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gloriafc · 4 years

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Amazing Wife

Jack never expected to let anyone close to his heart, until he met you. You had it the instant he laid his eyes on you.

You're a surgeon, a prodigy attending. You're friends with Miranda and Ben, when she was grumbling under her breath you asked her what was wrong, "Ben forgot to grab his lunch, so now I have to cancel my meeting to take it to him." "I can take it. My shift is almost over. I'm just finishing my paperwork."

You walked into the firehouse and Jack instantly walked over towards you with his charm on. "Can I help you with something?" "I'm just looking for Ben. He forgot his lunch." As soon as you finish your sentence Ben rounds the corner, "Prodigy! What brings you here?" You quickly toss the lunch box to him, "You stressing your wife out." Jack watches the two of you interact a little jealous of Ben for the moment. He instantly perks up when he hears Ben offer you a tour of the place, "Alright. I'll bite, only if theres coffee involved."

When you get to the end of the tour Ben shows you the kitchen where almost everyone is waiting for the girl they noticed instantly caught Jack's attention. They attempt to get to know you, not expecting you to be a super human. "Why does Ben call you prodigy?" "I sort of am. I specialize in multiple areas of surgery. Fetal, peds, gynecology, neuro, and plastics."

It takes Jack a few weeks of begging to get Ben to invite to one of their outings after work. Ben gets Miranda to agree to bring you drinking with everyone.

That night Jack manages to get your number, Ben eventually telling him he couldve just asked him for her number, "But what's the fun in that without the chase."

After a few months you begin dating. And Jack doesnt know how to explain it, but dating you is different than all the other woman hes dated before you. Eventually he figures it's because you're way out of his league, but soon realizes it's because you are different from ever single woman hes dated.

He can see how other men look at you, you're young and successful, and you're hot, what couldn't they want? And normally he'd get jealous but he trusts you with his life. The times he does get jealous or you look like you're getting uncomfortable he'll grab you by your hip and pull you close and he'll refuse to let you go for the rest of the night.

After a few years you get married and he finally knows what it's like to have a family of his own, even if it's just the two of you. You manage to talk him into considering getting a cat. And as much as he hates the idea, and hates how much the cat takes up all of your attention he'd get you another one if you asked.

After being married for two years you find out you're pregnant and at first Jack doesnt know how to feel, he doesnt want to end up like the parents hes never met. But you eventually ease him into the idea and then he couldn't be happier especially when you start to show. He's slightly upset he can't lay his head on your stomach as you watch tv anymore, but he's settled for drawing random shapes on your belly and watching the random movements from your child.

Jack is amazed when hes able to feel the baby kick. He goes as far as feeling it at least once a day minimum, if his hands could permanently stayon your stomach they would.

One day the two of you go separate ways, he heads off to work as you take advantage of your day off and decide to run some errands.

When he gets a call hes talking to Dean about random things like always. When they show up at the scene they get the rundown about the scene. "Three car accident, the last cars brakes failed as they were going down the hill. It rammed into the back of a parked car, that pushed it forward. There was a person walking between the second car and the one in front of it, squishing them." Jack looks at the scene and instantly recognizes your car as the one squished in the middle. Dean does as well and instantly tries to hold Jack back, "Jack you need to calm down." "CALM DOWN! THAT'S MY WIFE AND MY CHILD!" "Hey I get that. But the call says only one person was injured besides the driver." Jack freezes seeing you pop up on the side and start looking at the person stuck between the cars.

Before you realize what's happening you're trapped in two arms, and after a few seconds you realize its Jack from his cologne. You understand immediately what he was thinking and instantly start soothing him, "We're okay. I was inside using the bathroom when it happened okay?" After a few moments Jack's back in action. You get told to stay off to the side because of any fumes that may have been released from the cars. You watch everything happen until the person starts to seize.

You quickly grab a mask and a pair of gloves before climbing over your car and climbing behind the patient. "Y/N get down." "You're pregnant." "That's not safe." "Are any of you a neuro surgeon? This person will continue to seize unless you relieve the pressure in his head, can any of you do burr holes?" When no one answers you continue, "Then I suggest you listen to the pregnant person and get me a drill."

