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#I want her I want to get married and run away
jqnehr · 2 days
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i told my mum about dr ratio and she called him a cad. so i wrote a drabble about it.
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“I told my mother about you,” you say, quietly watching Ratio work away at the papers he was marking. You watch as he circles a big, fat ‘0’ in red in the top right hand corner of the paper, before putting it aside. He looked up at you. “And what did she say?”
You pause, dropping your gaze to the table top, unsure of how to go about this. "...She called you a cad."
Silence. No scribbling pen, not even a sound of an inhale or exhale from the man sitting in front of you. The table top is the most interesting thing you've ever laid eyes on right now. Ratio is so still, you'd think he'd have turned into one of those sculptures he made and taunted enemies with.
"...We...I haven't even...met her." For the first time in all the years you've known the man, he's utterly unable to formulate a single coherent sentence. Looking up, you see him staring at you wide-eyed, slack-jawed, and he looks devastated. "What did you say?"
"I—! Nothing! Nothing incriminating! I just told her that your life's purpose is eradicating idiocy and that you..."
Okay, I did kind of tell her that you're massively self-assured and that you walk around with an alabaster mask on all the time. But you don't want to break his heart too much. And that I hated you so much I love you.
His eyes narrow into slits. "Let me guess. You told her I throw chalk at people."
The ceiling fan's patterned movement is suddenly very fascinating.
"Aeons, woman, are you trying to get your mother to break us up?" Ratio drops his pen and stands, his hands on his hips. "I can't believe it! You probably made me sound like some lunatic that impales his students with sticks of chalk when they get a question wrong!"
"You..." kind of do. But pointing that out probably wouldn't be wise. Fumbling for something to say, you come out with, "I just told her that you need to be humbled! And that I'm...in the process of humbling you! Nothing too bad."
He rubs a hand over his face in exasperation. "Darling, please don't tell me you told her I drop a pillar on my opponent when I'm in a battle."
"I..." Yes, I did. You probably should've kept your mouth shut. And then your mother exclaimed, 'so he murders people!' and you had to scramble to explain that he kills aliens and such, not people. She didn't have a bar of it.
"Wonderful! Now she thinks I go around crushing people with columns for fun!" You had a feeling Ratio's reaction wouldn't be good. But not this bad.
"It's okay, maybe you two can meet and you'll put on your best behaviour and won't call her an idiot." You get to your feet and pat his arm comfortingly. "Treat her with respect, and she'll like you."
He actually looks like he's about to cry. "It's hopeless. Your mother probably hates me now. She called me a cad! A cad! All because you told her I hate idiocy."
"You're not going to...leave me for this, right?" Your voice is small, and you're suddenly very afraid that you really took it too far. "I'm sorry..."
"No! I'm leaving you over this. I just...need to think of a way to convince her that I don't run around stabbing people with chalk." The papers he was marking are now forgotten and he begins pacing. "What does she like? Cookies? Macarons? Apple pie?"
"My mother likes wine and cheesecake," you respond, watching him walk back and forth, back and forth, back and forth in quite the tizz. "White wine. Likes champagne, too. Um...and she loves chocolate. She'll force you to marry me if you give her chocolate."
"Perfect! Well, then, ask your mother if she is alright with meeting me, and I'll come along with gifts of champagne, cheesecake and chocolate. How about it?"
Good thing my father wasn't in the room when I smack-talked Ratio to her. It would've been much, much worse. "Uh, yeah, alright. Just beware, though, you're going to have to woo my father, as well."
Ratio gave a long-suffering sigh. "What does he like?"
And suddenly the Doctor of Idiots was running around collecting all these gifts for your parents. Perhaps it did work out for the better, since now you're sure he's desperate to stay with you.
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lovifie · 1 day
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Hiii 🩷
I really loved your ‘Mr & Mrs. Price’ story where his partner he is marrying is younger than him! I was wondering if you had anymore of those stories?
If not, I was wondering if you could write a little after they get married sort of thing. Like would they have kids right away, etc.
Thank you!!
Hi love!! 🩷🩷 Thank you for asking so nicely 💕
At the moment I don't have anything else written for Price and her younger wife, so I'll write you a little bit of what I thought would happen after the wedding.
A continuation to Mr. & Mrs. Price
The first thing would be the honeymoon, and Price gives me the vibes to go somewhere cold, like the Norwegian Fjords (? I don't know why, he just does. Constantly clinging to his wife like: "I'm cold, dear. Can't you see?" Only to sneaky get his hands under your clothes.
Friends and family complain about how little photos you took, but it's just because most of what you took, were taken inside your room. So many, so many pictures of his hand on your body, the gold band on his finger shining on all of them.
So much fluffy/dirty talk. "My dear, wifey... See? I told you I was going to marry you one day, and look at you, Mrs.Price... so fucking beautiful under me..."
Neither of you are surprised when a couple of months later you get a positive pregnancy test.
"We used protection..." Price says, as if that would change something.
"Yeah... Until we run out, Mr. I Pulled Out." You say.
Having a child so quickly after the wedding was neither of your plans, but Price was already talking about taking a step back from the dangerous mission and for some reason neither of you were panicking after the news.
It was a weird feeling, at first at least. But on the doctor appointment, when you hear the little alien's heartbeat it was set. Price's hand holding yours, the whole way back home.
He did step back from the dangerous mission, working at base helping the recruits and helping on the small missions, not wanting to be far from you. So he spent his working hours at base, and one day he forgot some documents at home and asked if you could bring them to him.
So you did.
You grabbed the folder, and drove your pregnant self to base.
Ghost was the one who saw you first, almost as you stepped off the car. And he was immediately on your side, stunned when he saw your belly.
"Are you..." He asked, not wanting to be rude; looking from your stomach to your face.
You quickly nod, the man's eyebrows disappearing under his mask. He took the folder from your hands, as if it was a heavy piece of furniture you were holding making you laugh. "Congratulations... That's what people say, right?"
You nod again, holding onto his arm to ease his mind as you walk towards Price's office. Small talk about how you were planning a baby shower and if he would like to assist, the panic clear on his face making you chuckle again.
"I'm pulling your leg, Simon. I'll send you a message with the important news." You say, patting his arm.
"And I will be forever grateful for it." He says, slowly falling in a comfortable chat with you.
Gaz and Soap walk out of Price's office just as you turn the corner. Both their expression of shock.
"Captain!" Soap calls him, annoyed with just finding out. "Ye got yer missus pregnant already? Ye filthy dog."
Price furrows his eyebrows, walking out and smiling widely. Quickly walking to you to give a kiss on the lips, his hands resting on your tummy.
"How are my girls doing, sweetheart?" He asks, Simon hearing it perfectly.
"Girls? You are having a baby girl?" He asks, making Gaz and Soap repeat it as echo.
You chuckle again, taking the fold from Ghost's hand and handing it to Price. "We are doing great today, John. Here's the documents, Simon wouldn't let me hold them myself."
"Good lad." He says, nodding at the mancunian making you shake your head.
Unlike Ghost, Gaz actually asks you about the baby shower and if he can assist. Price doesn't say anything, but he is really glad he offered; having now a familiar face at the party.
And even though only Gaz assists in person, he brings a present. "From Ghost, Soap and I, hope the girly likes it. Whenever she uses it."
He says that because the gift is a bright pink toy car for the baby to drive around.
Price complains about the safety of it, but later at night when everyone is gone he sits on the sofa, looking at you drive the car yourself talking about how you always wanted one as a kid. And Price is not sure how he got this lucky in life.
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bunnys-kisses · 2 days
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jailbird (3)
prisoner!simon "ghost" riley
the series master-list
cw: (former) prisoner!simon, civilian!reader, smut & fluff, dom!reader, sub!simon, gentle sex, size kink, pregnant!reader, wife kink
bunny says: like the fic? leave a comment! really like the fic? suggest your own!
you rubbed your back as you cooked up some breakfast. you then yawned into you fist. it was hard giving up coffee for the sake of your unborn baby, but simon promised that when your son was born, he'd buy you the fanciest coffee at the supermarket.
it had been over a year since simon got out of prison, and now you two were expecting your first child. right now he was the size of an avocado and simon couldn't help but put his hands on the small bump.
"mornin', love." he said as he came up behind you and his hands on the bump. his hair was a mess and his large tattoos hands were on your hips, "bacon for me?"
