#other issue: no way to get out of the house dressed like that without dad seeing and I Don't Appreciate His Comments On My Clothes

[sirfrogsworth]

Photo Restoration Project - Part 1

A long time ago, Katrina sent me some old photos of her family I could restore. Her parents have been helping me from afar for years and I really wanted to do something nice for them. Unfortunately my dad got much worse and I pretty much forgot about this project for quite some time.

But then I decided to visit Katrina in Orlando and we discussed having dinner with her parents and I remembered these photos. So I thought I would fix them up so I could present them as a gift in person.

The first and most important photo was from her parents wedding.

Old photo prints can fade over time due to UV light exposure. From what I understand, different colors fade at different rates and red/orange tones tend to be the least susceptible to this fading. Thankfully all of the color information is still there, it's just that the darks are not as dark and the lights are not as light. The dynamic range got squeezed like an accordion. However, if you do a levels adjustment on the red, blue, and green channels individually, you can unsqueeze the accordion and balance everything back to the way it was.

But you can't always save everything and there may be other damage that needs fixing. If something becomes pure white, there is no way to restore that detail. Thankfully I was able to use the new generative fill feature to bring back detail in the dress, the flowers, and the tuxedo shirt.

And because I hate front facing flash and how it makes colors look ugly and sterile, I may have also added a marble floor and pillars.

Next up was a photo of Anastasia, Katrina's mom, protesting Henry Kissinger on behalf of her home country of Greece. This suffered from the same color fading issues.

What made this one a little more tricky was an uneven fading. The left side had to be adjusted independently and the top was even more faded. I had to isolate the trees to bring back their color. And the protest signs were difficult to read, so I enhanced those as well.

Next we have this lovely photo of Anastasia tending to some house plants.

This photo was actually in decent shape. It lost a little contrast, had a little bit of fading, and her top retained almost no detail I could recover. Recovering accurate skin tones is probably one of the most important skills I learned when restoring these photos. I wanted to keep that filmic look of the era while avoiding making people look jaundiced or pale. Lightroom's new masking feature that let's you isolate every aspect of the people it detects in a photo. This made fixing skin tones much easier. I could isolate just her face or her lips or her hair or her eyes and make precise individual adjustments. This process could have taken a great deal longer without this feature. But, I brought back proper contrast and color, added a little bit of detail to her top with gen fill, and hopefully got fairly accurate skin tones as well.

Next up, forward facing flash strikes again in a photo of Mike and Anastasia during Christmas.

Film did not do well in low light. If it was indoors and nighttime, you pretty much had no choice but to use flash. But a flash is a very small, bright light source and this causes a very unflattering result on humans. Today we have much more powerful flashes with rotating heads. We can bounce the light into the ceiling or off a wall and increase the size of the light source to get a more flattering result.

In this photo I wasn't able to do much, so I just balanced the skin tones and brought out some hidden detail and called it a day. It's still a lovely memory and thankfully film has such character that it negates a lot of the unflattering aspects of direct flash.

Next up is some cuteness...

A big priority when editing photos is to make sure the subjects are the star of the photo. And in this one their faces were a bit obscured in shadow. There was also a lot of haze in the background hiding the beautiful vista. Not to mention when I cleared that haze, there was this super faint hint of something in the sky. I can't tell if it was a rainbow, but I decided to believe it was a rainbow. The only thing that I am still struggling with, and this seems to be common with a lot of old photos, is green. Getting a good, saturated, natural green to look right has been very difficult. Everything I try ends up looking toxic or fake. The only thing that ends up looking right with the rest of the photo is more of a yellow-y brown. It's something I'll have to work on as I learn, but as long as the overall photo looks balanced and natural, I'm okay with not perfectly nailing the greens.

Up next we have a lovely scene on a Greek dock...

As far as editing goes, this was pretty basic. I just undid the fading, adjusted the skin tones, replaced the blown-out sky, and made the colors pop. But I think this is actually one of my favorite before and after shots. I just love how such a simple fix brought this scene to life.

A new car is a big deal and Anastasia looks so proud here...

This image has another common issue in addition to the typical fading of colors. It has a yellowish orange color cast. This could have been an issue with the film used or the development process or a chemical reaction on the print. A color cast is a lot like looking through colored glasses. It's like a translucent color material was put on top of the image. This can be a little trickier to deal with, but if you know your color theory, you might already know the solution. Blue is the opposite of yellow/orange on the color wheel, so if you introduce blue to the image it should balance out. Also, add a sky if it was missing.

Next up we have a landscaping project...

This one wasn't too tricky, but there was one interesting issue I had to address. All light has a color temperature. Daylight has a temperature of around 5500K. But the inside of the garage was being lit by reflected light and so that light took on the color temperature of the things it was bouncing off of. So I had to mask out the people and the car and address the color temperature inside the garage to make everything look balanced. Also, the green fought me hard on this one. And with the theme of this picture being plants, I felt I really needed to find a tone that worked. I think I finally got there, but I spent way too much time in the color picker doing trial and error of green tones. Also, new sky.

With this next one I actually did a pretty thorough explanation of how I edited it. But this was probably my favorite puzzle to solve from this collection of photos.

I'll do the abridged explanation...

The physical photograph was printed on a paper with a very heavy texture. And when it was scanned, the light from the scanner bounced off that texture and created a pattern of unwanted highlights.

I was worried this was impossible to fix and I almost gave up on this photo. But after one final Google search I discovered something called "Fast Fourier Transform." It's a mathematical formula that can be used to detect patterns. And the image editing software Affinity Photo, just so happens to have a filter called FFT denoise that helps you remove unwanted patterns from scanned photos.

And thanks to that filter, I was able to remove a substantial amount of that pattern...

Then I did my standard clean up techniques...

Oh, and I decided to try learning how to colorize.

Photoshop has a new set of experimental filters and a colorization tool is one of them. It is not great yet, but it is a great starting place. Instead of having to hand paint every single thing in the photo, Photoshop gave me a base to work with and I could take it from there with traditional techniques.

That's all I have the energy for today, but there are a bunch of cool restorations to talk about. Hopefully you all find this interesting. It was such a great gift to give to Katrina's parents. And spending that time with them and making them happy felt like I was with my own parents again. So we all got a gift in that wonderful evening.

Part 2 coming as soon as I have the energy!

#photography #photo restoration

[thequeenofuselessinformation]

So basically the entire character list of The ballad of songbirds and snakes is the exes from hell

1. Coriolanus Snow

-Mansplain Manipulate Manwhore

-Great hair and fashion sense

-Love bombs you

-Old money

-His (grand)mom hates you because her son can do no wrong so clearly you're the problem

-His favourite hobby is emotional and mental abuse

-Snitches on you when cheating at family board game night (he's deflecting that he's also cheating)

-Emotionally stagnant (narcissist with mommy and daddy issues)

2. Sejanus Plinth

-Loves you to bits, so does his mom (your waistline will never truly recover)

-Indecisive about where to grab dinner always

-New money and it shows in his insecurity

-Supportive asf

-Breaks up with you because he can't be with a non pacifist/vegan

-Daddy issues

-Condemns Shein hauls

-Identity crisis every other week, you'll have to talk him out of a buzz cut, jumping off the ledge or giving all his money to scammers (if you collect all the stamps you'll get a financial compensation from his dad on the wedding day)

3. Lucy Gray Baird

-Her Ex is a dick, will stalk and harass you

-Her family is a bunch of hippies, will make you eat with your hands, on the floor, while singing Kumbaya

-Sings you to sleep, braids your hair

-Almost poisoned you thrice cause she doesn't understand you shouldn't mix cleaning products together

-Old soul

-Thrifts, recycles

-Puts salt in your coffee after arguments

-Ghosts you after your make or break argument

4. Casca Highbottom

-Never asks about your day, his is always worse

-Drug addict in denial

-Weird beef with his old classmate's son (he never lets anything go)

-Dislikes people, which would be fine if you weren't included

-Always on some sardonic shit, probably a business major with a psych minor

-His pills take all the space in the shared bathroom, your makeup will be shoved in the far lowest drawer next to the TP

-His ancient ass coworkers hit on you at symposiums, he's too high off bathroom cocaine to stop them (or gets off, either way you're tired and want home)

5. Dr Gaul

-Devil Incarnate

-You somehow rizzed her up at a function and she's been showing up at your house ever since (you don't how but she has both the address and a key)

-Petting zoo type of owner

-She always smells like chemicals and latex

-Asks you unhinged "Would you rather" questions and refuses to drop it (makes your Would you love me if i were a worm ex cute by a long shot)

-Will perform experiments on you without your knowledge or consent

-Insists her pet snake shares your bed

-Freak in the streets and the sheets (the restraining order won't even go through cause she's in cahoots with half the Government)

-Definitely wanted for war crimes somewhere, the G in Geneva convention stands for Gaul

6. Lucky Flickerman

-A clown.

-His hair and skincare products take over the entire bathroom/vanity

-He can't dress to save his life, but he sure thinks he can

-Golden retriever boyfriend energy

-Steals your concealer, refuses to admit it

-Would you like to see a magic trick? What do you mean this is a serious fight, there's a quarter up your nose

-Impulsive buyer, has 13 snow globes of panem because they were on sale and looked shiny

-Even his pet thinks he's a dumbass

-Cries during movies

7. Tigris

-Yes she do the cooking, yes she do the cleaning

-Insecure about her appearance (critical, will cost you)

-Her family is a bunch of snobs

-Anything she touches turns into gold

-Her cousin can do no wrong, you have to accommodate everything for him or she'll die (and he never even visits, "just in case")

-Her grandmother is a package deal, I hope you like boomer propaganda and info commercials early on Sunday morning

-Empathetic asf

-Puts everyone's needs above hers (and unfortunately yours)

#I'll probably do more characters #the hunger games ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #tbosas #tbosas memes #tbosas fanfiction #thg #thg memes #thg fanfiction #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow imagine #sejanus plinth #sejanus x reader #sejanus plinth x reader #sejanus plinth imagine #lucy gray baird #lucy gray x reader #lucy gray baird x reader #lucy gray baird imagine #casca highbottom #casca highbottom x reader #tigris snow #tigris snow x reader #tigris snow imagine #dr gaul #lucky flickerman #lucky flickerman x reader #incorrect quotes tbosas

[xfgpng]

𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢’𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞 —

— : [ nsfw ] fwb, mutual pining, pet names, unprotected sex, implied infidelity, eren is whipped, fingering

— wc : 1.6k

a/n : none of my mutuals will believe me now if i say i still don’t like eren 🧍🏻‍♀️

your friends frown anytime they see his black srt parked outside your house. he has tinted windows but they don’t need to see inside to know who he is. that car has been parking outside your house for at least 2 weeks now and judging from the way your neighbours stare over the fence, they know exactly who or what he is.

while you both came from good homes, eren had a lot of issues with his parents and he found himself moving out at 18 with no actual plans for his future. he had wanted to attend college like this older brother did but when the older of the yeager siblings moved out, eren was left alone and he was over his parents, specifically his father, trying to run his life.

they threatened to cut him off but he had enough money saved up and eventually, got into business with his best friend, jean, from high school. you and jean were in the same major and that’s how you met eren at one of their house parties.

you were his type. the shy and reserved kind, or at least that’s what he thought until he had you bouncing on his cock that same night, long acrylic nails digging into his shoulders so hard it left indents for a few days that stung whenever he showered. he still shivered thinking about how you often liked to scratch him up.

he was a bit of a pervert but he kept the ring and middle finger nails that had snapped off in his wallet. the baby blue nails made him think of you more than he’d like to admit.

you weren’t like the other rich kids he’d fuck around with. you didn’t care what he did or the way he dressed. you loved his long hair, it was nice to grip and pull whenever he was eating you out and the whole “i’m too cool for you” vibe he had going was a turn on.

“your parents aren’t home again?” he asks, watching you move around the house with ease. you’re wearing nothing but a loose sweater and panties, the same panties eren had bought for you when he ripped your pair the night you met.

“hm” you hum, getting a can of beer for him and a glass of wine for yourself. he was so carefree around you and he hated to admit that he was falling for you fast.

“i saw your old man the other day” he grins, “you know he buys weed from jean?”

that causes you to laugh. you loved your parents but your mom could be a pain in the ass sometimes so it was no surprise that your dad needed some form of a stress reliever. you were glad he wasn’t chelating.

“you break up with your boyfriend yet?” he asks, leaning against the kitchen counter as he looks down at your bare legs. he enjoyed having them wrapped around his waist but he could admire you from afar too. he couldn’t get enough of you even if the man tried.

“why, you want me to be all yours?” you tease, half expecting him to laugh it off or roll his eyes like he does whenever you two get a little too serious. you liked him enough that you could settle for whatever this was.

the bonus was free weed so you weren’t necessarily one to complain. at least he made you laugh.

“maybe” he grins, raising a brow at your shocked face. you weren’t the only one who could tease.

“we broke up last week” you shrug, “i couldn’t cum without faking it”

“what, can’t cum unless i’m the one fucking you?” eren chuckles. he wasn’t about to admit that he could only get off if he was thinking about you and if he happened to be fucking another girl, he’d have her on all fours so he wouldn’t have to look at her face. pussy these days seemed mediocre when he thought about it. he was content with whatever you had going on, even if he denied it whenever jean asked.

“you like when i stroke your ego” you scoff, taking a sip of your wine. you didn’t need him to know the effects he had on you or your body.

“i like when you’re stroking something else” he smirks, moving around the kitchen island to stand right behind you. you press your ass into his crotch and shake your hips teasingly.

“i especially like when you let me fuck you raw and cum inside you” he adds, trailing his fingers up your bare thigh. he kisses the side of your neck and inhales a little. you always smelled so fucking good that he thought about buying your perfume and keeping it stashed in his bedroom. “you ever let him finish inside you ma?”

“no” you gasp, biting your lip as his fingers dance across the hem of your sweater, “he’s never even fucked me raw”

“wow” he grins, “so you really let me hit it without a condom on the first night too?”

“yeah” you moan for him as he slips his middle finger into your pussy. you’re already wet and he’s only teasing you. it was obvious he had an effect on you and by the bulge in his grey sweatpants, you definitely had the same effect on him.

“want me to fuck you now hm?” eren whispers, right into your ear which causes goosebumps to rise all over your body, “want my cum spilling out and making a mess all over your kitchen floor?”

you can’t even think straight when he adds his index finger beside the other. he’s so skilled with his fingers and usually you’d enjoy some four play, you enjoyed sucking his cock as you played with his balls but you had all night.

maybe forever if he kept things up like this. you don’t think you could ever be with anyone else ever again and he knew that too.

“dirty little girl” he grins, biting your earlobe as his free hand pulls his leaking cock out. he strokes himself once, twice before he can’t wait anymore. he doesn’t bother pulling your panties down, choosing to rip it off you, the poor flimsy material tearing easily.

“eren” you pout, “i liked those” they were from him after all but you wouldn’t say that.

“i know baby, ‘m sorry” he groans as he slips inside you, not sorry at all. “i’ll get you new ones okay?”

you nod, gripping the counter as he sets a brutal pace immediately. you didn’t even care that your windows were wide open or the fact that your curtains weren’t closed and your nosy neighbours would definitely see if they looked which they always did whenever he came over.

“fuck baby, you’re always so wet for me” he moans, whimpers a little and that’s enough to have you clenching around his fat cock. you loved that he was so vocal, not shy to let you know just how good you made him feel. he really was the best at fucking you.

the best you’ve ever had.

he lifts your leg up, pushing you forward so your chest is squished against the counter and fucks into you harder and faster. your moans echo throughout the kitchen and your eyes cross. he fucks you like it’s been years when it’s been 2 days.

2 long days. it took everything in him not to show up and fuck you in his car. he hated when he got busy, it was less time between your thighs and he would rather spend his free time with you.

he moans at that, startling the both of you. he hasn’t realised just how much he was starting to like you. he wanted to be around you even without the intense fucking.

he liked you. a lot

“do you remember that pretty dress you wore that night?” he asks, slowing down as he gripped your waist.

“huh?” your frown, brows furrowing as you try to catch your breath. you were so close to reaching your high, your body was buzzing with the need to release but he was always persistent. “‘ren” you whine. you can’t even think properly, why was he asking that right now?