Ben assists you, being the only person with surgical experience, as you do the burr holes. Everyone watches you in amazement as the patient slowly stops to seize as the blood build up is released. You stay behind the person, using your lap as a head rest as they start to move the car off of him. Jack makes you take his jacket when they have to bring out the saw, which gets him scolded at but he could care less, as long as he's keeping you safe. Everyone listens as you talk to the person, keeping him calm. "You two must be married." "What makes you say that?" You laugh when Ben jokes, "Their playful banter?" The guy chuckles as he mindlessly stares at the trees around him, "That's how I was when my wife was pregnant with our first child." You keep the man talking when he sucks in a breath, "How many kids do you have?" "Four. How'd you learn to do that?"

You smile at the man who's referencing to the burr holes you did. "I'm a surgeon at Grey Sloan. Neuro is one of my practices. One of the first things I learned as an intern actually." "Just one of your practices?" You let out a chuckle, "I like working with kids, so I took up pediatrics, then came fetal because why wouldn't a pediatric surgeon know how to fix a baby while it's still in the womb. Then gynecology because I might as well know how to deliver a baby. And finally plastics. Youd be surprised how many kids go through plastic surgery, especially disabled kids." The guy looks at you surprised, the fact that hes literally in a sandwich completely forgotten, "What made you decide to do all that? How'd you manage that?" You chuckle, "Grey Sloan has an amazing program and I jumped at the opportunity. It's sort of what happens when you get told you'd never be able to do something amazing. You prove people wrong and you go above and beyond." "Who told you that?" You let out a chuckle, "An ex actually. My dad wasn't too happy about that one." "What'd he do?" "My mom had to pick him up from jail for smashing every single window on the guys car."

Jack jumps in, "Her moms the one to be scared of though." You let out a laugh as the guy says, "Its always the mom. My wife would murder for our kids." You let out a laugh making the guy smile.

You ride in the ambulance, being one of the only people who'd be able to stabilize the man if he were to start seizing again, and your ride home completely totaled now. When the guy is taken away for surgery Jack bugs Miranda until she agrees to look you over, "Jack I wasnt even in the accident." "You were near it, the fumes and stress cant be good for the baby." Bailey smiles as the two of you go back and forth, "Y/N just lay on the table. You're both stubborn and we'll be here all day if no one stops you two." You give in and lay on the table as she does an ultrasound, the rest of the firehouse watch from the window in amazement as they see the baby on the small screen and they all couldn't be happier that Jack finally got his own family while they also get a niece or nephew, neither of you telling them what you're having just yet.

When the fire station has to leave Miranda is the one who offers to take you home if you're willing to wait for thirty minutes. You make dinner, Jack getting home right on time then you both continue your nights like you usually do. When it's starting to get late you find Jack looking at his laptop, eyebrows furrowed. "What's got you thinking so hard over here?" You come up behind him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and resting your chin on his right shoulder. "Cars? Really?" "We're going to have to replace the one that got totaled today." "Not one with... Military grade metal? Why dont you just look for tanks on sale?" "You think they have room for carseats?" You hit his arm at his joke making him laugh.

You end up going past your due date, so now it's just a waiting game for you both. As Jack is getting ready to go into work, knowing he can't sit still at all, especiallywhen hes so anxious to meet his kid, he finds you in the kitchen hunched over with your eyes closed and face twisted in pain. He immediately starts to rush over but almost slips, he sees the puddle of water on the ground and looks around confused. When he sees the wet spot on your pants it hits him. "When did your water break? We need to get you to the hospital now." You let out a groan when he tries to help you stand up straight, "When you started coming down the stairs."

Jack helps you to the car, before starting to speed his way to the hospital. He calls Sullivan on the way there, "I wont be there today. Y/Ns water broke.... shit. I forgot the hospital bag." You smile in your seat and between breaths say, "It's fine. There's. One in. My locker. Bailey has one. In her. Office. Too."