"it's turkey bacon. less fat." you reminded him.
he grumbled, "not as good." then leaned in to kiss you on the cheek, "how did you sleep." his hands linked under your bump as he held it gently.
you flipped the bacon and focused your attention on the eggs in another pan. you felt a shift of your child in your womb, "it was alright. i think i'm getting used to your snoring."
he kissed you again and grumbled, "i'm sorry."
you chuckled, "I don't mind. either you've gotten quieter or i'm just used to it." you tilted your head up and kissed him on the lips briefly, "if you can get the toast ready that would be great."
"anythin' for ya." he said as he pulled away and went to make some toast for the both of you. it was domestic, it was quiet. a woman and her much larger, tattooed ex-convict of a boyfriend.
-
simon called you his wife often, despite never actually being married. you didn't mind it. you shared a home were building a family, but you often wondered if you would ever get married. you were never keen on a huge celebration, but something would be nice. regardless you were his missus.
regardless of your pregnant size, he handled you with ease. there were times where he'd simply guide your hips as you rode him. he was he one in control. you held onto him and moaned as you felt his cock press up into you.
"beautiful wife." he smirked as he kissed your face.
you wondered if it was possible for to control the pace. to have your boyfriend give up control and let you work his body? while your bdsm together was short lived, he stopped any rough play when you announced you were pregnant, you wondered if the roles could be reversed? the tiny girlfriend in control of her beefy, scary boyfriend.
it was a rather arousing thought. to watch simon squirm while you made sure he was taken care of. it didn't have to be vicious or rough, which would make simon happy (for your sake), but tender and slow. you rubbed your thighs together while seated at your work desk, you had to focus on work! not on your boyfriend's cock inside of you.
you leaned back in your desk chair and rubbed your swollen middle as you gazed at the spreadsheet you had been working on. simon gave you the gift of your first born child, you believed it was time to repay him for it.
-
"simon." you said as you were curled up with him on the couch. simon's head was in your lap and his legs were hanging off the couch. you were running your fingers through his short blond hair.
"yeah, love." he said.
"i want to ask you about something."
he lifted his head and looked at you, he looked at your curiously. for a brief moment he was worried that he had done something wrong. but a closer study of your face revealed that you weren't upset with him, which settled him down. he simply said with a kiss on your bump, "ask away."
"i was wondering, if maybe... i can take charge when we have sex? just for tonight. i know you like being in charge, but i thought it could spice things up with anything too intense."
he said gruffly, "i don't want ya puttin' strain on yourself." as his broad hand rubbed your middle, "worried you'll get tired out."
you reached down and cupped his face, "well, then if i get tired then you can take over... it wouldn't hurt to try." you smiled, "i think it'll be fun."
simon learned very early on that he could never say no to his girl. he simply pressed his cheek back on your bump and rubbed it. he said, "alright, but don't push yourself too hard."
he lingered closely during dinner, his hands on your hips as he watched you make dinner. he was in charge of chopping vegetables, but when he wasn't, his hands were on you. he wanted to be close to his wife.
even though very few thought of him as a gentleman, the way he sat you down on the couch after dinner so he could wash the dishes of your dinner left you feeling pink.
when he came back to you however, he held out his hand. you took it and he helped you up off the couch. he stared down at you for a moment and you reached out for him. you framed his face in your hands and leaned up to kiss him.
"i'm fine."
once in the bedroom, he marveled at your body as you started to undress. he shirt was already off as he sat at the edge of the bed, ready to help you if you needed it. but you shooed his hands away. he admired the slope of your pregnant belly and the heaviness of your breasts. you had a figure his admired, a lil pregnancy fat to keep you and the babe warm.
"you're staring."
"can't i?" he asked, "i made you this way. my girl carryin' my kid. i think you look hotter now than before." he smiled.
you gave him a look as you got your underwear off, you stood there in front of him, naked with your hands at your hips. you said, "so you're into milfs?"
he shrugged, "only when i'm the ones who 'em a mama." he reached out for you and you went into his arms. he pressed his face against your bump and sighed, his cock twitched in his pants.
you petted his soft hair and felt him place kisses against your swollen middle. he had taken to being a father the way a fish takes to swimming. after a little worship to your belly, you nudged him at his shoulders.
"lie down."
he looked up at you and laid down. he watched you work as you got his pants and underwear off. his cock stood at full attention and you could already feel the heft of it inside of you. it made your stomach flutter.
there laid your convict boyfriend, the man who was in prison for some time. he was laid out on the bed you shared while you tried to straddle his waist. he made you his girl, and you made him a better man.
"gonna be comfy like that?"
"this is about you, simon." you tapped his nose, "the goal is to make you cum." then trailed your finger down his neck and across his chest that was littered with tattoos.
he held onto your hand and placed it on his cheek, "i know... but i still want you to have a good time, love." he kissed your wrist before he placed both hands on your hips.
"hey!" you smacked his hand away, "my job."
"sorry." he said softly. he was a hardened man, he often scared people. but with you, he was so supportive and loving. he adored you the way plants adored the sun.
he watched you with careful eyes, they felt heated on your warm flesh as you tried to move yourself (with the bump not helping). it took everything in him not to do it himself. but he had to trust you.
you slowly sank on his cock and pressed your chin to your chest as you exhaled deeply. you noticed that simon was holding onto the covers tighter. you said softly, "trust me."
"yes, love." he said softly, he tensed up when you started to roll your hips. you hand one hand on his chest for leverage and the other on your swollen middle as you moved your hips against him.,
"holy shit, love." he groaned.
"see, a wife knows how to please her husband." you replied before you smacked his hands away from you, "no. stay still." there was a bit of a command to your tone.
he liked it.
he continued to hold the sheets as you moved up and down on his length. his breathing got heavy as you started to really put work into riding his cock. he watched your breasts and belly bounce like a hypnotized man.
he made you this way. he never thought when he was in prison that he'd have a woman in his life that was carrying his child. he watched to reach out and worship your bump. but for the time being he'd just have to play the thoughts over in his head.
part of him wondered if he was still a bad man. maybe there should've been more time between when you met in person and your pregnancy. but you were happy. happy with him, of your situation.
he tried to move but you kept him pinned by the shoulders. you were without words as you rode him, all you could do was shake your head. he groaned and leaned back into the bed.
"please, love. let me touch you. i want to touch my wife." he was almost begging.
you pushed hair out of your hair and looked down at him. your hands were on his shoulders to give yourself more leverage. you moaned, "okay... but be good."
quickly his hands were on your hips and he rubbed your love handles. you felt so good under his touch, it made his brain buzz. what the hell did he do to deserve an angel such as yourself.
"like it, simon?"
he nodded, "you're doing great. my girl." his voice was practically a purr.
you continued to ride him. you felt hot all over but you held onto him. you tried to be sexy about your thrusts. but the burn in your soul to get to climax forced you to bounce on his cock.
simon's eyes were transfixed on your body as it moved. his cock ached, as did his balls. he bred you so good, he didn't know what he did in a previous life to deserve this.
warmth pumped through your bodies as you fucked. it felt so good, and the angle made your core ache. it wasn't long before you felt the curl of orgasm in your gut.
you placed his hands and yours on your bump as you moved on his cock. your moans filled the air of your bedroom. your mind became hazy and your thrusts were disorganized. you came first by holding his hands, your cunt clenched around his cock. and as you continued to ride him until he finished as well.
"shit."
"simon."
he laid sprawled out next to you for a moment to catch his breath. by the time he calmed down, he pulled you into his arms and kissed your face. he could feel your bare belly bump up against his abdomen. he felt relaxed against you.
he said quietly, as he assumed that you were dozing off in the after glow of pleasure, "you'll get your ring soon. just gotta find the right time to pop the question." his voice was a low rumble.
but you were still awake and safe in his arms. when he mentioned a ring your heart skipped a beat. you stayed still for a moment and let him bask in your love. soon you'd be his wife, for real.
the question was, where was the ring? <3
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mrchiipchrome · 2 days
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Character Introductions
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(yes, I know I should've done this before the first part was posted but I didn't so y'all get it now)
-------------------
Nika Mühl as herself
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Height: 5’11
Age: 20
School/Team: University of Connecticut (UConn), UConn Women’s Basketball Team (#10), Croatia (#10)
Nicknames: Mühl, Love, Secretary Of Defense, Pookie (only by Paige)
Nationality: Croatian
Instagram: nika.muhl
Alt: nikalovesbball
“I don’t like her like that, we’re just friends, nothing more.”
“I don’t know what I want yet, but I do know that I want it with you. Not someone like you, it’s you that I want.”
“You know, I was always a Chelsea fan.”
You as Yourself (shhh, just imagine.)
