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#I just want to be normal and my feelings to be normal but no I’m like
hoe4sports · 1 day
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Double trouble
Alexia Putellas x reader
Summary: Your twins needs new cleats and alexia learns about the increase in cost of living.
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Dinner was soon to be ready, just in time to eat before your twin girls had football practice. They were both on the Barcelona u15’s team, and somehow both of them had a talent. “Mamma!” Your eldest daughter yelled from the down stairs laundry room causing you to mentally sight. She was the messier of the twins; she would probably lose her head if it wasn’t stuck to her body. “Si, mi amor” you said as you walked into the laundry room. “Mamma, they don’t fit anymore!” She cried as she threw the cleat towards the corner of the room. “Que? The new one? The pair you got a few months ago, si?” You said as you touched her back to comfort her. “Si, mamma..” she said as she frowned. The girls were definitely in a growth spurt. “Let’s see, Hermosa” you said as you opened up the laces of the shoes and bent down to help her try it on. “AUCH, my toe! It hurts mamma!” She protested as you got the shoe on. “Wiggle your toes” you commanded as she sighted and wiggled her toes. It was clear as day, she needed new cleats again. “Alright, Mami is gonna be home any minute now. Let’s all eat and then go to pick up some new ones, si? It’s important that they make you feel comfortable. Go grab your sister and help me set the table, por favor” you said as you stood up and reached your hand out for her to grab. The blonde got up while leaning on to your hand and skipped upstairs to get her sister. The twins were spitting image of Alexia, expect they had icy blue eyes from the donor. You had originally wanted to have kids in two rounds; one with your egg and one with alexia’s egg. However, a pair of twins ended the plan quickly as they were more than enough for the two of you.
Just as you got to the kitchen, Alexia entered the house. “Hola amor” Alexia sang as she walked into the kitchen. “Smells amazing” she said as she hugged you from behind kissing your neck. “Spinach pasta” you said as you leaned into her smiling. You loved your little family, it was everything you had ever dreamed of. The twins bounced down the stairs together and walked into the kitchen. “Mami!” Elena yelled as she hugged alexia. The twins and alexia started setting the table, and you put the pasta in a serving bowl. Alexia grabbed sparkling water and you all sat down at the kitchen table in your designated chairs. “How was school, girls?” Alexia said as she slurped in a spaghetti. “It was bien! I sat with Andrea in class, she’s so nice. Maybe she can sleep over sometime? I also got my test back, I got a B, but I studied really hard” Camila rambled as you all kept on eating. Camila was the more talkative of the girls, often leading the conversation. After a quick chat about her new friend and her good grades, the other twin spoke up. “Mamma, do we have Bandaids? Or tape?” She said as she shoved her pasta around on her plate. “Si, why? Are you hurt?” You asked as you got a worried grin. “No! No, I’m not hurt. My cleats are just tight and it’s tugging in my heel.” She said as she looked up carefully. Alexia’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped. “Already?? Didn’t you ge-“ you smacked her arm. If looks could kill, she would be a dead woman. “Honey, it’s normal. You are growing everyday besides, we are already going to stop by the sports store to grab your sister a new pair so why not see if you find something you like too?” You said as you took a sip of water. Her eyes lit up as she smiled and nodded rapidly. Dinner went on, and you were soon on your way to the store.
“Alright preciousas, here we are” alexia said as she pulled your Lexus suv up in the parking lot of the sports store. The girls quickly hopped out and practically sprinted towards the store in their workout gear. You grabbed alexia’s hand as you walked in and was met by a mountain of cleats. “Oh my” you mumbled as your eyes widened. Having two girls in football wasn’t cheap, especially not when they were starting to work towards playing professionally while both being on the national team. It meant twice the travel expenses,, kits, jerseys, clothes and a shit ton of sports tape. “Mami! I like the pink ones” Camila squealed as she grabbed Alexia’s arm and pulled her towards a bright pair of Nike. Elena was more hesitant and grabbed your hand as you walked around. “What color do you like? Is there a specific brand you want?” You asked softly as her eyes scanned the wall. “I like pink” she said as she looked over at her sister that was busy trying on cleats. “The same as that your sister is trying on, si?” You asked as you walked towards her and alexia. Elena nodded and held close to you. After a few trials and errors both girls had found a pair of bright pink Nike; the same pair to be fair. It wasn’t really a problem, you just needed to mark the inside of the shoe. Not that it would be a problem as Elena was more of a left striker while Camila was a right striker. At the register, a young woman scanned the boxes and tapped the register. The girls each grabbed the box and immediately disposed the boxes in the trash as they went to the bench in the doorway to put their new cleats on. “And that will be, 559.99 euros m’am” the woman spoke as Alexia was pulling out her wallet. “!?” Alexia said in disbelief. “559.99” the woman repeated as she smiled. “Cash or card?” Alexia stood dumbfounded and looked at the register. “Ai, card” she said as she rubbed her neck. I giggled behind her as this was usually something I would take care of in terms of shopping and her being happy to pay down the credit card every month.
As we walked out the store, the rain has started pouring so Alexia unlocked the car as the girls sprinted towards it t avoid getting soaked. We drove the 5 mins to the arena and said our goodbye’s to the girls before entering the designated room for parents to watch. Alexia grabbed us both coffees on the way into the room, and sat down beside me to watch the girls. Me and one of the other mothers were talking about how crazy the cost of living had become and how groceries had become a huge expense. “Have you even seen the price of eggs! It’s insane, and my daughter eats like a horse.” the woman next to me exclaimed. “Think eggs are expensive? Try having one egg fertilised and it splitting into two.” I said as the whole room giggled while Alexia chocked on her coffee dramatically. “It was your egg Putellas, so you are to blame” I whispered as I winked.
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st7rnioioss · 1 day
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౨ৎ⋆ ˚。⋆ 3 times chris recorded you waking up, 1 time nick recorded both you and chris
chris sturniolo x reader
warnings: fluff, kissing, swearing, intentional lowercase, not proofread
a/n: heeello lovely peopleeeee. idk i got really tired but then this idea popped into my head so i just started writing my fingers off.
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1 ࿔*:・
chris couldn’t contain his laughter, trying to giggle as silently as he pressed record on his phone. on his screen, you were in the spotlight, laying on your side as you peacefully slept, which was about to be interrupted by chris and his new obsession: recording you sleeping.
“y/n. y/n, wake up!” chris whispered, shaking your shoulder with one hand, watching you stir around in bed with a groan.
you hugged your pillow a bit tighter, turning your back on chris in an attempt to make him stop shaking your shoulder. chris couldn’t stop giggling, both because he found this stupid as fuck, but also because you looked so adorable to him.
“y/n, it’s time to get up. say hi to the vlog,” chris joked, obviously not planning on sharing this with anyone but you and himself, motioning the camera closer to your face. “what? chris, fuck off,” you groan, keeping your eyes closed but eyebrows furrowed in annoyance.
he kept shaking your shoulder, basically pressing his phone up in your face as you opened your eyes slowly.
“there she is, say hi to youtube!” chris laughed, now a little louder due to you being awake. or atleast, a little awake. “go to hell!” you mumble, pushing his phone away with one hand, letting a tiny smile tug at your lips.
chris picked his phone up, placing it on the nightstand as he slumped on top of you.
“ow, what the fuck. chris, i’m sleeping and you’re heavy,” you trailed off, trying to push chris off your back. “no. i’m comfortable,” chris protested, wrapping his arms around your waist as he got even more comfortable on your back, pressing soft kisses against your back.
little did chris know, the video was still going, capturing the.. ‘conversation’ you were having.
2 ࿔*:・
"y/n! wake up, immediately!" chris whisper-yelled, patting your head with one hand, the other holding his phone.
you were cuddled up in your shared bed, sprawled out on the huge mattress. a few teddies chris had gotten you over the years were also thrown around the bed. you opened one eye, seeing chris in front of you with faux-concern plastered on his face, which you couldn't tell from your tired state.
within a few seconds, your head shot up in pure terror. "what? what is it?" you mumbles, growing concerned. chris's tone was different from normal, so you were ready for any sort of horrific thing to have happened to something or someone.
chris then burst into laughter, now realizing he was holding his phone out, directing it at your face.
"chris! this isn't funny, i thought someone was hurt! fuck you, i was having the best dream of my life!" you groaned, plopping down onto your pillow as chris continued to laugh.
he then stopped, feeling bad for pissing you off.
"no, no! i'm sorry, baby. i was just fooling around," chris tried to hide his laughter, shutting his phone off as he laid down beside you in bed.
"i hate you," you mumbled back with a grin, pressing an angry-loving kiss to his forehead, before turning back around to continue your sleep.
"did you save the video, though?"
3 ࿔*:・
chris had seen a specific video on tiktok that he wanted to try out with you: puckering his lips in front of you while you're asleep, in attempt to get your immediate reaction.
he was having way too much fun with this. slowly, he made his way out of bed so he could face you, sitting on his knees on the floor to record you and his face on the edge of the bed.
with a giggle, he leaned in to pucker his lips, making sure to tap your shoulder a few times to wake you. at first, nothing happened, but as he tapped your shoulder again, you opened your eyes groggily to find chris’s lips puckered right in front of your eyes.
almost as an instinct, you reached out to cup his cheeks with both of your hands, kissing his lips passionately, before pulling away with a dazed smile.
chris simply couldn’t keep still, he was way too giddy because he has captured that moment on video.
“oh my god, you’re such a goof,” he laughed, his cheeks burning a reddish color as he stopped the video to lean forward, making you open your eyes again as you felt him kneel on the bed right on top of you.
“what..?” you whispered, but before you got an answer, chris was attacking you with kisses again. on your forehead, lips, cheeks, neck, nose even.
he didn’t seem to want to pull away, firmly grabbing your jaw with one hand, the other grabbing your cheek, as the kiss gradually got more heated.
“i’m not having morning sex with you today. goodbye, kind sir,” you giggled, now fully awake as you turned your body away from him, forgetting he was on top of you.
“uh, no?” chris scoffed with a grin, leaning down to kiss you again.
the rest is.. history. but chris kept that video, and oh boy, how many times he would rewatch it.
1 time nick recorded you ࿔*:・
you were currently spending the weekend at a hotel in texas with the triplets. they were going to spend the next few days filming a video with sam and colby, and chris had begged you to go with them, because apparently he needed you to hold his hands while they filmed the spooky content in a haunted hotel.
both you and chris were fast asleep in your shared bed, matt still sleeping in the one a little further in the hotel room.
nick though, was awake, and recently he had grown more familiar with chris’s fun and games, so he decided it would be funny to tease the both of you a little.
“y/n. chris. do you want a sip?” nick asked, waving a bottle of lemonade in front of your heads, recording you and chris in bed.
chris was spooning you, arms wrapped around your waist as you slept. during the night he always found ways to pull you closer, even though you weren’t sure that was possible.
“do you want a sip or not?” nick kept going, hiding his laughter as you both started shifting around. 
eventually, chris opened his eyes to see what was going on, still too tired to process anything.
chris’s shifting from behind made you more conscious, opening your eyes to see a bottle of lemonade in front of you, a camera facing you just a few inches behind it.
“hm?” you hum, closing one of your eyes due to the light. “do you want a sip?” nick giggled, still waving the bottle in front of you as he shoved the camera up your faces.
“of what, nick?” chris asked, annoyance evident in his voice, being able to tell even from your very tired state. “it’s like, a lemonade,” nick whispered, dangling the bottle in front of face, nearly hitting your nose.
“are you fucking stupid?” chris grumbles, pulling you in a little tighter, grabbing the cover to pull it up to your noses. immediately, you closed your eyes again, turning around so you were facing chris’s chest.
“you guys are so boring, what the fuck.” nick rolled his eyes, still recording the both of you as you flipped him off, signaling to leave you alone to sleep.
nick decided to add that video to the weekly friday photodump. a few weeks later, your entire for you page was filled with edits, comments, clips, of you and chris. you didn’t really expect it because you had practically forgotten about it since you were so tired when all of it went down.
chris seemed to enjoy it thoroughly.
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a/n: hello again🌝 this is rlly rushed, sorry😞
overall, i’m sorry for the inactivity. i’ve been to meetings, school is taking up all my time, plus exams are on their way. so so sorry!!!💞💞
taglist: @chrissgirlsstuff @leah-loves-lillies @toriinie @cupidzsq @lacysturniolo @iluvmattyb @ratatioulle @emma4eva @riasturns @sstvrnioloo @sweetbabydoe @elliewrites1 @its-jennarose @abbypost @chrisstopherfilmed @sturniolossss @ducksturniolo @junnniiieee07 @klaus223492 @urfavvev3lyn @vschrissturn @cicimayx @keerahsturn @sturniolololover @domaniquessidehoe @sturniolossss @orangelala @sturnioloslvtt@gwenloremain@k-l-a-w-s @pearlzier @pjmpcyy @mbsbaby
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deathbecomesthem · 2 days
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linecook!Eddie Munson x server!reader | 1K
*not proofread, just thrown together and offered into the Tumblr void.
You’ve come to look forward to the slow days. Even with less bills lining your pocket, you still walk out of the diner with a smile on your face. The slow days are when you get to talk to Eddie. He sits with you at the counter and rolls silverware with you - one roll of his for every three of yours. Your hands move automatically, no need to watch the flashing of knives, forks, and spoons. Eddie’s eyes stay on the napkin as he works. And you watch him.
“...that racoon really had it out for me. I had no idea they could hold a grudge like that.” Eddie’s telling a story, he tells a lot of stories. You missed the first part of it, hypnotized by the way his lips form words. He didn’t shave this morning, you can see short bristles above his lip and know exactly how it would feel to run your finger along them.
“I’m sorry,” you put your hand up, halting his speech, “rewind. I zoned out. Start over.”
Eddie laughs, and you take note of the way his smile cuts into his cheeks. You could curl up in those lines, take a nap in his dimples. “I can’t believe you’d disrespect Frank the Racoon like that. Be careful, or you’ll end up on his shit list too.”
“Well, tell me. What did you do to Frank? It must have been bad if he’s got a vendetta against you.” Eddie looks up at you, and you dart your eyes to the silverware tray between the two of you as if you had not been staring at him for the last several minutes. 
“I didn’t do anything. Not on purpose. Frank is unreasonable, he always has been.” Eddie sighs, and resumes his slow and purposeful work. He picks up a knife, sets it on the napkin in front of him, and then a fork, and then a spoon. You risk a look up at him and find his eyes cast down on the set in front of him. “Frank’s been hanging around outside my place for a while now. I couldn’t sleep on night about 6 months ago and found him eating the cat food I leave on the porch-”
“You leave cat food on your porch? Do you have a cat?” You break in, desperate to know if he has a feline pal. He’s never talked about one.
“What? No, I don’t have a cat, per se. There are cats that hang around my place, and I feed them. Kermit, Jonesy, Mint, and Jelly - but we’re talking about Frank right now.” Eddie looks up and points a spoon at your face to emphasize his point. You tilt your head in acceptance, and he continues, “Anyway, so I’ve been feeding the cats salmon flavored Whiskas for years now. I’ve never heard any complaints, and Frank was obviously enjoying it too. About 4 weeks ago, the Kroger on Harris stopped carrying it.”