Jo and Meredith are the ones to see you enter the hospital, both immediately knowing what's happening, "Jo page Carina and get the hospital bag from her locker. I'll take her to the delivery floor."

You're in labor for most of the day, your friends stop by through the day to check on you and give their congratulations. Jack is by your side the whole time, he's a nervous wreck honestly but hes managed to stay calm until you have to start pushing. By dinner time you've welcomed a baby boy, who has very healthy lungs. Your room is filled with balloons from your friends, as you both sit watching the sleeping boy.

Before the night can end you look at the doorway where the firehouse is standing with even more balloons, along with flowers and what smells like stew. "Hey." Dean is the first to push into the room, he quickly hands you the tupperware of stew before turning to his best friend, "Where is my nephew?"

Everyone gives their congratulations as your son is passed around, "What's his name?" Jack immediately says, "Jack jr." You simply roll your eyes and shake your head before looking at the boy who's now in your arms, "Its Jaxon. With an x. Cant let Jack's ego get too big now."

When everyone is gone and it's just your small family in the room you happily lay next to Jack, now able to press your face into his neck without a giant belly in the way. As you're falling asleep you hear Jack say, "Did we really have a baby today?" You smile and kiss his neck, "We became parents today. You became a dad." You chuckle when you hear Jack huff, "That's going to take some time to get used to." "You'll be fine. We have eighteen years to get it right."

#jack gibson #station 19 #station 19 imagine #jack gibson imagine

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 3 years

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A Miraculous TikTok Account

Part 30

First

It wasn’t until she was at work that Ladybug had seen the video.

Sure, she’d felt the familiar buzz of her phone in her pocket. She assumed it was telling her that one of her housemates had uploaded a video to TikTok, but she hadn’t thought much of it. It was Chat’s usual upload time. And, yeah, she definitely intended to watch Chat’s video at some point. It was bound to be some cute animal. But she was at work, so...

Then, to her surprise, her phone continued to buzz. Nino, probably, she didn’t know many other people she still talked to consistently and he had no reservations about double texting (or triple texting, or quadruple texting, or --).

She needed to hold off until she was done with her meeting with the Tsurugis. They were choosing their outfits for some kind of gala that Gabriel Agreste was going to be holding for the holidays.

(She gave very few clients the option of choosing between multiple designs, really. They were only going to choose one so the others would likely be scrapped, so she usually did one and then either took their critiques or went back to the designing phase… but the Tsurugis honestly kind of scared her so...)

As the two looked over their choices, she began to get curious.

She asked if she could take a call and, once they said that it would be alright, she slipped outside. She made sure she was a little bit away before leaning against the wall and pulling out her phone.

Obviously she wasn’t ACTUALLY going to call, it’s not the dark ages, but she did check her texts.

As she suspected, it was Nino.

Ninomorepuns: hey

Ninomorepuns: poppet

Ninomorepuns: hey poppet

Ninomorepuns: hey

Poppet: WHAT

Ninomorepuns: oh shit it worked

Poppet: I was at work what the duck do you want

Poppet: *fuck

Ninomorepuns: duck

Poppet: stfu. just tell me what you want I’m still at work and I need to go back soon

Ninomorepuns: did you see the new tiktok chat noir uploaded

She clicked her tongue irritably. Really? This was about the TikTok account? Sure, she could expect this from someone like Rena, but Nino?

Ninomorepuns: i think youd be interested in it since it has your gf in it

When did she get a girlfriend? And why wasn’t she told --?

Oh, wait. Right. She’d told Nino that she had a crush on Ladybug once to explain why she was running towards akumas instead of away from them.

An embarrassed blush spread across her face at the memory. She should have thought of a better lie --.

Wait, fuck, SHE was Ladybug. Chat had uploaded something about her?!

She pulled up Chat’s account.

Her eyes narrowed in on the fact that the thumbnail for his newest video was a black screen instead of the usual still frame of the animal of the day. She clicked on it…

Chat’s breathing was heavy. The bright green captions on the black screen read “Thought someone was in the house :(!”