“come on ma, i’ll give you what you need in a moment, answer me” he chuckles, rubbing soft circles into your waist to help you calm down.

“i do” you say after a moment, “the green one”

how could you forget it? jean had joked about how it matched eren’s eyes perfectly and later that night, eren had you biting the hem of the dress as he bounced you on his dick, eyes trained on where his cock was disappearing in and out of you.

“what about it?” you turn to look over your shoulder at him. it still surprised you just how good looking he was. it should be a crime to be that hot.

“can you put it on for me again?” he smirks

“right now?” you pout

“no baby, later” he smiles, “i want to take you out”

you can’t help the smile so you turn away from him, hiding your face in your arm that’s perched on the counter.

“is that a yes?” he teases, touching the place where you’re stretched out on his cock. you moan as your legs shake, trying to fuck yourself. he licks his lips and you moan for him, nodding your head.

“good girl” he slaps your ass hard and then grips it tightly, holding onto your waist as he fucks you harder. he won’t stop until you’re creaming his cock and begging him to let you take a break.

#[ 🪼 ] xfg writes #eren x you #eren x y/n #eren x reader #eren smut #eren yaeger x you #eren yaeger smut #eren yaeger x reader #plug eren #reader can be seen as a person of colour for ALL my works #eren jeager #eren jeager smut #eren jeager x reader #eren jeager x you #eren jeager x y/n #eren yeager #eren yeager smut #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager x y/n #eren yeager x you

[agendabymooner]

the leclerc daycare || cl16 fic

charles leclerc x ofc (hearth sister!ofc)

EXTENTION TO OF LONG LINES AND NAMES

Summary: Charles Leclerc was a father first and a driver second. So maybe being left alone with Hervé, Jules and PJ for the night wouldn't be much of an issue. OR Aimee Leclerc travelled with her sisters and Charles got a firsthand experience of watching his kids by himself (alongside his kids’ uncles Esteban and Pierre).

Content warning: dad!Charles centric, fatherhood, mentions of pregnancy, dad!F1 Drivers x OFCs appearance (Hearth sisters!OFCs), Uncle Estie and Uncle Pierre, doubts of being a good parent, shitty French translations by Apple, wtf is beta reading

Note: Dad Charles, Dad Charles, Dad Charles content enjoy xx

masterlist

Aimee and her sisters were known for being extroverts with introverted tendencies. They communicated with anyone who’d approach them and more often than not, would keep in contact with them in case of any business. 

They didn’t like hanging out with them, as much though. Not as much as they preferred being around their sisters. Aimee, especially, didn’t enjoy being around new people— not as often as any other person would. She would much rather be around her sisters or her husband and his mates. Having three kids, with another two on the way, did something about her interest in socializing with other people. It was fairly limited before until she began attending playdates or programs for toddlers that allowed her children to make friends with others — interacting with parents was common. 

Regardless, going out for two days was different — especially when her sister, Sylvie, was wanting to celebrate her engagement before she gets married in a month. Much like the other two sisters, they preferred a day out without any friends. Just the four of them, chatting each other’s ears off. Aimee Leclerc was alright with that.

“Je ne veux pas que maman parte!” I don’t want Mummy to leave. 

The littles, though, weren’t alright with that. Jules cried his eyes out the moment he saw Aimee dressed in some satin dress. She had a weekender bag next to her vanity, the boy picking up on the fact that his mother was leaving. 

It was Charles’ week off before the next race, and rather than going to Maranello, he deliberately made the choice to stay at home and do his sim practices instead. After all, Aimee had been at home for weeks rather than traveling with McLaren during the races due to her pregnancy. The wonders of having remote work, right? 

“J,” Charles shushed his son softly, playing with the soft curls of his mini’s hair. Jules continued to cry as he wrapped his arms around Charles’ neck. “Maman n'est pas sortie pour s'amuser. Ne pensez-vous pas qu'elle mérite de s'amuser?” Mummy hasn’t gone out to have fun. Don’t you think she deserved to have fun? 

Then another little babbling came along as Hervé clung to Charles’ leg. “Elle peut s'amuser ici. Papa dit à maman qu'elle peut s'amuser ici!” She can have fun here. Daddy, tell Mummy she can have fun here. Hervé cried too, sobbing as they stood in front of the shut bathroom door. 

Aimee put down her mascara and sighed quietly. How the heck was she going to go if her sons were crying like this? The only reason why she’d managed to be roped into nights off before was because Pascale Leclerc had managed to kick her and Charles out of the house before. The boys loved their Mamé and their uncles. 

Pascale wouldn’t see them until this afternoon and their uncles were definitely not going to go until they got back from work. It was only 6:45 in the morning. 

How the hell were Hervé and Jules awake at this time, anyway? They liked to sleep, so how they managed to get the hell out of their bedroom at this time of the day was a mystery.

Aimee then remembered what her sister said. Intuition. Aimee was the same back when her sister was eighteen and heading to university in the morning. Two year old Aimee would wake up just to say good morning then dash off to have breakfast with the other sisters. So maybe her twins had the kind of intuition when someone’s leaving. 

She didn’t think that their reaction would be like this in the morning. 

“Oui, but my littles,” Charles crouched down to speak to both his kids, “do you know how Papa’s been working a lot and Maman has been home to have fun with you?” 

Hervé and Jules sniffled, but nodded nonetheless. Charles continued, “Papa has fun at work, but it’s Papa’s time to have time with you. Maman deserves to see what’s out there that she can have fun with.”

“We can go out to have fun with Maman!” Hervé cried out, protesting against Charles’ proposal. 

“Maman will go somewhere littles can’t go,” Charles told the boys. “How about we have some breakfast and make sure the babies are eating too before Maman goes, hm? Make some breakfast so Maman will be happy and be full of your looove by making her food?” 

“Maman sera-t-elle heureuse si nous lui faisons à manger?” Will Mummy be happy if we make her food? Jules asked, the two of them no longer crying. Thank god for that otherwise PJ, their two year old brother, would see it and somehow make himself comfortable at the tear train. 

Charles grinned at his boys and nodded, “Oui. Maybe we can make her some chicken and waffles— last I heard, the babies want some chicken.” 

Jules wiped his tears away and exclaimed, “Okay! I help, Papa! Herb! Come!” Then ran off the couple’s bedroom, his twin brother hot on his heels as Hervé dashed off. 

Charles watched the boys run out and winced, hoping PJ wouldn’t wake up to the loud footsteps made by the older kids as he slumped against the wall by the bathroom. 

The door swung open next to him, making him look as Aimee stepped out with a sheepish smile. He approached her carefully and wrapped his arms around her, his hands trailing down the protrusion of her stomach as he sighed, “I hope these two wouldn’t be that much trouble to handle.” 

“Hmm,” Aimee hummed happily, taking his hand to kiss the palm of it. “Are you sure you’re going to be alright?” 

Charles scoffed as if Aimee was questioning his superman abilities to stay sane. “I’ve been driving a Ferrari for god knows how long,” he joked, kissing her temple as his other hand continued to caress her stomach. “I’ve gone way past my sanity line. Don’t worry about the three, oui?” 

“I’m not worried about your minis,” Aimee giggled, “I’m more worried about you. You’re most likely to go mad once you realize PJ likes a little bit of mischief with Herb and J.” 

“As I said,” Charles rolled his eyes, peering down at her as he continued, “I’m no longer sane. I think I’ll be able to find composure.” 

The breakfast definitely DID NOT show all of that. Because by the time Charles reached the kitchen, an egg was already cracked open on the floor. Not only that, but Hervé and Jules’ tanned faces (alongside their jammies) were covered in waffle mix after they’ve both dropped the bag of mix on the floor. 

But their breakfast wasn’t that much of a disaster, to say the least. In between Aimee’s cooking and the boys’ morning shower, they somehow managed to find some time to eat breakfast. PJ had already woken up when Charles’ voice turned loud enough at the shock just as he stepped into the kitchen. Trying to get him to eat his fruits wasn’t as difficult. He was angelic of all the Leclercs that both Pascale and Aimee had given birth to. 

“C’mon, mon chou, last one for Daddy,” Charles opened his mouth wide, trying to get PJ to mimic the action. PJ followed his father, his mouth opening as Charles made airplane noises, his hand twirling around while it held a slice of banana stabbed into a silicone fork. It didn’t take long for the food to land on the toddler’s mouth as he kicked his feet in enthusiasm. 

“Tu vois? C'est de la bonne nourriture, n'est-ce pas?” See? It’s good food, don’t you think so? Charles asked his youngest, making the boy nod. “Good boy, PJ.” 

Charles turned to look at his twins, who both stood on their two step stools next to their mother as they watched Aimee wash their dishes. Aimee was apparently teaching them how to do their dishes as she said, “Then when it’s clean, you just put it right here.” 

“What’s this called, Maman?” Hervé pointed at the display next to the sink. 

“It’s a dish rack,” Aimee replied.

“Rack? What does the rack do?” Jules asked, his curious voice making Charles grin to himself. His boys were quite inquisitive about anything. Whenever they’re out, Hervé could point at something and ask. Jules would often follow after Hervé asked. 

And it wasn’t anything worrying. Charles and Aimee loved it when they asked a lot, because they had a lot to answer. It’s always a joy to answer their children’s curiosities. 

“That’s where you leave the plates after cleaning them,” Aimee answered, now drying her hands on the towel. “It’s to make sure they dry. You don’t eat on wet plates do you?” 

“Yuck,” Hervé and Jules pulled a face. “No wet food!” 

“Exactly,” Aimee grinned, looking up to see Charles staring at her and their kids lovingly. She then asked, “Are you enjoying your time staring, love?” 

Charles shook himself out of his thoughts and said, “Yeah. Mr. Sacha is done with his breakfast too.” 

“Oh? He finished it?” Aimee peered down at PJ, “how did you like it, my little bug?” 

Aimee didn’t like that nickname at first. PJ had only earned that nickname after everyone learned that she’d gotten more sick with him than she did with the twins, and Esteban joked that her baby was a literal stomach bug. But after some convincing (with the help of Esteban and Mick, dressing PJ as a grasshopper for his first halloween), Aimee finally caved in. PJ was her little bug.

“Little bug loved it well,” Charles grinned, lifting PJ out of his high chair and grabbed the empty plate. He placed down the dirty dish into the sink as Hervé and Jules’ eyes gleamed in excitement. “Boys, let Papa do it later. Maman’s going soon. Who’s coming to pick you up again?” 

“All three of them, once that Tils’ picked up Stevie and Sylv.”

“Oh,” he replied, “so is anybody dropping off their car to use yours or…” 

“No,” Aimee scoffed. “No one’s touching any of my cars. You are using the SUV, no?”

“That’s kinda assumed already,” Charles replied, “I just thought you’d use your… actually never mind.”

While their family expanded largely over the past few years, their garage did too. Much like her sisters, Aimee had a collection of cats hidden away to avoid being burglarized. Everyone knew about Charles’ custom Pista and the family SUV that they had — an Aston Martin. But they didn’t seem as phased as they were when they found out that Aimee had a vintage Mini Cooper and a coated copper McLaren 765LT hidden somewhere in their family home.

So really… Charles assumed that they’d borrow either one of their hidden gems for the trip as Aimee’s Cooper was often used than Stevie’s military green LaFerrari or Sylvie’s orange Cadillac. 

“The poor Cooper’s been treated like a bus for the past few months,” Aimee snorted. “You know I wouldn’t allow them to drive it either.” 

The ring on the doorbell had woken up something within the twins as they both squealed and bolted to the door, leaving Charles to yell, “Boys, don’t open the door without— damn it!” 

“Charles!” “Sorry! No swearing!”

He then returned to the dining area with Hervé being carried by Aimee’s eldest sister Tilly and Jules with Sylvie. Stevie followed behind as they greeted Aimee, “Morning, Aims! Excited for a good two day vacation?” 

“Oh am I ever,” Aimee rolled her eyes, gesturing at her husband, “he’s a different story.” 

Sylvie raised a brow and spoke amusedly, “You having fun yet, Charles?”

“I am,” Charles waved off Sylvie’s joking tone, “I’ll be fine.” 

“Don’t worry you’ll be fine,” Stevie chuckled, “even Lewis is running a daycare at home.” 

“Aun’ ‘Teve,” PJ toddled his way towards Stevie and tugged on her trousers, “L’land?” 

Stevie peered down at her little nephew — who was the same age as her youngest, Leland, and cooed, “Leland is at home with Uncle Lew and Lotlot, little bug. Maybe you’ll see him sometime today.” 

“Ah speaking of,” Tilly started, looking at Charles now as she said, “I think Lewis and Toto are planning to take the kids out today for the… indoor playground cafe. I’m sure they’ll be happy to have more kids and an extra pair of hands to come along.” 

“Oh nice, more kids,” Charles’ face didn’t even show how nice the thought was. 

“Good luck taking care of eight kids lads,” Sylvie winked, huffing out a laugh after Aimee nudged her a little bit too hard. “I’d offer Max but he isn’t here. I’m sure Arthur and Lorenzo would be more than happy to help!” 

That was a lie. Maybe Lorenzo would help a lot, but Arthur… Now Arthur was a good uncle, but he often leaned more into the chill uncle side than the kind who would somehow watch his words around the kids.

And so when the Leclerc boys saw the matriarch off to Stevie’s Bentayga (while Charles continued to remind his wife’s sisters that she was pregnant — practically warning them not to be stupid about driving), he immediately pulled his phone out to text the only people who’d be more than willing to go less sane with the kids.

Charles: Are you up for some insanity? Aimee’s out for today to tomorrow afternoon.

Esteban: What’s in it for me?

Pierre: He just said insanity.

Pierre: I hope you have enough room in your AM.

Charles: Fuck. I guess I’m taking out the Cadillac.

Charles: Will anyone help me take them out of the garage and help me move the boys’ seats to the other SUV?

Esteban: 👍

Pierre: 👌

Esteban Ocon showed up an hour earlier than Pierre did. When he did, he brought along a small gym bag full of his overnight clothes. Alongside his clothes were boxes of Spider-Man figures. Not everyday Esteban got to share his love for Marvel to anyone, and he could help but jump at the chance to introduce No Way Home to the Leclerc boys.

Now, he was in the kitchen, teaching the Leclerc littles how to operate the oven as they baked some chocolate chip cookie dough that they found in the deep depths of the freezer. Perhaps it was a bad idea to have Esteban come over, because he was prone to ruining their diets with his love for pastries. 

It was quarter to ten when Pierre finally arrived, with his own overnight bag and… a pile of children’s books? Charles wasn’t sure if he was seeing things right, but then the Frenchman pulled up a pop-up book version of Dr. Seuss from the pile as Charles groaned quietly. 

“Ils ont déjà beaucoup de livres, Pierre,” they already have a lot of books, Pierre. Charles told the man when he raised a brow.

“It never hurts for more,” Pierre shrugged, “how did you think PJ learned to speak a lot at this age? He won’t be chatty if it wasn’t for his Oncle P.” 

“You only started to get them books because you don’t know how baby sizes work,” Charles told him with a roll of his eyes, shutting the door behind Pierre as they both walked towards the living room.

Charles raised his brow when Pierre settled his bag down on the couch, leaving Pierre to say, “I’d head up to the guest room but I want to see the boys first,” there was a moment of silence between the two of them and in the background played the boys’ daily phonics songs. “Sick beats, by the way.” 

The pair headed off to the kitchen, where they found Hervé, Jules and PJ chatting away with their Uncle Estie. The last conversation Charles heard was about the track in Canadian GP, with Hervé saying “The turn there— what is that? Pin? Papa says is pin! It’s wooooosh~ woah, it’s so small, Oncle E!” 

“Sharp,” Estie’s signature grin returned to his face as he corrected the boy gently, “the hairpin is sharp, Herb.”

“‘Airpin?” Jules’ head cocked to the side, “I hear my cousin Tia say that!” 

“Because that’s what they use for long hairs,” Esteban replied. 

“What? All talks, no love for Oncle P?” The three toddlers turned towards the direction of the voice as they grinned widely. PJ, thank god for Charles’ reflex, had jumped off the kitchen island and ran towards his namesake. Pierre Gasly nearly tipped over at the suddenly thud on his legs as he grunted, lifting PJ up to his arms as he hugged the boy tight. “Good morning, Little P! How’s my handsome boy doing?” 

