weird,” Luka sighed. “But it’s just...I don’t know, you just put out this creative energy and it’s easy to get caught up in.”

"Mm.” Marinette looked slightly surprised and mildly amused, but not put off, and he relaxed a little. “Do you know why I came over tonight?” Marinette asked him, with a tenderness in her voice that he wasn’t prepared for, “Even though I really ought to be either working or sleeping?” Luka blinked at her. “You’re so steady and calm. It’s...I don’t know, grounding? I needed that today. I really needed it.” She shifted to put her head down on his shoulder. “I’ve always been surrounded by crazy energetic people. Nino can be chill, but he can also lose his chill spectacularly. The only people who’ve ever really given me this peaceful feeling are my mother, and you. I didn’t realize how badly I needed it until I was away from you both.” She sighed, but he could hear the smile in it, even if he couldn’t see it at the moment. “So if you’re pathetic, I guess so am I.”

“Marinette?”

“Hmm?”

“You think, when your presentation is over...maybe you could help me redecorate?”

Marinette lifted her head, looked around at the room, white-walled, with the same white blinds and off-white curtains that had been here since he bought the place. “ Re decorate?” she said drily.

He chuckled and squeezed her lightly. “Yeah, I never had the time or the taste to do much. It was fine before but...I think it could use a little color now.” He chuckled. “Maybe some of your energy will stay.”

“We can do that,” Marinette said, turning to look at him. “It’ll be fun. Now if only I could think of a way to carry your steadiness with me.”

Luka grinned, and dug in his pocket, coming up with a smooth, flat, translucent blue stone. “Sea glass. I found it on a beach we were visiting, oh, I don’t even remember how many years ago. Bigger than what you usually find and kind of a rare color, so I kept it. I’ve carried it with me for years. I like the symbolism, I guess. Seaglass starts out as plain old broken glass, and it takes decades to wear the rough edges away and make it like this. This little rock has been going with the flow probably for longer than we’ve been alive.” He took Marinette’s hand and closed her fingers over the stone.

“Luka, you don’t have to—“

“I want to,” he told her, dipping his head slightly to meet her eyes. “Whatever else happens, Marinette, I always want to be here for you when you need a calm place.” He cupped her cheek in his palm and kissed her softly.

Marinette smiled. “Thank you, Luka.” She reached up and ran her fingers through his hair. He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. This time his sigh was shaky.

Marinette tilted her head slightly. “What’s up, Luka? You seem...I don’t know, kind of emotional tonight.”

“Yeah,” he said roughly, and cleared his throat. “Sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry. Just tell me how I can help.”

“You are helping. Can you just...hold me for a while?”

Marinette moved away to tuck the sea glass stone in her purse, and then shifted their position so that his head was on her shoulder, and her were arms wrapped around him. One hand continued to slip through his hair. “You shouldn’t be so lonely, Luka. I know how much you love your family, but you need friends, too.”

“I’m figuring that out, I guess. I called Ivan today.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah,” he said, nuzzling into her neck. “It was good. I need to try harder. I need to be a better friend.”

Marinette pressed her lips into his forehead. “You just need a little balance in your life. I know getting started was hard, I know it took a lot of work to get to this point. But you’re successful, now. You don’t have to be working constantly. You can find a balance. You're good at that.”

“Yeah?” Luka smiled against her skin. “What about you?”

“I’m still in the hard part,” Marinette sighed ruefully. “I still have a lot of work to do.” She nudged his temple with her nose. “But—and I don’t mean this to sound mean, Luka—I’ve managed to do it without isolating myself. I kept my old friends and I made new ones. And I know you feel awkward with new people, but you’re so kind and so warm and you have such a big heart. There’s no reason for you to feel so alone.” She hesitated. “And...I know from experience that I can’t be the only support in your life. I can’t stand being smothered.”

“I wouldn’t.”

“I know.” Marinette’s fingers moved down to stroke the short hair at the nape of his neck, and his eyes closed in pleasure. “I heard from Juleka how careful you are not to lean on her too hard. But burying yourself in work isn’t the right answer either.”

“I get it,” Luka said softly. “You’re right. I didn’t realize how alone I felt until you were here. I’ll start reaching out more, I promise.” He cuddled closer to her and changed the subject. “Are you ready for the movie premier Thursday?”

People were getting tired of the XY scandal and the reporters he’d been dreading were bound to start showing up sooner rather than later. Luka had an invitation to a movie premiere Thursday night, and it seemed like as good a time as any to go out and officially be seen with Marinette. After some discussion amongst the three of them, Lucille had put together a press release and Luka had sent it to his friend at the entertainment magazine, requesting that he hold onto it until Wednesday and promising him an interview in exchange. At least this way they could control when and how the news got out, and it meant they would be public before Marinette’s presentation to the internship committee. Marinette would just as soon have kept it under wraps until afterwards, but Luka and Lucille were both convinced their secret would get out on its own before then.

Marinette sighed. “I suppose.” She paused. “There was kind of something I wanted to talk to you about for that.”

“Okay.”

“I don’t want it to sound weird.”

Luka huffed a chuckle. “Then don’t make it weird. Just say it, Marinette.”

“Okay.” Marinette took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I want you to know I’m not going to wear my designs when we go out together.”

Luka blinked. “Okay.”

“Listen, I know that you know that I’m not after you for your fame,” she said earnestly. “You know that and I know that and Juleka and Rose know that, and whatever anybody else thinks isn’t important.”

“I’m with you so far.”

“But people are going to say it. Especially because of Adrien. They’re going to say I used him to get that internship and that I’m using you now to promote my business.”

“They probably will,” he agreed quietly. “But like you said, we all know it’s not true.”

“It isn’t, but it is,” Marinette shot back. “It’s not the reason why I want to be with you, but it is a side effect. People will pay attention to us when we’re out together.”

“They will. I don’t mind, Marinette. Your designs deserve all the attention they can get.”

“Well, I know it’s probably practical to think that way,” Marinette sighed, “but I just can’t. I don’t want those rumors to be even a little bit true. So, here’s what I’ve been thinking.”

“I’m listening.”

“I made a lot of friends while I was away, a lot of talented young designers who are amazing but who may not get a chance at exposure like this for years. I did a lot of trades. I’d rather wear something from one of them.”

“If that makes you happy, Marinette, I certainly don’t mind.”

Marinette chewed her lip. “You don’t think I’m being ridiculous?”

Luka shrugged, his face still against her neck, breathing in her perfume. “I don’t, but who cares if you are? It’s your body, your business, and your peace of mind. I’ll support any decision you want to make about those things.”

Marinette sighed, laying her head on his. “You’re so sweet, Luka.”

“I may not have been a great student but I did pass being a decent human being with flying colors.”

“I missed you so much today,” she murmured unexpectedly, sending a lightning thrill along his nerves. Her nails dragged lightly around his scalp and he muffled his moan in her neck.

“I missed you too.” He turned his face slightly and dragged his tongue lightly along her pulse, enjoying the way she gasped.

“I thought you just wanted to cuddle,” she teased, fingers sliding up and down his arms.

“I did. We did.” He nosed up her neck to press a kiss just under her jaw, and lowered his voice to something deep and warm. “I like cuddling.” Luka trailed soft, slow kisses along her jaw to her chin. “I like that we can talk about things together.” She moved to meet him as he kissed her mouth, softly and then deeper. “I like it when you hold me.” He kissed her again. “I like it when you touch my hair.” Luka rubbed his nose lightly along hers.“I just...like being close.” He kissed her again, trailing the fingers of his left hand along her cheek and down her neck, and Marinette arched into his touch. Her eyelids fluttered and then her blue eyes focused on him with all the warmth and want he could have wished for. “And I like when you look at me like that,” he whispered as her arms wound around his neck. Luka pressed close, sliding his hands up her back and wrapping her as tightly to him as he could. “Can I really have this?” he mumbled into her shoulder. “Are you really going to stay?”

“What was that?” she asked breathlessly. He raised his head and kissed her long and slow.

“Nothing, baby. Just...tell me you missed me again.”

He kept her much later than either of them intended, lost in soft touches and deep kisses and a burning want that was growing harder to deny. It was tempting to ask her to stay, but her clear exhaustion and his unsettled mood kept the question behind his teeth.

Luka went to bed alone.

***

With the movie premiere date/announcement all planned out, and they were probably on their last few days of privacy now, and Luka hated that they couldn’t spend more of those days together. He had meetings with his record label all day, which always left him a little annoyed. Luka knew he ought to be grateful for their focus on the bottom line, because it kept him bringing in a paycheck, the kind of paycheck he could barely conceive of when he first started in this business, but their general lack of artistic vision and integrity always grated on him. He glanced at the time and wondered if she’d be finished soon. She’d been working a lot of late nights as the deadline loomed ever closer, and he knew she was annoyed to be losing time for the movie premiere at all.

He should leave her alone, she was busy. She was working, like he was supposed to be working. It would be really, really lame to bother her just because he missed her.

Luka squeezed his phone in his hand.

She probably wouldn’t even answer.

He called anyway, sighing at his own neediness.

She picked up almost immediately. “Hey, Luka, what’s up?”

“Hey,” he grinned broadly. “Just had a few minutes and wanted to check in. Are you busy?”

“Swamped,” she sighed, and his heart sank. He could hear people and machines in the background and concluded she must be on the production floor. “There’s so many things to do and we’re starting to run short on time. Honestly, we might be here all night.”

“Have you eaten?” he asked, and sighed at the guilty pause. “Come on, Marinette, you know what’s going to happen if you don’t eat and hydrate. You’ll lose a lot of time if you pass out or break down.”

“I know, I know, I just—I didn’t plan for anything and I don’t have time—”

“How about if I bring you dinner?” Luka asked, perking up at the idea. “I’ve got some time before I have to get back to the studio and I’m not getting anything done here. I could bring in dinner for your whole team if you want.”

“Luka, that’s too much, you shouldn’t—I mean—well, I guess I could ask, but you have your own things to do and—”

“Marinette, I’ll buy dinner for the whole damn building if it means I get to see you for a few minutes,” he said without thinking, and then coughed, embarrassed. “Seriously, it’s no big deal. You want to send me an email with what you want? Or you can just tell me how many people you’ve got there and I’ll call Lu, I’m sure she knows somewhere that would work.”

“I hate to bother Lucille over something like this,” Marinette fretted.

“She gets paid to put up with me bugging her for stupid things, and I don’t do it often, it’ll be fine,” Luka promised. “Just tell me how many people and if there’s any restrictions and I’ll pick it up and bring it over myself. I’d love to see you work, if that’s allowed.”

“Mmmm, sort of? Normally you wouldn’t be allowed, but since this room is only working on my stuff and it’ll be after hours anyway, I can probably get you in. Let me know when you’ll be here and I’ll talk to security.”

“I’ll text you,” he promised, and hung up, grinning.

***

There she was. Like lightning on the water, a charge he felt tingling on his skin even from this distance, beautiful and dangerous and thrilling.

Luka made a mental note to write that down later.

The person she was speaking to spotted him and said something, and Marinette turned and lit up with a smile. She waved at him and signaled “one minute.” He raised one hand in acknowledgement and thanked the departing security guard who had escorted him in. Luka set the takeout bags carefully down on the floor at his feet, stuck his hands in his pockets, and waited, humming the bridge he’d been working on to himself.

Everyone in the room had clearly taken advantage of the fact that they were here after hours. Shoes, jackets, and ties were discarded, collars were loosened. Marinette herself was gorgeously disheveled, padding towards him her stockings with her blouse untucked from her skirt and her hair piled haphazardly on top of her head and tied with what looked like a piece of scrap fabric.

“Holy shit that’s Luka Couffaine,” a voice hissed to his left, and Luka glanced that way.

“Oh God, he heard me,” one of the young men breathed. The wall behind the young man’s worktable was adorned with a large poster of Luka in full stage gear and makeup, which is to say, looking nothing like he currently did except for the tattoos on his bare arms and the blue tips of his hair. It took a pretty devoted fan to recognize him out of costume. Luka smiled to himself and turned back to Marinette.

His smile widened into a grin as she walked up to him. “Hey heartbreaker,” he greeted. “Hungry?”

Her eyes travelled deliberately over him and heat crept up his neck. “Definitely.”

“Jaques,” the young man hissed, “Jaques, Luka freaking Couffaine is blushing at my boss and I can’t deal.”

Luka heard the sound of someone being smacked upside the head and bit his lip to keep the laughter in. “Interesting folks you have working here,” he said to Marinette as she rolled her eyes. “Think you could introduce me to my fan over there, or will he have a heart attack if I talk to him?”

“He might,” Marinette giggled, waving a couple of people over to take the food from him. “But he’ll be too excited to stay dead for long.”

“You could have warned him.”

She shrugged. “This is so much more entertaining. And to be honest, I kinda forgot.” Marinette made a face at him and he chuckled.

“I feel so appreciated,” he teased.

“I bet Francis would appreciate you,” she teased back.

“C’mon, introduce me before this gets weird,” he laughed, putting his arm around her shoulders.

“Oh my God,” Francis gasped as they came his way.

“Luka, this is Francis,” Marinette said cheerfully. “He’s a big fan of your work.”

“Hey, Francis,” Luka gave his most friendly smile and offered his hand. “I’m Luka.” Francis kept one hand over his mouth. The other shook as he grasped Luka’s. Luka squeezed his hand lightly, reassuring, and used his smoothest, mildest voice as he said, “Nice to meet you.”

“Your music saved my life,” Francis whispered, and Luka’s expression softened from mild amusement to genuine concern as he covered their joined hands with his free one.

“I’m glad it helped you,” Luka said warmly. “I hope you’re in a better place now.”

“Yes. Yes, I am, but I...I’m serious, I wouldn’t have made it through that time in my life without you.” Francis flinched. “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to make it weird, it just—I never expected to meet you this way and why can’t I stop talking—”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Luka moved his hand to Francis’ shoulder. “I’m just a regular guy who likes to play music. Thank you for listening to it. I’m glad my music could touch you, and I’m thrilled that it could help. Thank you for telling me, that was really brave, and it honestly means a lot to me.”

“You, um…” Francis’ eyes flicked over his shoulder to Marinette, who had retreated to deal with some issue or other. “You and Marinette, are you…like, together?”