And then there was the flick of the lightswitch. The camera went pure white as it attempted to adjust to the sudden light… and then she saw herself. In her Totoro onesie. Eating the abomination that she was still regretting hours later.

She closed out of the app. She knew what had happened next, after all.

She swallowed thickly, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes despite her best attempts. Kwami, the internet was going to have a field day. The hard edges of her phone case dug into her hand.

She wanted, so badly, to just go back to the way things were. When she didn’t have to care about her image, when she didn’t have to think about how people would react to the smallest of mistakes. That few month gap between Paon and Hawkmoth hadn’t even been enough for her to appreciate it, and she’d only been around twelve at the time, but kwami did she miss it. When mistakes were just mistakes and she was just a kid...

A ragged gasp escaped her throat and she slowly slid down the wall.

She let her phone hit the ground and brought her hands to her hair, squeezing her eyes shut. How do you breathe again? Her throat was too clogged with tears for her to even remember what it was like to breathe normally.

She felt a tiny hand on her cheek and slowly creaked her eyes open. Tikki was hovering in front of her. The kwami was breathing (or at least making a sound similar to it). Ladybug matched the pace as best she could, forcing all thoughts that weren’t remembering how to breathe out of her head.

After a moment, she managed to bring her breathing to normal.

She gave the kwami a weak smile and nuzzled her face against her.

“Thanks, Tikki,” she murmured.

It sucked, but she couldn’t afford to be like this at the moment. As far as she knew, there hadn’t been an akuma yet that day so she needed to keep everything in check.

There would probably be an akuma by the time she got home, at least, so she could feel free to get mad or panic once that happened. Did she really know what she was going to do? Not really. She’d probably figure it out by then, though.

She looked back at her phone and then pulled up her chat with Nino again because, to him, she had just disappeared for no reason.

What would she normally say?

Poppet: wow. she’s an even bigger disaster than I am

Ninomorepuns: right lmao you might actually be the sensible one in the relationship

Poppet: stfu. I’ll kill you

Ninomorepuns: better not do it during an akuma or itll be fixed

Poppet: you right

Ninomorepuns: wait dont you still have work go away

She rolled her eyes a little and started typing a response along the lines of ‘you’re the one that distracted me from work in the first place’ but something pulled her attention away from her phone.

The doorknob jingled, there was a blur of black and red as Tikki dove to hide in her jacket pocket, and then Kagami was poking her head through.

“My mother and -- are you alright?”

Ladybug rubbed under her eyes to get rid of any stray tears. “Of course! Sorry, my friend just told a really good joke and I guess my laughter got away from me.” She pulled a bright smile to her face. “Are you and your mom done choosing?”

The woman in front of her didn’t seem to believe her, but she nodded shortly. She pushed herself to her feet, brushed herself off, and continued on with her day.

She pulled her mask on outside the door and the smile on her face was just a fraction too wide as she stepped inside.

“Rena,” she said, because she was the only person she saw in the living room.

She looked up from her phone and then tensed ever so slightly at the sight of a clearly pissed off Ladybug. “Bonjour,” she greeted carefully.

“Has anyone been akumatized yet today?”

“... yeah. It was the homeless guy on eighth and --.”

“Cool. Thanks.” She walked up a flight of stairs and raised her hand to knock on Chat’s door.

She stopped herself.

The conversation they’d had only yesterday rang in her ears.

One bad day away from akumatization. That’s what Master Fu had said. She pressed her lips together thinly. He’d been right, apparently, all it had taken for the emotional wall she’d built to crumble was for her persona to crack even slightly… sure, she had her reasons for why she was so upset that the public was now aware of the fact that she wasn’t who she said she was -- and the fact that it was because of Chat of all people didn’t help -- but she’d thought she was reasonably stable emotionally up until then...

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, resting her forehead against the cold wood of his door and trying her hardest to think.

The options were to suppress the emotions or address them. Suppressing them clearly wasn’t working as much anymore, but she only had about twelve to twenty-four hours to properly address them if she wanted to do that…

She hesitated.

Maybe if she addressed part of the feelings then she could suppress the rest. That would work, right?