At this point, you’re really listening with interest. You want to know how this story can end with a racoon plotting Eddie’s demise. You reach into the tray to grab a fork, and Eddie’s hand goes for one at the same time. A rare brush of fingers has you pulling your hand away from his as if you’ve been burned. 
“Sorry,” an automatic apology stumbles from your lips. A stupid thing to be sorry over, because Eddie doesn’t even seem to register that small touch, “please go on.”
“Well, I had to start buying the chicken flavored Whiskas. It took me a couple of days to realize the food wasn’t going as fast as it normally does. One morning, on my way to the van, I saw him. Frank was sitting just in the shadows with his little hands held together. I wasn’t watching where I was walking, looking at the way his eyes kind of flickered at me. It was kind of creepy, he looked downright menacing. Just as I made it to the van door, my foot kind of skidded.”
Eddie’s stopped rolling silverware completely. He’s talking with his hands, motioning to show the way his foot slipped. His eyes are wide, as if disbelieving his own story.
“Ok, your foot slipped. What’s that got to do with good ole Frank?” you ask, diverting Eddie’s attention back to you.
“That son of a bitch shit right outside of my van door. And I know what you’re thinking, ‘Eddie, you can’t prove it was the racoon’,” Eddie’s fully mimicking your voice in a rather unflattering way, offering an argument you did, in fact, start churning in your mind, “but that little fucker laughed. Well, it was a squeaky sound that I assume is a raccoon laugh.” Eddie waves his hand as if to shoo the idea of it away, “I know it was him. And I know it was because he doesn’t like the chicken Whiskas.”
“You know? Hmm. Ok, sure. I accept your version of events. Have you tried apologizing?”
“Oh, I apologized. I even started driving to the other side of town to get the salmon Whiskas after 6 straight days of raccoon shit waiting for me outside the van’s door. I even started parking it in a new spot, but there it was - more shit.” 
“Oh, I’d like to meet Frank, he seems tenacious,” you say absently, not thinking about what meeting Eddie’s raccoon friend would entail, “and the cats. I love cats, but my landlord won’t allow them.”
“Well, you should come over and meet them. All of them. Don’t worry, I flea treat the cats once a month, and I had them all fixed.” 
Eddie’s invitation is something that’s never been done before. He has invited you to do something with him outside of work. You open your mouth to respond, you have no idea what will come out, when the bell at the front door jingles.
It’s the first customer you’ve seen in 2 hours, and Eddie’s gone back to the kitchen before you have a chance to realize the invitation was never accepted. It just hangs there, over the silverware tray.
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draconic-desire · 23 hours
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hiiiii ive been brainrotting abt sunday and his triple face god thing abababah thinking abt him handcuffing reader and interrogating them with the truth thing he does to aventurine ARGHH omg questioning abt who they were with cos hes jealousssss AUGH you dont have to write anything off of this i just hope this inspires you ily
oh you have read my MIND. I’m currently in the middle of writing a fic with dr ratio interrogating reader like he did with mx. stellaron…but now imagining that with sunday?? wow.
i’m totally normal about this man. i swear.
Yan!Sunday x Gn!Reader
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Fingers drum on the table, the only break in the suffocating silence engulfing the room.
“I’ll ask you one. Last. Time.” Sunday punctuates each word with another tap of his finger, and you gasp as you feel the Harmony sink its influence another inch further into your skull.
Despite the futility, despite knowing you’ve been trying the same thing over and over again for the past half an hour, you pull at your restraints. The metal chain of the handcuffs skitters along the table, the sound like nails on a chalkboard, but it does not budge from its steel attachment. You’re firmly and inescapably chained to the table in Sunday’s office, with said perpetrator sitting opposite.
He appears calm, but you’ve learned to notice the slight twitch of his eye, the falter in his normal smirk. His patience is one wrong answer away from shattering.
At your silence, he leans back in his chair, shaking his head. His golden gaze is chastising, almost disappointed. “Angel, you know I don’t want to hurt you. Just tell me who you were with.”
You only glare at him in response. Bullshit. You’ve lost count of the amount of times he’s forced truths out of you or affections upon you through the Harmony. The psychedelic pest in your brain is almost the norm by now, a poison he has slowly been feeding you.
Oh, Triple Faced-Soul, please sear their tongue and palms with a hot iron, so that they will not be able to fabricate lies and make false vows.
Those words are branded into the flesh of your brain, your soul. And tonight, if you tell him what he wants, even more blood will be spilled.
Sunday’s jealously is as calculating as he is. It’s a knife poised at the right angle to spear you, to pin you with accusations that you can’t talk your way out of.
Like in this instance, where he has deluded himself into thinking you are trying to leave him. He’s finally let you out of Dewlight Pavilion (you’ve learned that trying to escape the dreamscape is pointless, so you’ll take your freedoms when you can), and this is the first reaction you’re met with? Being dragged to his office as soon as you returned and invaded, prodded, and violated by the Harmony?
The pressure around your temples tightens another fraction, and you cannot stop the pained cry that escapes you. Rainbow streaks cloud your vision and practically pull the words from your mouth. “I was with friends! We were at the Dreamjolt Hosterly for a couple drinks, that’s it!”
Sunday merely hums as he stands and pads towards you, taking a position at your back. You’re unable to turn around to face him, but you can feel the weight of his presence, the promise of his power, as he wraps a hand around the back of your neck.
His breath tickles the shell of your ear as he leans in and whispers, “Liar.”
One word chills your blood to ice. “I’m not!”
The grip around your neck tightens in tandem with the pressure in your head. “Do you really think you can evade me, (Y/n)? My gales are perched in every region of Penacony, and THEY are by my side. THEY see all, hear all, know all.”
As if on cue, the Harmony rips through your consciousness, and it takes all your willpower not to pass out. Exhausted, you involuntarily lean back into Sunday’s hand, which seems to please him. “Now, tell me the name of the man who dared to touch what is mine.”
Clenching your eyes shut, you shake your head. You’re out of breath and stumbling along your words. “He was just being friendly, and he was drunk, we all were, and all he did was kiss my cheek; it was a dare, and I swear to you, Sunday, we’re just friends—”
“(Y/n),” Sunday interrupts. “His name.”
The finality in the Family head’s words sends your heart plummeting. You feel your resolve slip as the Harmony tightens its grip and goes in for the kill. You speak the name aloud, barely a whisper, and know that you’ve just delivered the man’s fate.
In your half-conscious state, you barely register Sunday removing your cuffs and scooping you into his arms. He tucks you into his chest bridal-style, his wings fluttering across your face. “You did well, my angel.”
“Please,” you breathe, your voice wobbly with tears, even as you feel the Harmony retreat from your senses—for now. “Don’t hurt him.”
Sunday merely leans his head down to place a kiss along your temple. “Enough of that,” he scolds. “The only man you should be thinking about is me. After all, it is an angel’s duty to obey their god without question.”
And Sunday is, if anything, a vengeful god.
For that night was the last that you ever saw your friend. Death in dreams was your only reality.
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trashart00 · 1 day
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Less than 12 hours until the release of “The Tortured Poets Department”!
Hence, I present to you, “The Tortured Catboy Department”
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Track List:
SIDE A: Deux Semaines (feat Ladybug) / The Tortured Catboy Department / My Lady Abandons Only Her Favourite Partners / Down Bad
SIDE B: So Long, London / But Daddy I Love Her / Fresh Out the Slammer / Akuma !!! (feat Monarch)
SIDE C: Guilty As Sin? / Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me / Even Ladybug Can’t Fix This / loml
SIDE D: I Can Do It With a Broken Heart / The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived / The Cataclysm / Adrien Agreste
Bonus Tracks: The Black Cat / Solitude / Doppelgänger / Tell-Tail Heart
(Love how so many of the original track names still work)
My takes of what each song is about/inspired by under cut (but, if you feel like it, tell me yours :D)
I’m picturing all of these to be from Adrien’s perspective so they reflect mostly his version of the situations rather than the objective reality (especially the Laybug centered ones)
Deux Semaines (feat Ladybug): This one would focus on the sequence in Multiplication where Monarch doesn’t attack and how LadyNoir’s relationship recovers from the events of Season 4.
TTCD: Kept the “Catboy” singular because while there are multiple Catboy identities, there is only one boy underneath them all. Hence while I think it would be about him just stating his issues with everything, it would also focus on loneliness and how his department is understaffed :(
MLAOHFP: All of the Season 4 LadyNoir separation arc angst, with the “Favourite” being a callback to Risk (and kinda a jab at Rena because he thinks that she’s really her favourite, but y’ know, she didn’t abandon her so Rena can’t be her actual favourite)
Down Bad: Mainly about how Chat’s love for LB makes him excuse her behaviors, but also makes him act out (maybe a reference to Elation).
SL,L: About the whole arc of Gabriel sending Adrien to London and all of the memories he would have surrounding this ordeal - key point, not “So Long, Paris” because he didn’t want to leave, and in the end he comes back to a changed world.
BDILH: This one’s either about the Chat Blanc breakup or Gabriel’s dislike of Marinette in Season 5 (or both, with maybe a line about how he feels like this has happened before)
FOTS: Adrien realizing his father is a Bad Person.
Akuma !!! (feat Monarch): This one would be like a song about his daily life and then the chorus would start with a shout of “Akuma!!!” and it would switch to him as Chat Noir. I feel like it would start out with normal life being boring/hero life being fun but as it goes on he grows exhausted. Monarch has a rap verse.
Guilty As Sin?: Chat Blanc centeric - would ask who is to blame for the destruction of the world, like is it Chat because he lost control or Hawkmoth because he took advantage of his son’s emotion?
WAoLOM: Chat Blanc centric at first (like a villain song) but ends with Adrien reflecting on the events of Evolution-Destruction-Multiplication-PS night
ELCFT: I think it would be about his relaction ship with his father and how he wishes there was something he could do to go back to how they were when Emilie was alive but there’s no easy fix and his father keeps on getting worse and worse after any attempt.
loml: A song for Marinette with a bittersweet air - she’s the love of his life but he can’t tell her everything, and she can’t tell him everything either
ICDIWaBH: CatWalker centric - him going back to Ladybug in Kuroneko.
TSMWEL: I actually have three for this one - 1. About Gabriel and his need to domineer because he feels small and powerless. 2. About Adrien feeling small and insignificant. 3.About Plagg because he’s a smol boi (it would be like a lighthearted, cheeky song, like when you sing to your pet about how adorable they are)
The Cataclysm: Literally about how he cataclysmed Monarch, but also about how the event impacted his perception of self.
Adrien Agreste: Ending the album with a song that’s his own name :o.
Now for the variants:
The Black Cat: This one has Chat on the cover and the song is mostly about his bad luck. ‘I Love You It’s Ruining My Life” works both directed at Ladybug and his father.
Solitude: With Chat Blanc on the cover, this one’s about his mother. I think the “You Don’t Get To Tell Me About Sad” is pretty self-explanatory.
Doppelgänger: CatWalker is on this one, his song would be about how he may literally be the same person but he doesn’t fully feel like himself. He had to repress a lot of himself to be CatWalker hence I thought “Am I Allowed To Cry?” fit him really well (especially with Plagg not giving him the time to fully recover before he had to jump back in). Please note the crossed out name (unlike Chat Blanc) because he’s reinventing himself.
Tell-Tail Heart: This one has Ladybug on the cover - wait she’s not a Catboy?? The song is titled “Tell-Tail Heart” as a reference to Edgar Allan Poe’s “Tell Tale Heart” and would explore Chat’s perspective of Ladybug’s guilt for keeping secrets, how any excuse she makes is ultimately unimportant because she would do it either way. The fact that this is the only song title with a pun references how Chat tries to lighten the mood and avoid serious conversations, and the “Tail” is supposed to refer to Rena Rouge. The flowers she’s holding are meant to be foxgloves which symbolise secrets and insincerity (they’re also poisonous and damage the heart :)). I also really liked the “Old Habits Die Screaming” for her as it could mean both Chat Noir’s love for her being an old habit that he cannot get rid of, but also her habit of keeping things from him (especially with how she does it again at the end of season 5) being something she can’t stop. It is also him being able to see that, despite what she tells him, her “Heart” is tells him otherwise.
(also would like to point out that he wouldn’t mention Rena by name, he’s upset, not evil)
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macfrog · 2 days
Note
hi queenie, love of my life 😌 i’d like to ask the following for 🩵: d’you think there was ever a moment where joel really thought holy shit. she drives me insane… i gotta fuck her. ???
(rly hoping there was 😌)
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ily, sister! thanks for the gif. feeling really. normal. about him. right now. oh, yeah. he had his moments. let's get into it.
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compensation 1.1k words | duckie's baby shower 🩵 warnings: literally just joel masturbating to the thought of his neighbor. good shit.
she can’t have been older than twenty-five, when she moved in.
hell, she’s not even thirty yet, as it is. she’s too fucking –
you’re too fucking young for him, and that’s the end of that.
at least – that’s what joel’s telling himself, trapped on your front porch. watching you relive the story of the ups driver who almost wouldn't let you sign for his package.
doing his best to keep his eyes on yours, and not the thin tank top you’re wearing.
“…she’s like, how do i know you’re gonna get this to him? i’m like, uh, what the fuck do i want with my boring ass neighbor’s mail? no offense, joel. but c’mon. i’m literally signing for it. anyways.”
you turn, bending down for the box by the stairs, and joel drags his eyes upwards.
his hand shakes at his side. jaw ticks, watching you turn back, the package leaning against your front. your breasts – oh, jesus.
he swallows. his throat feels like carpet burn.
“’s heavy,” you mutter, edging towards him. “rock collecting?”
“mind your business,” joel clips, slipping his hands around the box. the back of his wrists brush against the swell of your breasts, and he stares so intensely at his own address on the label that he hopes it’s burned forever into his vision.
you huff as the weight passes into his hands. a little sigh.
something twitches beneath his belt buckle.
joel sits the box on his hip. “well, thanks for this. and for calling me boring.”
you cross your arms. it only pushes your tits up more. “stay humble, old man.”
he should walk away. right now. he should take his package, and his pride, and the fucking rock in his jeans – and head on home.
but then you slump against the doorpost, one ankle crossing over the other, and say, “s’posed to get pretty hot this summer.”
“’s already pretty hot.”
“hotter, jackass. they’re sayin’ record temperatures.”
“they say that every year.”
you poke at the inside of your cheek with your tongue. the way you always do, when you’re trying to annoy him.
and it’s working.
“actually, uh –” joel shifts between feet, “– i was gonna ask you a favor.”
“mhm?”
his gaze trickles down your figure. each curve and swell of supple skin. the shorts he’s getting a little too used to seeing you in, too used to looking for. your bare legs, and the glow of sun on them.
when he looks back up, you’re smirking at him.
christ, he wants to wipe that smirk clean off your face. wants to twist it into something darker, something…something louder, and filthier, and –
“joel. hellooo?”
you wave your hand in front of his face, and he snaps back.
“huh? oh, shit. sorry – i, uh…” a flush rises like an inferno up his neck. he shakes his head, fighting it off. “yeah. a favor.”