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Height: Tall as fuck
Age: 18
School/Team: Harvard, Harvard Women’s Soccer Team (#10), England WNT (#10/2+8)
Nicknames: Grumpy, Kid/Kiddo, Troll Child (Leah), Baby, Tiny (only by Paige), Captain
Nationality: English
Instagram: y/n.y/l/n
Alt: norflondonforever
“North London forever, whatever the weather, these streets are our own.”
“I want a beach house in Barcelona, with the most amazing view of the water. And maybe a dog, or a cat. And I want to run a small surf shop at the corner of the beach, hidden away from everything. That’s what my legacy will be, just you me and our beach house in Barca.”
“Sorry coach, I gotta go see ‘bout a girl.”
Gabbi Broussard as Emma 'Em' Whitmore
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Height: 5’9
Age: 20
School/Team: Harvard, Harvard Women’s Soccer Team (#18), USWNT (#28)
Nicknames: Em, Emily, Emma Hayes (only by you to annoy her), Ugly 
Nationality: American/Canadian
Instagram: emwhit18
Alt: thebetterwhitmore
“Cal’s not scary, he looks like the rat from Flushed Away.”
“I think you need to stop thinking about what everyone else wants and start thinking about what you want. This situation, it’s not your fault that you caught feelings, but it is your fault that you’re pushing her away, so man the fuck up and do the right thing.”
“Will you stop singing that already?”
Callum Turner as Callum 'Cal' Whitmore
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Height: 6’4
Age: 23
School/Team: University of Connecticut (UConn), UConn Men’s Basketball Team(#26), US Men’s Basketball(#22)
Nicknames: Cal, Gollum, The Rat from Flushed Away
Nationality: American/Canadian
Instagram: callumwhitmore
Alt: nottheratfromflushedaway
“I don’t look like the fucking rat from Flushed Away, stop telling people that.”
“Em, dad called, he said shut up.”
“Watching you trying to flirt is the single most embarrassing thing I’ve ever done.”
Robert Sean Leonard as Coach 'Dad' Daniels
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Height: 6’0
Age: 66
School/Team: Head Coach of Harvard Women’s Soccer Team
Nicknames: Coach, Dad, Coach Dad, Pops, Ancient Being
Nationality: American
Instagram: headcoachdaniels
Alt: doesn’t have one, he’s too much of an old fart
“It’s called intermittent fasting, look it up, you should try it sometime.”
“No, for the last time, me and Coach Hansen aren’t secretly married with two dogs, you all need less free time to come up with theories like that, this isn’t dead poet’s society. Extra training sessions the whole week out.”
“Are those hickeys? Okay ladies, when you want to have sex make sure to cover up the evidence after, I do not need to know more about your intimate lives than I already do.”
Ethan Hawke as Coach Hansen
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Height: 5’11
Age: 62
School/team: Harvard Men’s Soccer Team Head Coach
Nicknames: Coach Daniels’ Husband, Dad #2, Mr. Sir
Nationality: American/British
Instagram: headcoachhansen
Alt: an old fart like his husband, so no alt for him
“So you kids thought you’d get a different answer from me than from Coach Daniels? Why are you kids so incessant on trying to find out if we’re together or not.”
“Don’t tell anyone, but I kissed Coach Daniels last night. It was like something straight out of a movie, something so poetic about it.”
“This is Buddy, me and Coach Daniels adopted him so that he could be our mascot. No other reason.”
Paige Bueckers as herself
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Height: 6’0
Age: 20
School/Team: University of Connecticut (UConn), UConn Women’s Basketball Team (#5), USA Women’s Basketball Team (#5)
Nicknames: PBuckets, PB&J, The Third Jonas Brother
Nationality: American
Instagram: paigebueckers
Alt: p5buckets
“I’ll beat you on Fifa all day every day.”
“God Nika, admit it, you like her. I can see it from a mile away and this thing you’re doing, this back and forth, will they won’t they, is going to hurt you both in the end. All I’m suggesting is that you evaluate what you want from this relationship and then take it from there.”
“I’m always right, it’s scientifically impossible for me to be wrong.”
Leah Williamson as herself
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Height: 5’7
Age: 25
School/Team: Arsenal Women’s Team (#6), England WNT (#6/8/5)
Nicknames: Lee, Will, Spurs Nr 1 Fan, Oldie, Capi
Nationality: English
Instagram: leahwilliamsonn
Alt: will.i.am.son
“I’M NOT A SPURS FAN, STOP SAYING THAT.”
“Y’know in all the time I’ve known you kid, I’ve never seen you this enamoured with someone, you’re so in love it’s making me sick.”
“You’re like the little sister I never had.”
Lucy Bronze as herself
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Height: 5’7
Age: 30
School/Team: FC Barcelona Femení (#15), England WNT (#2)
Nicknames: Lucia, Robert, Luce, Prehistoric Being, Dad
Nationality: English/Portuguese
Instagram: lucybronze
Alt: bronzesilvergold
“Ugh, the ladies just love me don’t they.”
“I’m down with the lingo, I’ve got so much rizz that the boomers come running. Cowabunga.”
“Love is…love is effortless, it makes you feel all jittery and when you’re around them you feel like you can do anything. You’ll know it once you feel it kid, don’t try to rush the process, let it wash over you like the waves at the beach.”
Everyone else as themselves, also the other's alt instagrams will explained when they appear
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natashaslesbian · 3 days
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Mine All Mine
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Word Count: 1.2k
A/N• This is the cutest thing ever istg actual tears in my eyes
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You sat patiently in Colin’s lap waiting for your mommy to come home from work. Today was a shorter work day for Scarlett, a few simple reshoots was all she needed to get done. Your mama was out of the house before Colin woke you up, you hadn’t since Scarlett since you went to bed last night and you missed her so deeply. You sighed deeply “daddy Colin?” You shyly asked, “yeah sweetheart” your stepdad said “when will mommy be home?” You asked once again.
Scarlett and Colin had been married for over a year now and just recently you had started calling Colin ‘daddy Colin’. He was over the moon when you started to except him into your little family, he knew it might never happen and he promised you he would never take the place of your birth father, so you decided you wanted to call him daddy Colin so that way you had two dads. It was a big change for your little brain but Scarlett was so proud of how well you were adapting.
“She should be home any minute now” Colin said “that’s what you said last time” you whined, the seconds feeling like hours. You cuddled into Colin as you continued to focus on your favourite cartoon, fiddling with your step dads sleeve. You were starting to fight off sleep, it being close to your nap time, when finally the front door opened with a gentle click. “Mommy!” You yelled when you saw her blonde hair, leaping off Colin’s lap and running to Scarlett. “Hi baby girl!” Your mom beamed as she lifted you up into her arms, slipping off her shoes in the process.
You stayed glued to your mommy’s hip as she made her way to say hello to her husband. The two shared a sweet kiss which you were not happy about. You reached up to Colin’s face and pushed him away from Scarlett “my mommy” you said cheekily. The pair laughed at your adorable pouty face but when Scarlett tried to pass you to Colin to take a quick shower you let out a loud shriek. “No!” You yelled as you gripped onto your mom’s shirt. “Y/n that’s not very nice” Scarlett said.
Colin took a step back and your mom tried to place you back on the floor. “No mommy!” You screamed as you wrapped your arms around her neck. “I think someone just want to be with mama don’t they?” Colin cooed, his slight parental instincts kicking in. Scarlett gave in to her little girl, as usual, and swaddled you back into her arms “alright baby” she said “well mommy needs a shower so I guess you’re coming with me?” Scarlett asked. You nodded your little head and huddled your face into her neck, happy you got your way.
Scarlett had hoped that after getting you and herself all clean and cosy in some pjs for the afternoon, you would allow her some space. But as soon as your mom said she was headed to her office to complete some paperwork you were running after her down the hall. “Mommy mommy I come too!” You said happily “baby why don’t you go and see Colin, I bet if you asked nicely he’d be happy to colour with you” Scarlett said. “No mommy I come with you” you pouted with crossed arms - clearly you had spent too much time on the set off black widow.
Of course your mom gave in once again and soon enough you were crawling into her lap while she switched on her laptop. You stretched out across her legs and cuddled into her hips while she began to work but the lack of attention was not suiting you well. You grabbed onto Scarlett’s hand and pulled it into your chest, giving it a tight squeeze. “Sweetheart mama needs both hands to do her work okay” your mom said, attempting to pull her hand back. “No mama no!” You grumbled as you fought to keep a hold of her.
Assuming you were getting sleepy, Scarlett took you to your bedroom for a nap. As soon as you realised where you were going you fussed in her arms “Nuh uh I’m not tired!” You said “y/n sweetheart I need to get on with some work ok so either you have your nap or you sit with Colin until dinner time” Scarlett attempted. “But I wanna be with you mommy” you whined. Scarlett huffed in defeat, she wanted nothing more than to be with you too but she had to get her work done.