She walked up to her room/attic and started making a plan.

By the end of the night, she’d finished writing it all out in the back of her sketchbook.

Glitter

Ruin that perfect motherfucker’s perfect skin and perfect hair

Glitter Part 2 Electric Boogaloo

Lull him into a false sense of security

Make him think he’s going insane

M u r d e r

It wasn’t a lot, only six parts, but she felt like she would probably be fine after part six.

(She’d better be, you can’t really get revenge on a dead person.)

Her problems with the people of Paris would still be there, but at least her problems with Chat would be over with.

She smiled at the plan. Yes, it was all coming together now.

~~~

Taglist

@nathleigh @sassakitty @th1s-1s-my-aesthet1c @blueslushgueen @woe-is-me0 @ladybug-182 @cas-and-their-refusal-to-write @trippingovermyfeet @melicmusicmagic @meimei3841 @roseliali

#a miraculous tiktok account #ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #carapace #nino lahiffe #chat noir #adrien agreste #rena rouge #alya cesaire #queen bee #chloe bourgeois #miraculous team #miraculous fic #ml fic #chloenette #chlonette #adrino

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problematicfavesareproblematic · 4 years

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The Inherent Risks of Loving a Wild Man

Bill Guarnere x Reader

Summary: Word about Bill Guarnere and the NCOs going to Sink reaches you, but by the time you hear it’s been so muddled with misinformation that you think he’s dead. After hearing another person saying that he’s alive, you are let with the awful task of waiting....

Warnings: no-no words (it’s hbo/war, kids. people gonna curse), allusions to sexy times, some vv lite sexy times™, angst (kinda)

William Guarnere was a dead man- that much you knew for sure.

The only thing you weren't sure of?

If he was going to die by Sink’s hand or yours.

Sink, you thought ruefully to yourself, throat feeling tight again as you had an intrusive mental image of Bill crumpling to the ground after the crack of a gun. Sink has no other choice, his hands are tied.

For probably the fiftieth time that evening, you walked over to the window in the in-law unit attached to the side of the house you’d been assigned to in England. You knew better than to expect any of the NCOs to go out of their way to tell you, not with the strict curfew Sobel has imposed on them after the idiot himself led Easy astray during a training exercise.

The grandfather of the family you were staying with had told you about it in passing after coming across Dick and some others after his morning bike ride. You’d tried not to openly criticize Sobel, but when the old man mentioned a flustered soldier yelling “high-oh silver!” as he arrived late (and from the wrong direction), you hadn’t been able to hide your scowl.

“He’s going to get us killed.” Bill had grumbled to you a few days ago, after telling you about yet another catastrophic day of training. “I swear to god, Y/n, that cow-eyed bastard couldn’t find his own dick in a well-lit room—”

“I get the picture, Bill. Please don’t ever make me think about Sobel’s dick ever again.”

He’d chuckled at that, pinning your arms above your head and looking down at you with a smug grin.

“I’m awful sorry about that, Miss Y/L/N. Let me make it up to you?”

He’d kissed the air from your lungs then, and any thoughts of Sobel or death were put on the back burner….

It just seemed horribly ironic now- Sobel really was going to be the thing that gets him killed, it just hadn’t happened as straightforwardly as youd anticipated.

Headlights suddenly blind you, and your blood runs cold as you recognize it as one of the airborne’s Jeeps.

It must be Nixon, he’d tell me. Whether i want to actually hear it or not.

Your throat feels tight as the truck pulls to a stop by the front garden, and you don’t realize you’ve been holding your breath until the figure that exits the car forgoes the direct footpath through the family’s garden, instead walking straight towards your window.

There’s only one person who does that, did that….

Throwing your window open, you stand on the desk beneath it and crawl out gracelessly, your limbs feeling disconnected from your body as you try to squash the painful hope trying to bubble in your chest.

The man stalks up to you, the light coming from your room illuminating the handsome, sharp, and perfectly alive face of Bill fucking Guarnere.

“Cara mia.”

He’s raised his hands to hold your face in his typical greeting kiss, that stupid grin bright on his face- as if he hadn’t been dead in your mind up until a few milliseconds ago.