“you good? don’t pass out on my porch,” you warn. “wait until you’re back on your own land to do that.”
he breathes a laugh – panting, almost. “i’m good. i just – i need someone to water my, uh – my plants. i’m outta town next week, visitin’ my brother. if you wouldn’t mind…”
he feels like a fucking moron when he finally meets your eye again.
you blink back at him, frowning. head tipped, looking him up and down. “i don’t mind,” you say, something cautious in your voice, “but i expect generous compensation for my time.”
“compensation,” joel agrees, nodding. he’d do anything to be off this goddamn porch right now. “how about i’ll owe you one?”
“works for me.”
“alright. thank you, again,” he holds the package up, “and, uh – i’ll see ya.”
he’s gone before he hears your response.
too young. she’s too young. you’re so young. goddamn it.
you drive him fucking insane. you and your little shorts, the simper on your face. he swears he could see through the white of your top, two perfect circles where –
oh, fuck.
he spills into his bathroom, a heavy hand slamming down on the valve. the water roars from the showerhead, louder than the blood in his ears.
joel hauls his tee over his shoulders, the fabric peeling from his muscles and crumpling in a damp pile on the floor. he shucks the rest of his clothes off, kicking them to the side, and steps straight into the cubicle.
he looks down, and – fucking hell.
his cock sways between his legs, all rosy and already dripping. he can feel his pulse hammering at his tip; hisses when the stream sprays over it.
his hand lifts, curving around air.
shit, he just wants to touch himself. wants to relieve the ache between his hips. he has to.
he balls his fists against the tiled wall. his head drops low between his shoulders. the water pours down over him, pastes his dark hair in soaking flicks around his face. he can taste the salt of sweat and sun as it slips from his skin.
once. if he only did it once, would it matter? he’s hard now, anyways. there’s a quick fix.
you just – you caught him off-guard. he only went over there to pick up a package. he didn’t fucking know you’d be – oh, christ – he didn’t know you’d be in that shirt. no bra, no nothing beneath it.
he can still feel the plush of your tits on his knuckles. the way they moved as you leant against the doorframe. he can still see the summery shine on your skin.
he thinks about slipping his hands under the hem of your tank. up, up, up, across your smooth skin until he’s cupping them. squeezing them; circling his thumbs over the hardening peaks.
the short breaths from your lips, your smirk melted into a delicate o-shape. voiceless, nothing but whimpering and gasping when his teeth take your nipple.
before he even realizes it – he’s stroking his cock.
and quickly.
he groans, lips turning to his bicep. he bites down on the skin, hard.
he’d slip your shorts down your hips; see whatever slutty little panties you wear. he’d pull your thighs over his shoulders, unfold your sweet cunt and –
“shit,” joel pants, hips stuttering. his fingers splay out on the slippery tile.
you’re so infuriating. loudmouthed and fucking bratty. and he could shut you up, he knows he could. he’d sit you on his cock, wrapped perfectly around him, and fuck you dumb. fuck you until you’re nothing but a sobbing, soaking mess.
fuck you with that scrap of a tank top on. tits bouncing beneath it, the fabric riding higher and higher until they’re exposed.
what a good fuckin’ girl, taking all of him. letting him split you open, letting him fuck you raw. so big he’ll leave an ache deep inside you; so hard that he makes you come three times over before he’s even close.
but – fuck, he’s close, right now.
“c’mon, baby,” he mutters into his skin. teeth gritted; fist so tight the skin threatens to split across his knuckles. “make me come, c’mon.”
it’d dribble from your cunt, and he’d push it straight back in. make damn sure you keep it all in there, make damn sure you’re walking around all full of him. the seam of your thighs slick, semen seeping into your panties.
“goddamn,” he groans, and with a throb, coats the shower wall.
his cock twitches, pulses until he’s empty. the ache begins to thaw.
he shuts the shower off, still massaging his softening dick as he steps back out. he lifts a towel and drags it across his tingling body.
and he swears, when he notices the sun dipping below your roof –
it will never happen again.
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rainybubbles · 1 day
Text
How do you meet COD Men ? - AU civilian
Soap, Ghost, Gaz, Price, König, Rudy, Alex, Nikolai
(Sorry in advance for my mistakes, English is not my mother tongue. So sorry if it's badly written, mid or if they're OOC)
SOAP as a firefighter : 
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-"911, how can I assist you today?"
-"I think there's been a break-in at my place!"
-"Could you describe the intruder, ma'am?"
-"It's... a turkey."
-"A turkey?"
-"Yeah, one of those gobbling birds! My neighbors use a live one for their Thanksgiving, and it somehow busted loose. It barged into my place through the door, gave me a real fright. I dashed into my bathroom, but it went all 'Rambo' on my door, and now it's busted. My handle is broken, I'm stuck in here!"
-"Don't worry, help is on the way."
-And that's when you met Soap. There he was, showing up at your doorstep in full firefighter gear.
-"Hey there ?" he greeted, axe in hand, ready to face off against the rogue turkey.
-You weren’t kidding, he thought.
-He couldn't believe his eyes when he saw the havoc that bird had wreaked in your place.
-Your poor sofa was toast, and your table was in pieces. Slowly, he made his way to the damaged door.
-"Hey there, Ah’m a firefighter. I’m here tae break down the door. Please step back."
-"Oh thanks ! I was starting to think I'd be spending the night bawling in my bathtub."
-He chuckled.
-"Wouldnae want a lovely person like yerself spendin’ Thanksgiving solo."
-"Thanks," you replied.
-"I'll get started," Soap said as he began dismantling the door.
-"Here, it looks like the turkey's gone," he reported.
-But when he turned to you, he noticed something amiss.
- Normally, people were relieved to see him, not scared out of their wits.
-His gaze shifted back, and that's when he saw it—the monstrous turkey, ready to pounce.
-Without a second thought, he scooped you up, effortlessly carrying you despite whatever size or weight you were, and bolted past the bird.
-"Why's that thing so fast?" he exclaimed.
-"They're practically dinosaurs, I swear!" you cried from the safety of his arms.
-You both made it to the street. Soap dialed up a wildlife specialist to handle the feathery menace.
-"Ah’l swearin’ off turkey forever," he vowed.
-"I think finding a new place to live might be a good idea," you whispered, still trying to calm your nerves.
-"Aye, yer neighbors are some real characters for pullin’ a stunt like this."
-"Thanks again for this. I mean, I'm sure you've got more pressing cases."
-"No’ really. Usually, it's just family squabbles. Last time, Ah had a grandma tryin’ tae kill her son wi’ mashed potatoes," he joked.
-"Grandma can get wild," you chuckled.
-"Ye have no idea. Name's John, by the way. Sorry for forgettin’ ma manners."
-"Hey, a wild turkey trying to take me out can do that to a person," you quipped. "I'm Y/n," you added.
-He grinned.
-“I owe you big time, Soap," you said, finally stepping out of the bathroom. "Guess this Thanksgiving, I'll be giving thanks for firefighters and sturdy bathtubs."
-Soap gave you a reassuring smile. "Hey, it's all in a day's work. Plus, -it's not every day I get to play hero to a person in distress... from a turkey."
-After the turkey trouble was sorted, Soap bid his farewell. Little did he know, two days later, your new neighbor would be attempting to cook aluminum in his microwave. Maybe this time he'd find a moment to ask for your number.
-------
GHOST as a chef : 
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-The poor waitress had asked you twice if you wanted to order by the time your date arrived. But it was painfully obvious. 
-You had been stood up.
 -You tried to ignore the looks, the sensation of your clothes feeling too tight, too constricting. You felt like a clown.
-Staring at your phone, you sent messages, hoping for excuses like traffic or an important matter.
-Maybe he had a flat tire, or perhaps his boss demanded he stay late. Yet, two hours later, you were still there, feeling like a fool.
-That's when the message came: "Oh, I was just joking, you're not my type, you know."
-Tears welled in your eyes as you felt the humiliation wash over you.
-How could someone flirt for two months just as a joke? He messaged you every night; how were you supposed to know it was all a farce?
-Biting your lip, you stood up.
-At this hour, you hoped there were still buses running.
-You couldn't afford an Uber. Yet, as you gathered your things, the waitress approached.
-"Excuse me, but your food will arrive."
-"I... I'm sorry, but I can't... I can't afford anything here, and my date stood me up. He was supposed to pay, and..." you rambled, feeling ashamed, but she led you back to your seat.
-You felt even more ashamed. This place was so luxurious.
-"I really can't afford it, madam," you whispered.
-"It's on the house. The chef offered it," she said gently.
-"Oh."
-You didn't know if you felt grateful or not. It felt like pity, but food from a Michelin-starred restaurant was still a luxury, so you ate. It was unbelievably good. You felt so thankful to the chef.
-"I... could I thank him?" you asked after finishing your dinner.
-"He doesn't speak to clients. That's why he opened his own restaurant — so he could remain unseen by his patrons and not be obligated to accept their thanks, As he says “I Ghost clients”" the waitress explained.
-"I see. His dishes are so precise, it's impressive."
-"Yeah, he's good with a knife."
-"Well, thanks again for offering me this. It was a crappy night, but at least I ended up in heaven," you said.
-She smiled, and you left.
-But you felt indebted to him. Dishes like that cost a lot.
- Even if you didn't doubt he could afford it, you felt like you had to do something in return.
-So the next night, you baked cookies.
-You felt ridiculous with your small Tupperware and homemade cookies.
-They'd probably taste awful to him, you thought, but you wanted to repay him.
-"Hi, I... wanted to give this to Ghost? He offered me dishes last time, and I wanted to thank him. I understand if you say no. I mean, it could have poison in it, but..." you rambled to the waiter.
-"No need, we'll take it," the waiter with a mohawk said with a smile.
-You felt like he knew something you didn't. As you were about to leave, a tall, blond man walked over, holding a cookie.
-"Thanks," he said with a gruff voice behind his mask.
-Shit. Ghost was... this man?
-This mountain of muscles made those beautiful dishes? Those meticulous details came from his hands? You were impressed.
-"Do you like it?" you asked, unsure.
-"Best cookies I've tasted."
-"I know you're lying."
-"Second," he admitted. "My ma's were better."
-You chuckled.
-"I can give you the recipe. I mean, you really saved me last night. It was so... humiliating."
-"It's not. The only one who should feel ashamed is the bloke who stood you up, love."
-"You're right, but still."
-"Come back again, Friday. With the recipe."
-"I can send it by email."
-"I want you to taste a new dish."
-"Oh."
-"Having someone honest is nice. It's a change from all the compliments."
-"Okay," you agreed.
-Little did you know, Simon would always find new dishes to make you come back.
-Of course, he could ask his sous-chefs or waiters to taste, but seeing your smile or frown after a taste was so much better.
-(I need a long fic about Simon being a chef, like this AU has so much potential, plus in kitchen you have “brigade” which could be like 141)
GAZ as a primary school teacher : 
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-You were on your usual delivery route, this time dropping off packages at the primary school.
-As you made your way through the corridors, you spotted Gaz, the primary teacher, who greeted you with a smile.
-"I was waiting for you," Gaz said cheerfully.
-"Oh, am I right on time?" you responded, glancing at your phone in confusion.
-"Yes, but the kids are eager," Gaz explained.
-You furrowed your eyebrows. Eager for what? Seeing a delivery person? Or perhaps the contents of your package were something special, like paintings or other intriguing items?
-"I see," you said, still puzzled.
-"Follow me," Gaz instructed, leading you into his classroom before you could protest.
-As you entered, you were met with the curious gaze of twenty pairs of eyes.
-It dawned on you as you glanced at a piece of paper – Gaz had mistaken you for the guest speaker, an athlete scheduled to address the students.
-"Sir, I think there's been a mistake," you whispered to Gaz, but before you could say more, a child wrapped their arms around you.
-"I'm so glad you're here!" the child exclaimed, melting your resolve. How could you shatter their excitement?
-You couldn’t bear to crush their excitement. Besides, it was clear that the athlete wasn’t going to show up; it was already 10 AM, and they were supposed to be there by 8AM according to the schedule on the board.
-And so, you found yourself spinning tales to answer their questions, pretending to be the athlete they expected. 
-“Um, hey there ! Being an athlete is pretty cool, you know” you improvised, trying to sound convincing.
-“How does it feel to do sports all day ?” one curious kid asked
-“Well it’s tough but you know riding horse is fun”
-“I thought you were running”
-“RUNNING ! Of course, horse is just a hobby” you blurted out
-Despite your fibs, the kids beamed with admiration, hanging onto your every word.
-After a couple of hours, Gaz approached you with a knowing smile.
-"You're not the athlete, are you?" he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.
-"How did you figure it out?" you replied sheepishly.
-"When you mentioned unicorns helping your coach – that was a dead giveaway," Gaz chuckled. "But I appreciate you playing along."
-"I couldn’t bear to disappoint the kids. Kids' dreams are important," you admitted, feeling a twinge of guilt.
-"Yeah, they are," Gaz agreed. "Thanks for going along with it."
-"It was more fun than my usual deliveries, anyway," you admitted with a grin.
-“Wait, your boss won’t be mad ?! I mean two hours, sorry you must be so late, no ?”he said worried
-“Don’t worry you were my last”
-As you prepared to leave, Gaz introduced himself properly.
-"Thanks against or helping out. And by the way 'm Kyle, but the kids call me Gaz – it's easier for them," he explained.
-"It was nice meeting you, Gaz," you said sincerely, touched by his kindness towards the children.
-As you left the school, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of warmth and contentment. And to your surprise, when you made your next delivery, there was Gaz, offering to lend a hand. 
-"Thought you might need some help this time," he said with a wink.
-Maybe it was repayment for your earlier assistance, or perhaps the kids had teased him about having a crush on you – either way, you were grateful for his company.
PRICE as an uni history teacher :
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-It was about 10 PM, and there you were, sprinting in high heels, your wig dangling precariously.
-"Oh, for the love of all that’s good," you muttered under your breath.
-The situation was straightforward, yet utterly absurd.
- You, a university teacher, found yourself at a costume party with a Bridgerton theme.
- After hastily getting ready at your friend’s place, it dawned on you that you had forgotten your house key.
-Sure, crashing at your friend's was an option, but you had a furry friend waiting at home who needed your attention.
-So, off you went, driving back to the only place your keys could be: the teacher's offices at the university.
- Picture this: you, clad in an 18th-century outfit, a fake wig teetering on your head, and a petticoat swishing around, all the while cursing your luck and hoping no students would spot you.
-Finally, you reached the office, finding it deserted. You located your keys and—
-"Quite the accurate ensemble, I must say."
-You froze, turning to find a man with a rather impressive beard. "Um, I can explain?"
-"Are you a student?" he asked.
-"No need to butter me up; I know I don't exactly look like one," you confessed.
-He chuckled. "Sorry, I was just trying to give you an out. You know, student parties and whatnot."
-"Thanks, but yeah, I'm the… new teacher. Guess we haven't crossed paths yet. Been here about a month," you said, extending your hand.
-"Well, isn't this a fortunate coincidence?" he remarked.
-"How so?"
-"I’m John Price," he revealed.
-Your eyes widened. Oh, crap. You just met THE history teacher of the campus dressed as a Bridgerton character. What were the odds?
-He laughed. "Nice to meet my new colleague. Heard quite a bit about your work."
-"Likewise, and… sorry about the attire," you apologized.