“Yeah, but…” Luka put a finger to his lips and winked. “Let’s keep that to ourselves for just a little bit longer, okay? I’d really appreciate it if that stayed off social media for a few more days.”

“Right, of course,” Francis said breathlessly, nodding a little too fast. “I got it.”

“Well, thanks for being a fan, Francis, and thanks for helping Marinette out. I know she appreciates your hard work, and I appreciate getting her back in one piece and mostly sane at the end of the day. Do me a favor and take care of her for me, okay?” Luka glanced at the poster behind Francis. “I can sign that, if you like.”

Francis eyes went huge. “Oh my God yes please. Uh, pen, I need—”

“It’s good,” Luka chuckled, reaching in his back pocket for the sharpie he kept there. “I hate disappointing people so I try to be prepared.” He signed the poster, choosing not to hear the frantically whispered conversation behind him that he was pretty sure was about his ass. Thankfully, Marinette was there with a plate of food when he turned around.

“Are you eating with us, Luka?” she asked.

“I was hoping to,” he smiled at her. “But I don’t want to interrupt your work, I know you’re busy. I can go if I’ll be a distraction.”

“You can stay for a while,” she smiled up at him. “Unless Francis sews his finger to the garment or something.”

Luka flinched. “Ew.”

“Sorry,” Marinette laughed at him. “Hazards of the trade. I’m sure it’ll be fine. Come on, I’ve got a work table over here that’s mostly clear, we can eat there.” He noticed the tension in her shoulders.

“How are things going?” he asked.

“I have faith that we’ll get there,” Marinette said with less conviction than she probably intended. “It’s only my entire reputation and future career on the line after all.” Her hand came up to grasp a pendant on a black silk cord that hung around her neck. When she let go, he saw it was the blue sea glass stone he’d given her, wrapped artistically in silver wire.

Luka had missed having the stone in his pocket since he’d given it to her, but looking at her now, wearing it and taking comfort from it, having turned it into something practical and beautiful, made giving it up totally worth it.

“You’ll make it,” Luka said with the confidence Marinette lacked. He caught the annoyed look she shot him as she fished out their food, and smiled. “I’m not patronizing,” he said, keeping his voice low. “You’ll make it. You might have to scale some things down, you might have to edit, but creativity and adaptability are your greatest strengths. Even if you do wind up having to change your original vision to make the deadline, you’ll come up with something fantastic. Maybe even better than what you planned.” He caught her hand and squeezed it before letting go. “There’s no shame in having to cut an idea and save it for later. I’ve done it, on songs that weren’t working or when I come up with a good line or riff that just doesn’t fit the melody. It’s a sign of maturity as an artist.”

“That’s true,” Marinette said thoughtfully as they began to eat. “I’m much better at editing than I used to be. That’s—“ she paused. “I’ll be right back,” she said, and suddenly she was across the room like a shot, flipping through a stapled printout and scribbling notes.”

Luka chuckled and continued eating. When Marinette returned he could see in her eyes that she wasn’t all there, so he stayed quiet other than quietly encouraging her to eat when her fork stopped moving. When she pushed her half-empty plate aside and stood up, there was purpose in her movements.

“Huddle up real quick, team, I want to make some changes.”

Luka watched her give orders to her team with both curiosity and admiration. Marinette wasn’t much older than anyone else in the room, clearly much younger than a couple of them, but she spoke with confidence and conviction. He’d seen her make motivational speeches before and she’d always been good at them, but that was class president good. This was take-the-fashion-world by storm good.

He had to take a deep breath and let it out slowly. She was stunning when she was in charge. He watched the faces around her go from worried to relieved to excited.

After she dismissed the team back to their work, Marinette did slow circles around the room, checking in, offering encouragement or correction, carrying things from table to table. She was competent, she was in control, and even stressed out of her mind and on a deadline she was kind . She reminded people with still-full plates at their elbows to eat, she corrected mistakes gently. When people had questions, she was confident in her answers, even when it took her some time to come up with them. The place hummed with slightly manic energy and he could feel it seeping into him.

I’m not going to get any sleep tonight, am I? he thought as his fingers began to lightly tap out a beat on the tabletop.

“Marinette,” Luka called softly as she passed him, and she turned. “Scratch paper?” She smiled and brought him paper and a pen. He hummed softly to himself as he made some notes, pen in one hand and fork in the other. The fork was quickly forgotten; several times in her rounds of the room Marinette nudged him to remind him to eat. Vaguely Luka made a mental note to talk to Lucille about setting up more collaborations. He was really thriving on just being near the energy of other creators. His head began to bob as he closed his eyes to listen to the bass line forming in his mind.

#quickspins #backlog #second chance #lukanette #i am lukanette trash i admit it #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug #mlfics #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng

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crystalblueskie · 5 years

Text

I got bored and wrote some jokes. Tell me if you like them.

So, to get started let me tell you a little something about my family. My mom is disabled and so she has a service dog named Callie Ann...that is such a country white girl name, Callie Ann, amirite? Anyways, so this dog obviously goes everywhere with us: doctors offices, grocery store, restaurants. Normal service dog stuff, you know? But for some reason, everybody stares at her like it's the weirdest thing they've ever seen. A dog wearing a vest walking around Target... I use Target because Walmart is too controversial. Walmart: EVIL!! Target: fair game. Walmart: Trump Target:...any other president. Anyways: dog wearing a vest walking around Target, a vest that blatantly say "SERVICE DOG" on it mind you and random people like to just walks up to us as we and the dog are minding our own business and ask "Is she a service dog?" *Stares bewildered* and every time I'm thinking in my head "I DON'T KNOW, WHY DON'T YOU ASK HER VEST!"..."no, no ma'am we just slapped a service dog vest on her so she can go everywhere with us. Thank you for asking. Goodbye. Have a nice day." Another thing about this dog, I love her to death I really do. It's fun we have a young dog in the house again, she loves to play with anything that squeaks or makes a weird noise, I'm getting exercise again! Yay! But my mother takes it to a WHOLE 'NOTHER LEVEL!! We'll out shopping...*whispers* at Target...and we'll walk past the dog section... I'm trying to walk past as fast as possible. My mom stops right at the mouth of the aisle and walks down it. Shit, I know how this goes. My mom and her dog happily trot down the aisle and her dog smells all of the toy until eventually she smells a toy for more than three seconds...my mom is ready. She talks in that annoying baby voice, you know the voice right? *in an annoying baby voice* "Do you like that toy? Yeah! You like that toy? You want that toy? I'm gonna get you that toy!" SHIT. Toy goes in the cart...We end up leaving the store with more dog treats and a goddamn dog toy. Ever. Single. Time. And I'm over here thinking, if I got a toy every time we left the house as a child, I would have more toys than my tiny, little, ADD-riddled brain could handle. Now a days I'm a old 24 years old. If you don't know what that means, it means I'm mentally 24 years old and physically 80 years old. I'll be walking around the house like this *walks around like an old lady holding my back* and my mom will be looking at me and ask "what the hell are you doing?" And I'll yell back to her "what does it look like? My back hurts!!" I look outside "Get the hell of my lawn, you mangy kids!!" Anyways that obviously means I am a young millennial, which basically means that I remember when Netflix was delivered to your front porch and when Blockbuster was a thing. Also, I was told I needed to go to college or I wouldn't amount to anything. Jokes on them, I still didn't amount to anything. I got a Bachelors in Individualized Studies which means I was indecisive about my major and when I graduated I got a piece of paper basically thanking me for my participation. After 5 years of college, I got a piece of paper thanking me for participating in college. Think about that. This is what happened, I was originally going to school to become a teacher, but to become a teacher you must first waste your time taking a bunch of bullshit teaching classes like "How to teach Math" and then after about 3 years you have to submit a portfolio answering questions such as "Why do you want to become a teacher?" Maybe because I need a job and I was told the only way to get one that pays well was to go to college and I like kids sometimes and I took a course in school where I was basically a teachers assistant for 2 credits a semester and this seemed like the easiest job to get at the rip old age of 18. WRONG!! I was so very wrong!! What my teachers and professors failed to tell me was that to even get accepted into my colleges teaching program is not only do we have to answer the portfolio questions is: you have to pass 2 tests. This is what the TAKS tests were really preparing me for. One test was on Math. At this point, I have not done basic Mathematics in 2 years. The other test was on English and Grammar. I have barely passed my English courses with C's my entire life. The cards were not in my favor. You get approximately 60 minutes to finish each test. They take you into this office and you get a little locker and a key in exchange for your Drivers License. You are expected to place your phone and your purse or bag in the locker. They then place you in a separate room with desks with computer lined up against the wall. And at the opposite end of the room, smack in the center is a person that is paid to sit there and make sure you don't cheat. That is their only job, to sit there and stare at you like this *stares around room* am I making you nervous? *whispers* good. Because that is exactly how I felt the entire 60 minutes. And the thing is they don't even give you scratch paper for the math portion, just a TI-84 calculator. You know the ones that cost like 250 dollars and were fucking MANDATORY in middle school? Little secret about those calculators, they have 4 games on them. Yup. Found that out really quick. I used to sit in class on my calculator and the teachers would be none the wiser as I played the same game on my expensive calculator for the whole hour. I still play on it to this day. Anywho, no scratch paper, just an expensive calculator that I can play games on but forgot how to graph on. And I don't know about you guys, but I can't do math in my head like some people, I'm not wired that way. So, I had to go up to the creepy guy paid to stare at us and ask him for scratch paper. At one point I got so involved in solving a problem that I kept getting answers that were not multiple choice options, that I ran out of time and automatic failed 8 out of about 50 questions. A month later I found out that I somehow managed to get a B on a test I didn't finish. *whispers* I'll take it. So, the first time I turned in my portfolio, I had the tests scores that they were looking for but not the detailed answers to their profound questions. I obviously did not get into the teaching education program the first time. A year later I was allowed to turn in my portfolio again. This time I got smart, I made my sister proofread and rewrite my answers for the incentive of 100 dollars of my financial aid. *whispers* I got in. Now at this point, you're probably wondering why I told you all of this and why I don't have a Bachelors in Early Childhood Education like I intended after I went through the torture of 5 years of college and my acceptance into the TEP and the answer to that is, I showed up to the TEP orientation to be told that I had to take 2 more years of teaching courses and at that point I had been in college for nearly 5 years and I was like "There is no way in Hell that I was going to graduate after nearly 7 years of college just to teach children how to count and what the primary colors are." That was probably my biggest mistake in life. Just FYI, all of your childhoods are a lie. Red and Blue are not Primary colors. Cyan, Magenta, and Yellow are the true Primary colors according to the art wheel. To those of you that don't know Cyan can also be called Sky Blue and Magenta is a bright shade of Pink. We good? Good. The definition of a Primary color is a color that cannot be made by combining any two colors. They just exist in the world as is. Still good? Okay. Blue and Red by definition are not Primary colors because they can be made by combining two colors. Blue can be made by combining Cyan and Magenta. Red by combining Yellow and Magenta. They are by definition Secondary colors, colors that can be made by combining two primary colors. Look at that, you came out to have a good time and I tricked you into learning something, I am a teacher. I'm just kidding, I'm lying I didn't always know that. I always thought the Primary colors were Blue, Red, and Yellow just like all of you. I learned that how everyone learns things nowadays, YouTube. Anyways, moving on. The other day I couldn't sleep to save my soul, I had insomnia. And I noticed the weird way that I lay in my bed. It looks a little something like this. *walks over to a pillow and Petunia laying in the middle of the floor* One moment I'll be laying like this *places right foot on side of left knee* You think that ones weird wait until you see the next one. Next minute I'll turn over and be laying like this *place left foot on top of right knee* and then I'll turn over again and do this *pull legs up closer to my body and place them slightly apart* I don't know what this one is, it's like when Deadpool got ripped in half by Juggernaut in Deadpool 2, sorry spoilers. And his lower half has to regrow and he's standing there in front of the remainder of X-Force and Cable but his legs are that of a toddler. That's what this looks like to me, a grown ass person with baby legs trying to run away from something. And then I'll turn over AGAIN and do this *lays almost on front and places left foot of the side of right knee* know this one , this ones not even a sleep position, this is the fucking tree pose from my beginners yoga class. *Stands up and does the tree pose placing both palms together.* Just *hums yoga hum*. That's what that is right there. Haha. I got so bored one morning around 6 o'clock that I decided to clean the mess that was my closet. I had shoes thrown all over the floor of the closet and smack in the middle was a laundry basket that had all the clothes I had ever worn in 3 months. I opened the doors up *pretends to open doors* and I just screamed *screams* and then promptly fainted. Right in front of my closet. That is how messy it was. And the ironic part is that I have OCD. That mess was too much for my tiny, little OCD-riddled brain could handle at 6 in the morning. Which was ironic considering the fact that I had been living with it for 3 months and my OCD didn't seem to mind. But the minute my brain decided it wanted to clean that mess, suddenly my brain was overwhelmed. It took me approximately 2 hours to clean out the junk filled drawers in my dresser and put all of my spring/summer clothes away. Some of you probably noticed I said spring/summer clothes, that is because my autumn/winter clothes do not fit in my room anywhere. So they lay in a tote, a room away, until the temperature starts to drop, and then I would change them out. Men you don't realize this but every girl you know has more clothes than she can count, and some of those clothes, *whispers* she don't even wear. I have a half a closet full of skater dresses, that I wear once in a goddamn blue moon, just because I wanted to feel pretty that day. Interesting thing about switching clothes out, it's not even a new thing. Back in the 19-whatever's girls and women would have a hope chest that was filled with dresses for the spring/summer time when it was autumn/winter outside, and vise versa when it was spring/summer outside. I learned that story from my beautiful mother over there, because one day I pointed to her mothers hope chest and asked what it was used for. Interesting fact about me and my grandmother is that if you look at pictures of her when she was around the age of 13 sitting at the pool, my 13 year old self looked exactly like her, facial expression and all. My grandma unfortunately died of Breast Cancer 5 years after giving birth to my mother, her only surviving biological child. I say "biological child" because after my grandma had so many miscarriages and stillborns, she and my grandpa gave up and went to purchase a child *whipers* from Target. Haha. I'm just kidding, everyone knows that babies come from heaven and that storks carry them down in their beaks to a random families' front porch and leave the baby there to get stepped one when the Husband or Wife goes to check the mail. Probably the Wife, husbands are useless at running errands. You tell a man to go to the store to get 5 items and he comes back with 1 maybe 2 of the items that you had purposely written down on his arm so that he would remember everything. Do women have to do everything? Even figure out what's wrong with our own cars because we've been asking you to do it for 2 months and you keep saying "I'll take a look at it as soon as I have time." "As soon as you have time, bitch? That's right now!! You're sitting on the couch watching goddamned football and drinking beer. Guess what either you can record or pause your game for 15 to 30 minutes or you can sit there watching it and not have anything to eat for dinner, because I was so busy doing your "job", that I forgot to do my "job"." I put quotations around job because I don't understand why the cooking and the cleaning and the children-taking-care of has to be done solely by the woman and why yard work and fixing cars and sitting-on-there-all-day-watching-the-game-while pretending-to-take-care-of-the-children has to be done solely by a man. I don't work like that. Everyone can do any household job. For example, I have broken the side mirror of my moms car 2 times now. Do you think I was just like "Oh, well, I don't know how to fix a mirror I'll have to take it to Chris to get it fixed." Just FYI, Chris is a real person, he's my mechanic for things that I can't fix on my own. Hey, Chris! I didn't just give up, I did what every person in my generation do, I turned to YouTube and typed into the search bar "How to change the side mirror of a 2005 Ford Focus" *ding* Millions of videos pop up. I click on one, I watch it, I now know the basics for how to change a side mirror on a car, I took me exactly 5 minutes to learn it. How long did it take you Chris? Since then I have now replaced 3 of my mothers side mirrors. One on the drivers side that she did, and two on the passenger side that I did pulling in and out of the garage. Both times. YouTube has gotten ridiculous. Remember way back when when it was filled with music videos and people would post videos of them singing along to the songs. Nowadays, you can search anything on YouTube and find a video on it. For example type in "how to get mangy kids off my lawn" and you will most likely find a ridiculous video on how to keep children and dogs off your lawn. I love YouTube, I watch a lot of gaming videos, some Youtubers that I watch are Markiplier, Jacksepticeye, the GameGrumps (creators of the fabulous game DreamDaddy), The Fine Brothers or FBE, Graveyardgirl or Bunny, and Good Mythical Morning with Rhett and Link. Search any of these Youtubers and watch their videos, and you will not be disappointed. I love how there's a channel out there for any genre. Baking, Cooking, Make-up, Video Games, React Video, and ,my personal favorite, rant videos. Do you guys remember when Chris Crocker did the "Leave Britney Alone" video? He was ugly crying and I'm pretty sure wearing mascara and guy liner and he just keeps yelling into the camera for 30 seconds straight "LEAVE BRITNEY ALONE!! LEAVE BRITNEY ALONE!! YOU *points at person* LEAVE BRITNEY ALONE AND YOU *points at a different person* LEAVE BRITNEY ALONE!!!" And it just goes on like that for 30 seconds of a guy ugly crying over Britney fucking Spears. You thought girls where the best ugly criers, you were wrong, it's the gays. Gays overpower all girl powers by like a 100. A girl will be like "Look at my make up isn't it nice?" And a gay guy with jump out of nowhere add flawlessly apply FaceOff quality make up and be like "you look beautiful, do you like my sexy alien?". Anyways, I just love YouTube, I could watch YouTube video of people playing scary games that look interesting to me but I'm too scared to play *whispers * all day long.