“Good, Oncle P!” PJ grinned. “Maman est partie!” Mummy left!

The enthusiasm in his tone broke Charles out of his trance as he laughed. “Sacha, why do you sound happy about Maman leaving?”

“Because she has fun!” Jules reasoned out on behalf of his brother, making PJ nodded eagerly.

And while the two were celebrating the thought, Charles looked at Hervé as he began sobbing quietly. Esteban’s eyes widened, not knowing how to react as the boy began wailing. Tears endlessly flowed out of Hervé’s eyes as he covered them with his forearm. 

“Oh no,” Charles sighed quietly. Esteban quickly recovered from shock and immediately lifted Hervé off the counter, allowing the boy to soak his shirt with his tears. 

Out of the three boys, Hervé was the only one who took the information to heart. The Leclerc kids were loved by both Aimee and Charles — but Hervé, out of the three, loved Aimee more than anything. He often clung to her like a koala on a tree, and when they’re out and about — Hervé would often hold hands with her more than he would with his Papa. It wasn’t a shock that Charles would witness his eldest cry at the absence of his Maman. 

Jules, who was sitting on the counter, stood on the marble surface and reached up to pat his twin on the back carefully. He then said, “t’s okay, Herb!” He wasn’t even sure if Hervé could hear him, but all Jules seemed to care about was comforting his brother.

“Are you sad because Maman’s gone for the day?” Esteban asked, and all he got was a nod in his neck. That, and maybe a wet patch of tears on his neck now. “Okay, okay. Is there anything Papa or your uncles can help you with that can make you feel better.”

“Maman—“ Hervé stuttered, still crying in Estie’s arms.

“Yeah, but Maman’s not here, H,” Estie replied. “What if you show us what can help you feel better? Or do you want Oncle E to help?” 

Hervé’s reddened face looked up at Esteban and nodded. “Yeah? You want me to help? Or everyone?” 

“I know!” Jules jumped, making Charles reach close to his son with a mutter of ‘Careful, J.’ 

Hervé turned to his twin as Jules exclaimed, “Princess and Frog!” 

“T’ana!” PJ squealed aloud. Hervé’s eyes brightened, all thanks to the suggestion that his brothers proposed not to his tears. Hervé nodded before he wiped his tears away and asked Estie to put him down, to which the man obliged as Charles helped Jules hop off the counter and led the Leclerc littles to the family room. 

The adults look at each other. “There will be a lot of that,” Charles smiled meekly. 

“Not a bother,” Esteban waved off with a chuckle.

“I need to put my bags upstairs,” Pierre nudged Charles lightly. “Before craziness even begins.”

The oven goes off at the same time, leaving Esteban to turn away and return to the kitchen as he said, “I’ll leave this to cool off. You need help moving cars, you said?” 

“Yes please,” Charles replied, following his boys to the living room as they navigated through the Disney app. 

He then heard Estie say, “Can I drive her Mc—“

“I can’t let you drive the McLaren, sorry,” Charles interrupted Estie before he could continue on.

Charles: Hey! Are you and Toto still taking the kids out today? 

Lewis: Hey Charles! Yeah we’re taking them out today. If we’re gonna get heart attacks we can at least do it together. You in? 

Charles: Pierre and Estie would come along, if you don’t mind? 

Lewis: Five against eight? We’re still outnumbered. But yea, of course! 

Charles: Haha!

One of the joys of having children was the opportunity to dress them. The same could be said for Charles. They always said that it was hard having to dress boys, and while that remained true, it didn’t discourage the Ferrari driver from dressing his boys up whether they’re going out or heading to bed. 

He could admit that he couldn’t dress for shit, but it didn’t mean that he’d do the same to his kids. 

Neither he and Aimee believed that Jules and Hervé should be dressed the same whenever they’re out because they were twins. In fact, they thought that it would be a bit too confusing for them. At the very beginning of their lives, they were always dressed differently. 

The same could be said for today. Hervé was dressed in a Ralph Lauren denim button up and some denim shorts, his hair tied loosely to a bun to avoid his soft curls getting in the way of his face. 

Jules, however, was dressed in a white tee (with the infamous Burberry pattern sewn as a pocket) and khaki shorts while his hair was merely brushed back. Esteban Ocon was quite proud of his work of art. 

Sacha Leclerc, or PJ, had opted for a soft pink shirt with the Ralph Lauren polo logo on its left chest and some denim shorts with Mickey Mouse embroidered all over the place. He beamed at his Oncle P proudly, immensely proud of his decision to dress like this. Pierre Gasly merely high fived him, proud of his godchild for no reason. He was just proud. 

No one was prouder than Pascale Leclerc, though. Just as her hair salon opened and the boys (and the men) took a ten minute trip there, she gasped at the sight of her grandchildren. 

“Oh mon! Qui sont ces beaux garçons ? S'agit-il de mes petits-enfants?” Oh my! Who are these handsome boys? Are these my grandchildren? Pascale squealed, excusing herself from her receptionist as she knelt down to get on the level of the toddlers. “You three are always soooo handsome! Did Papa dress you?” 

Esteban and Pierre cackled on the side, leaving Charles to look at his mother with an unamused expression. Pascale giggled. It was a running joke in the family that Charles was shit at dressing himself, and when Aimee got married into the family it got even worse — with Arthur starting the chaos with, “Can you believe that, Charles? Two models for sisters-in-law and another who worked for Vogue and you’re still dressed like this?” 

“I sure hope not,” Pierre continued behind Charles, leaving the Monegasque to kick his best friend.

“I did!” Jules grinned proudly. “I dress up myself, Mamé!” 

“I did too!” Hervé raised his hand, catching the attention of his grandmother. PJ babbled along and told her that he too had dressed himself. 

“Wow! Such big boys, you are!” Pascale exclaimed, pulling out her phone to stand up. “Can you smile big for Mamé? Say cheese.”

“Cheeseeee~” the three grinned heavily as Pascale took a photo of the three. Typing for a good second, she finally put her phone away and looked at Charles and his fellow grid mates. 

“I sent it to Aimee’s mothers,” Pascale explained herself as the men nodded.

“What are you up to today?” Pascale asked. “I heard the girls are out for today and tomorrow?” 

“They’re going to stay in Cannes for the day,” Charles replied before leaning towards his mother and whispered, “Hervé cried twice today, Maman and I’m worried he’s not going to sleep tonight because Aimee’s not here.”

Pascale let out a quick snort and shrugged it off, “Yes he would,” she reassured him with a pat on the head. “He managed to sleep well when you two were out for the weekend.” 

“But that’s with you, Maman,” Charles looked back to find Esteban and Pierre preoccupied with the kids as he continued, “What if the three of them won’t settle because I haven’t been around them for too long and I haven’t put them to bed before? Hervé cried because of his Maman. He sees Aimee more than he does me so—“

“Charles, pause,” Pascale grabbed her son on both of his shoulders and shook him out of his thoughts. “Take a deep breath.” The middle Leclerc man obliged, heaving a deep sigh as his mother told him, “He won’t make things hard for you, Charles. He’s not crying because he likes Aimee more than you, but it’s only because he’s going to have to adjust for tonight. Kids, when they’re outside their routine, act differently when they have to follow a new one — so he’s not acting like that because you’re the one who’s with him tonight.” 

“Hervé loves you, Charles,” Pascale told him softly. “With how he proudly wears your number on his shirt and his jackets, and how he brags about his Papa in the red car, I think I can say that he loves you so much. He will never ever make things hard for you with Aimee not being here for today— or for all those times she wouldn’t be there. So, don’t worry about it. Just don’t make things hard for him either. Try to make sure he’s comfortable with adjusting his routine. Make sure that your children are feeling comfortable with the thought of doing things differently than usual.” 

Charles glanced back at his kids, the pressure on his shoulders long gone as he nodded at Pascale. “Merci, Maman.” 

“Yeah of course,” Pascale giggled quietly. “I’ve always wondered the same when your father was gone. Look where I am now. Look at where you are now. The boys just need to adjust a little, Charles. Just make sure you’re there to guide them if needed.” 

Lewis Hamilton and Toto Wolff were rarely at Monaco, these days. 

After Lewis retired, he thought of selling his house in Monaco. Being a father was what he wanted and clearly, while he was still fit for a celebrity lifestyle he resorted to being a quiet and reserved man. His 5-acre estate in Warwickshire showed something of serenity, their home surrounded by nothing but woods and a river nearby. He was content with being at home with his children while his wife Stevie continued to work as a model and Ferrari’s communications director. He preferred the quiet while he taught his daughter phonemes, and it was clear to everyone he abandoned his flat in Monaco. Now the flat served as his vacation home whenever his family would go on a holiday and see their cousins. 

The same goes to Toto. He hadn’t retired as a team principal yet, but his Monaco place no longer held the same value as his estate in Brackley. One of his kids was already eleven (already in year nine) and playing in his school’s association football team and the other (nine years old) had been entering karting tournaments around England almost every weekend. He once told Charles about his estate and how he had it purchased and renovated long before his eldest son with Tilly even existed — how well he valued his home there and wouldn’t exchange it for Monaco or Austria. Much like Lewis, he was content with his home there, and it didn’t help that the Mercedes factory was only a few minutes away from his home. Toto expressed his interest in selling his house in Monaco once that his vintage Mercedes was moved back to Brackley, but then his nephews were born (and were planned to be raised in Monaco). He then decided that it was a home to go to whenever his kids wanted to see the Leclerc kids — their cousins. 

So after everyone started talking about Lewis Hamilton and Toto Wolff no longer residing in Monaco and their rare appearance in the streets of the principality, it never came as a shock to anyone anymore. It was still rare, but it was expected. 

But the sight of the two, alongside the three current drivers that just sat along the older ones, would be considered hilarious and extra special for the fans. Because not everyday you get to see two Mercedes personnel casually hanging out with a Ferrari driver and two Alpine drivers. At least, not with the two Alpine drivers while they all sat on a cozy indoor playground and cafe in Monte-Carlo. It wasn’t everyday you get to see Toto Wolff and the drivers talk about the racing season while they all sip on some silly cat and animal-themed cups with their kids running amuck in the playing area. 

Toto’s two older kids were somewhere else, and Charles could only assume that they were at the football area. None of his kids were crying yet, and so he sat there relaxed as he listened to whatever Lewis was talking about. 

“Did you really allow Aimee to go with the girls?” Lewis asked Charles, making the Monegasque nod. “You could’ve said no, that way they’re just stuck here in Monaco.”

“She’ll be fine,” Charles was beginning to think that he was only saying those words to reassure himself, not others. “She hasn’t been out for a while.”

“They still could have found something here,” Lewis pointed out.

Charles rolled his eyes, “That’s true. But Aimee lives here, she knows every curb to avoid and I don’t think I don’t want to bore her to death.” 

“Besides,” Charles shrugged nonchalantly, “I don’t want her to think I’m trying to lock her up by making her stay in Monaco all the time.”

“She’s your wife,” Pierre brought up.

“She’s my boys’ Maman, but she’s also been working her ass off trying to keep them happy while I’m gone someplace else,” Charles couldn’t find himself to argue, only telling them what the men needed to hear, “the least I can do is to let her travel the same way I do almost every week.”

“She loves the boys, that’s why her work in McLaren’s now remote,” Toto nodded, reaching on his pastel donut cat cup as he sipped on his tea, “I appreciate you for recognizing that.” 

“It’s the only thing I can do besides spend my time with the kids,” Charles replied, looking around to find his kids as Hervé came dashing and jumping into the ball pit of the soft play area. Hervé’s head popped up from the ball pit as he grinned, finding his father watching as he waved enthusiastically. Charles grinned and waved back before he turned back to the men, “I don’t think I’ll ever regret spending my time with them. If anything, I regret leaving Aimee behind while I go away to race. Lessens my time with the boys.” 

TWO MERCEDES, A FERRARI AND TWO ALPINES WALK INTO A CAFE: The Popular Fathers of F1 were seen on some Father-Children day out in Monte-Carlo.

“Hamilton, Leclerc and Wolff = Fathers of the Year? PLUS, a surprise appearance of Uncles Esteban Ocon and Pierre Gasly included in this article!” 

THE MONTE-CARLO DADDY DAYCARE: These might be the best photos taken of Lewis Hamilton, Toto Wolff and Charles Leclerc yet!

“Where’s Max Verstappen? Oh, and HI ESTIE BESTIE AND PEAR!” 

THE HEARTH HUSBANDS: How Toto Wolff, Lewis Hamilton and Charles Leclerc made the best husband materials ever through these photos.

“Max Verstappen, maybe it’s your time to shine, too!”

Aimee: I’m gonna go to sleep now but omg those photos of you and the other two are so funny haha!!! I’ll talk to you more about it tomorrow, but the babies wanted to say goodnight my love :)

Charles: I’ll tell you so much about the boys’ playdate tomorrow. Sleep well, mon cœur ❤️

Aimee: Give them kisses for me?

Charles: Already did for you. Now sleep.

Aimee: Sleep well, my love 

“Papa?” At first, Charles wanted to fall back asleep at the sound. He thought that he was just dreaming. His dream was literally just about baking those cookies— and with the call of Papa he assumed that he was just being called by the boys from the living room. 

Then he felt a small soft hand on his cheek, making his eyes open slowly as he witnessed his three sons standing there. He sat himself up a little, stretching as he asked, “H, Jules? PJ? What’re you boys doing up?” 

“Nous ne pouvons pas dormir parce que maman ne nous a pas embrassés,” we can’t sleep because Mummy didn’t give us a hug. Jules said as quietly as he could, swinging his body back and forth while he clung onto his Lotso bear. 

PJ pulled his hand back from holding Charles’ face as he meekly stood there, still sucking on the pacifier. 

Hervé nodded at Jules’ comment and sheepishly asked, “Can we sleep here, Papa?”

PJ pulled the pacifier off and added, “Pwease?” 

Charles shook himself out of his thoughts. He was still feeling a bit hazy after being woken up by his kids at… two in the morning. These kids really have a bad habit of waking up in the most inconvenient time. 

But just as he was looking down at his kids, who still stood at his side of the bed, he couldn’t help but smile softly. He might not be Aimee to make them feel comfortable enough to go to sleep after being given a hug, but the least he could do was be there for them. 

Looking back at today’s events, he seemed to be content with the result of his plans and his kids’ reaction towards it. Sure, Hervé might’ve cried for the first three hours, but he soon got comfortable at the thought of spending time with his Papa while Aimee was somewhere else and away from them. PJ proudly dressed himself up and decided what to wear by himself. Jules comforted Hervé when his twin got sad. He was nothing but proud of his boys. He was hella proud of himself.

And he loved his boys so much that he couldn’t deny them anything. Now that he thought of it, it was even harder to deny them anything because Aimee wasn’t here. He was just happy they hadn’t asked for sugar before bed. 

He grinned at his boys and patted the empty spot next to him, hoisting PJ up while he said, “Alright. Up we go then, boys. Let’s go get some good sleep.”

It’s safe to say that the Leclerc daycare went well today. That was a major achievement for Charles. Thank god for his mother and other peer support, right?

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[its-time-to-write]

AH I've been waiting for requests to be open! i love love loveeee your writing!! I've been in dire need (if you feel like writing it lol) of reader comforting jamie after the locker room scene w his dad at wembley.. like maybe instead of roy hugging him the reader swoops in? you do you! thanks!! <3

Listened to 17 Pushing 24 by Sabrina Sterling while writing this. Highly recommend ✌️🥲

i know what i’m doing

Sometimes Jamie wonders if you two are attracted to each other due to your compelling need to take care of everything. 

It certainly was difficult at first, both of you with residual issues due to your upbringing. His as the only son of a single mother, yours as the oldest daughter of a large family. 

Those types of child-caretakers aren’t always compatible. Jamie’s much more lighthearted about the way he tries to control everything, and you’re more serious.

You’d think it would be easier, both of you taking care of each other, except for the small fact that neither of you were capable of accepting help from the other. 

It came to a head one evening when Jamie came home to you crying in the laundry room, overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the tasks you had yet to complete before going to bed. 