-"No need. It suits you. Makes me feel like a proper gentleman seeing someone dressed like that," he said with a grin.
-You chuckled nervously. "Well, it was nice meeting you, Mr. Price."
-Little did you know, your next class for the first year was a shared one with him. Dodging him might not be as simple as you thought.
NIKOLAI as a F1 pilot :
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-Your friend's desperate plea over the phone stirred something in you.
-"Alright, I'll come help with the shoot," you conceded, feeling a flutter of excitement mixed with apprehension.
-As you arrived at the location, taking in the serene surroundings, you couldn't shake the feeling of being out of place among the bustling crew.
-Your specialty lay in capturing the untamed beauty of animals—dogs, cats, and the like.
-This commercial setup felt like a far cry from your usual stomping grounds.
-Engaging in conversation with the staff about the artistic direction, you couldn't help but notice the artificiality of the setting, with fake plants and trees surrounding you.
-Nevertheless, you settled in, adjusting lights and preparing for the task at hand.
-"The model is here," an assistant announced, drawing your attention to the center of the room where a man stood, completely naked.
-"Why is he naked?" you whispered in disbelief, feeling a flush rise to your cheeks.
-"It's for the charity event, featuring naked pilots for calendars," the staff explained casually, oblivious to your discomfort.
-Stunned, you turned to your friend, silently questioning her decision to involve you in this unconventional endeavor.
-"I photograph nature and animals, not... naked humans!" you protested, feeling a mix of embarrassment and frustration.
-"Well, technically, you photograph a big snake," she quipped, a mischievous glint in her eye.
-You rolled your eyes, suppressing a sigh. "Ugh, don't even mention his...thing, please."
-"I don't mind being called an anaconda," the man interjected with a smirk, his gaze lingering on you in a way that made your heart race.
-Caught off guard by his boldness, you shifted uncomfortably, suddenly hyper-aware of his proximity.
- "Sir, I'm sorry, but I wasn't warned about these... circumstances," you stammered, struggling to maintain composure.
-"I understand. If we need to reschedule, no problem, Солнышко ," he reassured, his voice low and soothing, sending shivers down your spine.
-"What did you just say?" you asked, unable to hide the hint of fluster in your tone.
-"Sorry, I meant no problem to reschedule, sunshine," he clarified, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
-"But you're... a star?" you questioned, feeling a mixture of confusion and intrigue.
-"I'm a well-known F1 pilot, yes. But I'm closer to retirement than those young ones. I doubt people would buy the calendar for me," he admitted with a self-deprecating chuckle, his vulnerability tugging at your heartstrings.
-"I'd certainly buy it for you," your friend chimed in, breaking the tension with a playful grin.
-He laughed, his gaze lingering on you with a warmth that made your cheeks flush. "And you?"
-"I... maybe? Okay, we'll do it, but I can't guarantee anything. I'm more accustomed to animals, so..." you trailed off, feeling a rush of adrenaline at the prospect of working closely with him.
-"Let's get started," he suggested, his smile softening the edges of the room and easing your nerves.
-And so, the shoot commenced, with Nikolai proving to be a surprisingly adept model, effortlessly charming everyone with his wit and charisma.
- As you directed him through the poses, you couldn't help but notice the subtle tension between you, a magnetic pull that seemed to grow stronger with each passing moment.
-"Thanks for today. Need a ride?" he offered, his gaze lingering on you with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.
-"No, I came in my car," you replied, torn between the desire to stay and the need to escape the overwhelming atmosphere.
-"The red one?" a staff member inquired, oblivious to the undercurrents swirling between you.
-"Yeah, why?" you asked, feeling a knot form in your stomach at the thought of your car.
-"Sorry, mate, your car got impounded," they informed you, their words puncturing the bubble of tension that had enveloped you.
-You sighed, feeling a sense of defeat wash over you. "So, a ride?" Nikolai offered, his gaze softening with concern.
-"Yeah, I guess. What a crappy day," you muttered, cursing your luck.
-"Don't say that, it was great," he insisted, his voice gentle and reassuring.
-You nodded, feeling a rush of gratitude towards him for his unexpected kindness. In his car, as he drove you away from the chaos of the shoot, you couldn't help but feel a sense of peace wash over you, a feeling that was only amplified by his soothing presence.
-"Not what you were expecting, huh?" he remarked, his tone playful yet sincere.
-"Well, I wasn't expecting a race car drive, but yeah," you chuckled, feeling the tension between you slowly dissipating.
-"I drive safely. Sometimes you need low adrenaline," he explained, his words resonating with you in a way that made your heart skip a beat.
-"Thanks again for the ride," you said, turning to him with a smile that felt more genuine than any you had worn all day.
-"No problem. I mean, you've seen me naked, so..." he trailed off, a mischievous glint in his eye.
-"Yeah, sure," you laughed, feeling a warmth spread through you at the playful banter.
-"If you want, you can still come to one of my races," he offered, his gaze lingering on you with a hopefulness that sent a flutter of excitement through your chest.
-"I'll think about it," you replied, unable to suppress the smile that tugged at your lips as you contemplated the possibilities that lay ahead.
ALEX as a lawyer :
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-You couldn't believe your eyes.
-A client was after you for a cup of tea—yes, you heard that right, a freaking tea!
-The same tea you accidentally spilled during a chaotic rush, and she tripped you with her feet, claiming you scalded her with hot tea. The kicker?
-You knew it was iced tea.
- But it was your word against hers, and she had a squadron of lawyers ready to pounce, while you were broke. It was pretty clear how this would end.
-You sighed, resorting to searching for lawyers online, but all you found were scams.
-One promised to chase after dead people, another claimed you'd make thousands just by being pretty, and the rest boasted about defending infamous criminals with laughably bad Photoshopped images.
-Feeling desperate, you reluctantly agreed when your mom mentioned your cousin knew someone who knew someone. You certainly didn't expect a model-lawyer showing up at your doorstep with a bright smile and legal expertise.
-"Hi, I'm Alex," he offered his hand.
-"Hi, I guess you know about my... case?" you replied.
-"Yes, there's a high chance of her winning since similar cases have ruled in favor of people like her. Remember the McDonald's hot coffee incident?" he explained.
-"So I'm screwed?" you muttered.
-"Not necessarily. I can prove she's acting out of self-interest."
-"...before you say anything, you know, I can't... afford it?" you interjected.
-"Yes. I... I used to be a prominent lawyer. Perhaps you've heard of the Shepherd case?" he mentioned.
-"The CEO who got off the hook despite everyone knowing he committed tax fraud?" you recalled.
-"Yes, I was his lawyer," he admitted.
-"Oh," you murmured, taken aback.
-"I... I'm not proud of the people I've defended. I didn't realize the harm I was causing to victims. For me, everyone deserved representation, but when I saw what Shepherd did with his ill-gotten gains... I couldn't continue down that path. I signed up to advocate for people. Not evil," he confessed.
-"So you took on lost causes like me?" you mused.
-"You could say that," he smiled.
-"Well, it sounds like Daredevil. Maybe I'll catch you wearing a latex suit at night while fighting crime," you joked.
-"You might be onto something there," he replied, his expression serious.
-"Wait, you're joking?" you asked, but he didn't crack a smile.
-"Mr. Keller, you're joking, right?" you pressed, but he just smirked.
-"Let's focus on your case," he redirected.
-"You can't just dodge my question. I need to know—" 
-"Boxing. I box at night, nothing illegal. I train kids, and I've competed in the past," he confessed.
-"I see. Why do I find that hard to believe?" you teased.
-"I'm a damn good liar. I'm a lawyer," he retorted.
-"Fair point," you chuckled.”well at least I believe in the latex suit at night”
-“Kinky”he joked, you smiled.
-Alex got down to business, helping you devise a strategy.
-Maybe with this super lawyer on your side, you stood a chance. Yet, you couldn't shake the curiosity about his secrets. Who knows what uncovering them might bring?
KÖNIG as a baker :
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-König had just opened his bakery.
- Eager to be neighborly, he sent some cookies to the local shops nearby.
- However, when his customers arrived one day, one of them expressed hesitation: "You know, I was hesitant to buy here because I heard you made the florist down the street sick."
-König couldn't believe his ears.
- Ashamed, he double-checked his ingredients, but everything seemed fine.
-So, he decided to switch things up and bake some croissants instead.
-Yet, the next day brought news that the florist had fallen ill due to food poisoning.
-Determined to make amends, König sent something different the following day.
-And the pattern repeated itself. After a week of this, he finally decided to confront the florist.
-Entering their cute shop, he whispered nervously, "Hallo."
-"Hi," you replied.
-"I'm König, the—"
-"The baker," you interrupted.
-He froze.
-Well, he certainly hadn't made a good impression.
-After seven incidents, he couldn't expect a warm reception, but he hoped you’d understand he hadn't done it intentionally. He wasn't a villain.
-"I'm sorry about the pastries," he began, "I swear I don't know what went wrong. Other shops ate them and had no issues. I—"
-"I know you're not trying to poison me," you interjected.
-"Oh, but... then why?" he asked.
-"I thought someone would have told you, maybe Horangi, the chef at the restaurant. But I'm lactose intolerant. I assumed you knew, so I ate your pastries thinking someone had informed you. Then, I realized that wasn't the case. But if I didn't eat your gift, you might have thought I was upset with you, so I still ate them, and—"
-"It was a misunderstanding," König finished their sentence.
-"Two anxious people overthinking things, but yeah," you admitted, laughing.
-"I promise to bake you something lactose-free," he vowed.
-"Thanks, it'll be appreciated. Your pastries were good, just not for my digestive system," you replied.
-He nodded and returned to his bakery, pondering the idea of introducing gluten and lactose-free versions of his pastries. Surely not because of the cute florist who seemed to visit more often now. Nah.
RUDY as a librarian :
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-You were a young journalist, eager to dive into investigative reporting, but your editor relegated you to the local sports section since you were the new kid on the block.
- It wasn't exactly your passion, but you made the best of it. Your current assignment: write about Rodolfo Parra, a former boxer.
-Avoiding the internet due to its unreliable nature, especially for local stories, you opted for the library.
- As you searched for information on Parra, a man approached.
-"Need a hand?" he offered.
-You glanced at his badge, confirming his name as Rudy.
-"Yeah, I'm digging up info on the boxer Rodolfo Parra. I heard his early days were at the local club, so I figured the archives might have something," you explained.
-Rudy smiled. "Rodolfo Parra, huh?"
-"Yeah, you know him?"
-"You could say that, but I've heard he's not too keen on journalists."
-"Exactly why I couldn't land an interview," you sighed.
-"But why write about him? He retired two years ago," Rudy questioned.
-"My boss wants it, so here I am," you replied with a hint of resignation.
-"I've got some info, but can I trust you?" Rudy hesitated.
-"Absolutely, I'll respect his privacy. I just want to know his story, his struggles. I've heard rumors about a fixed fight where a coach, El Sinombre, forced him to lose," you shared.
-Rudy's expression darkened. "It was more than that. I'm surprised you know about it."
-"I've delved into El Sinombre's dealings before. I wanted to write for investigative reporting," you confessed. "I found it odd that a sports club had ties to a pharmacy."
-"They developed stimulants to win fights, and more... potent substances," Rudy revealed.
-"So Rodolfo lost to a doped-up opponent?" you concluded.
-"Yeah. Rumor has it, El Sinombre threatened his family if he didn't comply. Rodolfo vowed never to lose, so El Sinombre took matters into his own hands..." Rudy trailed off.
-"And Rodolfo ended up paralyzed," you finished solemnly.
-"Yeah, but with rehab, he's probably walking now. But he can't fight anymore," Rudy confirmed.
-"Having your dreams crushed like that must be devastating. A fighter silenced," you mused.
-"Maybe it was for the best," Rudy countered.
-"You think so?" you questioned.
-"Boxing isn't a lifelong career. Maybe retiring was a blessing," he reasoned.
-"I don't know, having your dreams shattered like that... it must take a toll. Imagine if someone burned down your library," you countered.
-"Well, this library was my backup dream, so I'd just have to find another," he quipped.
-You nodded, then realization dawned. "Your backup dream?"
-"Yeah," Rudy admitted. "Rudy for Rodolfo. Not the smartest move for a future investigative journalist, huh?"
-"Hey! You—yeah, I was naïve, but you could've given me a heads-up," you teased back.
-"Now, tell me about your boss. Things might be more complicated than we thought," Rudy suggested.
-"Do you think El Sinombre is after you?" you pondered.
-"We'll find out," he replied cryptically.
-Maybe your beat would evolve over time...
If you want more : my masterlist
I still need to write Alejandro, Lasswell and Farah, maybe in a next part with other characters :) !
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wombywoo · 1 day
Note
Hello!!
I wanted to ask if you would be willing to share how you go about finding the references for the injuries you depict in your work? Your pieces where the CoD boys are sporting injuries, fresh and old, are always so lifelike and to my untrained eye seem entirely medically correct.
I have been trying my hand at drawing the boys retired and resting as well, but I’m finding it difficult to decide what work injuries to add and how to find the respective references.
How do you decide what injuries to portray? And how do you go about finding the reference material?
Your huge fan, amustikas
Oooh ok ok! I'm gonna post my answer publically because I think others would find this interesting too!
To preface, I am definitely NOT a medical professional, and as such, a lot of the stuff I choose to depict in my art is not so much..ah, medically accurate as it is....aesthetically pleasing 🤭
I'll start with scars, as a lot of us enjoy slashing up Simon's face with them, lol. Generally, I'll do a cursory google image search for the type of scar I'm looking for (be warned, these can be graphic) with searches like 'burn scar' 'surgery scar' etc. But I find that for things like cuts and lacerations, real-life scars are a bit innocuous and lame 🤷‍♀️ Unfortunately not everyone's skin wants to retain that perfect slash look™️😔
So what I usually end up referencing are costume prosthetic scars ✨
As you can see, they're pretty gnarly:
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And you definitely don't have to go this intense, but I find that the dramatic, carved-like appearance of these translate better to art than a realistically healed wound 🤙
The other thing to consider is the prevalence of injuries in the military. From what I've gathered, the most common will be back/shoulder/limb injuries, just a general fucking up of the whole musculoskeletal system in general due to constant overuse 🤕 Hearing loss, shrapnel/blast/burn injuries are also common, as well as all the negative psychological effects :') goooood times (not)
I think it's neat to look up real-life examples of these things, but it can get a bit intense if you're squeamish...
SafeSearch is OFF, the horrors are REal 😳
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So yeah...I tend to tone things down, all things considered...😅
For this particular piece:
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I researched broken humerus injuries and treatment 👍 Poor boy 🥺(Yes, I am aware that I consumed entire articles and did a shit ton of research about this just to go ahead and put a female's x-ray in this fucking picture sdfghjkl rip💀😭)
But here you can see the actual process for applying the brace for this particular injury:
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Neat, eh?