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psyched2b · 5 years

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Dallas’s Birthday Month Celebration

Yes...another one!

Alright, so I am sure that some of you have noticed that I am finally posting those Drabble Challenges from my 200 Follower Celebration. Technically, I stopped receiving those requests a few weeks ago, HOWEVER, since it is my fur baby’s 3rd Birthday on November 17th and since I am at nearly 300 followers, it seemed fitting that I just keep the celebrations going. (Let’s be real, it’s a lot of fun doing those requests anyways!)

So there will be a NEW Drabble Masterlist (when I get some requests that is!) Something that will be different this time is that I will have tags for my completed drabbles. If you are on my EVERYTHING tag list and DON’T want to be included in the drabbles, shoot me an ask or a message. Otherwise, if you want to be added to the drabbles or just my tag list in general, fill out this form. ALSO, I added 12 Christmas AU prompts that you can either request by itself or with any of the dialogue prompts BECAUSE IT’S CHRISTMAS TIME.

Questions, comments or concerns? Send them my way!

Rules:

1. Please be following me!

2. Send in your request VIA ASK!

3. You can send in as many as you want but SEND IN SEPARATE ASKS. (Please use the appropriate emoji ex. ✏️ 🎼 💚 ❓⭐️)

4. This celebration will end November 30, 2018

Things To Do:

1. ✏️Drabble Challenge: Below the cut are 84 prompts. Send me up to three numbers with your Marvel character pairing and get a drabble in return!✏️ (Read Completed)

2. 🎼Musical Names: Send your name/username and get a song playlist for every letter.🎼

3. 💚Character Ships: Send in a brief description of yourself and I will pair you with a Marvel character! 💚

4. ❓Get to Know: Ask me any question! Or tell me something about yourself! I’d love to get to know you!❓

5. *NEW*⭐️ Headcanons: Send in your request for a headcanon with one (1) specific Marvel character and I’ll give you my thoughts/expand ⭐️

PROMPTS:

1. That’s starting to get real annoying. 2. You can’t just sit there all day. 3. You’re seriously like a man-child. 4. You can’t banish me! This is my bed too! 5. She’s hiding behind the sofa. 6. You’re Satan. 7. Do you really need all that candy? 8. How is my wife more badass than me? 9. Stop being so cute. 10. Welcome back. Now fucking help me. 11. I could really use a hug right about now. 12. Tell me you need me. 13. Welp, that’s tragic. 14. I would kill you for a cup of coffee. 15. What is this ‘sleep’ you speak of? 16. Sorry isn’t going to help when I’m kicking your ass! 17. I’d rather die than do that. 18. Can you shut up for five minutes? Please? 19. The floor is lava. 20. Where’s my food? 21. Get out of my way before I murder you. 22. You’re breaking my heart, babe. 23. I think you forgot who wears the pants in this relationship. 24. It’s just rain, you aren’t going to melt! 25. I don’t know why I married you. 26. What do you think a cupholder is for? 27. This is where you impress me, right? 28. I bet you can’t go 24 hours without swearing. 29. I’m not weird, you’re just basic. 30. Just sleep with one eye open, that’s all I’m saying. 31. You’re never this quiet, what’s wrong? 32. …or we could make out… 33. K. 34. I think you need stitches. 35. This is your fault by the way. 36. I have fans. More fans that you. 37. I paid for half and you ate three-quarters. 38. If you die, I’m going to kill you. 39. Stop looking at me like that, weirdo. 40. Sorry, I’m protective over the things I love. 41. You’re an idiot. I married an idiot. 42. I lied. I never liked it. 43. Are you trying to flirt? Because you’re just embarrassing yourself. 44. You don’t hate me. Quit lying to yourself. 45. Doesn’t make a difference to me. 46. I try my best. 47. You look pretty good for your age. 48. Delete it. Now. 49. No, you’re MY bitch. 50. Do you ever stop smiling? 51. You’re the one who left it hanging around! 52. You’re sick, not dying. 53. The weather’s too bad and I refuse to let you drive in it. 54. I love you the most-est. 55. Sausage or bacon? And no, not my sausage. 56. Did you just…put ketchup on your eggs? 57. You didn’t do the dishes, therefore I’m not doing you. 58. I don’t love you anymore. 59. “Did you just hiss at me?” - “Are you judging me?” 60. “You’re lying, you’re blushing.” - “Shut up, no I’m not!” 61. “I want my best friend back.” - “Kevin is over there.” 62. “What do you have?” - “Pizza rolls and Cup O’ Noodles…that’s about it. Popcorn?” 63. “Open this.” - “Can you say please?” 64. “Babe, I’m sorry.” - “Suck my ass.” 65. “It’s not mine, I swear.” - “How is it not fucking yours!” 66. “Boo?” - “You’re my boo.” 67. “I hate you.” - “No, you don’t.” 68. “It’s not fair that you’re hot and funny.” - “Look who’s talking…just kidding, your jokes suck.” 69. “You’re a blanket hog!” - “Leave me alone and stop being so selfish.” 70. “You can’t make me.” - “What are you? Five?” 71. “Well, this is awkward.” - “Don’t touch me.” 72. “…then I picked up your coffee by mistake.” - “All I want is an apology.” 73. “I’m your lock screen?!” - “You weren’t supposed to see that.” 74. “Your voice is sexy.” - “Your ass is sexy.” 75. “Come inside, I’m sorry.” - “Not until you apologize.” - “I just said I’m freaking sorry.” 76. “Take a chance.” - “Umm…let me think…no.” 77. “Move!” - “Why would I move if I’m so comfy where I am?” 78. “What time is it there?” - “We’re in the same time-zone.” 79. “This bath is too damn hot.” - “This is why we can’t do cute things. You complain too much.” 80. “I’m gonna shower.” - “Pft, don’t I get an invite?” 81. “Fuck you.” - “If you want, go ahead.” 82. “Sorry I’m late, I had some things to do.” - “By ‘things’, she means me.” 83. “You’ve been replaced.” - “Alright, we’ll see how you feel when you need me to kill a spider in the shower.” 84. “Sorry.” - “Good choice.”

*Prompts were gathered from multiple different posts @prompt-bank

CHRISTMAS AUs

85. For goodness gracious, IT’S 3 AM PLEASE STOP CAROLING 86. You threw a snowball and it hit me/my window and I was going to be mad but you’re really cute. Do you want to come in for hot chocolate? 87. This is the fourth time you’ve come to ask for sugar this week. How many cookies are you making? 88. We’re at an ugly Christmas sweater party and that thing is horrendous where did you even find that 89. You don’t realize I can see over the fence to watch you make snow angels like you’re five years old 90. You would literally make the best neighborhood Santa 91. Are you the one putting mistletoe absolutely everywhere in this apartment building, or do you just happen to be in the right place at the right time every single time I walk under it 92. I just heard a ten-pound turkey hit the ground and also very strong words. Do you need help? 93. I work at the Christmas tree lot and you just had to pick the heaviest tree there didn’t you au  94. You were putting up Christmas lights and you just fell off the roof omg do you need me to drive you to the hospital 95. I invited you to Christmas dinner as my boyfriend/girlfriend so that my family would stop pestering me about being single, but we can keep this up until New Year’s, right? 96. I’m going to eat this whole pie by myself and you’re not going to say anything about it

Collected solely from @say-hey-kid

*Prompts were gathered from multiple different posts @prompt-bank

#Dallas's Birthday Celebration #Marvel Drabble Challenge #Marvel Character Ships #Musical Names #Get to Know #Marvel Headcanons #yes...another celebration #Happy Birthday Dallas!

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kaileah-kat · 6 years

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‘Tis me with part three

I’m only doing the mains because I’m lazy :’)

Here are some backstories that ended up being way more in depth than planned... oops. Logan also has the most basic background because I didn’t know what else to do. In short; I tried :,) I hope you all enjoy it regardless!

HERE’S PART ONE

HERE’S PART TWO

HERE’S PART FOUR

HERE’S A FLOOR PLAN

(Also some warnings: Angst, Deceit, Death mentions, One mention of a panic attack{not detailed}, bad explanations of things) Please let me know if I missed anything!

Logan:

He wants to do something with his life; preferably something with astronomy. The kid loves space damnit.

But what? Teaching? Be a freaking famous scientist? He doesn’t know.

He used to pretend he was teaching about stars to his stuffed animals (and Emile, against his will) but he was like 8, things change.

When he was 17/18 he was still trying to figure it out and college was just slowly inching closer.

You would think he would have himself together by then, but nope!

His parents were kind of pushing him to get his act together.

Emile was also on his ass about it. He’s 24 and has his shit together already, time to help his baby bro out.

They have a lovely discussion and figure a couple years at community college would be best until he figures his life out and then he can transfer to another school if he wanted to.

Emile also plops an application on his desk.

“What’s this?” “Step one to getting your life together.”

“Why?” “Do you want some money during your college years or not?”

He applied, was hired, and he hasn’t left yet.

Probably won’t any time soon.

... He’s still figuring it out.

Roman:

Roman was adopted when he was 5.

Romans parents were too young and they couldn’t support him so after he was born he was put with a foster family. (*cough* they end up adopting Roman later.)

But hey, Roman’s a naive 5 year old, he doesn’t really know wtf is going on. He just wants to play with his dinosaur toys.

His now parents explain more when he’s around 8/9 and from that point on he decides he’s going to be the best freaking kid in the universe.

He’s what we like to call an overachiever.

He joins any sport, any club. He acts, sings, paints, creates. He can play the flute. He needs to relax.

He doesn’t admit it, but he secretly wants to gain some sort of approval from the people who weren’t in his life, even when he doesn’t know who they are. He knows they exist and it kind of pains him that he was “given up”.

He knows the people that raised him will always be proud of him, but would they be proud if they knew him?

Fast-forward to when he’s 16 and decides to add one more thing to the list of things he has done in his life thus far. He applies for a job at Rainbow Mart.

He nails the interview and is hired. He’s saving his money for college. He also doesn’t truly know what he wants to do either, but he’ll figure it out when he needs to. He’s thinking about something creative because that’s his true passion. The creative aspect of life :)

Patton:

Patton was the most adorable child, okay, let me tell you s o m e t h i n g.

He basically went up to his parents when he was 5 and said: “I want a brother!”

His parents were a little shocked at first but then basically go “Hey, why not?” They make like Sims and go for the “Try for baby” option. (I’m so sorry for wording it like that. My comedy is awful.)

But hey kids, this isn’t an angst-free zone. In short, they couldn’t have another baby. They kept trying over the course of a year and it just wasn’t happening.

But sweet Patton, an optimistic little bean, doesn’t lose hope! He will get a baby brother or sister soon!

Fast-forward through a bunch of legal things and Pattons parents refusing to quit; after Patton turns 7 his parents bring home small (and silent) 4 year old Virgil.

“Mommy, why is he so quiet?” “He’s probably a little nervous sweetie, he needs time to adjust.” “...Okay but how long will that take?” “Patton...”

Patton has extreme determination to befriend his new brother. He has tried everything, but he still won’t speak. He offered a chance to play with his rubber ducks damnit, what else does Patton need to do?!