“Love, I can help you,” Jamie had said.

“No! It’s my laundry and my responsibility and you already have enough to do without me burdening you even more,” you replied before dissolving into more tears. 

So yeah, it was a whole thing. It involved therapy and everything.

But you’re moving past it. You’re both getting to a point where each of you can receive the same love that you’re giving, however strange it may feel. Jamie even let you stay home from work to take care of him when he was sick a couple weeks ago, something that was pretty much unheard of up to this point.

You’re channeling the need to control things in healthy ways, like having all of AFC Richmond over to Jamie’s giant house for potluck-style family dinners. Or hosting non-video game nights, where FIFA is strictly banned as a form of entertainment. Or themed outings where everyone had to dress as something that shared the first letter of their name and then go see a movie at the local theater. 

Stuff like that. 

You’re the brains, Jamie is the execution. You can see Isaac side-eyeing him a couple times, making mental notes about temporary captains in the event that he can’t play a match. 

Jamie’s gone from Richmond’s resident prick to Richmond’s resident morale-booster.

He comes home one evening with brighter eyes than normal.

“Babe,” he calls before he’s even in the door, “Coach said I can go back to being a prick again.”

“Ted said that?” you ask from your spot on the couch. You’re laying down length-wise with your legs dangling off the end.

“Fuck no,” Jamie replies, “Roy.”

“Oh,” you say as Jamie plops his bags down. You sit up a little so he can have a spot on the couch. He pats his lap so you lay back down, head on his thigh.

“Roy said that Ted fucked me up, so ‘when it’s appropriate’” (he uses air quotes) “I can be a prick to the other team.”

“That’s nice, babe,” you say, “but how do you know when to do that?”

Jamie shrugs. “Coach said he’d give me a signal. Don’t know what it is, though.”

You say, “hm,” then lapse into comfortable silence, Jamie’s hand running through your hair.

—

The prick signal worked so much better than you could have thought. It’s the best. You see Jamie go from playing defensively to being completely offensive, screwing with the other team’s heads. You scream and clap as he scores, while Keeley practically throttles you with joy.

Now it’s late after the game, and the lads are all over at Jamie’s. They’re absolutely exhausted, but buzzing with energy. It isn’t until about 1am that they disperse to the various guest bedrooms and pass out on top of each other. You catch a glimpse of Dani cuddling Jan Maas who’s asleep in a starfish position as Colin sneaks in to draw on their faces with sharpie. 

“Don’t tell anyone it was me,” he whispers. You zip your lips and head to the master bedroom and pretty much fall onto the right side of the bed.

Jamie comes in shortly after, saying something about Isaac telling a bedtime story. He burrows under the covers and you quietly shriek because he’s placed his ice-cold hands on your ribcage.

“How are you so cold?” you whisper.

Jamie shrugs sleepily. “Dunno,” he whispers back. “Got ice in my veins, I guess.”

You smile. “You’re tired, aren’t you babe?”

Jamie shakes his head and stifles a yawn. “Nah, ain’t tired. Thinkin’ about our match against Man City.”

He says it casually. Too casually.

You see, both you and Jamie have this thing where the more nonchalantly you say something, the more important it is.

You prop yourself up a bit so you can face him and scratch his head. He sighs and leans in.

“You nervous?” you ask.

Jamie shakes his head. “Not to see the team. Lookin’ forward to seeing Pep. It’s just…” he trails off.

You whisper, “Yeah. I know. Whatever happens, I’m here. Don’t forget that. I’m here no matter what.”

Jamie says, “hm,” and then he’s asleep.

—

You’re running. 

You’re running faster than any of the boys on the pitch had run the entire match, and you’re pushing past people in a way that Keeley would later describe as “absolutely fucking feral.”

It happened like this:

The game was over. Richmond lost to Man City.

You were on your way to see Jamie and the rest of the team.

You were, maybe, three floors away? when Rebecca got a text from Ted, showed it to you, and before you knew it you were flying down to the guest locker room to find Jamie.

Of course his dick father would show up to make this day worse. Of course he would.

You’re ducking under security and pushing your way to the locker room in a flurry of motion, then immediately stop.

It’s silent, absolutely silent. 

And so still.

No one moves a muscle as your eyes land on Jamie, clinging to Roy like he’s a lifeline. Roy. Roy Kent, self-proclaimed Jamie-hater and staunch advocate against physical touch.

Jamie’s eyes are squeezed shut, but they flutter open at the sound of your tentative footsteps. He lets go of Roy for a moment, but only so that you can grab him in the next.

“Right,” says Roy, “Everybody get the fuck out!”

There are no complaints as the lads hurriedly grab their bags and exit the locker room.

Roy nods in your direction before leaving, and Beard mouths, “take your time.” You’re not sure where Ted’s gone off to.

Jamie feels like he’s going to collapse if he stands any longer, crushing you in the strongest grip you’ve ever felt.

“Oi,” you say gently, “let’s sit down, yeah? You don’t have to let go.”

So now you’re on the bench in Jamie’s lap, scratching his head in the way he likes, waiting for him to break the silence.

“Fucking stupid,” he says, voice muffled.

You ask, “What?” because surely that can’t be what he just said.

“I said it’s fucking stupid,” Jamie says, refusing to meet your eyes. “I’m a fucking adult. Don’t need to be crying about stupid shit, especially not in front of the lads.”

“Oh, right,” you say before you can stop yourself, “because crying after your dick father tried to swing at you when you set boundaries for the first time ever is a completely unreasonable response.”

Jamie is still in your arms and you cringe. Curse your stupid, logical tongue.

Jamie finally says, “Didn’t think about it like that.” He sighs. “It’s just fuckin’ embarrassing, innit? Him showing up here like that. Didn’t need the lads seeing that.”

You kiss his forehead. 

“The only person it’s embarrassing for is him. Not you. You’re absolutely fine, Jaim. If anything, the boys are going to look at you better for finally understanding the shit you had to grow up with.”

Jamie nods, but you’re not sure if he believes you.

“Jamie,” you say firmly, “It’s not your fault. You handled it the best way it could have been handled. You did a great job.”

Those words seem to do something to Jamie, and his face takes on an expression you’ve never seen before

He asks, “You think so?” in such a forlorn manner than you have the sudden urge to find James Tartt and kick him in the balls with steel-toed shoes. You briefly wonder if Roy and Beard would like to join you.

“Yes,” you reply forcefully, “Yes Jamie. You did a wonderful job in a shitty situation and I’m very, very proud of you.”

Jamie doesn’t reply, just holds you tighter if that’s even possible. He takes a deep shuddering breath, but it’s the first real one he’s taken this entire time. 

“I told you I’m here no matter what,” you say. “Just like all the times you’ve been here for me. Now I’m here for you.”

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

[lisannastraussisanangel]

would love to hear ur headcanons for the canon couples (Nalu, Gruvia, Jerza, Gajevy) as first time parents

Fun fact: I actually wrote a fic about them adopting children (well Jerza, Nalu, and Elfever) if anyone is interested in that :)

Nalu

Lucy is literally stressed out the whole time

Natsu is pretty chill but his protectiveness has tripled

Lucy is the strict parent and Natsu is the fun one, but he will back Lucy up when needed

Unfortunately because of his heightened senses, Natsu really struggles with the baby crying. It's way louder for him and even hurts when he's holding the baby (too close to the ears)

Natsu struggles to sleep too. One because of the baby waking him up, but also because he is super protective and wakes up multiple times a night just to check on the baby (Lucy also doesn't sleep through the night but Natsu more so)

Lucy cheats and summons her spirits to help look after the baby. It really helps the new parents get time to rest (and also her spirits love the little baby so its a win win)

While they take turns working, Lucy usually stays home more. She knows Natsu needs to get out all his energy and she has no problem being a stay at home mom (at least for a little bit)

Gruvia

Juvia is literally always crying. Everything the baby does causes Juvia to burst into tears

Gray is in love. He's literally always cooing over the baby

They fight over who has to be the strict parents because both of them wanna be the fun one. Usually Juvia ends up as the strict one

Gray worries so much about the baby that he spends most nights sleeping in the nursery. Juvia keeps a spare blanket and pillow in there now, just so he can be more comfortable

The entire house is covered in toys (and other baby things). It has completely taken over their lives

Neither of them wanna work because they want to spend as much time with their baby as possible (unfortunately they have to so they take turns and only take simple jobs)

Juvia knits cute little onesies for the baby. She makes little dolls too. The dolls match the onesies. Its adorable

Jerza

Erza is super prepared and can literally handle any baby issue (throw up, diaper, teething, etc). She's got everything

Jellal on the other hand is always panicking. The baby hiccups? He's freaking out about if he has to go to the ER

Erza bought so many clothes for the baby. She treats them like a little doll and is always playing dress up

They are both the strict parents. Not terribly but they raise their child to behave (tho both are known to give in to the puppy dog eyes)

Jellal cries a lot. He cried when he found out Erza was pregnant, cried when the baby was born, cried when they brought the baby home, etc (he never thought he'd have a life like this)

For the first couple months after the baby is born, Jellal tries to do as much as possible because he wants Erza to rest (she did do all the hard work for nine months so it's only fair that he steps up after birth)

Somehow their home is always clean and they both always look well rested (well Jellal has permanent eye bags but that's just his normal sleep depravation). No one knows how they are so put together with a newborn

Gajevy

Gajeel is that dad that is always talking about his baby. He's always showing pictures, will turn any conversation into a baby story, and in general cannot go five minutes without talking about his baby

Levy did so much research before the baby was born. She bought literally anything and everything the books recommended

Unfortunately that means when something happens that wasn't in the book, Levy panics

Gajeel also has issues with his heightened senses. Levy takes pity on him when it comes to diaper changes (Gajeel has thrown up from particularly foul ones)

Gajeel tried to do that thing where you make the baby listen to music in the moms stomach, but it was his singing. Levy would come up with every excuse in the book for this not to happen

He does sing to the baby now, but Levy finds it adorable and likes to listen (his voice is more suited for lullaby's)

Levy reads to the baby every night. Her book picks vary from actual kids books to textbooks but the baby doesn't know the difference anyway

#i really love to imagine them as parents #anon <3 #fairy tail #fairy tail headcanons #gruvia #jerza #nalu #gajevy #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #erza scarlet #gray fullbuster #juvia lockser #jellal fernandes #levy mcgarden #gajeel redfox #natsu x lucy #lucy x natsu #gajeel x levy #levy x gajeel #erza x jellal #jellal x erza #gray x juvia #juvia x gray

[twinkle-with-stars]

Astrology observations 8.1♥️

Disclaimer: This is written on basis of my learning and observations of astrology, they may or may not reasonate with you. Do not steal or reword my work. None of the pictures or gifs used are mine.

Helloo, everyone soo this time I'm sharing some mini observations I made, hope you all like it✨

--Pisces for some reason need to smell everything that is new to them and I've noticed perfumes are quite important to them.

Pro tip- wear a nice perfume and smell good if trying to impress a pisces native.

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--Plutonians often have or like minimalistic aesthetics on themselves and colorful, extravagant on others.

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--Lilith in 7th house people might like bizzare things or make bold choices when it comes to their fashion and aesthetic choices they might even get hatred for it, other people will criticize them in a bad way for making such choices, people question their fashion choices alot.

Side note: I read on some website the Lilith in 7th are often like "this dress is soo bizzare that it's beautiful" something like that and oh I reasonated with it soo much it's soo truee.

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--Virgos loveeee to be organised, they just love it and it's really annoying to me they're soo organized that they make their houses look like hotels.

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--I've noticed something that people with scorpio in 4th house don't get much support from their parents like the material support and are often treated with tough love, these people have to manage most of the things on their own,

They also have to act like a protective sheild for their mother either they want it or not but they have to do it.

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--Want a Capricorn placement to do something for you? Especially mars? Make them feel like it's their duty, responsibility or job ( whatever fits best) and they'll do it for you, Haha jk but it works.

--Teachers with mercury in Scorpio often threaten and use intimidation as means to make their students learn, not only teachers but if they want you to understand or learn something told by them they'll like, deepen their voices, blink less and stare at you soo you listen and learn out of fear.

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--Aries venus people are really sexy. Their ambition and abilities to just flirt and be playful around with a pinch of competition is soo attractive they just appeal by being fierce and cute at the se time.

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--Scorpios I don't know why but don't text first, may be to maintain a mysterious air around them,but this comes off as them being ignorant of the person on the other side without them meaning to.

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--Asteroid mony(7782) making an aspect with the ascendant can make one look like they are very stable and grounded, a bit intimidating too.

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--Sun in 12th house people are really really ambitious and hardworking they shine through their efforts.

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--People with Chiron in capricorn might have problems with their dad's some even have daddy issues, this is also true for people with Chiron in 9th house.

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--Saturn in 2nd house blesses one with being born in a family that is well off and they don't need to struggle much for things in early years of life but as they get older they don't get to enjoy this wealth, there can be several reasons for that but the common theme is that they have to earn on their own later and can't depend on that money from family.

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--Taurus rising are quite tall people..Atleast the ones I know. They have really nice bodies and some thick sort of skin that looks soo gorgeous and dewy.

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--You will have the most interesting relationships with people who have something common with your Lilith placement:

For ex. If you Lilith in pisces this person could have lilith in pisces or in 12th or making a major aspect to Jupiter/Neptune.

It's like this person hates you but will always secretly admire you and be jealous of how good you are, such relationships carry a taboo appeal, something they're attracted to but shouldn't be (especially if it's with someone of your opposite energy as in feminine and masculine).

.

I'm done here please feel free to like, reblog and share your thoughts I would love to know what y'all think about these. Byee

#twinkle with stars #astrology #astro notes #astro observations #astrology notes #astrology observations #natal chart #zodiac #aesthetic #kpop #fotd #saturn in 2nd house #Scorpio #aries venus

[crushedsweets]

Got any cool hip creepypasta headcanons?!?😱😱

DEPENDS... its hard without any specific prompts but yk what anon im capable of talking out of my ass no matter what.

this'll be talking about the main 12 i usually talk about, so if i say smth like 'so and so is the ONLY one who does this', they aren't actually the only one

toby rides a bike everywhere. he just steals random ones if he sees one he likes or knows hes hella far from home and doesnt wanna walk. brought home a pink beach cruiser once and natalie laughed her ass off. . .

the proxies (tim, brian, toby) have a cabin that tim and brian treat more like a safehouse rather than a home. tim and brian share an apartment near the city though. toby is the only one who lives there full time. they all have to pitch in for the bills, but toby has to scramble to get the majority bc again.. lives there full time.

the cabin only has 2 bedrooms, 1.5 baths, a connected kitchen/living room, and an attic. the small bedroom is filled to the fucking BRIM with random bullshit that they keep as storage but its just ridicoulous. like boxes filled with random shit toby steals (i kinda hc toby as a kleptomaniac too), tables, dressers, clothes, etc. a lot of it is also stuff that like, jeff or nat dropped off being like 'keep this safe for me' and it eventually just devolved into a storage room. the master bedroom is where tim or brian sleep IF they are at the cabin. toby made the attic his bedroom, but he falls asleep on the couch or in the master bedroom if the other two aren't home. he just likes that the attic is someplace nobody else really wants to go cuz.. why would they need to?

tim owns a busted rusty reddish colored pickup truck. he totally named it something like sheila and calls it a 'she.' brian prob just has a basic little grey honda. does not name it . .

natalie has huge issues w her gender. not in a queer way(well sort of in a queer way bc im projecting) but in a like. 'fuck this shit im fucking tired' because growing up, she was always a daughter, sister, niece, etc before she was her own person. she grew up in a house of men, and her extended family was largely ran by shitty, loud, sexist men that constantly ostracized her for being a girl. toby is legit the only dude she's fully like Ok. I'm ok with u. ur just fucking stupid. and she pokes fun at him being a mamas boy and says thats why shes ok with him. she stopped talking to him for like a month the one time he made a gender roles comment that he got from his dad.

natalie used to play volleyball and basketball growing up cuz again, grew up with boys and she was always really tall (like 5'7 in 6th grade, 6ft by highschool). sports and art were her ONLY outlets, but she was always degraded and shamed by her dad and brother for art. her dad loved that she played sports though, one of the only things he was supportive about . until she got a little older and he decided that being a tomboy wasnt as endearing on a teenage girl.