When I draw Johnny with a knee brace, it's usually a real authentic one you can buy on amazon:
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Product placement blast!!!💥✨ Bezos, where is my cut?? 🫰
As for ones like this:
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I tend to just...scatter some wounds around and patch them up accordingly, lol. Bruising around the eyes is common with any head injury, and surgical stitching will offer a nice puckered skin effect mmm 👌 (I swear I'm normal abt this)
I'm sure the medical malpractice lawsuits are stacking up for me now, but again--it's usually more about the ✨visuals✨
My parting advice would be--go nuts! Feel free to maim and mutilate and mangle to your heart's content 🥰
Thank you for the question, Amustikas! I love your art as well ���🫶
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coco-loco-nut · 2 days
Text
Book Club - Part 4
Pairing: Lance x Reader, Grid x Reader
Summary: no spoilers 😈
A/n: I’m not ready to let them go, so send in book club requests so we can keep the club going 🥲
requests are open 🗣️ masterlist
—————————
“Nico, when did you ask your wife to marry you?” you dangle upside down on his couch, just chilling and asking for life advice, similar to how the book club started.
“When I knew the time is right and she was the one. Are you second guessing Lance?” he asks, sitting in a chair beside you. You are both in your racing suits, ready for the upcoming race.
“Not necessarily, it’s just that we’ve been together for so long, and god I really love him. You could ask me to marry you right now and I’d say no, that’s how down bad I am,”
“He’s your pookie,” Nico says, smiling proudly at using slang.
“Hell yeah,” you high five him. “I know he wants to marry me, I just wish he’d propose,” you groan.
“Have you talked to him about it?”
“Never, ever, ask a girl that. And the answer is no. I just- I don’t want to rush him. I know Lancelot, and he’s gonna want to make it perfect, so I don’t want to make him feel rushed,” you explain and Nico nods.
“Well then, in an alternate universe, I have already asked you to marry me,” Nico says, trying to comfort you.
It’s true, on Earth 2, you and Nico are closer in age and married.
“God, I can only hope,” you grin at the Haas driver, moving to sit normally.
“Don’t worry about it, I see the way he looks at you, it’s only a matter of time,” Nico reassures you.
“Thank you. You really are one of my closest friends. Our little club is my family,” you tell Nico who pulls you into a hug.
“We always will be. Competitors on the track, family off the track,” Nico says as Kevin walks in.
“Y/n, you okay?” Kevin asks, sitting on the other side of you.
“I’m okay, just a little in my bag, probably about to start my period or something,” you wave Kevin off.
“Okay, well you are basically our grid daughter so if there is anything bothering you, let me know,” he gives you a small hug.
“Guys, stop, you are gonna make me cry for real,” you tell them, a little laughter in your voice.
“Alright, go crush this race,” Nico says, walking you out of Haas. You head back to your garage, feeling a lot better than you did before.
Little did you know, was you were venting to Nico, Lance was panicking in front of Fernando, Lewis, and Valtteri.
“What if she says no? Oh my god, she will finally admit that she actually despises me and barely tolerates me,” Lance paces.
“Mate. I don’t know if you noticed, but she looks at you like you hung the moon and the starts. You look at her like she is the thing that makes you live and breathe. You will be ok,” Lewis quotes the song he wrote based on the book you selected.
“Really?” Lance stops his pacing, his eyes shining happily.
“Yes, you two are insanely love sick, it is cute,” Fernando says, amused at the Canadian.
“Just ask her when she wins, she will be too excited to say no,” Valtteri says, Lewis and Fernando gasp, as well as Lance.
“That’s not nearly romantic enough,” Lance groans.
“We arranged for a romantic track walk and picnic at turn two, here is a book with a hole in the pages. When she opens it, eso,” Fernando says, confirming what they had been working on.
“It took a little convincing the FIA, but we did it,” Lewis says. Lance visibly relaxes, a lot of tension releasing.
“How can I repay you for this?” Lance asks, a little overwhelmed, but very grateful for their help.
“Take care of our grid daughter, make sure she is happy for the rest of her life,” Valtteri says simply.
“Hey guys, sorry we are late,” Daniel walks in with Checo.
“What did we miss?” Checo asks, sensing the odd atmosphere.
“Just giving Lance permission to marry our grid daughter,” Lewis tells them.
“Did you ask Kimi?” Daniel asks, the whole grid knows how close the two have gotten. You don’t have a great relationship with your dad, similar to Max, so Kimi has easily filled that role.
“He was the first person I asked, then I asked Kevin and Nico since she is really close with them,” Lance nods, knowing you are probably with them.
“We will be out there taking pictures, don’t worry,” Valtteri reassures the young Aston Martin driver.
“Amigos, it is race time,” Checo says, leading everyone out to the track. Lance spots you with Logan.
“Yeah, you can totally join, I’ll give my copy of this weeks book since I finished it. Just don’t tell the other non-club drivers,” you tell the American. You have gotten closer with him, seeing how excluded he is from some other groups in the Paddock.
“I’ll see you later, thanks for being a good friend,” Logan says, squeezing your shoulder gently.
“Hey, Lancie,” you grin, pressing a small kiss to his lips.
“Hello, love. Are you excited for our date after the race?” Lance asks, his hand resting on your waist, his warmth blocked by your fireproofs. You chat until you reach your respective destinations.
“Good luck, I’ll see you when I overtake you,” you tell him, and he returns your sentiments with a laugh.
You end up placing P4 after pushing the car harder than you ever had before, so you were extremely pleased. After a shower, media responsibilities, and debriefs, you change into a sundress and fix your hair. Lance meets you outside the motorhome, looking handsome in a button up and dress pants.
“You look so hot,” you tell him, jaw dropped a little. 10/10 girls would agree that the only thing hotter than a guy with a baby or small animal, is a guy dressed up in a well fitting suit.
“You look cuter,” he kisses you sweetly, grabbing your hand as he leads you through the paddock to the track. He told you about the track walk after weighing in. The grid helped him set up the date spot while you got ready. Your breath is taken away a bit when you approach turn two. There are fairy lights hanging from the fence and a blanket with a picnic basket on the track.
“Lance, this is incredible. How did you set it up?” you ask him in awe. The clear night sky lets stars shine bright above you.
“The grid helped, especially Fernando, he’s a big romantic and really liked the idea,” Lance admitted shyly.
“It’s perfect,” you take his hand to assist you in sitting down. Lance sits beside you, offering you a snack from the picnic basket. Conversation flows easily between you, talking about anything and everything except for racing, the one topic always off limits on date nights. Lance reaches into the basket and pulls out a book.
“I got you a little something,” Lance says, pushing down his nerves. Out of the corner of his eyes, he can see the grid popping out of their hiding spots in the grass area.
“I do love my books,” you smile, taking the book from him. As you usually do, you flip through the first few pages, pausing when you see a ring taped to the third page.
“I had a big speech planned, but will you let me make you happy for the rest of your life and make me happy the rest of mine by marrying me?” Lance asks and you can only nod as tears start flowing. You launch yourself into his arms, holding him close.
“I love you so much,” you whisper and he holds you tighter.
“I love you more,” he says. You pull away slightly and kiss him. Lance carefully removes the ring from the book and puts it on your hand. It’s simple yet stunning, absolutely perfect for you. You both look at the grid when they start cheering and hollering.
There is a social media intern for Formula One somewhere in the group who captured the whole thing on video, Fernando paid her under the table for it and he hid another camera and microphone on the wall of the track. He knew the guys would only remember to get pictures.
You take your time thanking each driver and hugging them, you really tear up when you see Kimi there.
“Congratulations, you raced so well today, I am very happy for you,” Kimi actually hugs you, if there wasn’t photo proof from Lando and Daniel, who’s jpg accounts broke the news of the engagement (you wouldn’t want it any other way), people wouldn’t believe it.
“Thank you. Wait, you said you weren’t going to be here for the race!” you gasp, looking at him a little betrayed.
“If you knew I was here, you would insist on getting dinner with me instead of going on a date,” Kimi shrugs, a small knowing smile on his face. Not only is he basically your dad now, he has been mentoring you a few times a week, even hopping in the sim once in a while.
“You’re right. I’m just glad you approve,” you smile as Lance wraps an arm around your waist.
“He was the first person I asked,” Lance kisses the side of your head.
“Wait, I thought we were the first,” Kevin says, looking at Nico.
“As long as she’s happy, I’ll get over it,” Nico jokingly mourns his loss of you.
“The ring is gorgeous,” George says, inspecting it. He is the babygirl of the group.
“Alright guys, let’s leave the happy couple alone,” Logan says, Lewis helping him herd everyone away from you and Lance.
“This may have been the most perfect day ever,” you sigh happily.
“Only because I am with the perfect girl,” Lance grins at you, holding you close as a blush covers your face.
“Shut up,” you giggle, pulling him down onto the blanket with you. He holds you in his arms for a few minutes before you yawn.
“Let’s get you back to the hotel,” Lance chuckles, helping you stand up. He is grateful that his assistant is taking care of the cleanup and your assistant packed up your drivers room for you.
“Mhmm, I need cuddles ASAP,” you yawn again, thankful for everything the day has brought you and that the hotel is close by. When you get back, it doesn’t take too long for you to crash.
“How did I get so lucky?” Lance whispers, pulling you close to him. Your steady breathing lulls him to sleep.
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hijackalx · 1 day
Text
BG3 CHARACTERS REACTING TO BEING CALLED DADDY/MOMMY +18
characters included: karlach, astarion, halsin, gale, gortash
KARLACH
LOVES being called mama/mommy. probably suggests that you call her that before you can even bring it up
kind of plays into the caregiver role but only to an extent. it definitely feels like a character she shifts into. plays it VERY good though
usually something she reserves just for sex. if she calls herself mommy otherwise it’s probably in a nonsexual, playful manner (unless she’s teasing, which will be VERY obvious)
on the other hand…. if you call her mommy outside of sex….. she will be acting accordingly (your hole is getting obliterated promptly)
really, REALLY sweet when she goes into mommy mode 😭 like i don’t think could be a hard dom mommy if she tried. the two just don’t mix for her. consists of lots of praise and kisses and cooing
ASTARION
i’m sure he’s heard it before, but it’s different coming from you. he’s definitely taken aback at first. has to think about how he feels about it LMAO
makes him feel old af 😹😹 but he’s lowkey a sucker for an age gap dynamic so he has mixed feelings
eventually accepts how hot it is. once he sees you falling apart beneath him whimpering “daddy, daddy, daddy—“ his soul is SNATCHED !!!!!!!
loves to refer to himself as daddy to see your reaction— SO obsessed with the effect it has on you. he thinks it’s so sweet. will also use it to get you to do what he wants (using his powers for evil fr)
honestly wouldn’t have thought to introduce it to your relationship but he’s literally a natural. he already has the patronizing soft dom thing down so it flows pretty easily 😹💗
GORTASH
THE DADDY OF ALL TIME. DO NOT EVEN SPEAK TO HIM IF YOU AREN’T GOING TO BEGIN AND END EVERY SENTENCE WITH “DADDY”
refers to himself as daddy CONSTANTLY. will also do it outside of sex. literally a cringe discord daddy dom. but like. sexy. (will call you kitten)
HARD and MEAN daddy dom. can occasionally be sweet with it during aftercare though— “daddy’s so proud of you”
hearing you call him daddy makes him sooo weak. you can honestly get him to do anything for you if you whine “daddy” in a needy enough tone 😈 bonus points if you call him daddy in public. 100% wants everyone to know that you call him that
also super into the sugar daddy thing. loves to shower you in gifts and money. definitely a prominent dynamic in your relationship
GALE
legit stops him in his tracks. he’s like a deer in headlights. has no idea how to react LMAO
never considered himself daddy material before. he’s excited that you do though (he’s pumping his fist in the air and whispering “yesss” 😹😹) it’s a huge compliment for him
kind of awkward using it during sex at the beginning, he just doesn’t want to sound weird or anything. but if you encourage him he gets more confident with it and it’s so, so good
has such a good personality for it in terms of attentiveness/caring for you. plays daddy extremely well but he’d never admit it (still doesn’t believe he’s daddy material 😹)
gets SO flustered if you call him daddy in front of other people. even though he thinks it’s super hot he’d prefer for it to stay your little secret— it’s kind of sexier that way anyway
HALSIN
the most normal about being called daddy. doesn’t think it’s some huge deal or anything— he’s heard it before and it doesn’t phase him
integrates it into your sex life really smoothly (and into your everyday life if you want that). doesn’t care at all if people overhear and lowkey can embarrass you with how much he will readily refer to himself as that in public 😹😹 if you wanted him to wear a badge that said “[name]’s daddy” he would LMAO
always coming up with ways to get you to say it during sex, usually offering some kind of reward for it if you catch my drift 😼
the best at the caregiver role. does it so casually and it seems very normal for him. has such a good, soothing tone of voice for it too
the only downside is that it almost feels like he’s not as into it as you are. i mean he is but he’s so lax about it because he’s just like “kink is normal who cares !!” but like damn a little enthusiasm PLEASE
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rreids · 2 days
Note
hey, i was wondering if you'd be able to write smth with Spencer in a relationship with someone with bpd? it's totally okay if you're not comfy with that, but I've just been suspecting i may have it, and ppl with bpd are always portrayed so negatively in relationships. it would be just rly nice to read ur take on how Spencer would handle that and just see some positive representation! (my mental health has also been shit so it would be p comforting lol) thank u 🫶
hi love 🫶 i don't know a ton about bpd, so i hope i did this justice! i researched the diagnosis and how healthy relationships help with regulation and in what ways they do (both accounts from experts and from those who are diagnosed). and i hope you feel better soon <3 it sucks when your mind fights against you.
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PROMISES • S. REID X READER
reader has bpd (written by an author without, ideally will be comforting rather than hurtful. please let me know if it is offensive in any way); gn!reader; spencer has to break a small promise but makes others; talks of therapy; teasing; fluff; ~500 words
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“Hey, sweetheart,” Spencer whispers into the phone, voice a little strained. “I’m really, really sorry, but I can’t make lunch today. We’re on the way to a case in Omaha. It’s a really bad one.”
Your heart sinks. “Oh.”
“You know I want to be there more than anything, right?” He’s shuffling papers in the background, and you know they’re in the middle of getting ready on the jet and that he’s still making time for you, but it still makes your mind race with worry and upset. “I’ve been looking forward to it all week. And I promise I’ll take you out as soon as we’re back.”
You frown, fiddling with the promise ring on your finger. “Will you still talk to me?”
Spencer chuckles. “I think I go insane when I go too long without hearing your voice. As long as you don’t mind calls when it’s two a.m. there, I’m calling before bed every night I have enough time.”
You sigh.
“I know, honey. When’s your next meeting with your therapist?”
“Tomorrow,” you mumble, gnawing on your lip.
“Well, you have permission to talk about how much I suck,” Spencer teases lightly. “As long as you know it’s not by choice that I’m being a bad boyfriend.”
“You’re not a bad boyfriend.”
“Yeah?” You can hear the smile in his voice.
“You’re the best boyfriend. You understand me.” He does. He’s looked into BPD extensively — he knows even more than you do, rattling off statistics, assumed causes and connections, coping methods, everything. He knows how to break you out of the spirals and to calm your impulsivities.
“You have other boyfriends?” Spencer sighs dramatically, and you laugh.
“Why would I have them? You’re more than enough.”
Spencer hums. “I am, aren’t I?” 
You groan.
“I’m messing with you,” his voice is fond and soft. “I gotta hang up, everyone’s coming and we need all our focus on this case. Message me if you need anything. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.”