Patton thinks for a long time, and also becomes a bit dramatic by going into his moms' room and jumping onto the bed with a sigh.

“Mommy, he still won’t talk to me. It’s been ten y e a r s!” “Patton, it’s been two months.” “But that’s so l o n g!” “Patton...”

All of a sudden you see him jump from the bed and excitedly talk about this kid named Timmy who speaks with his hands.

“Patton that’s sign language-” “Do you think he’ll talk to me if we learn that?!” “I don’t see why we can’t try.” (spoiler: it works)

Fast-forward nine years, he heard his friends from school were applying for jobs. To save for college, just to have some money, etc. He decides to apply to Rainbow Mart simply because he thinks the experience will be fun. He doesn’t really care about the money part.

Now a quick ending because his piece is long: He enjoys doing what he currently does so much. He thinks he wants to work his way up to a front end manager, he’s not really sure. As for college, he likes the sound of elementary teaching (maybe? possibly?), but he’s honestly comfortable with where he is. So he’s just at community college until he makes a final decision on where he wants to head in life.

Virgil:

Unfortunately, Virgils parents were in the wrong place at the wrong time. They got into a car accident when they were on the way home from work and didn’t make it. (Virgil was about 1)

Now a tale of two unfortunate circumstances: All of his grandparents passed away before he was born and both of his parents were only children. In short, he’s put into the foster system.

Unlike Roman, he hops around a bit. And after he turned 4 he was adopted.

Virgil has a hard time talking to his new family, but hey, he’ll get used to it. It’ll be fine.

But if this older boy doesn’t relax his 4 year old self might scream.

After two months, Patton practically runs into his room with a book and goes “I know you don’t want to speak to me with your words, but how do you feel about speaking to me with your hands?!”

Virgil just shrugs and lets Patton teach him.

When Virgil was around 5/6, he hugged Patton and Patton heard the audible words “You’re a great brother.” Patton cried, just a little bit.

Virgil grew more comfortable with audibly speaking to Patton, but school and making friends was a whole different story.

When he was in fourth grade, a boy named Kyle sat next to him and wouldn’t stop talking.

Virgil stayed silent. Kyle thought he couldn’t hear him so he starts signing everything because he has an older brother named Timmy who’s deaf. (Don’t we love connections?)

Virgil eventually grows comfortable with being audible and they’ve been best friends ever since.

Fast-forward to 15 year old Virgil: Patton and Kyle are both simultaneously trying to convince Virgil to apply for a job at Rainbow Mart. (Kyle’s been there for about a year because of where their birthdays fall.)

“C’mon man! It’ll be so much fun!” “I don’t know...”

“Yeah, Virge! Maybe it’ll break you out of your shell a little bit!” “Maybe...”

After about an hour of a mini-debate, he decides to apply. Patton makes cookies to celebrate.

Virgil nearly had a panic attack during his interview, but Thomas made easier and said he could use sign language. They just had to find an interpreter and he was all set.

Virgil's piece is also very long. Here’s another brief ending: Virgil is hired. He meets Belial and it’s not very pleasant. Virgil’s also planning on going to college but he doesn’t know what to do yet. He’s still in high school, he has a little more time.

Belial (Deceit):

I’m going to keep his short and to the point, I’m getting really lazy.

He’s evil for a reason, the reason being his parents.

In short, they f-ed up the kids' emotional state.

He’s that one kid on the playground with a little squad that walks around and kicks kids sand castles down.

All because he has anger management issues and takes his hatred towards his parents and places it onto others.

When he turned 17, his parents said he was to either get a job or get out.

I’m pretty sure it’s obvious which choice he made.

He wasn’t saving for college though, he was saving to get tf out when he was old enough to do so.

He worked his ass off, got an apartment at 19, decided to work full time at Rainbow Mart and was able to move his way up to a front end manager position.

Tune in next time where I possibly feel comfortable with writing some fluffy ship-posting. ;)

Tagging of the peeps: @time-capsule-for-the-future @leesbiaq @bunny222@unknownsandersfan @confinesofpersonalknowledge @thequeensqueer@spectacled-renegade @roman-is-a-gay @fearfilledvirgil @tisithelittleelephant@altruistic-skittles @kittyinthemoon @virgilcrofters @arnyanimaltrash156@wildheart49 @an-ace-up-my-sleeves @cyberpunkjinx @phlying-squirrel @jay-son-toddler @romanthroughthestars

Let me know if you want to be added/removed!

#sanders sides #sanders sides au #thomas sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #deceit sanders #supermarket!au #tis mine

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prettyfunkyunorganized · 6 years

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If Things Had Been Different - Gabe pt 3

The lovely @zarcake-writes inspired me to keep going with this one, so have some more pre-fall Gabriel and baby Sonya. She’s finally here! And not doin’ so good. Because I’m cruel. A bit over 3,000 words.

WARNINGS: premature babies, struggling newborns, talk of drugs, talk of infant death. Sorry peeps. No one is dying on my watch though! I ain’t that evil. Yet.

More If Things Had Been Different - Gabe: pt 1, pt 2

Reaper’s Original Daughter Series: pt 1, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5

It was another night camped out by the NICU – Neonatal Intensive Care Unit – for Gabe. He’d been here every day for a month, and things didn’t seem to be getting much better. When little Sonya was born, he’d been at the base. And it had happened over a month early. By the time he arrived, a doctor had been waiting for him with a very, very grave face. Everything was a blur of confusing medical terms with occasional blurbs he understood.

‘Premature.’

‘Difficult delivery.’

‘Decreased lung function.’

‘Ventilator.’

‘Incubator.’

‘Opioid addiction.’

Fucking opioid addiction.

Thank god Ruby was in some rehab facility far away, because Gabe wanted to strangle her. His daughter was born addicted to fucking heroin.

He’d never been so angry in his life.

Or destroyed, just utterly demolished inside. The first time Gabe saw his little girl she was in another room, in what looked like a terrifying glass cage, tubes hooked up to her tiny body with a giant one strapped to her mouth, all sorts of sensors and . . . things stuck to her. She was so tiny.

And beautiful. Trembling, discolored, and flailing about wildly, but stunning.

There was a wash of baffling emotion and Gabe instantly knew he loved that little bundle more than anything else in existence. Nothing would ever be more important to him, ever.

Since then, there had been innumerable conversations with doctors, nurses, and Jack. Gabe was doing his best to juggle Overwatch, Blackwatch, and itty bitty Sonya, but it was proving daunting. That other month to prepare would have been great, but too damn bad. Being a father was about manning up and doing what was necessary. Somehow he managed to get a little apartment and a very expensive nanny set up, but now they just waiting for his daughter to come home to, but not yet.

Still, not yet.

Hell, he still hadn’t held his baby properly. The nurse had tried to hand Sonya over to him once, but her tremors had spiked so terribly that they put her right back in the incubator. Gabe had flat-out cried, unabashedly. He just wanted to be close to her, comfort her, tell her to hold on and show her how loved she was. But no. She was too sick. Struggling too much. So much more than any infant should.

At least he was able to rub her back and belly a few times, his hands slipped through the holes in Sonya’s little cage. Her heartbeat had evened out a bit at the contact, but Gabe had the bigger reaction – falling all over himself laughing and beaming when Sonya grabbed his finger.

Even fighting for her life, she was perfect.

With a deep sigh, Gabe leaned against the window and gave a small wave to the head nurse on duty. Andrew, his name was. Good guy. Kind, caring, all that good stuff and, somewhat surprisingly, just huge. Ripped, over 6 ft tall, and hands that could hold four regular sized babies, much less the little preemies in his charge. Incredibly gentle though.

Andrew waved back, holding up one finger as a signal that he would be out soon. Hopefully that was good news.

“God I hope so,” Gabe sighed, trying to pop his back.

“Perhaps if you got some proper sleep, you wouldn’t grimacing like that,” a familiar voice came from behind.

He twisted around to see Ana and Jack walking toward him. It looked like Jack didn’t want to be here, and Ana was in the mood to start shit – which Gabe could not handle tonight. Why the hell were they here?

“You do look tired, Gabe,” Jack said standing beside his friend.

“I am,” Gabe responded flatly, “but I’m not going to sit in my office and do paperwork when I could do it here, watching my baby girl.”

“You know, when I had Fareeha everyone told me that a little separation is a good thing,” Ana said snarkily, eyeing Gabe, “why don’t you – ”

“Stop,” he snapped, Gabe’s hands clenched in sudden anger. “This is different, and you know it, Ana. All I’ve had is separation! I can’t feed her, I can’t hold her hand, I can’t kiss her forehead – hell! I can’t even be in the same room as her! My Sonya is a month old, and I’ve never even held her!”

“Wait,” Jack butt in with a frown, “still?”

“Still! But ya know what,” Gabe said leaning off the wall and taking a step closer to Ana, staring her down as she began to worm away a bit, “despite the fact that I have to bond with my newborn child through the plaster, I’m still at work nearly every day, planning missions, reading dossiers, and managing my team. If that’s not enough separation for you, you can kiss my ass and tell me – ”

“Gabe,” Jack said tentatively, trying to stop the situation before it got even more heated, but it was too late.

“AND TELL ME,” Gabe repeated through a tight jaw, “how did you feel when people were telling you how much to hold your child? How would you have felt if doctors had told you that little Fareeha was too weak to breathe when she was born? That she couldn’t stop shaking or stop vomiting or hyperventilating? My Sonya’s lived most of her life with a fever and has already had more morphine than most people will have in their whole lives! Don’t fucking talk to me like I’m doing something wrong, because I’m doing the best I can in a situation you can’t even fathom. Fareeha was born healthy and stable and ready to come into the world. Sonya wasn’t. So yeah, I’m here at the hospital a lot, but no more than you were in Fareeha’s nursery when she was this young.”

Ana took a deep breath and put her hands up in surrender once Gabe had finished. She wasn’t one who liked to admit she was wrong, but she stood down this time, keeping her lips tightly pressed together. Gabe only huffed and turned back to Sonya.

The three old friends stood side by side silently, not sure where to go from this tense state, but eventually, Jack spoke up again, soft and understandingly.

“Any idea when you will be able to take her home?”

“No,” Gabe murmured, “she’s had a few good days, but her lungs have been holding her back.”

“Poor kiddo,” Jack whispered, shaking his head. “She’s got so much . . . stuff hooked up to her.”

“I know. I know . . .”

Jack all of a sudden snorted out a rough laugh, making Gabe frown at the blonde man confusedly. “Sorry,” Jack said with a small laugh, “it’s just that she has so much hair! I don’t think I had that much until I was like seven.”

Gabe burst out laughing. “Yeah, she gets that from my side of the family. Definitely a little Reyes.”

“That she is,” Jack said with a smile, “and if she’s got half as much strength as you and the rest of your family, she’ll pull through.” He put a hand on Gabe’s shoulder and squeezed firmly. “I have faith in her.”

“Thanks, Jack,” Gabe said, letting himself relax a bit.

“You were right,” Ana said quietly, “I can’t imagine going through this.” Her eyes were locked on Sonya as she spoke. “I knew things were bad, but . . . I shouldn’t have insinuated that you were doing anything wrong or that you shouldn’t be here. I overstepped, and . . . I’m sorry.”

Both of Gabe’s eyebrows leaped up. Ana? Apologizing? Damn! She was a proud woman and apologized to no man – which was great, Gabe absolutely loved that about her. It also made her apology twice as meaningful.

The two men exchanged an impressed glance then grinned in perfect unison. Of course they had to give her a little shit, too. Just a little.

“Um,” Gabe smirked, “what was that? Could you say that again?”

“Wait, wait, wait! Let me get my phone,” Jack said grabbing at his pockets. “I gotta record this!”

“Oh, fuck you guys,” she said rolling her eyes, smiling playfully.

And just like that, all was forgiven again, the air around the three of them light again.

“Well, we just wanted to see how you were holding up,” Jack said with a stretch, “but I suppose we’ll head back to the base. Unless you need some company?”

“No, no,” Gabe said shaking his head, “I really do have a big old stack of paperwork I should be doing right now. I’d like to be a bit more caught up when Sonya is cleared to go home. I’m hoping I can take a few more days off, if that’s possible. Even just two or three would be amazing.”

Jack nodded furiously. “Of course, Gabe. You’re still entitled to all the paternity hours you would have received if things had happened more, uh, traditionally. Things are a bit more complicated since you’re heading Blackwatch, but we’ll cover for you as much as we can.”

“Yeah,” Ana agreed. “I can run those loons of yours through some proper drills, do some proper survival training with ‘em. That’d keep a bunch of your guys busy for a while.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Gabe said nodding slowly.

“I know,” Ana said in a sarcastically smug tone. “Just let me know when you want me to whip them into shape.”

“You just tell us what you need, and we’ll figure something out,” Jack said slapping Gabe on the back, “and for Christ’s sake, sleep in a bed, man. I know you want to stay close, and I think that’s great, but take six hours out of the workday if you’ve got to. Your fucking eyebags are sticking out as far as your damn cheekbones.”

“I’ll crash soon, I promise,” Gabe replied with a chuckle.

“Good, good. You should be glad Angela didn’t come with us,” Ana said, “she would be lecturing you into the ground right now.”

“Oh she sends me a long, scolding email every day,” Gabe groaned.

There were a few more goodbyes and some wishes of good luck, but soon Gabe was alone in the hall again. Unfortunately, the glaring fluorescent lights and hospital-y smell seemed more oppressive now. The loneliness was creeping in again. Maybe he should have kept his friends around a little longer.

“Mr. Reyes,” someone said, pulling Gabe from his meandering thoughts.

“Yes, Andrew” he replied, rubbing his eyes before looking up to see the large nurse in front of him.

“I’ve got an update for you.” The smile on the man’s face made Gabe’s heart feel a little lighter.

“What’s up?”

“Sonya’s lungs have responded to the newest treatment wonderfully,” Andrew said, “We were going to remove her ventilator and give you another chance to hold her again.”

Gabe straightened up and was at least twelve times more alert. “Seriously? I can hold her?”

“We’re hoping so,” Andrew said with a nod. “We are going to see how she does breathing on her own, just give her a few minutes, but then if she’s doing well, we will let you in. At the very least you can have a bit of physical contact tonight.”

The wave of relief that wrapped around Gabe was practically euphoric.. “That would be incredible, Andy, thank you.”