So, it was to be you to kill him. Okay then.

You clapped him across the face, palm stinging as you watched his head snap to the side. In the low light, you could see a pink handprint on his cheek and feel a little bad for hitting him so hard.

Then you remember why you’d hit him in the first place, and you get over it.

“What in the actual fuck were you thinking, pulling that shit?”

Your voice is as sharp as your slap, slightly wavering as tears began to cloud your eyes.

“How could you even think about doing something so stupid, and not even bother to let me know…..and you don’t even say ‘goodbye’?”

He said nothing, his face still turned away and his jaw working as you tried your very best not to yell and wake everyone in the main house up.

You then surprise the both of you by bursting into tears, throwing your arms around his neck and sobbing so hard you forget to breathe.

His arms are quick to wrap around you, pulling you impossibly close and nosing affectionately by your ear.

“Hey, don’t cry….oh darlin’, please don’t cry,” the rumble of his voice only makes you cry harder, the sound so comforting and warm and essential, and for four horrible hours you’d tried to wrap your head around the fact that the man you loved was dead and you’d never get to hear that perfect voice again.

“I’m sorry, Y/n. I didn’t mean to make you cry—”

You pull away, glaring at him tearfully. “No? What part of you either leaving the airborne- and not telling me, or getting executed for mutiny- without bothering to say anything…..What part of either of those things breaking my fucking heart are you not getting, you stupid fucking idiot?”

You shake your head, only stopping when he unwraps his arms from around you and takes your face in his hands (as he’d intended to before you smacked him).

“Did you even think about what that would do to your mother? Or your father, for that matter—?”

“I’m sorry.” he interrupts you, and when you frown at him he sighs anxiously. “Fuck, baby….”

Seeing that you weren’t going to easily forgive him, Bill wipes at your tears with his thumbs and looks at you sadly.

After standing in tense silence for a few moments, Bill pulls you into another embrace- hands hot through the material of your thermal pajama top.

“I love you.” he mumbles.

A mournful scoff escapes your throat, and he squeezes you tighter.

“Hey, listen to me...” he turns his head so he can look you in the face. Your eyes showed your doubt, and you watched as he seemed to understand just how deeply he’d hurt you.

It was uncommon for either of you to voice your affection for the other and not get an immediate echoing response, the both of you having abandoned any sort of stoicism for the other during your time in one of the Carolinas.

His dark eyes are swirling with deep regret, and you don’t think you’ve ever actually seen him remorseful before. It was heartbreaking and heartwarming at the same time, seeing one of the cockiest men you knew looking at you as if you held the key to his happiness. His heart.

“I. Love. You.”

You close your eyes as he repeats the sentiment, unable to bear his intense look without wanting to start crying all over again.

“I didn’t think….well,” he cuts himself off, and when you peek at him you see that he’s nodding to himself. “Nah, that’s it. I just didn’t think. I just did because—”

“I’m not mad that you refused to follow an absolute moron into war...” you interrupt, watching as his brows furrow in confusion. You bring a hand up to wipe at the sticky tears drying on your cheeks. “Bill….losing you will kill me.”

He’s shaking his head now, whispering your name harshly. “Don’t say that—”

“I have to say it because it’s the truth. And if you love me a fraction as much as i love you, you probably already know that.”

With a tired sigh you bring your hands up to rub at his chilled ears, the cold air making your breath fog between you as you speak.

“But, I also know the reality of what’s about to happen- and I’ve made my peace with it as much as I can—” “Cara mia—”

“—because i know that i’ll at least get to see you once before we drop, before all the shit hits the fan, and I’ll get to tell you I love you..... and that if by some miracle we do both make it I’m going to marry you and then we’ll never have to do anything like this again.

“But you almost took that from me.” You swallow your sadness and rest your forehead against his. “Jesus, William….”

He kisses you sweetly, and you know he can also taste the salt of your tears as he does so. Bill’s hands are running up and down your back, following paths and trails he’d first mapped with his fingers the morning after the two of you had slept together the first time.