Your mom considered taking you back to Colin, but given your clinginess there was no chance you would be happy about that. “Ok baby why don’t we go to your playroom hm? You can have some play while mommy does her work” Scarlett offered. “Okay” you nodded, allowing your mama to carry you through the house. Scarlett stopped by her office to grab her laptop and then walked with you into your playroom.
You decided to play with your dolls while your mom settled on the small couch to continue her work. You were entertained for a total of three minutes before you were desperate for Scarlett’s attention again. You waddled over to your bookshelf and picked your favourite book, taking it towards your mommy. Once again you crawled into her lap and placed your book in front of her laptop screen. “Y/n” your mom said, a warning tone in her voice “please mama just one story” you begged and Scarlett sighed loudly but gave in never the less.
Colin had been reading his book in the living room for a while now, so he decided it was about time to start dinner. He scanned the cupboards and the fridge to see what he could find. When he couldn’t decide for himself he set off to find his wife for her input. He headed straight to her office, assuming that’s where she was after she had put you down for a nap, little did he know you had been attached to your mommy the whole time. After checking their bedroom and yours, Colin figured there was only one place you both could be.
Walking softly towards your playroom, your stepdad had expected your hear your giggles or any signs of playtime. When he reached the door the silence was deafening, Colin gently pushed the door open and was met with the most beautiful sight. On the small corner couch Scarlett was laid at an awkward angle, one arm wrapped tightly around you and one holding a book. Colin smiled as he crept in and picked up Scarlett’s laptop, placing gently on your small table. Grabbing a fallen pillow, Colin silently moved Scarlett’s head slotting the pillow in behind assuring she wouldn’t wake up with a stiff neck.
Your stepdad continued to scan the room for supplies and noticed a discarded blanket by your toy box, it was small but it would do. Colin took the fluffy material and gently draped it over your and your mama, tucking it under your chin. You stirred slightly and rolled into your mom’s chest, she subconsciously pulled you closer and wrapped both her arms around you tightly. A frozen Colin resumed his actions when you had both settled again, he tucked you in all snug and laid a small kiss on Scarlett’s forehead and then yours. “My beautiful girls” he whispered “sweet dreams” Colin said has he ran his fingers through your hair. Your stepdad snapped a quick photo of you both and switched off the overhead light before leaving you both to a nice nap.
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Taglist<3
@saraaahsstuff / @dannipotatoo / @tobiaslut / @a-simpfortessa-lesbriean / @marvelnatasha12346 / @yelenasdiary / @mousetheorist / @ashadash0904
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gwennybriggs · 2 days
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After All This Time
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Can’t keep my mind focused on the last chapter of Pick and Choose (surprise surprise lol) so enjoy this tidbit. :)
Wc: 1.6k
Melissa Schemmenti x fem reader
Summary: Many years after the first time she asked, you’re finally able to give Melissa the answer she’s waited her entire life for.
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Melissa sat at the breakfast table with a plate of toast, bacon, and eggs; she smiled up at you as you placed a hot cup of coffee in front of her and took your own seat. She looked out the window to your backyard to watch your adult children play soccer with your husband. You watched as the corners of her eyes crinkled with silent laughter, taking in every detail of her face like it was the last time you’d ever see her again.
Every year, Melissa spent a week of her summer break visiting you and your family in Maine. You were childhood best friends, you went to college together, she fell in love with you and you turned her down to be with your now husband. But even after you broke her heart, she stuck around. Melissa was a bridesmaid at your wedding, and earned the title of ‘aunt’ when your twins were born. She was there for every birthday and holiday, every cheer competition and weekend soccer game, she was even there to make soup and clean waste baskets when the whole family caught the flu one summer break. In turn, you were there for her marriage to Joe and their eventual divorce. You helped her get back into the dating world just to watch her give up and resign herself to a life alone, claiming that having your family to spend time with was enough for her.
“My God, when did they grow up?” The redhead let out a watery laugh as Melanie tackled Ethan to the ground and wiped a tear from her cheek.
“I ask myself that every day. It seems like just yesterday we were planning their baby shower, now they’ve graduated college and are spending their last summer at home before they move away for their big kid jobs,” you said with a wistful sigh.
Melissa glanced at you with sorrow in her eyes and drifted into her own thoughts. Silence filled the air again as you both nibbled at your breakfasts and stared out the window. She wanted so badly for this to be her reality: to wake up every day for breakfast with you, for those two knuckleheads of yours to be her own too, to experience all the little domestic moments in life with you. All of it.
As far as she knew, you never thought about the day she asked you to run away with her in college. You never spoke with her about it after you let her down (except for that one drunken time she asked again at your bachelorette party, but she forgot about that the next day), you just kept going through life as if it never happened. Really, you thought about it every day. Back then your parents controlled every aspect of your life: which college you went to, what you majored in, what you wore, who you were friends with, and even who you dated. They were strict and if they even had an inkling that you were into women they would have pulled back from your life completely, leaving you with nothing and no one. You were scared of losing everything you ever knew, so despite wanting nothing more than to take Melissa’s hand and be hers forever, you married the man they wanted you to and kept your true feelings bottled deep within.
Slowly, you reached for the hand she had wrapped around her mug and held it in yours. She tore her eyes away from the game outside to look at you in shock; you hadn’t held her hand since your wedding day. You leaned across the table and placed a gentle kiss to her lips.
Her brow furrowed in confusion, hand remaining in yours. “Y/N?”
“Ask me again.” You half whispered.
“What the hell are you talkin’ about?”
“What you asked me all those years ago.” You squeezed her hand, your eyes glossy with unshed tears. “Ask. Me. Again.”
Her eyes fell to the napkin on her lap. “I can’t take that heartbreak again, hon. Plus, you have Mike and the kids, it wouldn’t be fair to them. You’ve got a happy family now, you don’t wanna lose that.”
“We’re not as happy as we seem, Red. Besides, Mike‘s always known. You’ve been the one for me since before I could put words to feelings.” You squeezed her hand again, a quiet plea for her to look at you. This time she squeezed back but she still couldn’t bring herself to look up.
She was silent for a moment before she spoke again. “Your mother would kill you.”
You chuckled, “I’m fifty somethin’ years old, it’s past time I cut those apron strings. What’s she gonna do? Take away my inheritance? She’s used most of it to spoil her grandkids anyway.” You lifted her chin to look at you. Your tone turned back to serious. “The kids know too. They won’t tell me they know, but they do. Ethan overheard me talking to Mike a few months ago about the divorce, I heard him run down the hall to tell Melanie. They’re adults now, I think they understand why and how things change.” Your voice caught in your throat, “We’ve known for many years that this marriage would end as soon as the kids were outta the house. Mike and I have talked about it a hundred times. We promised each other that we’d play ‘happy family’ until we knew the twins would be alright. This is our last ‘normal’ week before we sign the papers and our not-so-baby birds leave the nest.”
Mel wiped away the tears that spilled down your cheeks and you gave her a small smile. You’d loved her your whole life, and after everything you’d been through together you never thought you’d feel like you could lose her until that moment. You were so scared she’d walk away, that all those feelings from years ago had been washed away with time.
“Ask me, Mel. Please?”
She opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by the kitchen door swinging open and the twins bounding in to brag about their win against their dad. Mike made his way upstairs to shower without a word. Melanie hopped into Melissa’s lap, earning an ‘oof’ from her, and wrapped an arm around her neck. Melissa had always been her favorite person and you were okay with that, after all she was named after her.
“Aunt Mel, wanna go get ice cream with us to celebrate dad’s defeat?” Your daughter played with the bracelets on Melissa’s wrist, waiting for an answer.
“It’s like 10:30, isn’t it a little early for ice cream, Mini Mel,” the redhead laughed and your daughter’s nose scrunched.
“Damn, what happened to you being the cool mom,” Ethan asked as he stole the last slice of her bacon from her plate. “C’mon, I’m buying!”
Melissa’s smile faltered at the word ‘mom’ but she quickly fixed it, “Next time lead with that, kid. Go start the car, I’ll be there in a second.” She dug into her purse and tossed the keys to your son. Ethan beamed and Melanie raced him out the front door, fighting over who got to ride shotgun. Once everyone was out of the room, she directed her attention back to you.
“Just ask, I promise I won’t hurt you again. I wanna grow old with you and sit in recliners complaining about the price of eggs and milk. I want to spend the rest of my life in your arms. Please, baby.”