i cannot explain how close jane and her parents were. she was an only child in a upper middle class house to a lawyer and a real estate agent so she was always spoiled rotten, taken care of, always told how beautiful and smart she was. hence why losing them is the most fucking detrimental shit to ever happen to her. she literally worhsips her parents. she's wore mothers wedding dress to her own wedding. her uncle(dads brother) walked her down the aisle holding a framed photo of her dad. she almost refused to walk during her university graduation because her parents couldn't be there, despite the years worth of hardwork and dedication she put into it.

mary(janes wife) was janes bestfriend in highschool. it was one of those crazy homoerotic female friendships. they were eachothers first kiss even when they thought they were straight ("oh lets practice kiss for our future bfs!").

my idea of ben kinda combines the idea of ben the kid who drowned, and BEN the experiment to put souls into a digital afterlife. ben bought majoras mask from some creepy neighbor at a garage sale, and the neighbor had like. this completely absurd theory that he could put himself into a game or something. so he ended up tricking several kids into buying the same majoras mask cartridge, killing them after they beat the game together, and their souls DID get trapped in the cartridge but it didnt do much for his theory... WHICH MEANS that BEN is a culmination of several people, kids and teens raging from like 7-19, but the ben we know is sort of like.. the only one who escaped the cartridge (he was the last one killed and the reason the man got caught for murder)? but he was stuck in said cartridge for about like 7 years before he was 'reawoken' so traces of others souls are in him. ITS REALLY COMPLICATED it makes sense in my head but idk. he has a lot of identity issues that come packed with having his childhood stolen from him.

he's so close to sally because he relates to her on that level. while their trauma was different, being a kid taken advantage of and fucking murdered is insane. despite coming from completely different time periods (sally died in the 1900s, ben died in the 2000s), ben can only find himself truly relating to sally on an emotional level. sure, him jeff and toby can laugh and play video games and wrestle and stuff, but sally is the only one who can even begin to understand what it's like to be a dead kid.

sally and ben kinda make a lot of comments about humans and stuff LOL. most of it is in the 'you ungrateful pieces of shit you THREW AWAY YOUR LIFE' but sometimes it's something more bittersweet. 'you lived to adulthood, you have so much, you can do so much, please keep going, there's so much left for you, don't let it go' etc etc. they can sometimes be the wisest in their perspectives of life, death, mortality. but theyre both so bitter and traumatized and hurt but it that it's mostly overshadowed by envy. that's why the two of them can be so close, even if they dont really sit and like.. philosophize about life. lmfao

ben has gotten into several like police and governemnt systems and removed so many cctv footage of everyone getting in trouble, or even wiped their shit from systems. he is like the main reason none of them are in jail unironically.

jeff is the only one who truly enjoys murder. he's a sadist at heart and has a fetish for all this blood and guts. toby and natalie did have their own periods in life where they killed for relief/as a power trip(toby only ever did it under orders, natalie took some sleezy guys home from bars). the rest of them either aren't killers, or don't do it by choice (brian and tim).

i was gonna ramble about nina next but im kinda embarrassed that i just spoke so much about them BAHAHAH OK THANKS ANON

#chatterbox #hcs #creeped #ummm #creepypasta #ticci toby #clockwork #jane everlasting #jane richardson #ben drowned #natalie oullette #asks

[jayrlz]

STACY’S MOM – JAY

( but it’s actually her dad )

warnings : u literally crush on ur bffs dad, jay + daddy issues wbk, very suggestive

listen to : stacy’s mom by fountains of wayne

part 2 !

your phone binged and the screen opened thanks to the notification received.

“ wanna come over and sit by the pool? ”

it wrote under stacy’s contact.

how can i make this about her dad without making it about her dad, you thought.

well, you obviously couldn’t. what were you gonna do? ask if mr. park was going to be there? that’s the weirdest thing you could possibly ask over text.

so instead, you called her.

“ what’s up, you can’t make it? ” her voice spoke on the other line, clearly confused on why you couldn’t text her.

“ i’m getting ready right now, is mr park gonna be there? ” you asked, trying to make it less weird, causing it to be a lot weirder.

“ as in my dad? ”

“ how many mr parks do you know? my dad wants me to give him something. ” okay, that was a valid excuse which came in a record time; without the need of ‘um’s or ‘er’s.

“ oh, that makes sense. yup, he’s probably gonna join us in the pool for a bit, if you’re cool with that. hurry up, we wanna order take out! ” she said, and quickly hang up on you.

after putting on your swimsuit and a short summer dress, you rushed over to your friend’s house.

she probably saw you while she were sitting outside, since you didn’t even have to knock before the door opened.

except behind it, it wasn’t stacy.

of course, since the world hates you, and since stacy’s too lazy to get up herself and open the door, there stood her dad, smiling at you.

“ hey y/n, good to see you. ” he spoke, and you smiled back at him, hoping your face hadn’t turned fully red.

“ hi mr park! ” you said as he stepped aside, and playfully rolled his eyes.

“ i’ve already told you, there’s no need to call me ‘mr park’, you’re nineteen now. just call me jay. ” he said with a sly smile and you nodded, chuckling at his words.

you both walked to the pool, where the dark haired girl run up to you and gave you a hug. “ what’d you want to give to my dad? ”

okay, you totally forgot about that! great job!

both stacy and jay looked at expectedly for a good two seconds - that seemed like a year - as you tried to come up with an excuse.

“ ah, it must have been that screwdriver i let him borrow. i already told him he can keep it, sorry for the extra effort y/n, but you’ll have to take it straight back. ” he laughed and you nodded, as he then walked to the side.

before you knew it, stacy was dragging you to get in the pool, and you almost did, before you looked at mr park’s side.

there he was, slowly - or, it must have been your brain playing it at 0.5 - taking his shirt off, letting you see his ripped body.

you swore your mouth watered on the spot. he threw his shirt to the side, as he in a very model-like way pushed his hair back.

the sun which was previously hidden by some clouds appeared, causing the perfect golden hour effect to land on his beautiful face, highlighting all his angel-carved features.

your eyes shifted lower, and that’s when the clear lining on his swimwear made you gulp.

how big was this man’s dick exactly? you swore you’ve never seen-

“ y/n! ”

your friends voice caught you off guard, as you turned to look at stacy who was covered up to her neck with water by now.

“ are you daydreaming about my dad? ”

your heart dropped on the stop and you immediately opened your mouth to defend yourself, but it had gone dry.

“ geez i’m kidding, why’d your face drop? ” she laughed, “ come on in, what’s taking you so long? ”

and so you walked towards the small stairs, yet since you took ages to get in, mr par- jay had caught up with you.

he softly placed his arm on your waist as he looked at you, “ what’s taking you so long, y/n? scared it’s gonna be too big? ”

your eyes went wide and your cheeks got red at his words, “ s..sorry? what did you j..just ask me? ”

“ whether you thought it’d be too cold? ..did i say something wrong? ” he asked confused at your reaction.

you quickly peaked at stacy, scared she’d be able to tell something by your reaction as she knew you too well, yet luckily for you, she was practicing an underwater handstand ( which wasn’t going too well ) .

“ no, ” you nervously chuckled, “ i must have misheard you. ”

he chuckled with a small smirk,

“ you didn’t. ”

and with that he went in the pool.

#enhypen #enhypen angst #enhypen crack #enhypen drabbles #enhypen fic #enhypen fluff #enhypen humor #enhypen smut #jay enhypen #jay imagines #jay smut #jay x reader #jay fluff #jay crack #jay fic #jay headcanons #jay drabbles #jay daddy issues

[cultofdixon]

I’m Lucky I Found You

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • Finally a Christmas without having to worry about anything but what’s been around since square one • SFW/Lil Angst • TW: Mentions of Pregnancy & Birth / Mentions of Frostbite

Happy Holidays y’all 🤍🎄

“It’s snowing!” The small child was up against the glass of the living room window watching the snow fall for a moment before pulling herself away to bother a few certain people upstairs.

The child struggles to climb onto the bed, resulting in her falling off along with the blanket covering the sleeping few. The thud caused the two in the bed to shot forward to the sound.

“I’m ok!”

“She’s gonna be the death of me” the drawl of his southern accent was music to the other’s tired ears as she rubs the sleep from her eyes. “You alright sweet pea?”

“Yes! Go back to sleep” the child wiggles herself out of the blanket only for the dog to investigate her momentarily as she collects herself.

“You heard the little one” He immediately wraps his arm around his significant other slamming them both back onto the bed causing a gasp to escape her.

“Daryl!”

“Shh. We’re supposed to be sleepin’ Y/N so Fallon wakes us up” Daryl rolled himself on top of his other half making her laugh beneath him. He suddenly rolled off when he was suddenly smacked on the back. “Okay what the hell!”

“It’s snowing!” Fallon went to smack him again when Daryl suddenly grabbed his squealing daughter bringing her into the cuddle puddle. “I wanna go outside! Not stay in bed!”

“Five more minutes” Daryl sandwiched his kid between him and his girl hearing them both giggle like maniacs.

After finally getting up and getting the overly excited child dressed for the snow, Fallon sprinted out the front door and immediately fell into a pile of snow. Daryl sprinted out shortly after to pick her up and make sure she didn’t hurt herself but once he lifted her, she started to giggle again.

“She really is gonna be the death of you” Y/N laughs a bit adjusting Dog’s sweater before letting him run out to the two and eventually the Grimes kids that joined.

“Uncle Daryl! Auntie Y/N! It’s snowing!” Judith smiles running over to Fallon the second she was set down as the two started to get to work on their snowman.

“Imma get the fireplace going, and maybe a certain birdie would be awake. Don’t let Fallon or Judith slip on the ice D” Y/N chimes in before letting Michonne and baby RJ into the house to enjoy the warmth.

“I ain’t gonna let’em slip—-hey no running!” Daryl yells watching the two run in the direction of the pantry to get a carrot for their snowman. But slipped every now and then because of the ice on the street. “They’re really out to get me” he groans catching up but didn’t see the curb do to the snow and tripped into a pile of it.

“Oh my god” Of course Aaron had to make his way over to the Dixon’s right as Daryl face planted. “Yknow…That’s not how you make a snow angel”

“Once I get up, I’m killing yea” Daryl groans taking the extended hand from his friend as Gracie gave them both pleading looks while holding the fish they’re bringing to Christmas. “They’re finding a carrot for their snowman, I’ll take that and you join’em?” He smiles watching the little one light up handing off the dish to Daryl before joining Judith and Fallon.

“So how’s Y/N holding up? Still spooked by what happened during the summer?”

“A bit. Fuck, so am I” Daryl frowns rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. “But the Dixon and Grimes kids are fighters.”

“Hey don’t forget about my kid” Aaron smiles being a proud dad over his little one. “They’re all fighters”

“But still our babies” Daryl adds watching Judith and Fallon help Gracie up to put the finishing touch on their snowman. The sound of the gates opening startled the three a bit but once they saw who it was they started to run toward the arrivals.

“Better hope Auntie Carol didn’t bring another knife for Fallon” Aaron elbows his friend getting an eye roll in response. Not that Y/N has an issue with it, just Daryl wanting his little girl to stay his little girl forever and will always be protective of her.

The kids ran toward Carol and Ezekiel’s wagon and before they even got close, Henry stopped all of them picking them all up. The four-five year olds squealed giggling trying to get out of the teen’s arms as he mainly stopped them so the horses wouldn’t trample them.

“Need a hand?” Carol laughs patting her son on the back once they got the horses handled as he sets the kids down for all of them to swarm their aunt Carol. “Wow pawning them off to me?”

“They want to see you more than me” Henry scoffs playfully before going to help his dad.

“Did you bring it auntie Carol? Did you?” Judith smiles up at Carol as she couldn’t help her own before going to grab the thing in question.

The thing was the famous Grimes hat, Carol took it to get it padded to fit the five year old better. Judith squeals happily hugging Carol once more before running toward the Dixon house to show her mom. Gracie smiles happily going over to Ezekiel and hugging him quickly as Fallon made grabby hands toward her aunt being picked up immediately.

“You driving your dad crazy yet?” Carol smiles watching Fallon shake her head as she held onto her while she carried the little one. “Well there’s always time”

Soon everyone was in the Dixon house enjoying the company of their friends and family. Daryl went into the kitchen to grab a glass for Siddiq when he spotted Y/N staring at an unopened envelope by the sink while she held their two year old in her arms. The young one instantly ratting out his existence.

“Daddy”

Y/N immediately turns to the archer taking not only a clean glass for their friend, but their son Robin out of her arms.

“Gonna read it?”

“I don’t know if I’d like what is written…but she did go out of her way to write it and give it to someone she trusts to deliver it to me” Y/N frowns for just a second, only for her smile to return when not only Daryl kisses her forehead but Robin mimicking his daddy’s action.

“The kiddos wanna go out in the snow again, could give yea the time. Or we can go out later when everybody is settled and asleep. Give yea more privacy”

“You are the most perfect man…” Y/N smiles bringing herself close to kiss her husband, and then their little one. “But I just need a second…”

“Take all the time yea need. But I don’t make any promises that I won’t check on yea” Right as Daryl was making his leave, Y/N tugged on the back of his poncho.

“You need to get Robin suited for the snow. We don’t need to worry about frostbite”

Daryl scoffs with a smirk knowing damn well he’s gonna bubble wrap his two year old with snow clothes before joining the rest of the family.

Right as Robin was set in the snow in his layers, he immediately sprinted for the dog as Fallon whispers to Judith and Gracie what they should do. Making the three swarm Robin and add him into their plan. Michonne found purchase on the porch to their home watching the kids hide behind a snow covered bush to make snowballs.

“Dog, stick with’em” Daryl whistles at Dog who was already following the small pack of kids before sitting with Michonne. “Better cover RJ”

“Oh you already know their plan?”

“Yea think we ain’t gonna be pelted by snowballs at least once during the snowy season?”

“Fair” Michonne laughs using her scarf and blanket gifted by Aaron to cover them both. Her laugh faded along with her smile as she didn’t want to bring it up but Daryl could tell.

“No change…once it’s warmer in setting out for another two weeks.”

“I love your dedication Daryl and I appreciate it for more than just my sake…but it’s okay to stick around and just have to stay that way.” Michonne sighs softening a bit as she looks down at RJ who was comfortable snuggled up to his mother. “Your wife is too understanding. Given everything we’ve all faced…but you don’t want to miss any of this”

Daryl knew Y/N was always understanding of everything he’s done. She was always going to be on his side, even if he can be wrong, but those times she’s always told him how she felt about it.

________

“Daryl”

“I can’t talk Y/N. I gotta get my gear”

“But Daryl”

Daryl stops the second he heard it as he drops everything he was holding onto the bed to bring Y/N into his embrace after hearing her start to sob.

“Daryl…if you have to, you have to. But p-please. It’s not just me anymore…” Y/N continued to sob holding onto Daryl as he wasn’t letting go any time soon knowing she’s referring to their kids. Their two beautiful kids that couldn’t afford to lose either of them or anymore of their family.

“I still gotta look…but I’ll always come back. For all of you…I ain’t disappearing”

________

“He’s my brother…I won’t ever stop, but I’m not planning on missin’ any of this” Daryl gave Michonne a quick smile before it faded when the snowball was met with his face. Michonne immediately snorted to what happened as the little gasps from the girls were heard and the shocked expression on Daryl’s youngest was met with a harmless glare from their dad.

“He was supposed to aim for your chest”

“He’s a good shot!” Judith laughs giving another snow ball to Robin as he held it while Daryl got up towering the small child watching him drop the snowball.

“Guess I’ve got an advantage” Daryl picked up Robin holding him carefully but like he’d hold his crossbow. Robin started squealing as he picked up a snowball when Daryl lowered him enough to get one. “Get’em Robin!” He pointed toward sibling as Fallon was met with a snowball to the face.

“Scatter!” Fallon yells running away from the human crossbow being held by the expert.

Carol stepped out of the house with Henry to join in on the fun by getting a snowball set up and hitting her own son. Henry immediately started picking up the snow making them into snowballs before hitting anybody on site. The three little girls teamed up to get everybody who was also throwing snowballs.