“Say it back,” he whispers between kisses. “I need to hear you say it back—”

“I love you.”

His hands suddenly stop, and he pulls back to look you over with a furrowed brow.

“Oh shit, darlin’, you’re barely wearing anything!” With commanding hands he turns you around and starts to march you back to your window. You had forgotten that you were just in your pajamas, feet still bare on the chilled ground.

When you climbed in he followed with silent movements, barely getting the window latched before he shirks off his outer few layers and is embracing you again, torso warm and inviting when you held him again.

“I’m gonna be pissed if you get sick, you know that right?”

He’s teasing you again, but his voice still is soft from emotion.

You smile and press a kiss to his cheek. “Yeah, Bill. I know….”

He turns his head before your next kiss lands on his cheek, resuming the sweet kiss from outside.

When you nibble at his bottom lip he groans softly, one hand knotting in your hair while the other one slid down to your backside and kneaded the supple flesh of your bottom with a hungry grip.

“You want some more, baby?” Bill’s voice has taken on a rough quality that never failed to make your heart beat faster and your stomach to curl sweetly. “Want me to show you how sorry I am?”

You shut him up with a kiss, knowing from experience that once Bill got talking like this there was only so much you could take before becoming a flustered and needy mess.

Bill takes the hint, only breaking away from you to quickly pull your shirt over your head before ducking right back in. the material of his button up is rough against your bare nipples, the peaks harder than stone ever since you’d first stepped out into the chilly night air.

His hands drew goosebumps across your back as he brushed his fingers up and down your spine, worshipping you in such a way that made all your teenage years of self-consciousness seem preposterous in hindsight.

“Fucking goddess,” he’d proclaimed once between hot open mouth kisses across your collarbones after you’d both come down from your third orgasm of the night. “If I had my way, you’d never have to cover a single goddamned inch of your body from me. Could fucking taste you whenever i wanted…”

When your hand cups him through his pants he hisses, laughing headily into your mouth.

“I’m still mad at you.” you say, pulling back so you can watch his face scrunch up attractively as you massage his stiffness.

He nods, eyes closed as his jaw goes slack. You can’t help but feel somewhat smug at being able to elicit such a reaction from such a fiery man.

“Thought I was ‘sposed ta be taking care of you, darlin’....”

You hum, walking him backwards so the back of his knees hit your mattress.

“Maybe I want you to suffer a little bit,” you offer as you press on his shoulder to make him sit down before you. He looks up at you, eyes heavy and breathing rough.

There’s now a clear handprint on his cheek from where you slapped him, and some flicker of sadness must show in your eyes because one of the hands that had begun tugging your pajama bottoms down your legs comes up to take the hand you’d hit him with and he kisses at your fingers sweetly.

“I’m okay with some sufferin’, ‘s long as you’re the one dealin’ it.”

You fist his hair and duck down to kiss him urgently, letting him help you step from the clothes around your ankles so you can straddle his lap.

“C’mon, baby….I can take it.”

You respond by craning his head back and placing biting kisses down his throat.

Because as wild as Bill Guarnere was, you were still the one who’d tamed him.

And he wouldn’t just do that for anyone.

You were going to be sure he remembered that.

Even if it took all night.

(Hey kids, wrote this while trying to get through writers block a little bittle ago, and there is a part 2, so holler at ya girl if yall’er (: interested ok thank your bye)

(ALSO! I saw someone else describe Sobel as ‘cow-eyed’ in a different fic. I’m trying to find it so I can give the author credit (bc it’s a perfect description!), but if any of you guys know which one i’m talking about just dm me and i’ll link it!)

(ALSO PART TWO: let me know if you’re interested in being tagged on any future garbage I write!)

#band of brothers imagines #band of brothers x reader #bill guarnere x reader #it's vv bad but I'll just add it to the pile of already burning garbage pile that is my bibliography

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angrylizardjacket · 5 years

Text

my baby’s a public menace {Ben Hardy/Reader/Roger Taylor}