“You don’t do anything,” you know you’re exaggerating, but it’s hard to stop the words.
“I do, just nothing out of our normal,” he’s nudging you gently, reminding you to think things through before acting impulsively. “I give you permission to watch our show without me if it’ll keep you entertained.”
You laugh. “Okay, okay. Fine. I’ll be good,” you draw it out.
Spencer snorts. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Spence.”
A beat.
“I’m not actually going to talk shit about you to my therapist, just so you know. I do talk about you though.”
And then you hang up. 
He sends you a ‘???’ and a ‘I wanted to say something still.’ right after. When you tell him to say it, he sends a ‘Do what you need to feel regulated. I don’t take it to heart, you know I don’t.’
And he doesn’t. He’s so sweet, so achingly perfect, understanding of when your moods swing, or when you feel empty, or whenever anything changes and you can’t tell why. 
And he always helps you down, kissing scars and tears and whispering praise as he gets you to feel right again.
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heraxic · 1 day
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Hello :o
I just wanted to say thank you (and also thank crumb) for getting me back into thinking about Karl Heisenberg 24/7.
I really love your artstyle, from the amazing expressions (especially the peeved/angry ones) to the scribbly lineart. As someone that’s trying to learn to draw more digitally, I really like to observe your stuff o.o
Your Moldy Family comics are funny, cozy, sweet and comforting all at the same time, and they made me discover and appreciate Eveline (oh man I love how much of a goth tween she is), and the way you draw Heisenberg (his physicality if that makes sense, his clothes, his hair, his everything) is just *chef’s kiss*.
As a former Greek Mythology child, that AU is so so nice owagh. I love all the monster adaptations/designs, it’s all so clever: I love that Kyril is scaley, hairy AND has wings (which I feel aren’t depicted often nowadays with gorgons), Alina is so majestic, with the black tipped limbs and the blood soaked dress, and the daughters being harpies/sirens(?) is also so perfect.
Idk if you’ve already said it, but what is it about Karl’s character that made him interesting to you?
I hope it makes sense (I’m a bit tired) and thank you again for the excellent food :]
Thank you so much!!!<<<3333
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he lives in my head rent free…. his crusty-ass hair and barrel-shaped bod gets me every time
im glad you like my scribbly lineart! I tend to get concerned whether it really looks like anything haha
I miss drawing the mold family but i think my forte has always been fantasy, especially cause i love mythology more than anything. That’s not to say i wont go back to the modern mold family though
For greek au karl i wanted him to look like someone had haphazardly stuck animal parts to him so it’d look deliberately unnatural for him to have a relatively normal human body under all that-
I’m not sure i can fully describe why Karl is so interesting. Surface level, being voiced by Neil Newbon is always a big plus and his face model Joel Hicks is awesome-looking. His character design matches his abilities and personality really well, and speaking of personality, queer-coded villains who make a big show out of everything are always going to be my favourite. His gritty, masculine aesthetic is really inspiring in terms of gender as well. On a deeper level, in spite of all the terrible things he’s done, i find him sympathetic and relatable. After decades spent in a highly dysfunctional family, not living on his own terms, completely alone, I need him to finally be okay and get better for his own sake, with the support of people he trusts. It’s the same reason i love Eveline. Morally dark-grey characters who deserved better and could’ve gotten better with a good support system.
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sunny44 · 2 days
Text
I got you
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x GF!reader
Warnings: autoimmune disease, sadness and maybe more.
Summary: Y/n has an autoimmune disease and struggles to do normal everyday things and gets frustrated at not being able to, but Charles makes a point of reminding her that she is strong and that he will always be there for her.
I want to say right from the start that if anyone has an autoimmune disease or any kind of disease and feels upset or hurt in any way, let me know and I'll delete the story immediately. I wrote it because a few days ago I saw a video of Selena Gomes going through this situation and a guy who was with her said these words to her, I thought it was so beautiful the way he made her feel good and not frustrated about having a disease she didn't choose to have, and so I thought it was a nice idea to do something like this, so that if someone is going through something similar to remember you that you’re strong and brave.
Link of the video
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And again I felt a wave of frustration and embarrassment welling up inside me as I once again failed to open the jar of pickles. It was just a small everyday gesture, but for me, it was yet another painful reminder of my struggle with an autoimmune disease.
“This is so embarrassing,” I murmured, feeling the weight of helplessness.
But before I could sink myself completely into the feeling of failure, Charles intervened, his gentle voice cutting through the tense air around us.
“That’s not embarrassing.” he said, his expression kind as he reached for the jar of pickles. “You got the disease because you can handle it, that’s why they gave it to you.”
I looked at him, surprised by his comforting words. I had never thought of it that way before.
To me, my condition was a source of frustration and sadness, but Charles was offering a new perspective, a view of strength and resilience that I had never considered.
“You’re right.” I murmured, a faint smile forming on my lips as he effortlessly opened the jar.
“You’re strong enough to handle it.” he affirmed, his eyes meeting with mine reassuring intensity.
Charles' words echoed in my mind as I reflected on my journey with the autoimmune disease.
I had faced challenges and obstacles that often seemed insurmountable, but I always found a way to keep moving forward, to fight another day.
I thought about the moments when I felt weak and vulnerable, when the disease left me unable to do the things that I loved. But I also remembered the countless times I found strength, when I refused to let the disease define who I am.
With a sigh, I turned my attention back to Charles, feeling grateful to have him by my side. He was way more than just the love of my life; he was my support, my rock in times of storm.
“Thank you, babe.” I said softly, my voice filled with gratitude.
He smiled at me, his eyes shining with warmth and understanding.
“Whenever you need help, I'll be here for you. You're not alone in this journey, Y/n.”
It was a simple promise, but it meant the world to me. I knew I could count on Charles to be here for me, no matter what.
Together, we continued our afternoon, sharing laughter and deep conversations as we faced the challenges of everyday life. And although my journey with the autoimmune disease was full of ups and downs, I knew that with Charles by my side, I could face anything.
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Bonus scene!
Charlesleclerc instagram stories
“Just a quick reminder that your strong and beautiful, and that I’m here for you always.” Tagged: @yourusername
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Finally Getting Help (pt 13)
Masterpost
Danny was holding Jason’s hand so tight he felt like his fingers were creaking but Jason wasn’t about to say anything. They were waiting in the doctor's office for Danny’s first ultrasound and Jason was accompanying him as promised, if Danny needed to squeeze his hand that was what Danny needed to do then so be it, it was better the bolting, which it looked like he was considering. Leslie didn’t usually make people wait long but when she had an emergency she had an emergency, it didn’t matter that Bruce funded her clinic, and was sitting awkwardly in one corner, they could wait.
It had been decided that as Danny’s guardian and maybe boyfriend? Bruce and Jason would be the ones to go in with him, with Danny’s agreement of course. Jazz and Dick had both wanted to come too but they didn’t want to crowd the room or overwhelm Danny so it was decided they would stay close by but not come In. Just then they were waiting together at a cafe across the road in case they were needed.
“Alright, I’m sorry to keep you both waiting but you know how Gotham is,” Leslie said a little grim-faced and still stripping off bloody gloves as she walked into their room and tossed them into the trash can. “So, Danny right,” Danny nodded. “Will you come with me into a private room for your examination?” She asked, because of course she did, the phrasing too was carefully worded to not put him on the spot so if Danny was feeling at all threatened or uncomfortable about Jason and Bruce being there he wouldn’t be blamed for following her. 
“You don’t have to,” She added quickly when Danny looked panicked and clung to Jason so tight Jason couldn’t help wincing. “We can move forward with the appointment if them being here makes you more comfortable?” 
Danny nodded quickly so she nodded as well and sat down at her desk, opening a file on her computer. “So, you’re here for an ultrasound right?” She glanced over and Danny nodded again, he seemed to be feeling really shy, Jason had never seen him so nervous, Bruce looked worried. “But it says here you haven’t had a check up in years so would you mind if we do a general exam first? I would like to make sure that You are healthy before we move on to the babies.”
“Yes that’s fine, but you know I’m not fully human right?” Danny asked, she paused for barely a moment. 
“I was told you had some differences,” she confirmed gingerly. “What should I expect?”
“Well, my heart rate is naturally slower than it used to be, and my body temperature is lower. Like I get to ‘healthy human’ temperatures when I have a bad fever. I don’t know what else has changed, honestly. I’ve been avoiding the doctor ever since my accident because I knew how my parents would react,” he said sounding tired and resigned.
“Well then we’ll take today as a paceline and monitor changes. If you’re feeling well today?” She suggested, she probably would have liked to get a baseline before Danny was pregnant but obviously that was impossible. 
“Ya that’s fine, my heartrate is probably a bit fast because I’m nervous but I’m probably healthier then I’ve been in a while. I haven’t been getting into fights and I’ve been eating regularly after all!”
“Alright. I understand but there’s no need to be nervous. This is a safe environment, I won’t do anything that’s not medically necessary.”
“I know, if Bruce and Jason didn’t speak so highly of you I wouldn’t be here. They don’t seem to see eye to eye on much so if they both trust and like you you must be good,” Danny said with a little smile though he was still tense and pale. That anxiety wasn’t going anywhere fast. In the corner Brace gave a sort of strangled cough that had Jason glaring at him even though he didn’t really know what it meant.
“Alright, then let’s get started,” She said before she started Danny’s check-up, all of the normal things a doctor would do if a bit more thorough. Checking eyes, mouth, ears, heart and lungs, and reflexes, circulation and blood pressure. His heartbeat was slow and his blood pressure was low but Danny thought that was probably normal for him? She gave an unconvinced hum. “We’ll have weekly check ups and check it again then. If it’s sustained and doesn’t affect you then we can say it’s normal for you.” She agreed. 
“Alright, well based on the information you’ve told me I think we’ve established a baseline and you’re healthy. Are you ready for your ultrasound?” She asked and Danny took a deep breath, Jason, still standing next to Danny, squeezed his hand gently.
“Ya, as ready as I’ll ever be,” Danny agreed. 
“Thank you, just lay back and pull up your shirt please,” Dr. Leslie requested and Danny did as she’d asked as she pulled up the little monitor and set things up. In the background Bruce shifted so he could see the screen better. “There won’t be much to see,” Leslie warned, shooting Bruce a look as she applied the ultrasound gel. “It’s still too early.”
She put on a fresh pair of gloves and grabbed the wand, “Alright, let's have a look.” She said, pressing it carefully against Danny’s stomach. 
Danny had let go of Jason’s hand while he lay down but now he grabbed around for Jason again, without looking away from the screen now showing inside his abdomen. Jason stepped closer and grabbed Danny’s hand, looking at his face rather than anything else, monitoring for signs the trepidation there might be getting to be too much. He knew Danny was nervous, but they didn’t want this to progress into a panic attack. 
“There they are. Oh! Two, twins. You’re further along than I expected, 10 weeks by the looks of it?” She asked glancing at Danny who nodded. 
“Ya, I’ve only been carrying them for 6 but they’re test tube babies,” he confirmed, his eyes fixed on the screen. 
“Ah,” She sounded, nodding her understanding. “The little round things below their hearts are odd. Do they have two hearts? No, those ones aren’t beating…”
“Those are their cores,” Danny murmured before it seemed to hit him and he looked at Jason, his eyes wide with panic. “Oh my god I AM actually pregnant, it’s not just the cores, I’m pregnant, oh my god I’m pregnant,” he was starting to hyperventilate. 
Dr. Leslie pulled back and Danny practically threw himself into Jason’s arm who held him tight as Danny hid against his chest and trembled. “Do you want us to call Jazz?” Jason offered softly as he held Danny and let him cry.
“No don’t go,” Danny hiccuped against Jason’s chest. 
“I’ll call Jazz,” Bruce added, of course. He would want to help, he did care, but he never had any actual idea how to help. The emotionally unavailable bastard. 
“Do you want me to leave?” Dr. Leslie asked gently. “I would like to have a better look at the twins to check on their development but if you need time I can come back later, or even another day.”
“Just-just give me a minute, please,” Danny sniffled as Jason rubbed his back.
“Of course. I know this is overwhelming,” Leslie said gently. 
Jazz barged into the room and immediately hugged Danny a well, sandwiched safely between her and Jason. “Scruff him, it’ll help,” she told Jason, who nodded and squeezed the back of Danny’s neck. 
He shuddered and then started to relax between the two of them, basically letting the two taller, and trusted, people hold him up. His sobs turned into sniffles and then a few deep breaths. “Okay, okay I think I’m ready. I want to know that they’re okay too. I know their cores are developing well but if they have human bodies, we need to make sure those are healthy too right?” 
“Right. Do you want me to stay, or do you want Bruce to come back in?” Jazz asked gently. 
“No, you and Jason stay please,” Danny said softly. He had thought it was right for Bruce to come in as his guardian, but it was Jazz who had really been looking after him for years. “There’s not much to see right now, just little blobs. We’ll tell him how it goes.”
Danny took another breath and then squirmed out of both of their arms and went to lay back on the table, pulling up his shirt again. Jason stood next to the examination table, taking Danny’s hand again, Jazz went and sat on the table by Danny’s head and stroked his hair while Dr. Leslie applied fresh jelly to his stomach since it had been worn off during his panic attack. Jason might have to change his shirt after this.
“Alright, let’s have another look shall we?” She said with a warm smile as she pressed the wand against his stomach again. She found the babies again fairly easily. “They seem to be sticking pretty close together,” She said with a little smile. “They’re active little things! It’s far too early to tell anything else about them but from what you’ve told me they seem to be on track and developing properly,” She said, pulling back and offering Danny a cloth to clean the gel off his stomach.
“Do you mind if we call Bruce back in? As your guardian I’d like him to be here for you treatment plan?” She asked.
“Sure, makes sense,” Danny agreed with a nod. 
She nodded back and looked at Jazz, who nodded as well and ducked out to get Bruce. “While we’re mostly alone I want to know, do you know all your options Danny? You know you don’t have to carry them. They’re just embryos right now, not even conscious. Your health and safety comes first,” Dr. Leslie told him gently. She knew Jason was firmly pro-choice.
“No, I know,” Danny said with a little smile and a nod, looking down at his stomach and gently caressing it. “I know I don’t Have to do this. But I do want them. I’m already attached to them, you know?” He said looking up at her, worried that she would judge him. He hoped he was making the right choice, that he wasn’t ruining his life at 16 or something. Fuck he could be on that trashy tv show! 
“I understand,” She assured, no hint of judgment on her face. Of course not, if she could treat rogues without judgment she sure as hell wasn’t going to judge a teen parent. She glanced up as the door opened again and Bruce and Jazz entered. “Right,” Leslie said, sitting down at her computer and starting to type. “You’re still a little malnourished so I’d like to get you taking prenatal vitamins immediately,” she said, glancing up to see Danny nod. “With your unique condition I’d like to see you more often than usual, weekly visits would be best for now. Once we’re sure you and the babies are okay we can go down to every other week.”
“I don’t think we need to do that,” Danny said, shifting nervously. “I mean you say the human side is looking good, and my ghost doctor says they’re developing well on that side, if slower than usual. I don’t need to come in every week,” He said looking hopeful. 