“Of course, Mr. Reyes. We’ll start as soon as I get back in. If you see or hear anything unusual, don’t panic. This is a big step for her, and she’ll need to adjust.”

He nodded eagerly, eyes glued to Sonya as the staff gently handled her. It was a frightening thing to watch, but there wasn’t any panic. Holy shit, she was doing okay. She was okay! She was actually getting better! Maybe the end of this constant terror was finally in sight.

A few minutes passed slowly by before Andrew looked up with a smile, gesturing to the door. Gabe had never sprinted so fast in his life.

“She’s alright, right,” Gabe asked before Andrew could get a word out, but the nurse only laughed.

“Yes! Sonya’s doing fantastic, we’re feeling excellent about her progress over the past few days. All upward motion.”

“Thank God,” Gabe whispered, rubbing his tired face.

“Hopefully a little snuggling will help her out, too. Come on,” Andrew said waving Gabe in.

Stepping into an intensive care unit always made Gabe’s stomach clench, but being in a room specially designed to keep struggling babies alive just tore him apart inside. No matter how excited he was to hold his Sonya, he knew there as still a chance that the children around him might not ever leave this room alive.

“Are you feelin’ okay,” Andrew asked, rousing Gabe out of his sickening stupor.

“Yeah, yeah,” he sighed. “Where do you want me?”

“Right here,” Andrew said patting a chair beside Sonya’s incubator.

Gabe settled himself, automatically leaning toward her. She was looking at the world much more alertly than she was the last time he was here. The staff said that was normal for addicted newborns, but it was still severely disconcerting watching her have no reaction to touch or sounds. Now, she was wriggling about like any other infant.

“She’s more active now,” Gabe said as Andrew approached. “That’s good, right?”

“Very good,” he nodded in response, reaching down to lift Sonya.

A sudden, worried tightness tightened Gabe’s gut. Did he know how to hold her right? His baby training was such a crash course . . . What if he didn’t support her head right? What if he supported her head too much? What if he did something and made her regress? What if something happened and all that progress was destroyed?

“Stop panicking,” Andrew said with a poorly hidden smirk.

“Wha-what,” Gabe said, his voice cracking embarrassingly.

“I have handed babies to scared moms and dads for years, so I am very well trained in spotting panic. Just hold out your hands, be mindful of her neck, and be gentle. You’ll both be fine, I promise! And I’ll be close by the whole time.”

Of all the things the Blackwatch commander had ever done, having Sonya placed in his arms for the first time was by far the most intimidating. And the most amazing. She was all bundled up in a tight little package, but Gabe could still feel how warm she warm she was, how soft. Her eyes wandered a bit, but kept roaming back to her father, which made him melt. Her eyes were stunning – dark and gorgeous and massive. Her chubby little arms seemed fascinated with the feel of his shirt but didn’t quite have the control to grab it. She was fumbling about the world, and it was incredible to watch.

He loved her. He loved her so much. Her scent, her curiosity, the way her body felt in his arms.

This was perfection, utter –

A series of beeps started bleeping away on the other side of the room, drawing everyone’s attention and making Sonya squeak in protest. Gabe held her tighter, bringing her a little closer to his face, murmuring soft reassurances, but his kind words fell flat when Andrew went darting over to the other incubator.

Something was very wrong with the other infant. Orders were being barked, and syringes were being grabbed. How could a baby that small need that much . . . whatever that was? It took a full five minutes before the frenzy ended and no one looked optimistic at the end of it all. Gabe had shifted Sonya to lay on his chest without thinking. He was pressing soft kisses into her perfectly round cheeks, half trying to keep her calm and half trying to calm himself.

“Is everything alright,” Gabe asked as another nurse came to his side. Andrew was still busy with the other baby.

“For now,” the woman said with a sigh.

“Do I need to leave,” he asked worriedly, desperately hoping he wouldn’t have to.

“No, not yet,” she responded with a weak smile, “Sonya needed some time with her dad. We firmly believe time with parents is one of the best treatments of all.”

Gabe swallowed hard before asking his next question, steeling himself for a possibly terrible answer. “I’ve gotta ask,” he began, “Andy was telling me that Sonya’s been doing better, but is she . . doing well enough? Is she gonna, well – Christ – is she gonna make it?”

“Mr. Reyes,” the older woman said putting a hand on his shoulder, “Sonya is getting stronger every day, made leaps and bounds over the last few days! She knows there’s more out there and she wants to see it. I absolutely think she’s going to be out of here, and soon, too. Just give her a little more time.”

“I will, of course. Anything she needs, she’ll get it, I just . . . I really needed to hear that,” Gabe said softly, pressing his head against Sonya’s. Every fiber of him wanted to hug her until the end of time.

“I understand,” the nurse nodded, “you just snuggle that sweet girl for now, and we’ll try to let you stay as long as we can.”

“You’re going to have to drag me away,” Gabe teased gently, nuzzling Sonya and grinning as her eyes went wide at the new sensation. It was painfully adorable.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” the nurse snorted oddly seriously while walking away.

“You think I can take ‘em,” Gabe whispered to his daughter jokingly. “We could make a run for it, you and I. Just book it for the door and keep running ‘til we get home. Would you like that? We’d get you out of this abysmal little room and show you some sunlight, play you some music. I bought you so many stuffed animals! Your nanny thinks I’m nuts, and, let’s be honest, she’s right, but how could I not spoil the most beautiful baby in the world?”

Sonya wormed in a way that seemed agreeable, and Gabe laughed.

“Oh my itty bitty Sonya, mi tesoro, mi cielito,” he hummed happily, “you’re everything I’ve ever needed, aren’t you? Feels like all I’ve been doing the past few months is get more and more empty, but you – you!” He rubbed his curly mustache on her forehead and Sonya made a cute little grunt. “Everything about your just feels good, mija. Except that you’re sick, of course, but look at ya – my tiny fighter. You’re a strong one, aren’t you? You’ll get through this. We will. We’re both going to get better, I can feel it. Give it a few days, and we’ll be holed up in our new home, forgetting all about this nastiness. I know it. I promise. I love you, Sonya. So, so much.”

@collinssie @zarcake-writes @watch-your-grammer

#mine #writing #overwatch #overwatch drabble #drabble #my drabble #gabe #sonya #jack #ana #if things had been different #daughter series

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deathvalleyqueen · 6 years

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Dude, why dafuq you lettin a 5 year old watch family guy? Do your god damn job as a parent and use discretion. No need to blame a creator because you fail at child rearing.

First off… I don’t let him watch it… my son has a tablet… it has a kids version of youtube on it and clips of it got through. He is always corrected but my 5 year old autistic kid really just likes the music during the end credits and the openings of most of Seth’s show. My husband and I are both MASSIVE fans of Seth so yeah do I watch Family Guy with my family… fuck yes. The last comment about thanks Seth was FUCKING SARCASM YOU TWAT. I don’t blame anyone… my kid likes what he likes… he loves big band music and listens to a lot of Seth’s other NON FAMILY GUY music on a day to day basis. It was something funny that made me giggle and you turn it in to a way to attack me on fucking personal level when you don’t know me so let me enlighten you.

I lost 4 babies before i had my son… he is my miracle, my life, my Sun and Stars how dare you act like you know anything about me.

I have been through hell for my kid, fraught to save his fucking life when he was born with a whole laundry list of medical problems my shitty ass doctors seemed to miss on my ultrasound… I watched my baby fight for his life since the day he was born and I fought right there with him. I fought so fucking hard to save him I ended up on the news with him because I needed to get him to hospital that would save his life because he is my baby and my fucking world. my kid has had 13 operations to save his life totaling over 48 hours on operating table, spent the first 3 and half of those 5 years hooked up to an IV for at least 12 hours a day but for a good chunk of that at least 16 hours a day. He has nearly died on my twice, avoided needing a multi-organ transplant and is thriving against every fucking odd the doctors told us. He won’t live to see his first brithday... his third... his fifth and my kid is giving them the pervebal middle finger and doing awesome. I have done all his care myself, No home nurses... limited help from his dad. I do the majority of his day to day therapy myself, I go to 2-6 doctors appointments a month were I am praised at my ability to raise and care for a happy well adjusted little boy who despite going through hell and being autistic doesn’t lash out violently as many would expect. He can’t eat… he can only drink… he is fed through a tube and goes through shit you don’t want to even know about just to be able to live a semi-normal childhood from his wheelchair with a happy smile on his face.

I gave up my job, my life, my saying goodbye to my grandmother and my own mother’s funeral for my son because he was sick and needed his mommy.

so my son likes the end credits of family guy and likes the opening music on american dad… he never watches the whole episode the post wouldn’t have been as fucking funny if I had explained all this… but ya know gotta be judgey as fuck about how someone else raises their kids.

I bet you don’t even have fucking kids. So do me a favor and FUCK OFF ANON.

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scubresaut-blog · 6 years

Text

( MYOUI MINA | CISFEMALE | SHE/HER ) you’ve heard of holly ikeda ??wait, really ? they’re the quiet intern who’s way too obsessed with gaming, ballet, & coding. somehow, they managed to major in electrical engineering in college. i think they’re twenty one. they’re the kind of crestfallen that enjoys musical plays, intricate computer problems and searching for new restaurants & foods. some people told me they’re supposedly pretty intelligent, open minded, & obliging. but i think they’re just blinded by a pretty face. they’re clearly standoffish, shy, & self-destructive. their favorite thing about buzzfeed is the data.

you guys are so fast my old eyes (and schedule) can not keep up ! this is a queue (late too bc who am i kidding anymore lmao) and i’m tori!! catch some facts about my baby girl under the cut and like this post if you wanna do some plotting tysm!

holly was born early 96 in houston, TX, to immigrant parents; by her birth registry her name is akane ikeda (literally means red yall), but only her family ever uses her japanese name tbh -- bitch have to fit in and stuff, so ! call her holly. only holly thanx

her parents were lq tiger parents tbh? she started ballet classes when she was about 4 or 5, and a few years later started cello classes too. always top of her class in her private school. the pressure wasn’t outspoken, but it was there, or at least holly always felt it & followed it perfectly

she has an older brother who was like?? her hero??? he is about three to four years older than her, and they always tagged along, from sports class to school and musical classes, etc. while holly never was popular, and was more of the outcast, quiet and meek, but with kai (her brother), she was the most comfortable and bubbly. said relationship continued up to their teenagehood!

that’s when all the nastiness of young age comes along. kai starts drifting apart to hang with his pals, always either in his room or in some of his friend’s -- if he was alone, he was snappy and angry, and if he was with his friends he was quieter, more careful.

holly only found out wtf was going on when she was 14, turning 15, when she, too, befriended kai’s friends -- rather, one friend, the imposing one. alistair was the leader of the boys and he was the first in years to take actual interest on her. it took little for her to completely fall for him, innocent and trusting and needy; during more or less two years they dated, and he taught her a lot. she wasn’t out of her shell fully, but it was easier for her to laugh and interact with others, always tagging along her boyfriend and their little gang, making a lot of his interests her own as well and giving some of hers up (dancing the most, some of the outstanding in her grades, her cherry). because that was what they were, and she was not only “the first lady” but a big part of the brains: while alistair made the plans and confided them (partially) to her, she did all the online bits with the coding, the hacking whatever information necessary, to getting them where they wanted.

she was nearly 18 when they planned the biggest heist, one directed to the government. she was to stay behind and use all kinds of servers for them not to be traced and all netizen bs, and so she started before the power went down. her parents had turned all off and turned them in -- minus their children who were involved. without holly’s backing and with the ikedas turning the crew in, the boys got caught & holly did, too, in her own way: the gang, alistair included, were arrested, and kai shipped off to learn his way back in an uncle’s house in japan. holly thought that’d be for her too, but instead her parents opted by keeping her close, under their reins. and for the first time in her life, she fought.

while she would still get good grades and even get into a good college, a major was picked out of spite -- so unlady like, so out of the norm she always felt imposed on herself; days she left home early and arrived at dawn were not little, nor were the ones she got home filthy drunk. she was still quiet, but the softness that was in her seemed to have melted under the fire of her anger. often she tries to break out of this image she has received, from the way she started to dress herself more sloppily, less preppy, more tomboy-ish (and...tbh?? like herself??), to the people she started hanging around (and fucking lmao), to her interests & to how, after over a decade, she has given up ballet (which is lq something she...regrets?? bc she loved it too but,,, #problematicfave)

she only has a few courses left to get her degree, and she decided to finish it away from home. 792 mi makes a great difference, especially when she was truly alone, out of her parents’ suffocating clutches. or is she? the whole idea for the internship in buzzfeed was her father’s, wishing for her to completely ignore her passion and follow a career in some office.

she picked the least serious one, again, out of spite, so when she got there she kinda...knew nothing about buzzfeed or of the trade and such? nor she had any interest, which she will now, almost six months later, still claim so but tbh...that’s debatable. she has always had some interest in food, in searching and trying out new stuff, and it shows not only on her searching browser but on how she has been working more with the tasty team, although she is not an official member or anything. if asked, she is just the one who suggests some recipes here and there

officially, she is still an intern and as such, she is there for every single problem: whatever it is, she often considers it below her, but does it diligently without any vocal complaint anyways. her most favorite parts of the work is IT work tbh -- if a computer doesn’t work, on the inside or some program or whatever

personality wise: quiet??? kinda brooding?? hq promiscuous and a bit of a drunkard, very into self destruction just because. she is the kinda person who is more in the corner, always quiet, often watching. there aren’t a lot of things that get a reaction out of her tbh. your average angsty sad fuckgirl young child who only wants to get drunk, fuck, sleep and do some coding (even though she is “forbidden” lmao @ parental power). she is also v fond of gaming (online games, such as league of legends the most), music (mostly classical and bubblegum pop) and cartoons (comic books & webtoons the most tbh) and uh ?? the color red??? she just loves tbh

what she needs??? love!!! self love, from others, to others,,,, poor girl,,,, truly, appreciate her and you’ll see her turn red and lq hq dying

also what she needs??? plots (give me a roommate pls) so hmu and forgive my late ass

#buzz:intro #this got long im shocked!! only not!! i sorry anyways sjdjjdjdjd love us

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gottalovetheletos · 7 years

Text

Shannon, a family man.

Authors note: I’ve had this idea brewing for a few days. I think it’s sweet. I hope you enjoy!!!.