She sighed and screwed her eyes shut. You only called her baby when you were drunk. Hearing it come from your sober lips caused her heart to ache. She wanted it, a future with you, with her whole being. “You can’t drop everything for me, Y/N.”
“You’ve dropped everything for me our whole lives, it’s my turn. I’ll go anywhere, do anything, as long as it’s with you. I’m sorry it’s taken me thirty years to get here, but I’m here if you’ll have me. I’d get on my knees to beg, but I’m afraid I’d need you to pick me up.”
Melissa fought tears. “I’ll always pick you up when you’re down, hon, you know that.” She rubbed her eyes, fluffed her hair, and took a deep breath. “After Tweedle Dee and Dum eat their weight in ice cream we’ll talk. I want this, but there’s a lot of emotions that I don’t know how to deal with right this second.”
She began to walk away but you caught her elbow and turned her around. “We’ll talk later, but I still need you to ask.”
You looked deep into her eyes, love and longing swimming around in the pools of green. “Y/N, will you runaway with me and be mine for the rest of our days,” she choked out.
“Only if you promise to always be mine in return,” you teased.
“As if I’ve ever been anyone else’s.” She rolled her eyes and smiled gently.
You kissed her deeply, letting her know how much you truly loved her. Melissa’s hand tangled in your hair, holding you in place. Your whole body burned for her, just as hers did for you. She was the first to release from the kiss and you pouted at the loss of contact. She started walking backwards towards the door to join the twins, a grin on her face so wide you could see all of her pearly whites.
“Forever starts soon, better start packin’ doll.”
You bit your lip and waved as she turned around to leave, muttering an ‘I love you, be safe’ after you heard your kids yell for Melissa to hurry up. Before she was completely out the door she turned her head over her shoulder, “I love you, too. Always have, always will.”
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meichenxi · 2 days
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languages, travel, identity, grief
Maybe some of you have heard of Xu Zhimo's Second Farewell to Cambridge (徐志摩 再別康橋 Translation: Saying Goodbye to Cambridge Again, by Xu Zhimo | East Asia Student). It's an achingly lovely poem about a Chinese scholar who studied in the UK, and how he left so gently, taking nothing with him as he went. It brought me solace over the last year.
I thought for a very long time about how I felt about having to leave China, and what it felt like to mourn for a future that was never going to mine. I cried. How am I supposed to explain why? I'm not Chinese. I've got no family there, or a childhood to look back on. I couldn't explain it even to myself.
That pain was coupled with a type of uncertainty, a discomfort at myself for feeling so strongly. This feeling was not allowed. It meant - what? Something awful, probably. I was a racist, probably. I should hate myself, probably. Fetishization is the word that gets thrown around for white people and their time spent in East Asia at one end of the spectrum - at the other end it's just seen as embarrassing and deeply, you know, cringe. It's a self-interrogation - why do I feel so sad? Why do I feel this pull so strongly anyway, to a country that's not even mine? Why should it matter so much when I leave? I didn't feel like this grief has any sort of legitimacy. But it has taken from September - eight months after leaving - for me to pick up Chinese again.
I felt, for months, hollow and unsettled and drifting from place to place. I opened my textbook, and closed it again. The memories there were too painful. I'm not going to write about why I had to leave, but it wasn't by choice. I had loved the people in the school, even if it was for a short time. When you have no internet and are training eight hours a day, the days are coloured more sharply: bright and hurtful and wonderful all at once. We had no running water. It was in an abandoned hotel. I miss the monk at the temple door opposite the school, always on time at 6am to open it for our classes. I miss the folk at the local shop who invited me to watch films on their projector; once they killed a chicken for us. I miss the woman in the woods who gave me the chestnuts she had picked. I gave the chestnuts to the cook, and we steamed them and ate them by the lake. He wanted me to marry his son; he wanted it so strongly that he brought me pork, and desserts, and gave me paper, and promised me I could have a jade bracelet, that he would buy me a house. I miss the oldest martial arts teacher, who spoke in such strong dialect I could barely understand him. When I was sad and missing home one night, he told me that I should stay after dinner. In the silence and against the cicadas, he started to play the erhu for me. Later, my friend told me that he hadn't know what to say, how to comfort me; I was a foreigner and a young woman, after all. We had very little in common. But nobody has ever played a piece of music for me like that before.
And I miss X, my best friend there and partner in snack-smuggling crime. She is 19 years old, and a janitor's daughter, and one of the wisest people I have ever met. (She also rides an excellent motorbike, and lent me her hanfu, and we sped through the city giddy with our own daring and trying not to be caught.) We got matching haircuts; she had always wanted to cut her hair like a boy, and was too scared to do it alone. When I left, I told her to stay in touch: she shook her head. She said that some people were meant to know each other for some time, and no more. I think the death of friendship by attrition, by - as Elrond said! - the slow decay of time, is one of the saddest things of all. I deleted Wechat. I don't want to read over the old messages. By having this place - her, and the chestnuts, and the cicadas - as a memory, I can tuck it away it. I can keep it close.
I wrote a poem myself on the plane. That was the last I thought about China, the last thought I let myself have, in eight months. I kept myself away from it. It felt like a wound. And against that hollowness, there was constantly the question: Why should I have any right to miss this place? Who I am there? Why does it matter? We are all different people, wherever we go, and whoever we are with; we wear different skins, large or small. In China I was [...]. She was who I was. That name, that I introduced myself to people with - she was bright and friendly and tried to translate things just so. Everybody who goes as the only foreigner to a place - or the only foreigner that speaks the language - is a little bit self-obsessed. It happens. It's unfortunate, and something to guard against. But it also gives you its own kind of identity in a way: your identity is Foreigner. Your identity is a cultural bridge. Everyone you meet, in a country as friendly and curious as China, has questions about you. You stand with your feet in both worlds, and are not really part of either of them. That identity is easy to slip into, like cool water, like trying on new clothes. It's easier that thinking: who am I outside of that? Where am I going? I don't really know. I don't think anyone really does.
And then the second thing happens. I speak Chinese well, by this point. My accent is there, but it's slight. I am short, and have dark hair, and a generally similar build to many East Asians - so the questions I have got in the last few years have changed. Sometimes people think I have been raised here. Sometimes they think I am ethnically Russian, and nationally Chinese. Sometimes I get asked if I am half Chinese. Usually they know I am a Foreigner, 100% white - but not always. There is a peculiar rush that comes from that acceptance; from feeling the relief, just for fifteen minutes, that you belong. It's not about 'passing', or race-bending, or anything twisted - it's nothing so unnerving as that. It's just the human need to belong. Everyone gets tired of being stared at, after a while. And after a while, you start to think - I wish I understood. I wish they understood. I wish this were easy.
But then the conversation keeps going. You don't know a local word, or you misunderstand. You say something in a strange way, or you make a strange gesture, and the glass shatters, and - there you are again, naked again, exhausted again, explaining yourself again. That's the other half of it. There's solace in the Foreigner identity, because that means that's all you are. You don't have to think about your parents, or whether they worry about you so far from home; of course they do. The Foreigner is good and filial and a wonderful daughter. You can craft her into any shape you like. But it also marks you out again and again, endlessly and again, as Other.
There was a paper published a while ago that showed measures of acceptance of non-natives in native-speaking communities. It highlights a strange, but familiar experience to those who have lived abroad - the people who spoke the language to a medium level felt more accepted and less lonely than those that spoke the language to a high degree. It makes sense, and mirrors what I have found with both Chinese and German. When you speak a little Chinese, you are a wonder - a curiousity! Look at the Western girl go! People are kind, and curious, and will slow down to include you in conversations. You are thrilled with what you can access - all this knowledge, that other people don't have! Look how special you are!
And then you get better. And then you realise, cut by cut, that you will never be one of them. You don't want to be Chinese, per se; but you do want to be accepted. You are happy to be British; but you miss China like a wound, an old one, festering, even when it was never yours. How do you tell your family that you are not grieving a lost romance, a beautiful girl, but a language and a life? That there are words of majesty, of playfulness, that will never be yours? You speak well enough that people no longer bother to dumb things down, or explain them; you sit with your discomfort, smile painted on, because - you know. It's not bad. You understand most of it. And on the edge of that circle, smiling uncertainly, following the vast majority of what is being said, you are not clever enough and not witty enough to keep up with the chengyu, the cultural references, the slang, and the raucous laughter around you erupts, and you don't know what you've missed, and everybody says - she's quiet, that one. Maybe all the foreigners are? And all you are doing is sitting and feeling the distance between You and Them as heavy and as stifled in your chest as an ocean of dark.