She hesitated for a moment, organizing her thoughts and considering his words. “Even so, there’s clearly some bleed over that makes it hard to tell how healthy you are. I would feel better if you came weekly, at least for the first month so we can establish a true baseline.” 
“Alright,” Danny said, drooping again, looking back at Bruce. “Can you make the appointment? I want to go home.”
“Sure Danny,” Bruce agreed, pulling out his planner to check their schedule. 
“I’ll take you back to the manor,” Jason assured, using his grip on Danny’s hand to help him up. 
“I’ll go back to the cafe with Dick, we were having a good conversation, I wouldn’t mind continuing it,” She said, giving Danny a smile. “Unless you want me to come?”
“No, that’s alright. Have fun Jazz,” Danny said, leaning against Jason and letting him usher Danny out of the clinic. Jazz waved as she crossed to the cafe where Dick was waiting, looking worried till he noticed them, then he smiled and waved. Jazz waved back and jogged across, about to tell Dick all about the twins no doubt. 
Jason led Danny to his bike, and got on first, pulling Danny onto the seat behind him. Danny wrapped his arms around Jason and pressed against his back, half hiding from the world. Jason didn’t try to talk to him, he needed time to process. He would talk when he was ready to.
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wandasfifthwife · 21 hours
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injured ✩‧₊˚
— hockey player/coach!wanda x afab/fem!reader
tw || hurt/comfort, wrist injury (r), angst w/ a happy ending, r gets a little bit in her head (thinks w is upset she got injured like her mom had years ago), nausea, discussions of blacking out (doesn’t happen), mentions of mommy issues, past verbal abuse hinted at, a kiss, love confessions, not proofread, shit writing
a/n || I originally said finger injury but I changed it since I’ve had personal experience with a wrist injury and I felt this for the scene better.
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Winter had rolled into season, signs of the transition showing itself in how cold the air got, how the streets lined themselves with street lights, and the snowflake decor in store windows. Your brother had texted you about possible plans, stating that your nephew is wanting to do the free outdoor skating they offered in town. You’ve done it every year with them, walk through the decorated city before skating on the rink for an hour. This would be the first year wands joined, she’s become a steady presence now, joining your family in most activities as she gets more involved.
Your brother drove you all over, his wife in front seat with the rest of you in the back. Wanda sat in the very back, kicking at the seat in front of her to get at Tyler. She’s been ruling him up lately, spiking his energy levels and ego. It’s normal, but at times it worries you with how aggressive he can take it, not realizing his movements are a bit thrown out of proposition, hand nearly missing the metal water bottle between the two of you.
“Wanda,” you scold, reaching behind the seat to swat at her, “cut that out.”
She puts her hands up in defense, finally sitting back and relaxing in the backseat. You saw it happen in slow motion, Tyler swinging back to hit at her thigh and Wanda reaching to snatch at his hand before he close.
“Wanda please, either of you could get hurt,” at your tone she stops, relaxing back and stoping her ministrations. The rest of the car ride was calm, you and your brother mainly holding the conversation.
“Can we get that fudge that we usually get? And this time I choose? Because you guys are terrible at choosing good flavors,” Tyler complains, already beginning to walk off.
Wanda had come to wrap your arm in hers, linking them as you wondered about the town. She wasn’t saying too much, personally feeling like she’s imposing on a family memory, but she felt it was enough to be present and witness the love you shared with your family.
“Want to try a bite,” you ask, holding out a small fork with the chocolate on the end of it.
“Hmm, peanut butter chocolate? Good choice Tyler.”
He grins, rambling to his parents then on how he got confirmation on how better he was at choosing items. She laughs at your deadpanned expression, a hand coming to squeeze yours in comfort, “you’re beautiful,” she mumbles, pressing a quick kiss to your lips to distract you from her earlier action. You push at her with a shy smile, crossing the room so you’re reunited back with your family.
You went to the same stores as the years before, stopping by to peek into the windows to see what they did this year for decorations. Wanda pulled your body closer to hers when you’d begin to shiver from the cold winds.
“Where’s this rink you all mentioned?”
“Out by where we came in. The next hour is starting soon so that’s where we’re heading now.”
“Don’t forget, this is a public rink. You can’t do donuts in the center and wipe out all the kids.”
“I’m not a psychopath.”
“Wanda,” you nudge her, “you did that just last week at the roller skating rink.”
“I didn’t ‘wipe out all the kids,’ one challenged me and they lost. Not my fault they wiped out.”
Turns out the rink was packed. A majority of the people skating were kids, looking between the ages of 6-12. Wanda kept a hand on you the whole time, body close to yours as you skate around the rink. She kept you warm, her side snuggling into yours, leaning to kiss your cheek often. You kept passing by your brother, seeing him try to help his wife off of the wall. She only skates during winter time, so once a year. Her legs turning into jello as she steps out onto the ice.
You had been laughing, looking back at the two of them when you heard the crash nearby. Turns out you should’ve given the speech to Tyler instead of Wanda because he actually did wipe a kid out. The kid cried in their spot, sitting where they fell with fat tears running down their face. You had crouched to help the kid, unaware of the person skating behind you with too much speed.
They brushed against you, knocking you off balance. You caught yourself from falling onto the kid, but you paid the cost.
The force at which you were shoved at plus the angle your wrist was at when you slammed it down, combined and met at a single spot in your wrist, snapping it. You’re wincing, pulling your hand off of the ice and cradling it into your chest.
The world looks a bit different, everything beginning to spin and turn blurry. Black dots appeared in your line of sight, uninjured hand gripping tight to the arms that are wrapping around you.
“No,” you take in a shallow breath, “faint. I feel faint.”
Whoever’s holding you doesn’t say anything, holding you in their arms as they skate you off the rink to lay you down on your back on a bench. You hear conversations, mind barely grasping what they’re saying as you’re focused on the pain growing in your wrist, the sensation of unconsciousness falling upon you.
“Shit. Should we drive to a nearby 24 hour clinic? They should be able to help if it’s just a sprain. I hope it’s just a sprain,” Wanda frets, eyes darting back to your figure often.
“Yeah. Yeah, let’s go. Can you carry her? You’ll have to hold her in the car.”
Her hands are scooping under you, gently as to not disturb you so she can walk you back to the car. Everyone’s thankful that you hadn’t parked far away, the car ending up only being a short walk down the street.
You fight with Wanda a bit when she has to move your body while getting into the car, stating how being placed like that will cause you to faint.
“I know, I know. I’m so sorry,” she’s resting your head back on her, adjusting your hand so it’s laid across your stomach. You’re clammy, breathing deep to try and compensate with the lack of it running through you.
“My wrist,” you try to tell her, using what you have to speak, “hurts.”
“I know, love. You took a tumble, landed on your wrist pretty bad.”
The drive’s only five minutes but it felt like the road kept stretching further and further. In your mind the drive felt overwhelming, those five minutes feeling like fifteen.
A nurse brought out a wheelchair, her and Wanda helping situate yourself so they can wheel you in carefully. You’re looking a bit better, nausea from earlier wearing off making your eyes look clearer.
“What happened?”
“I fell on the ice rink, I think I hurt my wrist badly.”
The nurse hums, “well do an x-ray then and figure out whats going on. Don’t worry about paperwork, your brother’s here filling that out for you, okay. What’s going to happen is that I’ll wheel you out so we can get a few scans and then the doctor will be back in to discuss further steps alright?”
Wanda’s standing in the corner, jittery as she waits for you to come back. She notices the redness in your eyes when you come back, the sight of your discomfort has anger flaring within her.
“What happened,” she asks once the nurse shuts the door.
“You heard her earlier, we took a few x-ray scans.”
“Did they hurt you at all? like when they moved you around—?”
“Yes of course it hurt, Wanda.”
“Hey,” she looks hurt from your sharp tone, “you know I didn’t mean it like that. I was just checking in on you.”
Your mind was having trouble distinguishing between two memories, walls being built in fear this situation would end up like the last one. Your brother steels you with a look, telling you to cool it, to relax and realize who it was you’re talking to.
She didn’t say anything after and you fear it’s because she’s upset with you, but if you had looked at her you would’ve found the opposite. She was biting at her nails, trying to deal with emotions of her own, the biggest one being concern. The door opens again, a woman with a long coat steps in, plastering on a smile when she sees you.
“Hey, how’re we doing today? I just got the results and it looks like you sustained a buckle break, meaning you half broke your bone. So we’ll fix you with a splint tonight to let the injury relax and allow the swelling to settle. You can come back tomorrow so we can put a cast on it, alrighty?”
She brought out a a black stuff cast, velcro used to snap the sides shut. The doctor helped you with the sling, apologizing when she notices the wince appear on your face.
“There, all set. Come in sometime tomorrow okay? Other than that you’re all set to head back home. Rest and ice it, and do not lift anything with that arm. Have a good night you guys.”
You feel Wanda’s eyes on you, assessing how you’re feeling and ensuring where you’re stepping is safe. She kept a hand ready at her side, fear still wracking her body since she saw you fall and cry out.
What she didn’t do was touch you. She stayed a foot away, leaving space between you.
It continued to happened on the car ride back to your brother’s home. A hushed conversation happening up front as you and Wanda sat in the middle row, Tyler taking the back seat this time. She wasn’t looking at you, face turned to look out of the window, the lights outside shining against her face. She wasn’t even reaching out for you, hands set rigidly in her lap.
The silence was suffocating between you two. Wanda was nervous, thinking of how you should sleep tonight to ensure you wouldn’t roll over into your wrist— and you were scared, fearing that she would scold you once you’ve gotten into her car.
Nothing was said. The cold air making you shiver. You hoped she’d catch the way your body shook from the cold, that she would coo like she does and give you her jacket. But she didn’t. Why do you keep expecting loved ones to keep expressing care when you keep messing up? You blink back tears, trying to keep it together as to not break down in front of Tyler.
Your brother parks the car, front lights turning off as he does, “Wanda I have some blankets in my closet you guys can borrow—pack that bed so she’s comfortable and not swinging her arm into a desk.”
“That would be wonderful. Thank you.”
She follows behind him, setting out to find these blankets so you’re more comfortable back home. Tyler says his goodnight as he scoots past the middle console.
“Night ty.”
“He loves you,” your brother’s wife says, helping you from the car, “he may not show that now, but I promise you he’ll be crying the second you two drive off.”
“He doesn’t have to cry over me.”
She clicks her teeth, reaching to rub your arm, “you’re worth crying over. He cares a lot, he’s just a dumb teenage who feels he can’t show his emotions around others.”
About five blankets are in Wanda’s arms when she walks back out, face set atop of them in hopes they won’t fall over. Your brother’s wife is attempting to help, opening the back door to wanda’s car so she can toss them in. She also helps you, setting a hand over the top of the car so you don’t hit your head.
“Thank you so much for having us over. Means a lot that you let me join as well,” Wanda says, hugging your brother and his family, “sleep well guys.”
“Anytime. Drive safe, keep us posted how tonight and tomorrow goes.”
She laughs, sliding a foot into the drivers seat, “of course, goodnight.”
Her car rumbles to life, the heat feeling amazing in her car since it’s been sitting the cold for a while. Shes backing it out, waving to them standing in the driveway before driving off. Your mouth is dry as you try to come up with something to say, but you snap it shut when it seems like Wanda wasn’t going to say anything anyways. Her eyes are transfixed on the road, street lights passing and flashing in and out of the car.
It feels as if the silence has forced itself in your lungs, making it almost impossible to breathe normally. Wanda’s oblivious to the fallout happening beside her, not until your taking in shuttering breaths. Her heart breaks at the tears on your face, eyes squeezed shut like you’re in pain.
“Does it still hurt?”
“I’m so sorry,” you cry, curling in on yourself.
She looks beside herself, “sorry? Wait why’re you sorry?”
“Like you aren’t aware,” you snap, voice cracking, “you were there, you saw me mess up.”
“You didn’t ‘miss up,’ some douchebag ran into you.”
“I should’ve seen it coming.”
“No, you weren’t. What the fuck, no you weren’t,” she gets angry, slamming on the car break as you come to a stop light, “how could you have possibly known that he was going to knock right into you like that?”
You shook your head, “whatever.”
“It’s not whatever. I’m sorry that you think this is your fault. It’s not, it was an accident.”
“Cut it out,” you raise your voice, “stop all of this.”
“Okay, what is going on?”
“You’re upset at me,” you choke on the last word, looking at her for the first time since you fell, “you’ve been avoiding me. Like I got cold in the car and you didn’t do that thing you usually do. You won’t look my way, or talk to me— do you still love m—“
She surges forward, connecting your lips together over the center console. You attempt to push back when the light turns green and cars behind you have started to exclaim their frustration.
“I absolutely love you,” she whispers, pinning you in your spot with her teary look, “and I promise I’ll never give you space like that again unless you promise to tell me if you need it, okay?”
You nod and she exhales shakily, pushing the car forward to finish the rest of the drive. She’s set a hand on your lap, fingers intertwined with yours; she squeezes three times every minute, repeating a love confession so that you never forget it.
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jordyn14 · 8 hours
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Hiii
No worries if you can’t but if your able to can you please write a Joe x pregnant reader. Where Joe and reader are married and the Bengals make it to the Super Bowl but reader goes into labor during the game but doesn’t tell Joe so he starts to freak out when he doesn’t see her in the suite.
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Pairing: Joe burrow x fem first person
Words: 4066
Notes: I didn’t know if you wanted the whole labor process, but I decided to add it in. I hope you enjoy!! <3
I knew it was a bad idea to go to the Super Bowl despite being almost 39 weeks pregnant. Instead of staying home and watching the game like a normal pregnant person would, I decided to go to the game even though my do date is in just 2 weeks and I had a feeling I was going to give birth early. Now, I’m sitting in the suite, 37 weeks pregnant, praying that my water doesn’t break while watching the final quarter of the game. Throughout most of this game, I have been cramping, and it’s worse than usual. Normally they weren’t this painful, but it’s gotten so bad to the point where I’ve had to get up and pace the room a few times while Jimmy and Robin watched in confusion. Honestly, I was nervous. What if I was going into labor while Joe was still playing and he was going to miss the birth of our first child?
All of these thoughts were going through my head which were making the whole situation worse. Finally, Robin asked me what was wrong after I tensed up and started pacing around the room again. I told her that I was starting to cramp and it was pretty painful, so we started to count how long they lasted together. As I watched Joe who was playing absolutely amazing, I was getting more and more nervous that he would miss the birth of his child. I needed him during labor. I couldn’t do this without him.
After we started counting the contractions, I could tell Robin was getting more and more concerned that they were labor contractions. Then, a really bad one washed over me and I held my stomach. “Robin, it’s bad.” I said and clenched my jaw while groaning. Robin grabbed onto my arm to comfort me and looked quickly between me and Jimmy. I turned back to Jimmy to see him standing there with his hands on his hips, watching me nervously. “These are definitely contractions. We should go to the hospital. By the time you get settled in, Joe should be done with the game.” She said. I bit my lip and looked back at Joe who was putting it all out on the field. His jersey was all green from getting sacked so many times, yet the game was going their way. They really might win it.