WARNINGS: Cuteness.

Shannon Imagine.

“Wake up Mommy” my 4 year old daughter Eden shook my arm, my eye flew open to see her beautiful long hair blowing from the breeze of the fan and her sparkling hazel eyes just like her fathers. “Daddy made breakfast” I grabbed her and rolled her into a big embrace and tickling her sides making her laugh her infectious laugh. We rose from the bed, she took my hand making me follow her down the stairs. As we ascended into the kitchen I stopped to see my favorite sight. My gorgeous husband and our 2nd born, 2 year old daughter, Saskia, making breakfast together.

“Good morning, wonderful family!” I announced. “Mommy” my little Sassy shouted turning around on her yellow stool with arms out. I walked towards her with my arms stretched giving her the biggest kiss and hug” Holding her on my left hip I lean over to give Shannon a kiss too. “Morning beautiful, how are you?” I lean in for another kiss, answering at the same time. “Mmm, good thank you, you?” I asked back. “Surrounded by my gorgeous girls, can’t complain” he laughed and rubbed my 9 months pregnant belly. “How’s my boy too?” he gave my belly a final pat. “He’s kicking up a storm” I replied. Shannon helped Eden into her raised chair seat and I placed Saskia in her highchair. He’s made us all pancakes with a side of bacon and some mixed fruit with coffee for him and placed it on the table as I poured the juice for the girls and me. I love Sundays when Shannon’s home. He works a lot and I understood that when we first met. We make it work, however I appreciate him when he is with us. Sundays especially because of our traditional Sunday walk just before lunch time. We had our usual morning talks at the table including names for the baby in my belly. The girls liked the name Olaf. ‘Bloody frozen (Disney movie)’ I thought. “Good choice girls but I think daddy and I might choose a different name” I laughed. “What about Edison, we could nickname him Eddie?” I looked at Shannon. He raised his eyebrows. I couldn’t read his expression at all. “Erm. Maybe?” “Maybe, Shannon give me more than that please” “I feel like it’s too old fashioned, plus we can’t have Eddie and Eden, poor Sassy will feel left out”. “Okay give me some names babe” “Okay” he cleared his throat. “I like Joey, Arlo and Oakley”. “Ohh I like Oakley.. Oakley Leto. Has a ring to it don’t you think?” I asked the girls. They smiled with their mouths full of food. We cleaned up after breakfast and got dressed for our walk. Shannon dressing the girls in clothes I’d laid out, giving me time to get me and my pregnant ass in gear. It took us all nearly an hour to get ready. The girls were dressed pretty fast thanks to Shan. It was me who took a long time.

We left the house, Shannon and I holding hands plus the family dog in tow and the girls walking in front of us also hand in hand. We decided to take the girls to the park to play. They loved the rare chance they got to play games with their daddy, so every chance we did get we took. Once at the park the girls wanted to go on the swings. All I wanted to do was sit down. Being this pregnant really takes a toll on you. I found a bench and Shannon pushed the girls on the swings. I took this moment to think about how perfect my little family is. The girls quickly grew bored so decided to go on the jungle gym and Shannon came and sat beside me. “Perfect aren’t they?” he spoke. I looked at him “Funny, I thought that too. You are as well by the way” I told him. That brought a smile to his face. I just love this man so much. Once we’d finished at the park we made our way back to the house. As we reached the front door a car pulled up it was Jared with Constance. They made their way up to the front door giving each of us a kiss and a hug. We invited them in and we all walked towards the living room taking a seat on the 3 big sofas we had. Eden ran up to her Nana. “Nana guess what?” she asked. “I don’t know, what?” Constance asked lifting Eden on to her lap. “I’ve got a boyfriend”. Jared a Shannon stopped mid conversation. “Woah Woah Woah, I thought we agreed no boyfriends until your 50?” Jared laughed taking her from Constance’s lap. “nooo” She laughed back. Sassy was making her way over to her Nana. Constance picked her up and gave her a big cuddly squeeze. I loved seeing everyone together like this. “And how are you and my nephew doing?” Jared asked me. “Just fine thank you. How are you doing?” “Busy but fine too. Glad to get away for a bit and come and see my beautiful family”. I felt a tugging on my t-shirt, I carefully squatted down beside Eden to see what she wanted. “Mommy can we watch a movie?” she whispered. “Yes baby, shall we watch one in the garden after dinner too?” “Yeaaaaahh” she shouted. “Right mommy’s going to make lunch then I’ll go to the store for supplies” she nodded her head with the biggest smile on her face. “Can I get you guys anything?” “no thanks” Jared and Constance replied. I went into the kitchen and made the girls some sandwiches in the shape of lion heads.

“Girls come to the table please” I called from the kitchen. Eden came in clutching Constance’s hand and Constance was holding Saskia. She sat her at the table and helped Eden up. “So how are you doing dear?” she asked stroking my belly. “Really well thanks. He loves to kick at the moment and loves making me need to pee every 5 minutes” I laughed whilst looking down at my rotund bump. She laughed too “Oh, how I don’t envy you” “I’m going to the store if that’s okay. I need to get a few things for the movie tonight and do a food shop anyway” “Oh can I come with you I need to do a little shopping for Jared, he’s hardly got any food in his house” I nodded and told the brothers we’d be back soon and they were to be in charge of the girls. Constance and I hopped into the car and I drove us 10 minutes down the road to the store. We both got a cart each and made our way round. “You know, I’m glad Shannon’s managed to settle down with a lovely girl like you” She smiled. “Me too” I smiled back. “The boys are leaving the country for a couple of weeks next week would you like me to come down for a couple of days to help with the girls?” she asked hopeful. “I know what it’s like to be pregnant and have another child running around, and you got two running around” “Yes please that would be lovely. You could come and stay with us if you want, hell, you could stay for the whole two weeks if you wished” I told her. “Really? You’d want me around for the whole two weeks?” “Constance” “Please Y/N, how long have we known each other call me mom” “Sorry” I giggled. “Mom, you know I adore you and the girls do even more so. We’d love to have you stay” She hugged me. “Thank you” I knew she gets a little lonely when they leave. Plus how could I turn down a little extra help. After we arrived home I saw the girls had chocolate all over their faces. “Guys, if you’re going to give the girls chocolate and not have me find out. At least clean up the mess. You need to work on your snack ninja skills” I chuckled. Somehow the afternoon escaped us. Saskia was down for a nap, Eden was playing with Constance and Jared and Shannon were off talking about the band. I decided to start setting up the ‘movie theater’ outside. I laid the cushions on the floor and set up the projector.

It was 4 o’clock and I started making dinner. Saskia was now awake and downstairs in the family room with everyone. I was in the kitchen with Constance. “Sorry mom, can you please stir the sauce. I’ve got to sit down my feet hurt as well as everything else”. “Sure” she gave me a look of sympathy. We sat at the table in the dining room, eating, talking and laughing. After dinner I took the girls upstairs to change in to their pajamas and I changed into mine.

Eden was dressed in light pink pajamas with bunnies on and walked downstairs. Saskia and I were taking our time. Shannon came in to see what was taking us so long. He walked into the master bedroom and saw me staring at my bump in the mirror. “I look huge” I exclaimed. “Well, yeah. Baby you are growing another human inside you” he laughed. “How are you even attracted to this. I look like a whale” tears forming in my eyes. He looked at me, and he looked a little angry.

He grabbed my shoulders and pulled me into his big strong chest. “Y/N, how could you say that. I am always attracted to you, that why we have 2 children and a bump. You will always be beautiful to me” The salty tears fell from my eyes. “Fucking hormones” I whispered and laughed as he wiped my face with his thumb. “Let’s go and watch the movie shall we?” I nodded at his question. He picked up Saskia and we joined the others in the family room. Shannon opened the door to the garden and the children were mesmerized by the fairy lights around the trees.

I placed some popcorn in a coupe of big bowls and we sat on the cushions that surrounded the screen and covered ourselves with the fluffy blankets. Shannon and I on one and Jared, Constance and the girls on the other. Sassy laid on her Nana’s chest and Eden in between her Uncle and Nanna. I had my leg over Shannon’s and snuggled into his chest breathing in that familiar scent that felt just like home. I pressed play on the remote and Moana started playing. By the end of the movie the girls and I had fallen asleep. “Come on baby, let’s get you to bed” Shannon cooed. “I wish I wasn’t pregnant right now, then you could carry me upstairs. It’s unfortunate you can’t carry whales” I laughed sleepily. The girls were already in bed as Jared and Constance has taken them. Shannon proved me wrong and picked me up taking me to bed. He kissed me on the nose and tucked me in. “I’m going to see my mom and brother out, I’ll be up soon” he whispered kissing me on the lips. I nodded and closed my eyes.

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P.S. Do you want a part two where Oakley has been born? Let me know. Drop me a comment <3 x

#shannon leto #shannon leto imagine #shannon leto fanfiction #shannonleto #shannon leto fanfic

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carterashofficial · 7 years

Note

tell us a funny story about yourself ppppllleeeeeaaaaassssseeee (if you are alright with doing that) :P

Okay i don’t know if this qualifies as funny but it’s one of my favorite stories to tell because it showcases the difference between me and my sister Bug as small children. And also how epic her temper-tantrums were.

aka how I got my ass served to me by my sister.

So to begin this story, I gotta explain some things. Bug and I are about 6 years apart (5 years and eleven months if you ask her). I was a small child, which has led to me being a small adult at 5′4″. Bug was the Jolly Green Giant of toddlers, minus the jolly and the green parts. She was tall, and to put it delicately, wide. I mean that clothes she had at age 3 fit her seven years later when she was ten. Bug was pudgy in the extreme.

She also threw some epic tantrums that I remember vividly. My mother says I only ever threw a tantrum once, and my parents weren’t even there for it. My grandma had been watching two-year-old me and I wanted to help unload the dishwasher, starting with a steak knife. After the shortest tantrum in the history of tantrums, I apparently was back to my giggly self. When Bug threw tantrums, her whole day was ruined.

And so for this story, there’s a small nine/ten year old me, and three/four year old Bug. I don’t remember exactly how old I was, but it was around those ages.

About a week before the Incident happened, I got fed up with Bug being stubborn and selfish like any other toddler, and I slapped her none-to-gently on her cheek.

I was given a lengthy time out and scolded to never hit my sister again.

Now.

For the story.

Mom and Bug had picked me up from elementary school, and we’d walked home, one of the perks living about 4 blocked from school. Bug hated walking home. It was all uphill, and her fat little legs got tired, my mom’s arms got tired of carrying her... It usually didn’t end well. It was also hot out.

And so we get home.

A neighbor’s relative had passes away, and she was getting her mail when we walked by.

My mom stopped to talk to her and see how she was holding up. Mom also gave me the house key to let Bug and I into the house.

So I take the key, the Big Important Key to the House, and i stick it into the lock.

This is where Bug’s bad mood comes into play.

She shoves me to the side and starts insisting SHE was supposed to unlock the door. Nevermind that she didn’t know how, she’d gotten it into her head that she had to. But I knew I was the one supposed to unlock the door; Mom had handed ME the key and told ME to do it.

A minor tantrum ensued from Bug as we fought over the key.

My mom finished talking to the neighbor, came over, and started admonishing us for making a racket while Neighbor was crying over her relative. We’d been rude and embarrassed her.

Both of us were sent to our rooms.

Now, I’d hate to add in a little more background, but I’m going to.

Our rooms are at the end of the upstairs hall. Like, you run down the hall, you’ll end up in my room. If you hang a left at the end of the hall, you’ll end up in Bug’s room.

Bug’s room is smaller and less exciting than mine, because I had a bunk-bed and a fancy drape thing over it and a bench under my window. Bug had a rocking chair and toy box. She also had wallpaper about halfway up her wall, and she could reach it by standing on her bed. That’s important for later. Remember the wallpaper.

And so I go up to my room, ready to spend the next twenty minutes in there pretending I was sorry for whatever I did, because I definitely wasn’t sorry for trying to follow Mom’s directions to unlock the front door.

Only Bug followed me into my room.

She insisted it was her room.

I told her to get out. It was my room and only my room.

No, she insisted, it was her room. She wanted it, it was hers.

Then Bug proceeded to punch me.

Remember how I said she was pudgy and tall? I was your average small nine/ten year old, remembering when i’d hit her the week before and knew I couldn’t hit back. She was a fury-fueled fat giant who could kick and punch like she’d lived through Rocky.

I got my ass handed to me by my toddler sister.

Once I was curled up on the floor, she pranced out of my room on her toes and went into her room.

I got called down to set the table for dinner. After i’d arranged the knifes and forks and plates, I chilled on the couch.

That was when I started sobbing from shame, because

getting your ass kicked HURTS

getting your ass kicked by your baby sister is embarrassing

I was upset that I could’t fight back and that I’d been powerless against her

Mom sees me, gets all concerned. I tell her what happened, and Bug gets called down.

I creep around the hall corner to watch and listen because I was a little shit who wanted to see Bug get her comeuppance.

And if you think that’s all, there’s more. There is the Tantrum of the Ages that followed.

Bug was not sent to her time-out spot. She was sent to her room, door shut. She was livid. For about ten minutes she threw herself against her door, howling and screaming. Me and Mom could hear it down in the kitchen as we worked on dinner.

I was sent outside to play ball with our dog Jewel to keep her from getting underfoot in the kitchen (in case any food dropped and she would go at it regardless if it meant being walked into).

So it’s me, Jewel, and the other dog Domino. The three of us outside, me throwing tennis balls for Jewel and Domino being the resident guard dog and patrolling the yard in case any lizards decided to invade.

Eventually we all go back inside.

There’s no sound from Bug’s room. And she’s not downstairs.

I ask where she is.

My mom goes silent.

Quiet Bug after a tantrum is never a good sign.

The four of us, Mom, me (following Mom to see what Bug’s done), Domino (following me because he went where I went), and Jewel (following Domino because she didn’t like being left alone), all go upstairs, and Mom opens Bug’s door.

Remember the wallpaper?

Bug had climbed up onto her bed and torn the piece. And then she’d kept tearing. Nearly all her wallpaper was ruined, and the torn pieces were surrounded her as she sat smugly on her bed, sucking her thumb.

Mom used Bug’s full name when she finally took it all in.

I was a mix of horror and satisfaction. Sue me, i got a kick out of seeing her get in trouble, and my beat-up body felt like she deserved whatever she was about to get.