So you go back. Back to your people. But when you sit with the other foreigners, you are apart. They laugh; what are these nutters doing? The Chinese don't make any sense. The Chinese do this - they do that. You sit there, and then there is a pressure building in your chest too, a discomfort, the desire to stand up and say - well, actually.
You are responsible for everything the Chinese teachers do, and have to explain things in a way that the students understand - Confucian thought, and Buddhist philosophy, translated in pithy bite-size adages for the West. You have no qualifications for this; everything you assert, you feel unsure. Uncertain. Someone else could explain it better, more nuanced, and you need to do more reading anyway - but here you are, and here they are, and you're the only one. And you do know. Not enough, but enough that their jokes, their pains, make you uncomfortable. You feel the need to defend both parties; to be a diplomat, every second of every day. In turn, when the students come to the teachers with problems, you have to translate their grievances in a way that the Chinese teachers will be sympathetic towards. Once I got asked: why do you never join us after class? Why are you always so quiet when you're not working? As a translator, you are always working. Every time you speak, you are working; what you choose to say, and what you choose to not say, and where you choose to intervene. You are building relationships, and disappearing, and you are becoming invisible, and you're a nothing, and you're everyone and you're nobody and nobody realises you are doing anything more than translating at all.
I wanted to stay. I couldn't have stayed. I wanted to be accepted as one of them. I wanted to be accepted for who I was. That means a foreigner. I wanted to be true to myself, which means that I would always be the Foreigner, which means I would always be apart from them. It is that contrast and juxtaposition which causes the grief. And there was never an ending to it, a resolution, a chance to reconcile myself (in China) with myself (in the UK), because all at once I had to leave. The grief comes most from the second arrow - not the pain of leaving, but the bewilderment of not knowing why I was in pain at all.
It's been eight months. Slowly, as spring comes, I feel like I am on surer ground. I can look at my old books, those painstaking notes, and I could look at new ones too and I'm starting to think, because this is what I tell my students, and maybe there's some truth in it - it's okay if you're not perfect. It's okay if you didn't achieve what you wanted to, and that the language - in its wholeness, and who can ever know that? - will never, not quite, be yours. It's the struggle and the process that means that I will know and understand Chinese in a different way, in my own way, in a slanted-to-reality sort of way, that is a treasure in and of itself. There is beauty in its brokenness too.
And there is sorrow, too. The sorrow that comes with easing yourself into a different life, and it holding you gently for a while. I sat there - I spoke to them. It's not only missing a place; it's missing a person you were, a stage of your life, for a time. It's knowing that a place has reached inside your ribs and taken root there - even if you don't return, you can never fully get rid of that again. You are two people now, with feet straddling two oceans. There are parts of you that loved and suffered and hated and grew in Chinese, not English. You can't explain that. You can't even begin. Sometimes - not often - you are a stranger in your own land. The poets spoke of that. In the age of fast travel, of the weekend break, we have forgotten the ways a place can burrow itself inside you, and find its own home.
It's not the same as the grief that someone Chinese will face. But it's still grief. I have put my life into Chinese. Maybe that is all it takes to grow love.
Now, I turn back to Chinese - as a foreigner, as Melissa, as myself. It's a bittersweet thing. I know that I cannot hold all of it. It will spill out, like the sun, and there is no way I can be that without losing myself and my history and my own green woods. But I think I am ready now. I am surer, and a little steadier on my feet.
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aurumacadicus · 2 days
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92 or 14 maybe? 🤔
Going with 14!
--
Prince Anthony was picking his feathers out again.
Steve wordlessly set his shield aside and walked over to grab his hands, yanking them down, away from his wings. "Your highness--"
"I know!" Prince Anthony exclaimed defensively. His wrists jerked in Steve's grip, though, back toward his wings, and he wilted under Steve's stern glare. "I know," he repeated miserably.
It broke Steve's heart, but he turned to grab the picking glove, and while Prince Anthony obediently stuck his hands in so the mouth could be cinched tight around his wrists, he couldn't help but think it wasn't fair. Maybe Prince Anthony wouldn't be picking himself bald if he didn't have to choose a suitor in the next three days.
Prince Anthony had always been put off by the cock parties, as he'd called them--"cockerel balls" had always seemed to lend a layer of refinement to them that they didn't deserve, he'd said. Mostly, it was young cocks approaching and trying to impress prospective hens, and as Prince Anthony had a sizeable fortune behind him, he'd been the one most flocked to. It had made him suspicious, nervous even, of anyone's attention. Steve had watched, heart sinking with every ball, as grabby kids who barely knew what to do with a cloaca fawned all over Prince Anthony for the chance at his wing in matrimony.
It had given him nothing but a dim view on mating parties and cocks in general, which was probably why he'd gotten away with his secret for so long. He was so visibly disgusted after each cockerel ball that everyone assumed even if he was pregnant, he'd get rid of it as quickly as possible. Only when the rumors about his sudden cravings for sardines and almonds got loud enough to reach the royal court did it become necessary for Prince Anthony to undergo medical examination. And, well, when it was found to be true, that a royal hatchling was on the way, an unwed, pregnant royal was deemed a hazard to... what was it they had said? Public decency and the dignity of the crown?
Either way, it meant that another cockerel ball had been set up as quickly as possible, and Prince Anthony no longer had the choice of saying no to all comers if he wanted to keep his financial backing, even if he plucked himself bare in the meantime.
Steve watched Prince Anthony begin to pace, feeling helpless. His prince was in trouble, and he could do nothing of import to stop it. Prince Anthony looked like a caged animal as he walked up and down the carpet. He wasn't even showing yet. Was the palace hoping to get him wed immediately and lie about the hatchling being early? Someone would be bound to talk. That's what had started this mess, after all.
"I suppose," Prince Anthony began, voice halting and pained as he turned to pace in front of the window, obviously hoping the sun's rays would help him feel better. "That Lady Pepper is. Nice enough. Could pass the egg off as hers if we married."
"I suppose," Steve agreed, hoping he sounded noncommittal instead of just bitter.
"Or. Or that kind--Bruce? I think?"
"The alchemist Bruce was very kind," Steve answered with a nod.
"Or I could... I could just..." Prince Anthony stopped in front of the window, staring outside. Then, as quickly as he stopped, he turned around, eyes wide and beseeching. "Run away with me."
Steve's mouth dropped open in shock. He blinked at Prince Anthony slowly, unable to comprehend what he'd just been asked. Prince Anthony was a well-loved public figure, and while Steve was famous for his work in the war, he'd never been... someone people wanted to see running the country. In fact, if anyone ever found out that he was the one who had henned the heir apparent, he likely wouldn't be able to see him again. Prince Anthony was royalty. Steve had clawed his way up from the streets. He was only Prince Anthony's personal guard because there had been several attempts on his life, and Steve was the best at what he did.
"Run... away...?" Steve finally repeated, still not quite believing it.
"I'm just a figurehead for this stupid country," Tony spat, hope giving way to anger. "They only kept royalty on as a tradition they didn't know how to quit, as a show. I don't have any real power. And that's how they can bully me into getting married, picking a cock I don't even like all that much to be the legitimate father of my egg--So. So let's run away."
There were many reasons why Steve should say no. The country loved Prince Anthony, for one--he was only behind his late mother in terms of charity, and was quickly gaining on her record; despite the fact that he had no real power, he always did his best to influence parliament to vote in favor of the people; and the whole country had collectively swooned when a tabloid had leaked a picture of him holding a baby at the hospital with the quote 'babies need to be held' splashed under it. Steve was a nobody, come up from nothing, and most people did not have good things to say about him coming up from nothing because of the war.
Prince Anthony's gaze was steady, though, when Steve met his eyes. He was certain of his decision. That was one of the things Steve liked about him--he knew what he wanted, and if he could get it, he eagerly went through with it. And if he couldn't get it, he was a gracious loser.
"Your highness," Steve began with a sigh.
"I don't care if we're poor," Prince Anthony continued before he could voice his dissent, the determination in his voice making Steve's mouth snap shut in surprise. "You'll take care of us. And I--I have an education. I can get a job to help. You helped make this egg," he added sharply. "Are you refusing to take responsibility? And could you really just let someone else raise your chick?"
If he told himself it was for the better, to make sure the chick got everything it needed or wanted, he probably could. Prince Anthony would love it enough for the both of them, even if his new spouse only tolerated the chick. It wasn't ideal, but then, neither was getting Tony laden with egg before marriage. A marriage that couldn't happen because of who he was and who Prince Anthony had turned out to be. Steve opened his mouth to tell him in no uncertain terms that he would not be taking the spot from a more deserving rooster.