The small fight lasted for what felt like hours which lead to Daryl carrying his sleepy kids back inside and Carol carrying Judith while Henry follows exhausted. Aaron carried Gracie inside as they all decided to have them sleepover. Part of having everyone under the same roof was comforting, reminded the quarry few about their time in the prison before the chaos. Daryl handed blankets off to everybody who needed one, watching Fallon get comfortable with Judith and Gracie as she refused to sleep in her own bed when her friends were over. Robin was comfortable in his Aunt Carol’s arms as she sat by the fire with Henry and Ezekiel.

Once he was sure knowing they’re all comfortable, Daryl went in search for his other half as it didn’t take long to find her outside on the porch swing with a now open letter.

“Everything alright?”

“Hershel is doing good, so is Maggie…but they aren’t coming back for a while” Y/N frowns readjusting when Daryl sat beside her wrapping his arm around her shoulders as she brought her blanket to cover them both.

“To Alexandria? That was obvious…cuz of Negan”

“No, to Hilltop. All of it. She’s going to explore more of what’s out there…with her son. Find and help people pretty much” Y/N leaned into Daryl feeling him rub up and down her arm soothingly. “Who knows when she’ll come back…”

“She’s strong. She and Hershel Jr. will be alright” Daryl kisses the top of her head hearing her hum happily. “And when she needs us, she’ll come back”

“I hope so” Y/N snuggles into her husband more feeling him tighten his hold on her. She looked out into the community seeing it start to snow once again as in a sense it was calming. “Daryl?”

“Yeah doll?”

“I’m lucky I found you”

Daryl felt the heat rise to his face and the uncontrollable smile break out on his face as he rests his chin on top of her head bringing her even closer.

“I’m lucky I found you too”

#cultofdixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction

[dogboyjackkennedy]

even MORE kennedy family hcs if possible :evil:

woo!

and on today's headcanons: Visits With Family (when Jack and Peter were little)

(* also keep in mind: Jack is trans)

Visits with Marshall's Family (aka Dad's side of the family):

Marshall's family is. Loud. not great for sensory issues.

Jack and Peter have a lot of cousins on that side. so lots of people to play with.

Jack was always a more rambunctious kid, something that a lot of other kids found weird for a "little girl," but his cousin were just like "well, as long as she* can keep up, then she can play!"

Jack could, in fact, keep up

they were definitely more understanding about some of Jack and Peter's sensory issues, and the fact that they couldn't exactly help it. didn't help the noise problem, though

when Jack came out as trans, they didn't fully get it, but they were chill (especially Aunt Jan, she thought it was cool :]). His grandfather said "Well, Marshall, I guess that means you've got another man to help you around the house, eh?" even though Jack was. very much already doing that

all in all? pretty nice, just a bit too loud for the two of them to spend much time around.

Visits with Diane's Family (aka Mom's side):

hell. It Is Hell.

Diane's family absolutely sucks and is shitty to just about everyone, and that extends to their grandkids.

they give zero shits about any texture issues Jack or Peter might have. oh, you didn't like the dress we gave you, Jackie? how ungrateful, that cost us a lot of money, you know. what do you mean Peter doesn't like the onions in the spaghetti sauce because he doesn't like how squishy they are? well, he's either gonna have to man up or starve, because we're not making him something different just because he can't stop being a crybaby.

seriously, it got to the point that Diane would have to call her parents before they visited so she could make sure they were actually making something that Peter and Jack could eat.

her family also tried to shove Gender Roles onto her kids. which Diane fucking hated, by the way

Jack like wearing pants more since skirts and dresses typically had the Worst fucking textures. it wasn't even necessarily because he hated the dresses and stuff themselves, it was just because it was impossible to find anything (affordable) that didn't have World's Worst Fucking Texture. unfortunately uh. Diane's Family Was Very Judgemental About This. if any family pictures were being taken, then Jack was basically shoved into a dress. this should go without saying, but Jack Fucking Hated That.

due to Diane's family shoving gender roles on everyone despite how much they all fucking HATE it, Jack's usually laughed off whenever he wants to play with some of the boys. playing with the girls also sucks because "they don't ever wanna talk about dogs or go garden with me in the dirt because they "dOn't waNnA GeT meSsY". they just gossip and have no idea how to do hair Gently" (< Jack doesn't mind gossip, but theirs was Boring, and uh. Need I Remind You Of The Autism)

due to this, Jack Really Hates Visiting That Side Of The Family.

coming out as trans was. A Fucking Nightmare. Diane tried to make it clear that they supported her son, but her parents were just like Oh, so Jacqueline's one of Those people, huh? you can. Imagine how things went from there

anyway, completely unrelated, but Jack and Peter kinda cut that side of the family off after their parents died. I'm Sure There's No Particular Reason For That

#dsaf #jack kennedy #peter kennedy #The Kennedy Parents (dsaf)

[360iris]

Can we talk about how wholesome and terrifying mafia au girldad!James would be???

poly!marauders x m/c (of course)

James and Lily still have Harry, who is about 14 at this point

M/c got pregnant about four years back and she ends up having a girl, who they name something like Maggi— though at some point, Sirius starts calling her ‘Magpie’ and it just sorta sticks (even after she becomes an adult)

They don’t know whose kid it is but as if James would legitimately give a fck?? He wouldn’t care if that little girl came out with straight black hair or wispy hazel curls- that’s his kid too!

And anyone who even insinuates otherwise will have instantaneously made a lifelong foe out of him. Whether it’s other four year olds in kindergarten who make childish proclamations that Maggi simply can’t have three dads because “it isn’t possible! kids have one dad and one mom!”

Though at the time she thinks they just have the wrong information because she has two moms and three dads who love her very dearly so it’s very possible actually.

—or adults at the school who sideeye the fck out of M/c on Parent-Teacher Conference Day because a different man shows up to pick up Maggi from school every other business day and the little girl always excitedly runs into their arms and calls each of the three men some variation of “daddy!”

James Potter who loves his teenage son dearly but whose daughter has him tied around her little finger so completely-

She can always bat her eyelashes and sweetly smile her way into getting extra servings of dessert without her mommies knowing. Or talk James into buying her whatever she wants with upturned eyebrows and an innocent pout.

James-“no one is even remotely good enough for my daughter, I would literally k!ll to ensure every hair on her hair remains untouched”-Potter

This man will go to war for her every👏single👏time, no matter the issue. Giving off the most intense “she asked for no pickles” energy anyone has ever witnessed.

Will wake the entire house up at 5am, while she peacefully sleeps in her bed, to begin prepping for her birthday. A multi-course breakfast, blown balloons and pre-presents presents for her to open after she eats.

Starts brainstorming and making plans for her next party an entire year in advance.

The type to always come home with some sort outfit for her that he saw while he was out and just had to buy.

“No, you don’t get it, honey! This one is different from the last dress- look at the little ruffled sleeves and collar! She’s gonna look so cute!”

To the point that Lily ends up confiscating his cards and only sends him out with enough cash to buy a meal, until he swears he’s learned his lesson. Though before he earns them back, he’d 100% try to talk Remus and Sirius into buying some items instead.

Daddy-Daughter day dates started as soon as she could hold her own head up, he’d attach her to his chest or back with a baby harness and go for walks or sit in a dog park

Jamie + both his kids days are a wholesome paradise on earth—

Ice cream parlor dates, with 1 year old Maggi buckled into her harness at James’ chest, babbling nonsensically to Harry while he points to the wide case of flavors- jokingly trying to decipher what kind she wants (though he and James just end up choosing for themselves and scooping off small sections for her to happily gnaw at from a sample spoon)

Or James taking the two to a parent-child pottery class “We’re Potter’s, Harry. It’s in our blood- maybe we’ll unlock a new talent!”

But James and Maggi’s vase for her mommies is starting to look a little demented

While Harry’s trinket bowl is proving that it doesn’t want to be a bowl exactly—

So they end up buying a few, simple handcrafted pieces made in-house by other class attendees, and passing them off as their own

Receiving a wave of impressed sounds of awe when they return home with their haul, the two Potter boys share a wink while Maggi bobs her head forward, slobbering onto her hands- the three now fully initiated partners in crime

#hp imagine #harry potter #harry potter headcanon #mafia au #the marauders #marauders era #poly!marauders #poly marauders #hp blurb #harry potter fluff #james potter fluff

[ridiasfangirlings]

Trans woman Yata and trans man Saru :3

I imagine the two of them becoming close in this AU because they’re both trans, like Yata wasn’t even sure about why she never felt like a man and Fushimi’s never had his gender identity confirmed by anyone. I imagine Yata being nervous around girls in this AU because it reminds her of her dysphoria issues that she’s trying very hard to ignore, like she acts super masculine because she’s trying to convince herself that she’s actually a guy and there’s nothing weird or different about her. Being near girls though reminds her of what she really wants to be and that makes her all nervous and worried, so she tends to run away from girls. When she first finds Fushimi in the boy’s bathroom she wonders why a girl like Fushimi is there, hushing the mental voice that says this isn’t a bathroom she should be in either, and Fushimi just sullenly replies with ‘I’m not a girl.’ Something about that makes Yata’s heart stir even more than just Fushimi getting revenge on the bullies, that this person maybe has feelings like Yata does but isn’t afraid to say them and isn’t hiding from them.

Yata gets used to always referring to Fushimi as a boy and obviously this is a big thing for Fushimi even though he won’t say so, his dad always mocks him by calling him a girl and if Kisa even knows Fushimi’s trans she was probably like ‘don’t say such stupid things’ and kept treating Fushimi like a girl. Yata understands though so she never thinks of Fushimi as anything but a boy, and eventually Yata’s even able to admit to Fushimi that she doesn’t really think she’s a guy. Imagine the two of them going to Fushimi’s house when they know no one will be home and they trade clothes, Yata getting to wear the girl’s school uniform (Fushimi teases Yata that it’s good she’s so short and Yata doesn’t even get mad, because in this AU she’s probably kinda thankful that the height makes her seem more like a girl) and Fushimi gets to wear the boy’s. Then they’ll like go out to the arcade or an amusement park or something, just walking around together and getting to finally feel like themselves for once.

When they join Homra everyone’s really accepting of them both, imagine Yata in particular becoming more confident in herself as a girl that she can also admit she’s kind of a tomboy and still prefers shorts to dresses or skirts (I could see this being something Yata had previously struggled with, like if she’s not girly can she really call herself a girl). However I imagine seeing Yata being more comfortable with herself stands in stark contrast with Fushimi, who becomes increasingly uncomfortable. Sure, Homra treats him like a guy, but Fushimi always has this feeling like people really think he’s some weak girl and that he can’t be trusted as much as Yata, that it’s just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Especially depending on how things are going medically, like Yata remains short and growing her hair out she’s still mistaken for a girl often even without treatment but imagine Fushimi is getting visible breasts and he just feels like this marks him out as someone different in a way that Yata isn’t, a way that’s just on his own (and maybe part of what’s so tempting about S4 is Munakata mentions that Fushimi can get hormone treatments to finally be more like the self he wants to be, and no one in S4 will ever know Fushimi as anything but a guy).

#sarumi #Talking K #trans headcanon #I feel like Yata would struggle with being trans but a tomboy #like if she's not girly enough is she really a girl #but Homra makes her feel like she belongs no matter what #while Fushimi has convinced himself that everyone sees him as a girl #(when really they just all see him as a pale skinny nerd)

[iwant-fuitgummi]

Kaeya Headcanons!!!!!!!!!! (FF = Found Family)

Kaeya Alberich-Ragnvindr

he/they/she

23

Genderflux, Demisexual, Demiromantic, Bi

In an unlabeled relationship with Huffman Schmidt

Family: Crepus Ragnvindr (Dad), Diluc Ragnvindr (Brother), Jean (FF Sister), Eula (FF Sister), Bennett (FF Brother), Klee (FF Sister), Collei (FF Sister)

Best Friend: Rosaria Nacht

Kaeya is genderflux. This basically means that they're genderfluid with fluctuating intensities. They feel masculine most of the time, but often feel like a girl, too. They paint their nails different colors to let people know what pronouns to use. Is this me projecting onto Kaeya? Maybe.

Kaeya loves wearing dresses. They make him feel beautiful. However, he also loves suits. It's always a challenge to pick out an outfit for special occasions. One constant in his outfits is the fluffy scarf.

Kaeya's right eye is partially blind. It has a burn scar over it from his fight with Diluc. He uses his eyepatch and his hair to cover it.

She has nerve damage in both of her hands and her left shoulder from severe burns.

Her left leg is a prosthetic, which she often switches out for a peg leg to play pirate with the kids of Mondstadt. It was amputated when Crepus first adopted her, as it was severely damaged.

Despite what most people believe, Kaeya is actually incredibly shy. Although he is beloved by many people in Mondstadt, he is very selective about the people he gets close to. This is due in part to his paranoia. There are few people who’ve given him any reason to trust him in the past, why should he start now? One of the few people he opened his heart to ended up dead, and the other almost killed him. 

Kaeya and Eula bond over their family issues. Kaeya sees her as a sister. They’re both considered untrustworthy by people in Mondstadt, so they support each other as much as they can.

Kaeya taught Bennett how to use his sword. They still meet up to spar sometimes, and Kaeya’s constantly giving him tips. It reminds Kaeya of sparring with Diluc when they were kids.

After Collei left Mondstadt, Kaeya felt incredibly guilty about the way they went about their investigation. They went to Sumeru with the traveler and apologized to her, explaining what happened. After a while, they became best friends and now see each other as siblings.

Kaeya has 3 big dogs: an Icelandic sheepdog named Sigrid, an Australian shepherd named Eira, and an Irish setter named Annika. He also has a cat, a Scottish fold named Fiske. The three dogs are girls, but Fiske is a boy. All of his pets live inside his house and, a lot of times, they sleep (or at least try to sleep) in his bed. He loves them too much to say no, even though they each have their own comfy beds. All of them were strays who were terrified of people until Kaeya came along.

Kaeya’s house is incredibly clean, despite the amount of pets he has. He's a very tidy person.

Kaeya is a great cook. She doesn’t often cook for herself, though. She's too busy with her work to bother. She makes home cooked meals for her pets more often than she does for herself.

It took forever for Kaeya to notice that Huffman was into them. But when they did notice, they began to realize just how much they liked him back. Kaeya doesn't fall first, but when they do, they fall hard.

Kaeya helps Mika train to use his vision.

Speaking of Mika, Kaeya uses his position as Captain to make Huffman and Mika spend time together and bond by bringing both of them on missions with him. He doesn't have a good relationship with his brother, but maybe he can save the Schmidts from that same fate.

Kaeya is often invited to other nations for diplomatic parties. This is due to his charm and charisma. He's invited to Fatui-run balls at the Zapolyarny Palace, where he gathers intel on the Harbingers without them noticing. He's just that chill.

They still send letters to Diluc occasionally, updating him on their life. They also send birdseed for his falcon.

#genshin impact #genshin #kaeya #kaeya alberich #kaeya headcanons #genshin headcanons #kaeya edit #genshin edits

[yellowharrington]

-- illicit affairs

pairing: steve harrington x afab!reader (she/her pronouns used)

warnings: smut. unprotected party sex, oral sex (m receiving), dislike of nancy wheeler, revenge sex.

word count: 3.1k+

a/n: i don't hate nancy, but someone has to be the scapegoat LMAO i hope u enjoy this ficcy <3

summary: you and nancy used to be friends, but you challenge yourself to take the one thing she can't get: steve harrington.

It had been a few years since you’d graduated Hawkins High, but like many others in the small town, you’d stuck around with no big plans. Some had left to prestigious colleges, or to faraway cities to explore. However, tonight, a lot of them seemed to be stuffed into Chrissy Cunningham’s exorbitant home, complete with a bright blue pool and balloons adorning the walls. It was her birthday, on a warm summer evening in mid July. She was wearing a short pink dress, standing outside by the pool with a drink in her hand. Behind her stood Nancy Wheeler, sipping on a cup of punch, wild eyes darting around the crowd as she gossiped with one of her friends. 

It wasn’t that you and Nancy were enemies, per se, but you’d competed for everything since you met. You never used to dislike her.