I have to give my mom credit for keeping her calm.

She asked Bug if she did all this, and yes, Bug said, she did do it.

Mom was speechless, and spoke in an eerily calm voice to Bug that she was going to be spending the rest of the evening in her room because she was in trouble and she would lose her security blanket for one hour (after that I was sent downstairs so I missed anything else).

When my dad got home, my mom explained that Bug had been acting up all day. I’d been beaten up by her, she’d thrown various tantrums, and she’d ripped the wallpaper off her walls, so Bug wouldn’t be out of her room for another half-hour or whatnot.

I got asked if I was okay, and it was explained to me that when I was told to not hit Bug, it didn’t mean I could defend myself. If someone was hurting me, I should fight back. And that night i got extra story-time before I went to bed.

Bug eventually got new wallpaper and my bruises healed. She never beat me up again.

And that is how I got my ass handed to me by a toddler.

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3arzal · 7 years

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mega fluff + that adoption au kinda thing + inspired by this tweet though i tweaked it a little bit and made it seem like yoongi knew it from the very start :((( i did ask for permission though there wasn’t any response yet but i thought i’d post this anyway i’m sorry :((((

yoongi’s priorities are really not that complicated. the following goes like this:

1. jimin 2. relationship with said boy 3. career 4. rent and bills, daily necessities 5. the future - aka a real family and kids (it’s really not that important right now)

really, it’s not that complicated.

but eight years into a good, serious, and fully-committed relationship, yoongi knew that jimin is going to want Things.

the following Things go like this:

jimin, from the early years of their relationship, is someone who is into pure domesticity. when all of the bad things are gone, jimin made a home for the both of them, and yoongi was thankful for all of it. their apartment was small and shitty, but yoongi looked forward to coming home every night because their small and shitty apartment was the best place there was.

when they’ve established themselves as fully-functioning-bill-paying-adults with steady jobs, jimin proposed they move into a better neighborhood, a better place. it was still a studio apartment, but it’s bigger and cleaner and now they can actually afford to buy small furniture for all their shit.

when the both of them are getting promotions because of their hard work, jimin proposed they move into another better neighborhood, an even better apartment. now it’s a loft-type apartment with actual rooms and an actual kitchen with fully-functioning heating systems and a bathtub.

for a long time after their first major achievement in finding a good apartment they called home, jimin is very satisfied with their lives until he isn’t.

it was a painful process of Realizing Things for yoongi, but it wasn’t all that bad. he just knows he’s not ready for anything like That yet.

things like this:

“aw, look at those kids.” jimin once said when they were out in the mall. a small playground was in the middle with slides and everything, and three kids were playing in it when they passed by. two boys were helping a smaller girl climb up the slide. “they’re so cute.” jimin sighs, sneakily taking a picture of them. that night in bed, jimin was staring at the picture, wanting to post it on instagram but yoongi says that’s kind of creepy so he doesn’t. that was clue #1.

a trip to the hospital for their checkup every six months (yes, they’re so fucking married) finds jimin talking to a bunch of mothers in the waiting room. they have kids in tow, and jimin was actually holding one, coddling the baby girl in his arms as he talks with about three ladies with kids. yoongi didn’t know what they’re talking about as he is on the other side of the room engrossed in a magazine, but jimin was laughing with them one second and conversing with them seriously the next. he brought out his phone to type something at one point (they were notes). later in the car as they head home, jimin goes off about what vegetables are good to make baby food with, milk formulas, and good baby brands to buy teething toys. teething toys. that was clue #2.

jimin’s cousin was in seoul for a business conference, and she asked if he could baby sit her son for a day since no one back in busan was available to tend to the child. his name is sian, he’s 2 years old, and he’s the cutest thing to ever exist and jimin, of course, said yes. jimin was on absolute dad mode that day, and yoongi had to stare a lot. jimin didn’t ask much of him since sian wasn’t a fussy baby, but yoongi stared. he watched how jimin took care of the baby, how he played with him, and put him to sleep. jimin seems happy taking care of his nephew, totally disregarding yoongi the whole day. when his cousin came over to pick up sian, jimin was emotional. when they left, he sulked in the couch. that was clue #3.

“oh my god, look at how tiny!” and jimin was holding up a pair of baby shoes in front of yoongi that time they went to the department store. that was clue #4.

it stressed yoongi out for a long while, jimin’s hints doing nothing to placate his anxiety. yoongi knows that 8 years into their practically domestic relationship despite not being married (because...they couldn’t), jimin would want to have kids.

yoongi thought it would be appropriate to bring it up on the night of their 9th year anniversary date. he had several months to think about it, several months to do his research on the process of adoption and orphanages in and out of seoul. it’s final, he knows it’ll make jimin happy, and if it makes jimin happy then he shouldn’t worry about himself. jimin was, after all, his top priority.

it’s probably not a good thing to bring it up when jimin has a mouthful of medium rare steak. he’s coughing the next second, and yoongi was handing him his glass of water. the other customers in the restaurant were eyeing them, but yoongi paid no heed. saying ‘babe, how about we adopt a kid’ is probably a bold way to say it. too bold, in retrospect, but when was yoongi never bold? he’s always straight to the point without half-assing things, so it’s not like -- anyway.

“what did you say?” jimin asks when the steak is safely chewed. “a-adoption?”

“i’m hurt that you think i’m that slow, babe.” yoongi chuckles, cutting his damn steak like he just didn’t blow jimin’s mind with what he pulled. “but yeah, adoption. you wanted to, right?” he clears his throat when jimin stares on. “you...kept giving hints and--”

“oh my god.” jimin buries his face in his hands, ducking until he’s nearly under the table.

“--i--what? oh my god what? what’s going on?” yoongi stands up, leaning over the table to check on jimin. when he reemerges from his initial shock, jimin is crying. yoongi didn’t expect this kind of reaction. he was expecting more of a happy kind of reaction, with jumping and hugging and kissing to be more specific. he didn’t expect jimin to cry in a damn restaurant with their steak half finished. “jimin, hey--”

“i’m so happy,” he says through his tears. they fall down endlessly, and wiping them away was kind of useless but jimin was batting at his face left and right. “oh my god i’m sorry, i just--”

“hey, hey, calm down.” yoongi rounds the table, taking out his handkerchief and wiping gently at jimin’s face. they’re silent for a couple of minutes as jimin’s sobs die down. their steak is long forgotten, but yoongi honestly doesn’t care.

“thank you. this is the best present you can give me, yoongi. thank you. ah shit why am i like this?” jimin stands up, hugging yoongi tightly right there in the middle of a fancy fine-dining restaurant yoongi somewhat found. it’s looking like yoongi proposed or something, because the people from the nearby tables are congratulating them, pictures are being taken. yoongi should be alarmed, but he long gave up on giving a fuck about strangers who think that their relationship is a bad thing.

“ah, really?” yoongi had the gall to ask. cocky shit. “but this isn’t the only present you’re getting.

jimin breaks the hug abruptly, squinting his eyes for emphasis. “min yoongi--”

“if you want to go back home right now and not finish this bloody steak, i can give you your present. and no, it’s not what you think.” damn, it really wasn’t sex, although that can be arranged.

“oh...oh my god, yoongi--”

it wasn’t a present for jimin, per se, because he couldn’t possibly fit his feet into shoes smaller than his palm. and his palm is damn small.

everything that crossed jimin’s mind is too overwhelming to take in but he did anyway -- he thought about the years he was estranged from his family because he chose yoongi, he thought about their approval because yoongi proved himself that he’s nothing but a good lover, he thought about how yoongi was the best thing to ever happen to him, he thought about the best nine years of his life, he thought about the following years to come. with yoongi. with their future...child.

the same pair of baby shoes that jimin found at the department store nearly a year ago was cradled in his hands. he was staring at them with glassy eyes and a warm heart, and yoongi thought this is probably the best thing he did for jimin -- not the other things he did before, not all the fucking he gave, not the food he put on the table, not all the material gifts, not the stunts he pulled during their previous anniversaries -- but this, the gift of family. their own family.

and that’s how yoongi remembered, all those years ago, jimin mentioned that someday, he wants a family of their own. he wasn’t sure when, but it’s a distant memory of when they used to stay up all night talking and talking, declaring their love for one another. feeling.

“i’m never gonna top this gift.” yoongi says, pulling jimin out of his baby-shoes trance. “am i right or am i right.”

“you are very right.” jimin chuckles, putting the shoes back in the box. he winds his arms around yoongi’s neck, breathing his scent of home and comfort. “thank you, really. i’m the happiest man there is.”

“you are very wrong.” yoongi objects, pulling jimin down the couch with him. “because it’s me.”

#syubminnet #just yoonmin things #yoonmin #yoongi #suga #jimin #bts #bangtan #bangtan boys #IM SORRY :((((

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theoriginalivyannazimuth · 5 years

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Because Reddit is having issues this is my submission to Malicious Compliance. Mostly so I can copy paste it later

Hello reddit, today I will tell you a tale of romance, betrayal, and smipublic streeking.

(WARNING THERE IS A LOT OF BACKSTORY FOR THIS SO ITS A LONG POST)

I don't go here much as I usually watch RSLASH and /Start and tend to prefer to lurk rather than post (unless its to promote my youtube) but I thought you may like to hear this, so here I go.

I don't usually put my real name online but some people may know me as LadyAzimuth (hi guys!)

I am 23 and my mother and I have always had a rocky relationship; by which I mean that she was mentally abusive to me and physically to my older sister back in the day. Now not to be rude but my mother has always had some mental problems which is why I ignored a good amount of the BS she did.

When I was young and spending the weekend at my father's i spilled some fries witch ketchup however and immediately began sobbing and apologizing for making a mess and going into full panic attack mode. My father calmed me down and asked me some questions which made me come to the realization that I was being pretty heavily abused by my mother.

Couple that with the many MANY years of physical abuse (I was bi in the late 90s and early 2000s and it wasnt legal to marry where I am until 05 so I got my ass kicked alot) and that made the perfect cocktail of dependence and silence.

My mother would constantly tell me I was being dramatic when I was heavily suicidal, dumb when it turns out i am dyslexic, and a cry baby when I would have anxiety attacks. Of course that all stopped when she got diagnosed for almost everything I have.

This may seem like useless information but I need you to understand why I act the way I am in this situation.

Now I have always been obedient. When her mother died i was in my teens and ended up having to raise my 2 younger siblings while my mom and stepfather were in a different city (will be referred to as L henceforth for privacy )

I ended up doing worse in school (I was already having issues because COULDN'T READ) and having to give up doing karate which was the closest thing to therapy I had. I had gotten a few awards for rising through the ranks quicker than others and my teacher thought I could have been a teacher in a few years time if I had continued the way that I was.

Now note, I never asked for a thank you. I believe that you should do your best to help other when they need it and it is ridiculous to demand thanks for it, but I do expect the base level of respect.

My mother only respects herself and her reputation.

I was working at a famous Canadian coffee shop (the one from the memes, you all know what one) for 2 years and I and everyone else was abused for years at it. I stayed longer than 70% of the people working there. This place was the worst. AC didn't work in the summer and it got to about 45 -50 degrees in there, of course we weren't allowed water breaks.

This place also did not want anyone to ever log their injuries. My friend logged a slip that resulted in her being in a hip brace and they cut her hours from full time to 1 4 hour shift a week for it. It was because of this and my being used to being abused that I didn't log a injury I got while trying to open a stuck fridge door.

I have bad knees so I ended up having them lock up while I tried to yank this door open underneath the deli counter causing my kneecap to pop off and my leg to collapse causing a v shape going outwards with the knee. I can't explain it well, but suffice to say, knees do NOT work that way. This is an injury that causes me pain almost every day of my life now, and because I was bullied into not recording it and it was almost 2 years ago now with everyone who was there having quit, there's nothing legally I can do.

I ended up leaving that place when an older lady who had been written up 7 times and not fired dispute almost attacking customers numerous times, screamed at a customer I was helping causing me to have a panic attack. I went to the back and was having a breakdown when she stormed in, threw the clipboard that holds the schedule at my head and punched a bookshelf beside me. I knew nothing would be done, so I left.

It was freeing for all of 5 minutes. Like a weight off my shoulders. Like when you're in a car crash and when you open your eyes, it was just a fender bender.

And then my mother demanded rent.

I had already paid my rent for the month (it was only about the 5th of April) and she was demanding next months rent "just to be sure"

Of course the next month comes around and she demands more rent, even though I paid in advance and went into debt to do it.

This was the beginning of the end.

My stepfather told her she was being ridiculous and to drop it so I could find work. And she did, for a bit. Now I currently live in K. K is a largish city that's only an hour away from Toronto on the 401 and even with the minimum wage being 14 an hour in Ontario, you still can not afford a 1 bedroom apartment in the ghetto here off 1 persons wages.

On top of that there aren't enough jobs to go around. Every single interview I've gone to has had no less than 5 other people to interview aside from me and that's on the low end.

So I've been jobless since April.

Fast forward a few months and my mother and stepfather break up. She and him had been together for 19 years and she has been cheating on him for 7 moths with her vocal instructor who is also a mutual friend of theirs.

They decide that they want to co-parent as to not disrupt the children's lives. Which would be acceptable if that was the case and not just a cover story so the kids don't worry.

The truth is, my mother sold her share of her company because she (like a whiny child) couldn't get along with her.

I mean admittedly she is a plastic prep who never grew out of it but I digress...

So she sold her part of the company and is taking payments of about 1000 a week for 2 years I think?

Rather than putting this towards the rent, shes been spending money like it's going out of style.

Since then she has bought a grand fucking piano which she's still making payments on, a whole ass horse and is paying for monthly board for her. She eats out nearly every single day and drives across cities numerous times a day in her giant gas guzzling ford truck.

To top it off, she attempted to ride said horse before properly rehabilitating it (it had been neglected and underfed so she was antsy and none of the saddles fit correctly) so it threw her.

Kali, I love you, you beautiful mare you, but you sent my mother to destination fucked, and I don't appreciate it.

She landed on her ankle, shattered it, nearly twisted it off completely and broke the leg bone clean in half. She nearly lost the leg due to infection and 15 months later we are still looking at about 10 more months of recovery if all go's well.