“I can’t leave. Joe’s going to expect me down on that field when they win. There’s no way I can go to the hospital.” I said, feeling some relief when the contraction was over, though I knew another one would start soon. “We’ll have to let him know that you’re going to the hospital.” She said. “There’s no way to tell him. He doesn’t have a phone down there. Robin…we had it all planned out. I can’t give birth without my husband in a hospital without my midwife and doula. No way.” I said. “Everything will be okay, I promise you. We’ll find a way to contact Joe and once they see Burrow by your name, they’ll give you the best medical staff at the hospital.” She said. After I nodded my head nervously, she stood up and walked over to Jimmy, saying something to him that I couldn’t quite make out.
All I could do was look out onto the field at Joe. We’ve been waiting for these two moments forever. The first was when Joe won his first Super Bowl and I got to go down on the field with him and celebrate and throw around confetti, and the second was when Joe got to witness the birth of his child and cut the umbilical cord. With the way we were going, we might never get to experience these moments, and that crushed me. Hell, we didn’t even pick out a name for our baby yet. Our plan was to pick names this week so when we found out the gender when the baby was born he or she already had a name, but now the baby won’t even have a name. What a nightmare.
“Alright…are you ready?” Robin asked me. Looking at the field one last time, I nodded and stood up, but not before a huge contraction washed over me. I tensed up and let out a small groan as Robin rushed to me and let me put some weight on her as we walked out of the suite and headed to the car. As we walked out, I grabbed onto Robin with one hand and with the other, I held my phone with was playing the game the Bengals were sure to win. The amazing season Joe had and the winning streak he was about to continue would end with him not having any family to celebrate with, and he would have to come to the hospital to his baby that was already born. I groaned when another contraction hit me. They were getting worse. “We’re almost there, just a little further.” She said.
Once we made it to Jimmy’s truck, we all got in. Robin and l sat in the back of the truck while jimmy drove extra cautiously. While I sat in the back, Robin and I both watched the game on my phone and Jimmy listened from the front. I couldn’t held but notice how Joe kept looking in the direction of the suite with a worried look on his face. He knew it was a high risk for me to come to the game with me being 37 weeks pregnant. For 2 week’s leading up, he kept telling me that it was better to stay home, but I obviously told him that I was coming. I guess looking back on it, it was a good idea since he would’ve completely missed the birth of our child with me being back in Cincinnati.
Watching my phone, Joe kept trying to discretely look up at the suite where his pregnant wife was supposed to be. Every time he got back on the bench he looked up, but every time he did, I was still missing. A breath caught in my chest as he worriedly walked over and whispered something in Ja’marrs ear who turned around and looked up at the suite and then whispered something into Joe’s ear. “He’s probably so worried right now.” I said and started to bite my nails nervously, hoping that it wouldn’t affect his playing.
The whole way to the hospital, Robin and Jimmy were incredible. They kept reassuring me about Joe and the whole situation, calming me when I had painful contractions, and letting me vent to them when I needed to. When we got to the hospital, I left the truck so quickly that I forgot my phone in it, so I had no way of calling Joe. Normally he doesn’t answer his parents calls right after a game, but hopefully he would since he was worried about me.
We got checked in and then after I was settled down in my room, I turned on the tv to see everyone celebrating already. I missed it. I missed the last play of the game. I missed everyone running onto the field and hugging each other. I should be down on that field right now with him throwing confetti in the air and stuffing some in my pockets for memory purposes. I should be celebrating with him and letting him know that I was so incredibly proud of him and what he has accomplished in such a short amount of time.
Instead I was in this hospital bed, having painful contractions while Robin and Jimmy tried to contact someone that could tell Joe what was going on. “Alright, thank you so much.” Robin said and hung up the phone. “They are going to tell Joe right now.” Robin said. I nodded quickly and looked to the tv. After about 5 minutes of waiting, the camera zoomed in on Joe who was looking around and trying his best not to look worried. All of a sudden, someone ran over to him and whispered something into his ear. Joe immediately perked up after hearing what the man had to say and started to frantically look around. He looked shocked. The camera then followed him as he started to run off of the field, zipping past interviewers, players, and the staff before disappearing through the tunnel.
My attention was taken off of the tv as a nurse walked in with a smile on her face. “Hello mama, I’m here to take some of your vitals and check how dilated you are.” She said. “Okay. Is there any way I can get up and move soon, it really hurts.” I asked her as soon as the contraction ended. “Of course, of course. I will bring in a yoga ball to help speed up the process as well.” She said with a smile on her face as she walked over to me to check how dilated I was.
After she left, Robin got a call on her phone and when she answered it, I could practically hear Joe on the other end yelling if I was okay and why I wasn’t answering. “Relax, she forgot her phone in the car. Yes, okay, be careful.” Robin said and walked over to me with the phone. “It’s joe.” She said and held the phone out to me. I grabbed the phone from her and held it up to my ear, wanting to hear Joe’s voice so badly. Whenever I was stressed, worried, scared, or just needed to be calmed down, all I needed was to hear Joe’s voice. After so many years being with him, he’s become someone I can rely on and trust with everything in me, so not having him here is scary.
“Hey Joey.” I said, feeling tears prick my eyes a little bit. “Hey, baby, how are you? Is this really happening right now?” Joe asked me quickly. I could tell he was trying to stay calm, but excitement still filled his voice. “It’s happening, Joe. I’m already 6cm dilated. The contractions are really bad.” I said. Just as I said this, another contraction started and I tensed up a little bit. I let out a little, “ow,” as I moved around in the bed, trying to find any form of relief. “Holy crap. I’m leaving right now, I’ll be there soon.” He said and I could hear doors swinging open from the other end of the phone. “Okay, I love you. Drive safe.” I said. “I love you so incredibly much.” Joe said before hanging up.
While Joe was on his way, the nurse came back in with a yoga ball so I could bounce on it and speed the process up a little bit. Just like she told me, I sat on the yoga ball by the bed and started to bounce up and down on it slowly. The pain was unbearable at times and I just wanted it to end. Every single time I had a contraction, I so badly wanted joe to be right next to me to help me through them and let me squeeze his hand. Robin and Jimmy were helping here and there, but once Joe came, they were leaving to go get a hotel so Joe and I could share this special moment together. Even now they were downstairs trying to find him.
Currently my head was down on the bed and I was trying to breathe through a contraction while bouncing on the ball. From the side of me, I could hear the door open and expected it to be another nurse coming in to check my vitals or something. “Oh baby.” I heard Joe say. I sucked in a breath and looked over to my right so quickly and saw Joe walking over to me. “Joey.” I groaned out as he walked over to me quickly and kneeled down by my side. Relief washed over me. I was so thankful that he was finally here. As I looked into his eyes, he looked so incredibly happy. This man was literally on top of the world. Not only did he just with a Super Bowl, but now he’s going to be a dad.
“It hurts so much.” I said, gripping onto Joes left hand so I didn’t hurt his throwing hand. “I know, baby, I know. But you’re doing amazing.” Joe said. Just as he said this, I could feel the contraction ease up. Letting out a big sigh, I looked over at him and started to cry more. “It’ll be over soon, I promise.” Joe said and cupped my cheek with his free hand. It wasn’t that. It wasn’t the contractions. Yes, they hurt, but now I felt terrible that I wasn’t there for him to celebrate. Because of me he had to walk aimlessly on that field, searching for his wife that wasn’t even there. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to celebrate with you, Joey. You wanted to win a Super Bowl for so long and when you did, I wasn’t even there for you. I’m sorry.” I said.
Joe just shook his head and let out a small laugh. “That’s what you’re worried about? This is the best way to celebrate a Super Bowl win…I’m going to be a dad. That’s the best form of celebration you could ever give me.” Joe said. “Really?” I asked him. Joe gave my hand a small squeeze and kissed my forehead. “Really. I don’t know how you’re going to top the next one.” He laughed. We both laughed together as the worry was slowly drained from my body. I was so relieved that Joe was here and he wasn’t upset at the fact that I wasn’t able to be down on that field with him.
“But we didn’t get to throw around confetti like we wanted to.” I said with my little pouty lip out. As soon as I said this, Joe’s face lit up and he reached into his pockets with both hands. “I almost forgot.” He said as he pulled his hands out, revealing a handful of confetti in each hand. I let out another laugh when he signaled for me to take some of it. “I cannot believe you brought some confetti with you.” I said and grabbed it all from his hand. “We always talked about doing this with the confetti and saving it. Of course I brought some.” Joe said and kissed my lips.
When we pulled away, we held the confetti in our hand and Joe started to count to three. “1, 2, 3.” Joe said. On 3, we both threw the confetti in the air and watched as it all came floating down on our heads, onto the bed, and onto the floor. I let out a giggle as Joe started to grab the pieces that were stuck in my hair. While he gathered up all of the confetti, I just watched his face. Joe literally looked like the happiest person in the whole world, which made me the happiest person in the whole world.
As I gazed over at him, Joe caught me staring. While he set the confetti on the little table near the bed, he laughed a little bit. “What?” He asked me. I shook my head and ran my fingers through his long hair. “I’m so, so incredibly proud of you, Joey. You worked so hard to get to where you’re at…and I am just so proud of you.” I said, feeling tears prick my eyes once again. There was really nothing I could say to joe to fully express how proud of him I was. He battled through so much adversity in his career. He fought through so many injuries and ups and down to get to where he is now, and he did it. He fucking did it.
“Thank you, baby. I truly couldn’t have done it without you,” Joe said and pushed a piece of hair back behind my ear. All of a sudden, another contraction hit and I put my head down on the bed and bounced even harder, the movement helping slightly. “Ow.” I cried out. Joe moved closer to me and put his arm around me, trying his best to comfort me. Out of nowhere, I felt the urge to push and started to get worried. “Joey, I feel like I need to push.” I groaned, trying my best to not push now if I wasn’t supposed to. It’s only been about 3 hours of feeling these bad contractions, I couldn’t be ready to push yet, right?
The contraction got so bad that I couldn’t sit down any longer, I stood up and put my hands on the bed, swaying my hips and moving my legs. “It hurts so bad but I feel like I need to push.” I cried, tears and snot running down my face. No matter what I looked like or how much I was in pain, Joe always looked at me like I was still the most beautiful girl in the world. He looked at me with those bright blue and calm eyes, but when he could tell that I was getting worried, he pressed the call button. “It’s okay, we’re going to get a nurse in here. Just breathe.” He said, standing up so he could squeeze my hips which helped a lot.
Joe repeatedly kissed my neck or shoulders and whispered encouraging things into my ear. Shortly after, the doctor came in with the nurse and PA who rattled off various vitals and checked how dilated I was. All I could do while she was checking was pray that I was 10cm and could finally push this baby out. This was excruciating and it’s only been 2 hours. “Great job kiddo. You’re already at 10cm. It’s time to start pushing.” She said with a big smile on her face. Why was she so happy? I was in excruciating pain. I wanted so badly to reach up and slap that smile right off of her face, but I didn’t have the energy for that. I glanced over at Joe who was holding back a laugh at the look I was giving him. He knew exactly who that look was for.
Everything went by so quickly, people were walking around the room, checking more vitals, and getting everything prepared while I was freaking out. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t push out a whole baby. What was I thinking? Why did I even get pregnant in the first place. This was a terrible idea. I looked over to Joe who stood right next to me the entire time, but was currently watching the nurses as they prepared everything. I gave Joe’s hand a small squeeze and he quickly looked over to me and stepped closer.
“Joey,” I said through tears, “Joey I’m really scared .” Another wave of fear rippled through me as I saw people quickly walking around and putting on gloves. Even the snapping sound of the gloves being put on scared me. “You are the strongest person I know, You got this baby. I’ll be right by your side the entire time. It’s almost over.” Joe said lovingly, though I could hear the excitement in his voice as he placed a kiss on my forehead. I took a deep breath and nodded quickly. Before I knew it, I was being told that it was time to push. Fuck me.
“Alright kiddo. Deep breath in, hold and push.” The doctor told me at my feet. Taking a deep breath, I squeezed Joes hand tightly and started to push. Halfway through the pushing process, Joe put his hand on the back of my neck to help me while pushing and he couldn’t stop telling me encouraging things. After 15 minutes of pushing our little baby out, the baby was finally almost out. “Do you want to watch for the final push?” The women asked Joe. Joe perked up and looked to me and then the doctor. “Can I?” He asked excitedly, wanting nothing more than to watch his son or daughter being born. When the doctor said yes, Joe, holding my hand, moved so he could see better and looked down with the rest of the nurses and doctors.
“Can you give me one last big push momma?” She asked me. Nodding, I took a deep breath and started to push while squeezing Joe’s hand really hard. It hurt so much. My body was so extremely exhausted and every single time I pushed, my body would shake and convulse. Tears and sweat covered my entire face and body and I couldn’t wait until I could hold my baby. “You’re doing amazing.” Joe told me, tears streaming down his face as well. Finally, relief washed over me as I felt the baby being pushed out of me. Once I stopped pushing, I breathed heavily and started crying harder once I heard crying. I did it.
Joe and I were both a crying mess as we fully realized that we now were parents. For the first time, it would be the three of us instead of two. We finally had the family we always wanted. Joe looked over at me in amazement, amazed at what I just did. There was so much motion from my feet as they grabbed the baby. “Congratulations mom and dad, it’s a little girl.” The doctor said proudly. I let out a sob while smiling and watched as Joe leaned down to kiss me. “Can I cut the umbilical cord?” Joe asked in excitement. I giggled a little bit and wiped away the tears on my face as I watched Joe who was in awe of the whole thing.
I watched Joe with nothing but love and admiration in my eyes as he listened so carefully to what the doctor instructed him to do. Joe, taking the scissors, glanced over at me with a smile on his face and then cut the umbilical cord. After a few more seconds, Joe came back over to me and kneeled down by my side, cupping the side of my face as we both cried. “You are incredible.” Joe cried, kissing my forehead. He kept his lips there for a few seconds before he pulled away. “We’re parents.” I said with a huge smile.
My heart soared with emotion as I saw the nurses walk over to me with our baby in their arms. Joe backed away slightly so he wasn’t in their way, and watched as one nurse opened up my gown for some skin to skin and the other one placed our baby in my arms. “Oh my gosh.” I cried as I held onto our tiny, beautiful baby girl. Her little cries settled down from the skin to skin contact and I couldn’t help but stare at her tiny features. They dropped a small blanket over me and her so we weren’t as exposed, and after, Joe came back so he could see her. “She looks like you.” I said and wiped away a few tears that streamed down Joe’s face. “I’m so sorry.” Joe joked. The both of us laughed a little bit, but I shook my head. “Don’t listen to daddy, there are girls all over who have a crush on him.” I giggled.
After a few seconds of just sitting here, wondering how I got so lucky, I said, “what should we name her?” I asked. Joe looked at her face and her tiny features and slowly stroked her tiny hand. “What about Noa?” Joe asked me. I looked down at Noa with a smile on my face and nodded. “Noa,” I like that, “Noa Dorothy Burrow.” I said. When I said her middle name, Joe looked up at me with a shocked smile on her face. “Dorothy, like my grandma?” He asked me. I nodded and grabbed his chin gently with my index finger and thumb and angled his head up slowly and placed a kiss on his lips. After I pulled away, Joe shook his head in awe and rested his chin on the bed so he was pretty much face to face with his daughter. “Welcome to the world Noa Dorothy Burrow.” Joe said.
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