Since middle school, you and Nancy had had a lot of the same interests. Best friends, joining everything together. When she wanted to try cheerleading, so did you. When she joined math club for extra credit, you followed right after her. It wouldn’t have been so bad, if she hadn’t beaten you out of every single thing you’d tried all the way through to the end of senior year. 

Nancy made cheer team first, while you got cut first round. She was the math club’s top performer. She did dance, swimming, art… and she was great at them all. It was sickening.

However, the one thing you’d had was photography. The school’s yearbook club had one opening for senior year, for someone to take lead of the team and put together the ultimate book for Hawkin’s graduating class. It was the perfect opportunity for you, something to make your final year at Hawkins High special.

Until Nancy decided, the summer before, that she suddenly loved photography. And she was going for the lead. 

It was classic Nancy, to swoop in and decide that this was her “dream” without any experience. Her dad had bought her a fancy camera, much nicer than yours, and she’d spent the summer following whichever boyfriend of the month around and taking candid photos of him wherever she could.  

When Nancy had gotten the last spot on the yearbook team, you’d sworn off your friendship. One screaming fight in her bedroom that ended with you storming down the street with hot tears streaming down your face was enough to know things would never be the same. 

And there she was, at the same party as you. A few feet away, most likely gossiping about you to whatever random girl would listen to her whining. 

You’d taken to becoming friends with Eddie, spending a lot of the time playing D&D with him in your senior year, now mostly wasting the summer days with him relaxing and smoking in the sun. 

Eddie knew about your problems with Nancy, listening intently on the foot of your bed most nights, allowing you to air your grievances. But Eddie often had bad solutions to these issues, jokingly suggesting putting shaving cream in her locker or stealing her gym clothes.

“Look at her over there,” you snipped, sipping on a cup of punch that had way too much alcohol in it. “Who does she think she is?” You looked back at Eddie, who was confused. 

“She’s not even doing anything,” he said, almost under his breath. You punched him in the arm, suggesting that he’s missed the point entirely. “Ow.”

“She’s just so smug. Just people watching and judging everyone. Like, what the fuck?” You made brief eye contact with her, as a smirk played on her lips. She then whispered something to the girl she was speaking with, and they shared a giggle. She bid you a small sarcastic wave, before disappearing inside the house. 

“If you hate her so much, just fuck her boyfriend,” Eddie laughed, taking a long drag from the joint nestled between his two fingers. “Is she still seeing that Jonathan kid?”

You took the joint from Eddie’s fingers, putting it between your own lips. “He’s weird,” you laughed. “And I don’t think they’re dating anymore. She keeps trying to fuck Steve Harrington, even though they broke up years ago and had some crazy fight.”

Eddie laughed. “So go fuck him then.”

For once, Eddie was making sense, despite his glazed over eyes and drugged out disposition. “That’s an idea.”

“He wouldn’t say no,” Eddie shook his head. “Isn’t he here? Go find him, make a big spectacle of bringing him upstairs, and fuck his brains out. If I don’t hear you screaming his name, I’ll be disappointed.”

You took your bottom lip between your teeth, scanning the crowd for Steve. When you found him, you were pleasantly surprised. 

He’d cleaned up a lot since high school. He now kept his hair shorter, pushed back on his head and out of his face. Polo shirts and light blue jeans adorned his figure, outlining all the best parts. He was in the kitchen sipping the same bright red punch as you. 

“Alright, I’ll accept the challenge.” You gave Eddie back the joint, offering him a nod before making a beeline towards the inside of the house.

Steve was talking to an old classmate of his, not seeming super interested in the conversation. He was looking down into his cup, anxious to find something else to focus on. You approached rather slowly, catching Steve’s attention. You noticed his eyes rake in your figure slightly, pupils dilating and eyes widening.

His friend bid him goodbye with a small wave, disappearing back into the throngs of people dancing and drinking. 

“Hey,” you offered, awkwardly. “Hey!” His enthusiasm was rather confusing, but you weren’t complaining. This might be easier than you thought. 

“Been a while,” you lamented. “Whatcha been up to these days?”

“Not much,” he laughed, somewhat defeatedly. “Working a lot. Not going to college. The usual.” you nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, same here. Kinda feels weird being around all these people from high school and not doing any of the normal stuff.” He hummed, taking another small sip of the punch. His lips were stained red. 

“Who made this shit? It’s basically just vodka.” You giggled a little at that, a gentle high washing over you. There was a comfortable silence for a moment.

“You seeing anybody, King Steve?” You drew out the nickname, knowing he’d probably cringe. He did. 

“Not so much King Steve anymore,” he seemed a little hurt, judging by the unusually gentle tone of his voice, obviously insecure about his lack of action post-high school. “Haven’t been seeing anyone for a while now.”

You nodded, stepping a little closer to him. He still smelled like hair spray, but also like a woodsy cologne that fit him very well. 

“That’s too bad,” you grabbed the hem of his jacket, playing with it lightly. “I can’t imagine why, you’re still King Steve to me.” He swallowed thickly, suddenly becoming very aware of your presence. Your dress was short, perfume strong, the smell of weed and fruit on your breath. 

“Yeah?” His head dipped down, height almost meeting yours. “That’s nice of you to say.” 

“If you want, we can go upstairs to… talk a little more. Since it’s been so long. S’loud down here.” Your finger looped around his belt, his honey eyes meeting yours. “You know, if you’re into it.”

It was strangely easy to flirt with Steve, especially because it was so low stakes. Whatever happened, happened. 

“Yeah, I mean…” his voice seemed quiet against the music. “I’d be really into it.” 

A smile spread across your face as you took his cup and put it on the kitchen island. You wordlessly took his hand, pulling him through the crowd of people. Some seemed to take notice that Steve was going upstairs with you, others too drunk to care. 

The girl Nancy had been talking with earlier noticed as you and Steve padded up the stairs, passing by the other people having conversations.

The door to one of Chrissy’s guest bedrooms was left ajar, prompting you to push it open. The bed was made with fresh linens and throw pillows, a few cups strewn on the night stand and floor. Some people stood outside, not caring too much that you pulled Steve inside and closed the door. 

You left the lights dimmed, as Steve sat on the end of the bed. His hands spread across his knees, looking a bit awkward. You sat next to him, your thigh touching his, skin against denim. 

The air in the room was thick with tension, both of you knowing what was going to happen. “So, it’s been a while,” you laughed, letting your body lean on his. “No Heidi L, or Tammy, or Sarah? No Nancy anymore?”

He was breathing heavily, as you put your hand on his and relocated it to the soft skin of your bare thigh. “Not my type anymore,” he let out a small laugh. “Not into them.”

You opened your legs slightly, letting your hand lay atop his. “What’s your type then, Steve?” Your faces were coming closer together now, as you were almost whispering on his lips. “Am I your type?”

You felt him shudder, before pushing himself forward to press your lips together. He answered by taking his hand and sliding up the side of your face, deepening his kiss and letting his body roll against yours slightly. 

Steve was needy, and it was unfortunately very obvious that it’d been a while since he’d gotten laid. The bulge in his jeans was growing rapidly as he pawed at your breasts over your dress, his tongue wet against the inside of your mouth. He was playing dirty, not that you particularly minded, given the show you were planning on putting on for him. 

When he finally laid you down on the bed, he was red-cheeked and out of breath from kissing you. He had pouty pink lips, slick and puffed from kissing, as his body hovered over you. You looked up at him through thick lashes, smirking and pulling the collar of his shirt down to force your lips to meet again. 

His hand pushed the hem of your dress up, prompting him to help you pull it over your head. Your tits were exposed to the cool air conditioned room, as he pulled off his own shirt and discarded it to the ground.

Steve was pretty in the way boys generally were; deep cut jawlines and little soft tummies, spots of stubble under the chin and freckles peppered across shoulders. He had milky pale skin, calloused hands and a strong grip as he slipped you over to be on top. All bravado, ego, sex and wholesomeness rolled into one. 

Your legs came around his waist as you rutted down on his denim, enjoying the feeling of the rough fabric over your thin underwear. You couldn’t lie - you were enjoying yourself more than you’d expected to, because Steve knew his way around a good make-out session. 

His large hands ran up along your back, your mouths struggling to maintain the integrity of your kisses. They were becoming sloppy, tongue against tongue, breath against breath.

“Can I fuck you?” Steve asked, softly against your mouth. Normally it wouldn’t have been enough foreplay for you, but that wasn’t the point. You just wanted to do this, see the look on Nancy’s face when you left the bedroom together, and probably avoid Steve Harrington for the rest of your life.

“Yeah,” you were breathless, taking a minute to look into his eyes. He looked needy, desperate, and you mentally prepared yourself for a moment. 

You positioned yourself on top of him after he took his jeans off, letting his hard cock press up against your underwear. 

“You wanna fuck me, Steve?” You asked, slightly louder than he was expecting. He looked a little red, embarrassed, before nodding in response. 

You grabbed at him, pressing his cock into you slowly. You sunk down on him, letting a long, loud moan fall from your lips. You knew people could hear, and given you weren’t secretive about hiding your little rendezvous, you were hoping a few people would start talking about what was going on. 

“Oh, Steve! Fuck me!” You screamed, exaggeratedly. He looked slightly confused, but you were rutting down on him so well, he could barely get a word out. 

You started to bounce on him, skin slapping against skin, the moans he was eliciting out of you becoming louder and louder. You could hear the shuffle of feet outside the door as you rode him vigorously, letting your body take over as his name rolled off your tongue effortlessly. 

“Hey,” he finally said, with a swift slap to your ass. You stopped, allowing his full length to bury itself inside you as he bottomed out.

“Stop faking it,” his voice was earnest, but stern. It was dark and you were taken by surprise at his slightly dominating energy.

“I know how to make you come, alright? Don’t try that with me,” You took a deep breath in, feeling embarrassed, and going red in the face. “I know what I’m doing.”

You swallowed thickly, letting the awkwardness fade. 

“Keep riding me,” he instructed, manually moving your hips with his hands. You began to grind against him, focusing instead on the feeling instead of putting on a show. 

“Sorry,” you said quietly, sheepishly. 

“It’s ok,” his voice was soft again. “I wanna make you feel good. Let me make you feel good.”

You nodded wordlessly, leaning down to capture his lips with yours. His tongue ran across the seam of your lips, as you deepened the kiss and let him take over.

His hips began to roll against yours, allowing you to grind your clit on his pelvic bone and create friction there. 

“Steve,” you breathed out softly onto his lips, letting yourself get lost in the moment. He nodded, going a little faster, picking up the pace to match with your body’s natural rhythm. His breaths were getting heavier, his eyes locking into yours, pupils blown with arousal.

“I wanna make you come, are you close?” He asked so softly, yet so domineering, it almost made you release right then and there. 

All you could manage to do was nod, feeling the knot of tension in your stomach begin to unravel. 

You began to clench around him, watching as he kept his pace perfectly. “Oh, fuck, Steve,” you let out softly, for real this time. Truly unravelled, breaking apart in front of him. 

“I know you like this,” he whispered, dirty and deep in your ear. His lips were hot. “You like how everyone can hear us, huh?”

Your orgasm suddenly washed over you, letting out moans into his mouth. He nodded, pieces of hair flopping over into his eyes. He tugged lightly at your hair, exposing your throat and planting sloppy kisses there. He sucked a small hickey just below your ear, a secret between the two of you. 

“Sound so pretty,” he kissed your earlobe as you came down, his cock still buried deep inside of you as his thrusts slowed. 

“Lemme finish you off,” you smiled devilishly, pulling your body off of his and placing yourself between his legs. He glistened with your juices, as you took the head of his cock into your mouth and began to work the tip. 

He let out a long breath, screwing his eyes shut. His hand came down to interlace his fingers with yours, while your other hand wrapped around him.

Your tongue worked along the shaft as spit coated his hard length, speeding up as whiny moans started to fall from his pink lips. 

He looked down at you, as you looked back up at him under thick lashes. When his eyes met yours, you felt his cock twitch in your hand as his warm cum spurted on your tongue, cock thrusted into your throat.

You swallowed him down, continuing to suck the head until he was far too sensitive, his hand lightly pulling his spent cock from your puffed lips. He slapped the tip on your tongue a few times, before you sat up to wipe the side of your mouth, then sitting up on the edge of the bed. 

He ran a hand through his hair awkwardly, sitting up at the edge of the bed with you. Your hair had become messy, the hickeys he’d left starting to turn from red to purple, mascara smudging under your eyes. 

Your eyes met his as he caught his breath, forcing himself to be quiet as you watched under the door as people dispersed. Obviously, some people had been very interested in what you and Steve were doing. 

“Do you think they heard us?” He laughed, pushing a hand through his hair and out of his face. When he turned to look at you, you couldn’t help but stifle a laugh and bump your forehead into his bare shoulder. 

“Maybe a little.” He got up to grab his clothes from the floor, throwing you your dress and underwear that had been discarded earlier. “You live up to the reputation, y’know.”

He seems a bit startled. “I don’t have a reputation,” he laughed, while a blush fell over his cheeks. “Just rumours from high school.”

“Now you’re trying to bullshit me.” You laughed, stepping back into your dress. “You know what people say.” 

He smiled, the most sincere half smile he could muster. “Thanks.”

You were both fully dressed now, standing across from each other. 

“Thanks for, uh, finishing me off like that…” he said awkwardly, scratching at the nape of his neck. “None of my exes ever swallowed.”

You couldn’t help but feel proud of yourself as you stifled a small laugh, kissing his cheek before stepping away from the door. “You first.”

He gave you a small wave before slipping out of the door, meeting a small group that had obviously been listening in.

You exited the room a few minutes later, hoping time had allowed Steve to slip back into the crowd before your departure. 

When you left the room, a few prying eyes watched as you pulled down your dress and walked down the stairs. The party was still in full swing, it wasn’t as if everyone was looking at you, but a few prying eyes were following you as they whispered to other friends over their drinks.

Nancy stood near the bottom of the stairs, her eyes wide when they met yours. She looked angry, red in the face, embarrassed at the few laughs that she was earning.

When you passed her on your way out, you wiped the back of your hand dramatically, still feeling Steve’s slick on the corner of your mouth. 

She opened her mouth to make a snide comment, before you put your finger up to stop her in her tracks. 

“I won.”

#steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x afab!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagine #steve harrington imagine #stranger things smut #steve harrington smut #stranger things

[volantium]

when the light is sweet & heavy 

a small halloween fic for @sheps-shepherd ily 🎃🧡 | read it here on ao3

The season turns into October, when the light is sweet and heavy. Orange leaves are carried to their final resting along the breeze. It is the month for resurrection, to cast off the year as it approaches winter, to begin anew without consequence. Without fail, Harley finds himself dreading the possibility of it all over again.

Harley’s never really been one for Halloween.

Mainly, cause, well, his father walked out on them close enough to the day that Harley always thought it was some elaborate trick or treat thing, a horror movie with a happy ending where he would come back with the world’s fill of candy with him just to see his kids smile. But he never came back, and Harley took Abby down to the square cause Ma worked thirteen, fourteen hours to make ends meet in the aftermath.

They were young, that first year, and each year since has been an exercise in not thinking too hard about where his dad is now. If he has other kids he’s taking out trick or treating, while Harley’s left to trail along behind Abby in her homemade fairy costume, the only one looking after his kid sister in a town where Halloween is a family affair.

Rose Hill is small. Small enough that all the neighbours know about the Keener kids, small enough to whisper behind their hands whenever they spy Harley and Abby, for reasons even Harley doesn’t understand anymore.

He thought it would’ve got old by now.

At least school calmed down. Probably helped that Harley has anger issues and a protective streak a mile long and been in detention more times than he can count. Harley’s calmed down a little, too, after Tony Stark crash landed into his life and decided he’d pay for this random kid’s therapy.

Abby’s on the edge of fourteen now, young enough to still want to dress up and go out but old enough to insist she can absolutely go by herself. And when little Miss Annabelle Keener wants something, by God is she going to get it. Normally. This year, Peter makes all the difference. She absolutely cannot wait to drag Peter around the town, and Harley tries not to let his guilt show.

Harley’s still not really sure how they swung it. Peter should be in New York at some party and Harley should be alone to trail behind Abby as she goes door to door. Instead, they’re here, together in Rose Hill—a rarity in itself that Harley’s stopped looking the proverbial gift horse in the mouth. Peter’s only been here for a day and a half, and yet his presence is enough to soothe something in Harley’s soul. But it is Halloween, and Harley’s never been able to fully shake the shroud that falls around him each and every October.