But he didn't want to. And Tony was clearly showing he didn't want to either. So he looked up at Tony and nodded sharply. "Alright, Tony."
"Tony," he repeated in a whisper, shocked. Steve only ever called him that in bed; he needed the separation of work and intimacy, and it helped to remind Tony, too, that he couldn't reach out and touch whenever he wanted. Steve watched as Tony's mouth spread into a wide smile as he lunged toward him, hooking his bound hands behind Steve's neck and pulling him down for an overjoyed kiss just bordering on desperation. Apparently, eschewing his proper name was all the real confirmation he needed of Steve's feelings.
Steve threw his wings up in a mating display just to make sure there was no misunderstanding.
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yanteetle · 11 hours
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Omg i just saw the pic of f!raph with a little baby and it is making me think of yan turtles with baby fever
I like to think that the turtles would ONLY get baby fever when they're much older, and they've actually interacted with kids before. This would make more sense during the bad! future timeline,
but I imagine that in the good! future, April gets married (to whoever I don't really care) and ends up having a kid, whether by adoption or pregnancy. Anyway, she's obligated to bring the child to the lair as requested by the turtles, and they basically get to raise said child alongside April and her partner.
(I read a bayverse fic where April needed the turtle's help to take care of her kid because apparently her infant was a demon child. Safe to say, I was heavily inspired)
And somewhere along the line, the turtles slowly get baby fever. One by one, they're charmed by the infant and slowly want one of their own. How they obtain one is really up for imagination, but if you're one of their partners during that point in time, best keep in mind that you should run tf away 🫶.
I imagine Donnie to be the last to get baby fever, knowing how busy he is with his tech and ignoring everyone else in his life. If anything, he might cope by making a little sister for shelldon and coding the bot to be more childish and playful just so he could fill the void. Hell, he might even make the bot to call you mom/dad too.
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felicjana050896 · 3 days
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A few words about Charlastor
Today I saw this post:
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(Sorry, I can't post the link, Twitter doesn't want to work on my computer today :\ )
I will quote it here because it made me think again:
Currently, the closest person to Charlie is Vaggie, while Alastor invades her space, Vaggie and Alastor are opposed to each other, Vaggie wants to run a hotel for Charlie (her whole life is based on Charlie...), while Alastor has his own reasons (more on which later we don't fully know) and the two are portrayed as opposing forces pulling Charlie, Vaggie in one direction and Alastor in the other. Charlie's relationship with Alastor will deepen in future seasons (which the author wrote about, that Alastor and Charlie are the main characters of HH and what we see after the pilot), thus distancing it from Vaggie, which we see already in the first season (and what I wrote posts about ), that Charlie's relationship with Vaggie will surely deteriorate as it goes on, their quarrel over Vaggie's lie was, in my opinion, just the first glitch in their relationship (although not very well written in my opinion anyway), at some point in the story Charlie will had to choose between Vaggie and Alastor (and Niffty):
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And considering the other screenshots, they are either forshadowings only to the fact that in future seasons Charlie will be getting closer to Alastor and away from Vaggie, or they may generally herald Alastor's victory over Vaggie, it depends, they are definitely confirmation that the further the seasons, the more Charlostor's content we will have than Chaggie's, the only question is which one will be the endgame?
Alastor stealing Charlie:
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Significant bed scene, Vaggie wakes up without Charlie, alone, and Charlie is later in bed with Alastor on a heart-shaped pillow:
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Besides, I read about Zoophobia and old sketches of Alastor and Autumn, and in my opinion Autumn reminds me a bit of Charlie... but in order.... First, let's go to Roo or Eve (if you prefer), well, I saw one Tik Tok and I definitely agree with it:
Charlie actually resembles Eve much more than Lilith, it always surprised me that Charlie has more father-like features both in appearance and character, and has none of Lilith's (especially when it comes to her ahem... physical qualities...), but I thought they just made her a typical "daddy's girl" and that's it... but if Eve is Charlie's mother and not Lilith..., we still had Lucifer's comment that he stole from Adam both wives, both Lilith and Eve, and although he married Lilith, he probably slept with Eve..., then the only question arises: why did Lilith decide to raise a child that was not her own?
Roo (Eve):
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Charlie:
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Lilith:
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Lucifer:
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Charlie and Eve (Roo) have exactly the same nose, the same lines under their eyes (Charlie in his demonic form has them) and the body sharp is the same, Lucifer by the way does not have a nose (:D), Lilith has a completely different nose, only Eve's nose matches Charlie's....
Moving on, we know that Alastor made a deal with someone, many people speculate that he made it with Lilith, but there are also people who believe that with Roo and I, although I also considered Lilith at the beginning, it was thrown in our faces this 7-year break (that Lilith has not been in Hell for 7 years and Alastor disappeared for 7 years), seems too obvious..., moreover, we know that Lilith had a contract with Adam (end of episode 8), and Adam did not know Alastor, so how could Alastor have an agreement with Lilith and be with her for these 7 years in heaven, if Adam didn't know him at all..., while Roo..., and this is where the issue of Zoophobia begins, i.e. Viv's first idea, where most of the HH characters came from:
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In Zoophobia we had the so-called KayCee, i.e. chaos itself and the main antagonist, interestingly KayCee liked apples (a reference to Eve and her picking an apple from the Garden of Eden, the first sin?):
KayCee had white hair, horns, and the original Alastor was in love with her:
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So KayCee is nothing other than the prototype of Eve.
Moving on, the original Alastor was also obsessed with Autumn, the character of Zoophobia, a blonde deer:
Autumn is a very helpful and good-hearted character and: ,,Although outwardly he appears mature and rational, in reality he is extremely insecure, suffering from low self-esteem. Autumn continues to seek recognition and thanks from others for a little help from him, showing that he needs the appreciation of others. Autumn is also very sensitive and short-tempered: in the webcomic, when Rusty teases him about the little antlers, Autumn explodes in anger and violently scolds him."
Doesn't this in some way resemble the description of Charlie..., a girl with a good heart, wanting to help everyone, and also sometimes quick-tempered (when, for example, heaven rejects her or when Susan pisses her off :D )
So we have Eve, who used to be KayCee, and Charlie, who has a lot of Autumn in her, and if it turns out that Charlie is actually Eve's daughter, Charlie will be a combination of KayCee and Autumn, considering her appearance and character traits are taken from both, two characters that the original Alastor was crazy about ;)
And finally, some shots of Charlie and Alastor:
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And remember about Niffty and KeeKee, they are very important, after all they are in the HH logo :)
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KeeKee, a pet belonging to Charlie and Niffty, Alastor's ,,pet" ;)
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Sorry for the long post again, but I just can't keep it short :D
Thank you for reading and have a nice day, evening or night :)
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crzyimp · 22 hours
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AITA for not wanting to divorce my wife when my in-laws are racist and fat phobic about it?
I’m(M) recently married to my(F) wife. For some context, I’ve known this family for roughly 3 years and worked for them; I never complained about the hard labor or long hours, hell I did the work of 3 men or more without breaking a sweat! I’m very self conscious about my looks and weight, so I glamorize myself and sometimes use a wrap to make myself thin. It hurts sometimes, but it’s better than being stared at or comments thrown at me. Now my in-laws, let's call them Mr. and Mrs. G, are big on tradition about passing the family business to a son, but they only have daughters and the oldest two are already married, and they can’t find a guy who will give up his surname for theirs (I can’t blame them, I haven’t met a guy who’s willing to do that). Anyways during those three years I’ve gotten to know Mr. and Mrs. G’s youngest daughter and currently my wife, Cui.
Sweetest, nicest girl I ever met and we hit it off without a hitch, she’s everything I wished for in a wife. She knows the ins and out of how to run her family business, but Mr. G refuses to just let her take over unless she’s married to a man who can take their surname…well after she told me that I said I can be her husband since I’m technically an orphan and I don’t have any attachments to the surname given to me. Originally it was going to be more of a business relationship or front until she can find someone she can love, especially how I actually look, and I told her that. Cui thought that was sweet of me. So we talked to her parents together and they gave their blessing once they learned I’m an orphan.
Wedding planning, preparations, and the actual wedding was nice but very stressful; I didn’t have much time to myself and decompress as my in-laws wanted my attention 24/7. I can feel my glamor smearing off and the wraps digging into my skin to the point it’s cutting into my skin. Though during the wedding I can’t just walk away for a moment to be alone and I don’t want to disappoint Cui, so I bear through the ceremony and during the reception I drink to get my mind off the pain and my insecurities. Now I may be an asshole here since I drank way too much and I haven’t had a drink in 3ish years, so I get more drunk than I wanted and got way too relaxed…where I took off the wraps under my clothes and my glam is off.