Now just because we live in Canada, doesn't mean this is a cheap endeavor. In fact my step father had to double his workload in the business he owned to make up for it, and the household is still having some issues (I'm not saying we are broke, because the lights are on and everyone is comfortable but we have to live by the dollar at this point.)

So money has been coming up a lot recently and has been another way to demean me and manipulate me and make me feel like trash.

The money is the reason why she want's to co-parent, because otherwise she most likely would not be able to support herself with how shes hemorrhaging money and cant work. (Physically she can, she just would prefer not to and to go out every day and night to party and bang her boyfriend. Did I mention she still hasn't legally divorced my father and still has his last name?

So a week to the day that they made the separation announcement, she gets my stepfather to tell me for her that I have to leave.

Because she wan'ts somewhere to sleep that isn't the couch.

And to "help me out" I could sleep on the couch until I find a place and maybe my family from L can help.

My family who most live off of welfare and minimum wage jobs in the shit end of town.

She didn't tell me when I was to leave, despite me asking her, I assume it was because I can be pretty scary when I am angry and screaming, I'll admit. I learned from my stepfather that I had to be out within the week.

I have to leave, with less than no money because my mother cheated on my stepfather.

Some people wounder what they are worth, money wise. I found out I am worth 500 CAD and some middle aged balding white man dick. How lovely.

So of course I have a total melt down. My friend took me in for a few days because I was on the edge of suicide and still am and couldn't be in the house anymore.

So I've contacted my family in L and am making arrangements to leave and its been a week to the day. Things are slow going as I find someone who can host me on their couch until I get on my feet so I'm on borrowed time.

I got frustrated as since then my mother hasn't said a word to me and has pretended I don't exist so I asked her what the hell she expected from me and how she could act like this.

I got this response. "Just take your shit and go"

OK.

I have a large room, most of the rooms in this house are large so its quite a bit to pack but I've got it more or less.

(Pic here The Packed Room )

In said room I have a lovely wooden bedroom set given to me from my grandmother before she died, as it was in the bedroom I always stayed in when I was at her house. There's a bedside table, bed with a nice head board and a large vanity with a huge mirror.

I never had anything as nice as that before grandmother so I made sure years ago with my stepfather that when I move, its going with me.

On top of that, i have a large old desk that used to be in the office before my stepfather upgraded, a TV which was gifted to me, 8 bookshelves that I saved from being tossed years ago, lovely purple blackout curtains with black flowers on them and a matching lamp and a leather futon couch which is actually quite classy and a PS4,3 and 2. (she occasionally games so I know she's been eyeing those)

I know my mom. I know she wants everything inside of here and will fight tooth and nail for it. But not only is everything in here mine and the accumulation of years, I have my stepfathers permission to take everything, because it is mine.

Take my shit and go? Ok. I will. My friend's grandfather is offering to store my stuff in his empty rooms because he is the kindest old veteran you'll ever meet. I'm taking EVERYTHING.

NOTHING will be left behind.

I hope she enjoys sleeping on the floor because I know for fact we don't have a spare bed.

And as I'm just taking my shit and going, Ill make sure to not tell her about how the very large window super heats the room in the summer at 3 in the afternoon and is almost as cold as the outside is in winter because it was never properly installed. I'll also neglect to tell her where the window leaks when it rains to put down towels so mold dosn't start growing. I'll neglect to tell her about how the wifi doesn't reach up here most of the time so she will have to wonder if her tech is broken.

Unrelated but she REALLY cares about what other people think and that's why I had the thick curtains.

The week is up in a few minutes so I took down MY curtains. Because I'm just taking my stuff and going right?

So I hope out neighbors don't see my chubby while butt undressing to sleep. I used to sleep naked.

I think I'll do that tonight.

TL;DR:

Mom gave the sacred succ to a person she shouldn't have, kicked me out with no warning, so now her one legged ass will be sleeping on the floor of the fancy room she traded me for and will have to answer questions to the whole cul du sac of middle aged upper middle class stuck up moms that she runs the community facebook page for about why her daughter was giving the neighborhood a strip show.

Also she may freeze / sweat to death before she figures out the window is fucked.

Will update once I'm gone about her reaction. Thanks for reading and remember:

Some times you just gatta do what you're told lol.

#Malicious Compliance

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michaelpatrickhicks · 6 years

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Interview: Hunter Shea, author of Jurassic Florida

Hunter Shea has been a favorite of mine for a few years now, earning my attention rather quickly with his weird western novel Hell Hole [review]. The fact that Hunter is one of the most reviewed authors on this site speaks both to my love for the man's work and also just how damn prolific he is. I haven't read all of Hunter's books just yet, but it's pretty damn close. Over the last few years, Mr. Shea has become inextricably entwined with creature features, oftentimes of the cryptozoological nature, and his particular brand of horror is all about fun. While the monsters are certainly important, the human element is equally well-crafted and vital to the success of Hunter's works.

This summer and fall, Kensington Books is releasing Hunter's One Size Eats All trilogy. Like last year's Mail Order Massacres, each title will be a stand-alone novella tied to one another by a common theme. First up is Jurassic Florida, which released this past Tuesday (you can read my review here). To mark this new release, Hunter was kind enough to join the High Fever Books blog for a few questions. Welcome to the blog, Hunter!

Favorite beer and favorite scream queen or Final Girl?

Oh man, favorite beer? It’s like asking me to pick my favorite child. For many, many moons, it was Sapporo, but lately I’m digging 914 by Yonkers Brewing. Love their place on the Hudson River, too. As for my favorite Final Girl, if we’re going old school, it’s Julie Adams from Creature From The Black Lagoon for damn sure. In more modern times, I would have to say Sharni Vinson as Erin in You’re Next. That little waif of a woman was a total bad ass.

It looks like your first published book was 2011’s Forest of Shadows, and over the last seven years you’ve built up a hell of a catalog of titles. How long were you writing prior to becoming a published author and tell us a bit about your writing process. What allows you to pump out so many consistently good and entertaining books so quickly?

I got bitten by the writing bug in the mid-90s. I spent years working on short stories, tried my hand at a couple of novellas, then dove into the deep end and wrote a romantic comedy as my first novel. I just wanted to see if I could sustain that passion and momentum for a whole book. Once I proved to myself I could, I wrote another, this one a pretty dark comedy. All of it was prep work to write my true love, horror. I didn’t want to do it until I felt I was ready. Forest of Shadows took years to write because my kids were babies at the time, and years sitting in one editor’s hands (Don D’Auria) before it got accepted. But it was worth the wait. When I’m working on a book, I try to write at least 1,000 words every day, trying to double the output on weekends. That way, I know I can get a book done and edited in 4-5 months. Novellas I attack like a sprinter. They key is to just sit my ass down and write. There are so many distractions out there, but if you want to be a working writer, you have to learn to ignore them. There’s no shortage of ideas, just time to get them all out of my head.

You don’t just write about the paranormal and cryptozoological, but you actively seek it out. In your Monster Men YouTube series, you’ve discussed all things supernatural and have taken the occasional visit to a haunted cemetery or two. Where did this fascination come from, and have you had any encounters with the supernatural? Tell us about your monster hunting!

Growing up, one of my grandmother’s was a psychic. Not the kind that had people pay her money to read their palms or tell their future. My grandfather said she would hold séances and he’d seen their table levitate a couple of times. By the time she was just grandma to me, she looked a lot like Mrs. Butterworth. She was an amazingly sweet lady who never talked about her gift. Cut to my getting married and my wife and I moved into what we now know is a haunted house. We see a boy walking around from time to time. Not like a pale ghost, but an actual boy. You get this very calming feeling when he’s around. It’s hard to describe. I’ve had several other odd experiences, including one the night my father passed, that make it impossible for me not to believe there’s more to death than just THE END. I haven’t done much monster hunting simply because there aren’t many monster sightings in lower New York. LOL But, I have gone on many, many UFO hunts in Orange County, NY.

Jurassic, Florida just came out earlier this week and revolves around the sleepy little town of Polo Springs coming under attack by enormous prehistoric iguanas. What do you have against iguanas? What made them the perfect monstrosity to base a story around in your latest creature feature?

I hate reptiles. I love animals, just not snakes and lizards. My kids have been asking for a pet iguana since they could talk. I tell them they are free to get as many iguanas as they want when they move out. My editor and I wanted to do this big, Bert I. Gordon inspired novella with giant reptiles. Watching Floridians get eaten by them just seemed like a lot of fun (no offense to Floridians – I get joy out of all people being terrorized by prehistoric beasts). Now I can tick killer giant iguanas off my writing bucket list.

Jurassic, Florida is also notable for being the first in a series of novellas for Kensington Books that are united under the One Size Eats All banner. Last summer you wrote the Mail Order Massacres novella series for them. How did these trilogies develop? What’s the creative processes like in bringing these works to life?

I have a great editor there, Gary Goldstein, who, like me, is just a big kid warped by comic books, B movies and bad television. We had so much success with the Mail Order Massacres series that we wanted to tackle a new one, but shift it from comics to nature gone wild. The original series title was Hunter Shea’s Don’t Fuck With Nature, but naturally we were turned down on that one. Gary and I trolled for stories on the Internet for inspiration. Living in NY, we read a news article about how rats were becoming resistant to rodenticide, so in comes Rattus New Yorkus. Another story about swarms of tiny iguanas got us to Jurassic Florida. The Devil’s Fingers came from I think Gary seeing a horrid picture of what they look like. Once I saw it, I ran with it. Those things look like they’re either from outer space or hell.

Over the course of your career so far, we’ve had books about Loch Ness, Orang Pendek, a megalodon, the Montauk Monster, chimera fish, and so, so much more. How do you decide what creature to feature from book to book? When you set out to write, does the creature come first, or do you develop a story around the creature first and plug in a threat? Do you have a list of cryptids you’re working your way through?

It’s crazy how I’ve fallen down this cryptid hole. And I love it. I’m a huge fan of cryptozoology, so yes, I do have a list. I always start with the monster and flesh the story out from there. Even though they’re creature features, getting the humans just right is most important to me. People don’t walk away from Loch Ness Revenge wanting more Nessie. They want more Nat and Austin and Henrik. That makes me happy. Plus, I’m just having a ball writing about all the beasties that have fascinated me since I was a kid.

What’s your personal favorite cryptid (and why)? Is there a creature you haven’t written about yet, but that you’re dying to tackle in the future?

Growing up, I was a huge Nessie lover. I wanted to move to Scotland and just live on the Loch. Back then, I loved any aquatic creature. My fascination went from sharks to whales to Nessie. Now, to me, the most fascinating cryptid and backstory belongs to the Mothman, hands down. Everyone should read John Keel’s book, The Mothman Prophecies. We are talking some wild, weird stuff. It wasn’t just about a winged creature terrorizing people. We’re talking ghosts, UFOs, men in black and so much more. I really have to get my butt to the annual festival this year.

You’re perhaps best known for writing really fun, humorous, off-the-wall works of horror that are high on action and adventure. But you’ve also got a few works that are more serious in tone, like We Are Always Watching. In the fall, Flame Tree Press will be releasing its first wave of horror titles, including your novel Creature, which sounds like it’s one of your more serious works with its heroine, Kate, suffering from an autoimmune disease. What can you tell us about Creature and how your own life inspired this book?

I love character driven stories, and Flame Tree gave me a golden opportunity to explore some dark and scary issues. It was very difficult to write because so much of it is drawn from my own life. My wife has a series of autoimmune diseases that have nearly taken her life more times than we can count. I took all that fear we’ve experienced and laid it out on the page. Sure, it’s set in a cottage in the Maine woods, but it’s not a teen slasher romp. I want readers not just to be scared by the antagonist, but to also understand how tenuous their own health and lives are. Nothing is more frightening than that. People who loved We Are Always Watching I think- I hope - will devour this one.

Creature also sees you working again with famed horror editor, Don D’Auria. You worked with him previously when you both were with the now defunct Samhain Publishing. How was it working with Don again?

I love Don. He was the only editor I sent my very first book to because I only wanted to work with him. And by some magical twist of fate, here we are years later, not just editor and writer, but friends. Don is great because he values the writer’s vision. If he’s chosen to work with you, it’s because he loves your work and trusts your instincts. He’s just there to tighten things up for you. It’s incredible creative freedom. With Don, I can try my hand at just about anything, so long as it hits certain marks and has characters people give a crap about. Without that, you have nothing.

Do you prefer writing the pulpy creature features, or the more serious horror novels like We Are Always Watching? Do you find one style to be more rewarding?

The more serious toned books are much, much harder to write and like all things in life, more fulfilling. It’s just a different experience. I almost feel like when I write the creature features, I’m a kid who can’t believe I get to do this for a living. When I step into a book like Creature, I have to put my big boy pants on and be an adult. Both are extremely satisfying in their own ways.

What comes next for you? Pimp away!

After Jurassic Florida, the next in the series, Rattus New Yorkus will come out in August, followed by the series ender, The Devil’s Fingers in October (just in time for Halloween!!!). Right now, I’m working on a ghost writing project that is a whole new world for me. Once that’s complete, I have a new novella for Severed Press to work on that people who dig The Thing will salivate over. Then it’s on to my next book with Don and Flame Tree. Speaking of that, I have to get the synopsis over to him!

Where can readers find you? Share you links!

It’s all at www.huntershea.com. On Instagram, you can find me @huntershea2017. Feel free to visit me any time! I actually respond to folks when they reach out to me. :)

FLORIDA. IT’S WHERE YOU GO TO DIE. Welcome to Polo Springs, a sleepy little town on Florida’s Gulf Coast. It’s a great place to live—if you don’t mind the hurricanes. Or the flooding. Or the unusual wildlife . . . IGUANAS. THEY’RE EVERYWHERE. Maybe it’s the weather. But the whole town is overrun with the little green bastards this year. They’re causing a lot of damage. They’re eating everything in sight. And they’re just the babies . . . HUMANS. THEY’RE WHAT’S FOR DINNER. The mayor wants to address the iguana problem. But when Hurricane Ramona slams the coast, the town has a bigger problem on their hands. Bigger iguanas. Bigger than a double-wide. Unleashed by the storm, this razor-toothed horde of prehistoric predators rises up from the depths—and descends on the town like retirees at an early bird special. Except humans are on the menu. And it’s all you can eat . . .

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#interview #Hunter Shea #Jurassic Florida #Kensington Books #Flame Tree Press #Severed Press

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