Harley begs Peter’s forgiveness, one night, when they’re curled up together in Harley’s single bed. It’s far, far too small for the both of them. Harley’s pushing six foot two and Peter’s got too many pointy elbows and knees for them to be truly comfortable. But they make do, with Harley plastered against the wall and Peter tucked into his side, playing with Harley’s fingers in the cool fall night.

It’s not overly late. The sky is still a hazy, faded blue twilight out the window. Dinner is cooking, slowly in the oven. Harley wishes he could spend his whole life in this moment. He’s so rarely content in this house anymore.

Harley doesn’t know what makes him say it. Maybe it’s the way he’s noticed Peter watching him, when he thinks Harley isn’t aware, or it’s the way there’s only Halloween decorations around where Abby is most throughout the house. Maybe it’s just Peter and the fact that Harley’s never been so singularly understood by another human being before.

“I’m not—I’m not dressing up for Halloween,” he says, voice catching over the admission.

Peter’s fingers still, twined gently with Harley’s. Peter blinks up at him, brown eyes warm as caramel. Harley knows he’s ruining the moment. Can feel the slowly built peace of the evening crumble around him like sand. Peter is so excited for Halloween, bouncing-off-the-walls-only-beaten-by-Abby kind of excited. But something sits just below Harley’s breastbone, pushed tight into the very curve of him that’s ready to snap.

“You wanna tell me why?”

Harley shrugs, as much as one can when laying sideways. “You know the shape of it,” he says, because Harley’s made too many self-deprecating jokes about his absent father that Peter doesn’t not know the general story. “Dad left around this time of year. It’s always been... Difficult, I guess.”

Peter hums in the back of his throat, a sound that Harley’s come to recognise as Peter’s way of just letting him talk, of letting Harley feel out his own thoughts aloud. He tells Peter the immediate reaction–his mom’s, Abby’s, his. That first Halloween, when Harley sat by the door all day waiting for his dad to appear. That night, taking Abby out, because she was too young to know any better, walking behind her with his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, waiting patiently at the end of every driveway. Even as young as she was, Abby shared her precious haul with her brother, has done so each year, and it’s one of the few things that makes Harley smile in October. Runs roughshod over everything since that first Halloween, the way Ma disappeared for a while, the way the town seemed to make a mystery out of the Keeners, or what was left of them. How it’s all tangled up in the knot in his chest and in the parts of him that make him Harley, and how he doesn’t think he’ll even get dressed up for Halloween ever again.

He sighs, heavily, at the end of it, the story told.

“It’s just not something I do,” Harley finishes, lamely, suddenly self-conscious.  

Peter doesn’t say anything for several minutes, which doesn’t help Harley’s growing anxiety. Harley opens his mouth, probably to make a fool out of himself, but before he can speak Peter’s hand is untangled from his and is cupping his cheek, Peter’s fingers sliding into the wheat-blonde hair around Harley’s ear.

Peter kisses him, then, soft and gentle, easily, like he doesn’t even realise that Harley’s world stops revolving every time. Harley sighs into it, draws the moment out, curls his own hand into the fabric of Peter’s collar, just to hold him there.

When they pull apart, Harley taps his forefinger against Peter’s collarbone, an absent-minded tick, settled by the warmth of his boyfriend’s skin.

“Darlin’?”

“Yeah?”

“I haven’t ruined your Halloween, have I? I’m sorry.”

“Of course not,” Peter replies, instantly, much to Harley’s relief. “The fact we get to spend Halloween together means the world to me. The how doesn’t matter. There’s nothing to apologise for, baby.”

“Okay,” Harley’s voice is unsteady even to his own ears, as if he can’t quite believe his luck.

“Hey,” Peter says, just as low, just as carefully. “I’m so proud of you. And it’s okay that you’re not going to wear a costume.”

Harley presses his own kiss to the centre of Peter’s forward. “Thanks, darlin’,”

“I guess that ruins MJ’s idea of us going as the Scooby gang, though,” Peter muses, eyes flickering over Harley’s face. “You’d make a good Daphne.”

“Oh, shut up,” Harley says without any heat, smiling.

They lay there in comfortable silence, until they eventually have to get up and finish making dinner. They’re halfway down the stairs when Peter breaks the quiet.

“Well, you know what, I’m still wearing my suit,” Peter declares. “I think it’s hilarious.”

Which leads them to now, a day later; Peter, pulling on his old pyjama-looking Spider-Man suit. It looks like it hasn’t seen the light of day in several years, which probably makes it look more like a costume than anything practical or used by a superhero, which is rather the point.

“Tony will have your ass if he finds out you’re wearing that,” Harley points out.

“You better not tell him, then, Keener,” he shoots back. “Besides, there’s going to be a million other kids dressed up as me, it won’t even matter.”

Harley huffs a laugh, more at the fact that Peter thinks there’ll be a million other kids in Rose Hill (population approximately one thousand, four hundred and seventy-three) than that there’ll be kids dressed up as Spider-Man. Harley’s sure they’ll see some. Maybe like one, or two.

Harley rolls his eyes, voice skeptical. “Right.”

Harley shoves on a beanie and his tattered denim jacket, and follows Peter out to the porch steps, where they find Abby patiently waiting, pillowcase in hand.  

She’s dressed up as a zombie pirate this year, in a fashionable array of paraphernalia that Harley has no idea where she got from. Probably the school drama department.

“Finally!” She exclaims at the sight of them, jumping up. “We’re losing daylight people, let’s go, we need to get to the Johnson’s before all the good stuff is gone.”

“Who are the Johnson’s?” Peter asks.

“They’re—” Harley begins, only to be cut off by Abby.

“Walk and talk, come on!”

“Oh my God, okay,” Harley says instead, grabbing his keys and herding his sister out the gate, Peter bringing up the rear. “The Johnson’s are Rose Hill’s premier Halloween connoisseurs,” he throws over his shoulder, putting on a stuffy accent.

“And they have the best candy,” Abby chimes in.

“And they have the best candy,” Harley confirms.

It’s not a long walk, about twenty minutes until they start hitting the houses all bunched together near the town centre. Abby points her plastic sword in the vague direction of the Johnson’s, and sets out with a very determined bounce to her step.

Harley falls back to watch Abby point out each house they pass to Peter, the ones they’re all going to visit on the way back home. The old man who only has gumballs each and every year. The couple who pretends they aren’t home but have always sent Abby on her way with chocolate when she knocks. The street is teaming, vampires and witches and one Frankenstein running back and forth between the houses.

The Johnson’s place sits right on the corner, prime real estate, and also the busiest house by far. Their front yard is full of skeletons and tombstones, a witches brew full of candy by the front door. The miracle of the Johnson’s place is that it’s a free for all—the Johnson’s themselves are probably elsewhere with their brood.

“Wow,” Peter says, taking in the house, the fake cobwebs that cover the roof, the red lights in the weeping tree that make it look covered in blood, the giant carved pumpkins that frame the doorway.

“Yeah,” Harley replies. “It’s like this every year.”

Abby takes off, nearly diving headfirst into the giant cauldron of candy to get at the best bits. The Johnsons always have Warheads, which is what Abby’s truly after.

Peter watches her go. “She really likes Halloween, huh?”

“She really likes the sugar rush.”

Peter snorts, and then wades in after her. Harley watches as Peter’s marginally longer arms are utilised to their full effect as Abby makes him reach down to the very bottom, hand emerging with at least ten packets of Warheads.

Harley waits at the end of the driveway, like always, hands in his pockets. It’s not that he hates Halloween itself. He used to love it, too, before everything. But now it’s just an unnecessary reminder of all the other happy families in this God forsaken backwater.

Peter returns to his side, passing a Snickers bar to him. “They really do have good candy.”

Harley agrees, unwrapping it to take a bite.

“Where’s Abby?” He asks around the mouthful of chocolate.

“I think she ran into her friends,” Peter says, and points over to where their zombie pirate girl is, standing with a clown with a knife through her head and a fairy princess.

Harley nods, about to tell Peter which is who when a voice behind them calls, "Harley!" and turns to see PTA mom Miriam Johnson in the flesh.

Before Harley can say anything, Peter slaps a hand across his chest. Harley looks down at said hand, then to Peter, down again, back to Peter.

“Babe, what—”

Peter shushes him. “Look.”

Besides Miriam is her son, Zac, dressed up as Spider-Man.

There’s a beat of silence, where Harley watches his boyfriend go wide-eyed. For all of Peter’s confidence about the suit earlier, Harley knows there’s a part of him that is worried. Worried that wearing the suit would make him stand out, so far from New York. Halloween is about being somebody else, and here’s Peter, with his secret identity on display, without even the mask to hide behind.

Harley knows Peter still melts at the sight of little kids looking up to Spider-Man, too. One day he’s going to convince Peter to see himself the way the rest of the world does, the way Harley does.

“I know, Pete,” he murmurs, low enough that Miriam nor Zac can hear him, as mother and son come to stand in front of them.

Zac points at Peter; Peter points at Zac; Harley can’t help himself and completes the triangle in perfect meme mimicry. Zac’s only like, eight, but he’s a funny kid. Harley used to dog walk for the Johnson’s before he started working at the mechanics.

The three of them laugh, and then Peter’s dropping into a crouch in front of Zac.

“Hey, there,” Peter says, holding out his hand. “I’m Peter.”

Zac looks at Harley, then up to his mom. Miriam gives his shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“Go on, kid,” Harley says. “He doesn’t bite.”

Peter flashes a look over at Harley, but then Zac shakes his hand with childlike enthusiasm, “I’m Spider-Man!”

“Me too, buddy,” Peter says with a private smile. “You out here keeping Rose Hill safe?”

“Yep! And I have candy!”

Peter fishes a piece out of his own pillowcase, one he stole off Harley’s bed, drops it into Zac’s outstretched hand. “Here you go, Spider-Man.”

“What do you say, Zac?” Miriam says.

“Thanks, Peter!”

Peter stands back up next to Harley. “You’re welcome.”

“Hi, Mrs Johnson,” Harley says, polite to a fault. “You guys having fun?”

“Yes, Harley, thank you,” Miriam says, kindly. “Who’s your friend?”

It’s not that Harley particularly cares what Miriam Johnson thinks, or the rest of Rose Hill for that matter, but there’s a moment of stomach swooping anxiety, so far ingrained into him by growing up in the Bible Belt. But it’s Peter who answers, unaware of Harley having a low-grade panic attack next to him.

“I’m Peter,” with hand out again in repetition. “Harley’s boyfriend.”

Miriam’s eyes flicker back to Harley, in that way only straight white women do when they suddenly find out someone they never imagined would be is queer. The butterflies in Harley’s stomach settle when all she does is shake Peter’s hand.

“Oh!” She exclaims, and the butterflies kick back up again. “I didn’t know Harley was dating anyone, Macy didn’t even tell me.”

Harley knows with utter certainty that his relationship status will be common knowledge within the next couple of days, but in that moment, he’s never loved his mother more.

Harley shrugs when Miriam looks at him, as if he owes her some explanation.

Peter laughs, awkwardly, recovers quickly enough to ask, “How do you know Macy?”

“We went to school together,” Miriam answers, which is typical for almost the entire population of Rose Hill at one point or another. “Where are you from, Peter, you don’t sound like you’re from here?”

“He’s from New York,” Harley chimes in. “A regular ol’ city slicker.”

“Isn’t that where your Spider-Man is from, Zac, darling?”

Zac nods his head, several times, looking at Peter with a newfound sense of awe. Peter shoots a poorly concealed look of panic Harley’s way.

“Zac,” Harley calls, grabbing the kid’s attention. “Peter’s even met him, once or twice.”

“No way.”

“Yes way,” Harley replies. “Haven’t you, Pete?”

“Uh—sure, yeah, I have,” is Peter’s fumbled response. “He’s really—cool.”

Harley smothers a laugh. 

“Whoa," says Zac, bright and wide-eyed. 

“Isn’t that exciting!” Miriam says, utterly oblivious. 

Peter stands there like a stick in the mud, and Harley’s left to wrap things up.

“Anyways, we better go find Abby before she takes your whole stock of Warheads,” Harley says.

“I made sure there was extra just for her,” Miriam says, smiling at Harley. “Tell your mother I said hello, Harley.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“And it was nice meeting you, Peter.”

Peter gives her a hundred-watt grin. “Likewise, Mrs Johnson.”

Zac waves in their direction as he and his mom walk off. Peter turns to him with that grin still on his face.

“What did I tell you, Harl?” Peter says, as they head back into the fray to find Harley’s sister. “I’m not the only one dressed up as Spider-Man.”

“Tony’s still going to kill you, man,” Harley replies, but there’s a smile creeping over his own face in light of Peter’s delight.

They find Abby conspiring with her knife-clown and fairy princess friend, swapping sweets in the orange light of the carved pumpkin.

“Abby,” Harley calls, grabbing her attention. “You want to go to some of the other houses?”

“Can Lucy and Cam come, too?”

Harley nods. “As long as their parents are fine with it.”

“We already asked,” knife-clown pipes in. “They’re cool.”

They trek out of the Johnson’s yard and back into the street. The sun is starting to disappear below the horizon, gilding the red leaves with gold. Harley and Peter walk ahead of the girls, hand in hand. They can hear the girls talking, can hear Abby explain who Peter is with a ‘and they’re holding hands! gross!’ Peter and him snicker together, and their kiss is greeted with a chorus of bleughhhhh behind them.

It’s the first Halloween in a long time Harley remembers being happy.

The girls and Peter go from house to house while Harley meanders along, thinking about how this year everything is different but not really at all. The melancholy’s still there, lingering perpetually underneath the surface, haunting him like a ghost. But waiting at the end of the driveway for his sister and his boyfriend seems easier this year, compared to the past.

They get honeycomb candy from the couple who pretends they aren’t home, run into Abby’s (and Harley’s) old teacher dressed as a witch, somehow manage to shove too many gumballs into already teaming pillowcases. Knife-clown and fairy princess shout their goodbyes at the end of the last street they walk down, hours after they found each other at the Johnsons. Dusk has given way to dark night across Rose Hill, and even Harley’s starting to feel it.

Abby breaks first, plopping herself down on the side of the road. “I’m tired.”

Her overly large pirate hat is slipping down across her face. She yawns big and wide.

“C’mon, bug,” Harley says, dropping down into a crouch, his back facing Abby. “Let’s go home.”

“Okay,” Abby says, not even putting up a fight, and hands off her sack of candy to Peter. 

Abby clambers into the piggyback half asleep, her arms loose around Harley’s shoulders. Harley stands, carefully, hitching her into place for their walk home.

“Hey, Harley?” Abby whispers, voice quiet but still loud enough for Peter to hear. “I had a lot of fun this year.”

He hums in acknowledgement.

“You should keep him,” she says, and Harley doesn’t have to ask who.

“I’m planning on it, bug,” he whispers back, catching a glimpse of Peter’s small smile from the corner of his eye.

“Oh,” Abby’s head comes to rest against Harley’s shoulder, her voice sleepy. “That’s good.”

They’re back on their own street, the house down the very end. The light on the porch is visible even from this distance, glowing sepia yellow in the night.

“Bug?” Peter murmurs, after a while, looking at Abby, fast asleep.

Harley glances at his boyfriend. “She went through a period right after Dad left when she refused to answer to Abby or Annabelle, not even to Ma. Bug was the only thing that worked, and even then, it was only me who could use it to any effect.”

Peter nods, once, and Harley knows he’s slipping that thread of the story into the elaborate tapestry that makes up the Keener siblings. Neither of them point out how it’s only Peter who’s allowed to use Harl.

“I’m glad she had fun,” Harley says, some small admission that isn’t lost on Peter.

“Did you?” Peter asks. “Have fun, I mean?”

Harley takes a moment to really think about it. He leans over, presses a kiss to Peter’s cheek.

“Yeah, darlin’, I did.”

October passes between one breath and the next.

Peter smiles at him, as warm as the sun.

#parkner #parley #harley keener #peter parker #drabble #p: parkner #u: mcu