All hell broke loose, as if a hungry ghost or one of the kings was there! People were screaming about a fatass pig demon crashing the party and I was ready to throw this asshole out until Cui, my sweet wife, told me that they were talking about me. Still drunk and now shocked, I bawled my eyes out and ran out of the room, accidentally knocking stuff and people over on the way out. Cui followed after me to make sure I’m okay.
Ever since that, her parents bully and pick on me about my appearance and my weight, telling me I’m a fatso that doesn’t have the right to be part of their family, saying I stink up the place (I’m still working hard to support the business and during the hot summers I can’t help but sweat), to how much I eat (again it’s hard work and I do eat to cope from the abuse), to how they never see Cui anymore (she locked up in our house and I have the key so her parents can’t have surprise visits and abuse me more), to how I should go back to where I came from (and other racist remarks, but I don’t want to be flagged by the mods). They even hired thugs to get me to divorce Cui! Thugs who try to chase me out of my own home and wife! Thankfully I had years of experience in combat, and so far none bested me. Though their words are starting to get to me and that’s why I’m here asking you guys. Am I the asshole?
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hii!! I love your hcs 💗💗
may I request naoto tachibana x fem!reader?
this has been rotting in my head for the longest time ever: so in the series, naoto said that his memory gets overwritten when a new timeline is created. so I was thinking imagine fem!reader who he loves, but every timeline she is always somewhere else, further away from him. so maybe after seeing the outcome of his sister's fate and discussing with takemichi when a new timeline is created, he also checks on fem!reader. one timeline she'd be living in another city, one timeline she'd not even remember him, and what if there's one where she is part of a criminal organization, tasked to kill naoto. what is the outcome gonna be? is she gonna be able to complete her task? or will she end up falling for him in the process?
THIS IS ALL I CAN THINK OF FOR WEEKS 😭😭 sorry it's quite long omg thank you and have a great day!! 💖💖
Ahh that actually sounds really cool! I kinda came up with this for it (it ends on a bit of a cliffhanger though)
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You're always on his mind, everytime the timeline gets rewritten there are three things he does. 1. Check to see if his sister is alive 2. Find Takemichi and 3. Find you.
He knows he shouldn't be focused on you, that he should concentrate on saving his sister. But he can't help it, you won't leave his mind. He loves you.
Of course Takemichi only encourages this, always telling him to go after you and find you. And so that's what he does in every timeline. 
In the first timeline that he can remember, you were his neighbour. It was funny how that had worked out, the two of you attending the same school as kids then living in the same building as each other as adults. He didn't really talk to you much but you were always so kind to him. Helping him out here and there, always smiling at him. 
The second timeline was the one that really changed things for him though. He wasn't expecting to find a ring on his finger or a wife waiting for him. He didn't know what to think at first but he fell hard and quickly for you, his wife. You were just so understanding and loving towards him, even when he was out late with Takemichi trying to figure things out. He liked your company before but now he loved you and of course he wanted to keep you. Something that he would end up aiming for in every timeline.
He isn't so lucky in the third timeline, the two of you were married again so of course you were also dragged along by Takemichi as "moral support" for seeing Hina. Which lead to all four of you being in the car, he had to run off for work but he thought you would be safe. He didn't think you.....                        you and Hina were chatting in the car and waiting for Takemichi when Akkun drove into the car. You were killed instantly from the collision, leaving Naoto to organise your funeral as well as his sister's. He swore he wouldn't let something like that happen again to you after that day. 
In the fourth timeline you weren't around at all, Naoto searched and searched but couldn't find you not anywhere. It wasn't until he was searching through some old stuff of his that he vaguely remembered you leaving to study and work abroad after finishing school. He hated that you weren't around but was also somewhat relieved. With him working with Kazutora and Chifuyu he was putting himself in a lot of danger, he didn't want you to be at risk too. He vowed to find you in the next timeline though, in the safer one. 
He was wrong though, this timeline wasn't safer and he didn't find you, you found him. He knew he would be a target after shooting Mikey but he wasn't expecting you to come after him. He's not sure how you got mixed up with Kisaki and Izana but it's clear you worked for them and had no idea who he was or once was to you. 
You'd been tailing him for weeks, following him around and observing him. Of course he'd noticed you immediately but said nothing. Instead he smiled at you each time your gazes met, the same way you had smiled at him in the very first timeline. You didn't smile back this time though, each time you would turn away or go back to pretending to just be a normal person who just so happened to be near him. 
Until that one evening, he was at home trying to finish off a report when he thought he heard something behind him. He was too slow to react though, you were immediately on top of him, restraining him and searching for hidden weapons. He only watched you, didn't even try to struggle against your tight grip. You pointed the gun at his head and he closed his eyes. You hesitated, something deep down telling you to not kill this guy. You didn't really know him, you'd just watched him a few weeks but you couldn't do it. Something was stopping you so the shot never rang out. When Naoto opened his eyes again you were gone, leaving his apartment as stealthily as you came in. 
He searched for you so hard after that but nothing, it's like you had disappeared. He didn't get to see you again there but you saw him one last time. After raiding the club with Koko and Inui you came out to see two bodies lying still on the floor. Closing the detectives eyes for him, you wondered why you were crying
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jjsstars · 3 days
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stancyweek2024: day 6, au’s
|| for @echoing-oursong event
|| tags: college au! + engaged au!
“How much longer do you think we should wait to tell everyone we’re engaged?” Nancy turns onto her stomach on the bed beside Steve, placing her chin on his chest and grinning when he wiggles his eyebrows at her.
“Mm I was thinking we tell them the night of the wedding.” He tries to sound serious while saying it but Nancy just gives him an unimpressed look despite her smirk.
“No way, my mom would kill me. Maybe we should have a big dinner and get it over with all at once?” Hopefully then they’ll avoid the inevitable arguments about who they told first being their favorite- Steve already had to restrain himself from telling Robin before he even proposed.
“That works, but we can’t fit everyone in here.” Steve’s eyes track around the studio apartment they have, there’s no way they’d even be able to fit just the party in here never mind all the other people too.
“We can bring Chestnut down to Joyce’s place.” The dog that’s currently curled up at Steve’s feet doesn’t move an inch hearing his name. It might’ve been a slightly impulse and irresponsible decision to buy a dog while they’re both still in college and only have this apartment as their house but the couple couldn’t resist seeing the box of five dollar puppies in the window of the pet store. They’re not immune to puppy dog eyes, sue them.
“Hopper will love that.” The chief isn’t the biggest dog person after fighting one too many demadogs.
“Okay then Eddie and Robin’s place.” Those two living together in a trailer across from Wayne’s has got to be absolute chaos and Steve would be lying if he didn’t say he wasn’t a small bit glad to miss it. He likes how peaceful and tranquil him and Nancy living together has been.
“Won’t Karen be mad we aren’t staying at hers?” Nancy grimaces at the thought of bringing Steve to the Wheeler household for an extended stay, one night is plenty family time for her and she grew up there.
“What about your old house? Doesn’t your dad still own it?” About the only time Steve hears from his father is to check if the house is still standing and if the electric bill has gone up, Steve isn’t even sure if he knows that Steve moved all the way to New York and hasn’t stepped foot in that house in over a year.
“He has cleaners come every week but other than that it’s empty so… we could crash there.” They could live there if they really wanted.
“Perfect. We can have dinner at my parents, break the news, then run back to your house when they all get too much.” Wedding planning is going to be an entire thing, Nancy can feel it, between Joyce and Karen and then Robin, El, and Max, it’ll be a long process.
“We’re only staying a week, how bad can it get?” The second it leaves Steve’s mouth he regrets it, he loves all of them to death but sometimes all of them at once can get to be too much, even for him.
“Don’t jinx us. We still have to tell them we want to get married outside and not in a church, my mom might break down.” Steve laughs lightly and brushes his hand through Nancy’s hair to move it away from her face.
“Hey we could elope right here in New York and really shock them.”
“That might cause another ‘earthquake’ in Hawkins.”
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u and @sevendurst
….also when’s the wedding 4 y’all? i call being bridesmaid
i don’t know if we will actually have a wedding. i want to have a shotgun wedding where we run away together and get married in a creepy motel but it’s completely up to her
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booasaur · 1 year
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Willow (2022) - 1x01 - “She'll feel like I'm abandoning her when she needs me the most.”
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socialbunny · 11 months
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👇🏽👇🏽👇🏽some of my skipy lore in the tags i was supposed to bridge it with something else but i forgot what i wanted to say 😭
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