Four Iconic Moments The Press Had A Fucking Field Day With

A/N: 2670 words. So this time we’ve got Modern Times with 70s!Roger pulled forwards in time. Don’t think too hard about how it works it just does.

1. It Becomes Official

The moment they call Ben’s name at the BAFTAs, to receive the award for Lead Actor in a Television Series, you feel like the whole world is coming to a stand still, and Ben’s rising, disbelief written all over his face.

“That’s me.” He says, quietly, as the applause has already begun, and then Roger’s on his feet, beaming, and he wraps his arms around Ben, pashing him directly in front of the camera that was catching every moment, and Ben kisses him back easily, before turning to you, eyes bright, and he pulls you to your feet, giving you a kiss as well.

“Congratulations, babe.” You murmur, and he’s so fucking ecstatic when he pulls back, and heads into the aisle, heading towards the stage. You slide into his seat with ease, lacing your fingers with Roger’s where he’s bouncing with energy and beaming with pride.

“He fuckin’ won.” Roger laughs with a little disbelief, and you turn to each other, both absolutely radiating with pride and adoration.

“Our boy did it.” You giggle, and Roger’s gaze dips to your lips for a moment before he looks back up, a new spark in his eyes that you knew all too well.

“I can’t wait ‘til we all get home.” He dropped his voice low, and you could feel yourself growing a little flustered at the suggestion.

“Keep it in your pants, dear,” you nudged him, and he barked out a laugh, giving you a wink before he turned to where Ben was finally walking across the stage. You, however, felt your heart stop in your chest, “he kissed us on camera.”

“Well, I kissed him,” Roger mused, his thumb rubbing against the side of your hand, “couldn’t help myself.” He admitted, still beaming as Ben was handed his award, expression bright and a little disbelieving as he leaned into the microphone.

“I think I just won a BAFTA and outed myself in the same minute, so that’s going to be hard to beat next year.” Is the opening line of his speech, and the audience titters with polite laughter, while you and Roger are hiding your snorts. “I actually had to email the organisational committee to ask them to let me bring more than one plus one, I’m glad to see that it wasn’t in vain.” He laughs; he goes on to thank the crew of the show he worked on, the other cast members, his family, and he looks for you and Roger in the audience, pointing the award at you. “And for Rog and Y/N, of course; the weirdest and best thing to happen to me in a long time.”

“Do you think he knows how much we wanna suck his dick?” You lean over to Roger, whispering under your breath, amused smile on your lips at you look up at your boyfriend grinning on stage.

“Of course he does, look at that smile.” Roger responds with a low chuckle as Ben leaves stage, heading back towards you. When he gets back to his seat, you move back to your own seat, resting your head on his shoulder when he sits down.

“We’re so proud of you, baby.” You tell him softly as they’re beginning the next segment on stage, and Ben reaches out with his free hand to rest it on your thigh, giving you a squeeze.

“I know, love.”

2. Roger Throws Half A Chicken At A Paparazzi

“Do you think we should go inside?” You ask, voice low as you catch sight of a man in a baseball cap and dark glasses covertly trying to take photos of you three. It was a nice evening, you, Roger, and Ben had been enjoying a meal outside at an upscale restaurant, the three of you draped on a two person outdoor lounge, your entrees having just been cleared up. Both you and Ben are on your phones, and Roger’s between the two of you, nose buried in the paper.

“Why?” Ben asks, not looking up from his phone, and you shift a little uncomfortably, giving the man trying to look like he’s not taking photos.

“Hey, dude, can you just leave us alone? We just wanna get dinner.” You call to the man, and he stands, a little flustered.

“So it’s true, you’re really dating both of them?” He calls back, stashing his phone in his pocket, pulling out a little recording device; the asshole came prepared.

“No, we’re just really good friends who make out at the BAFTAs.” Roger rolls his eyes, folding up the paper, and throwing the paper onto the table in front of him.

“No need to get snarky, mate, I just think it’s weird that somebody like her would get on so well with-” He’s cut off just as a kind and beleagured waitress puts down what looks like half a roast chicken surrounded by salad onto the table.

“Fuck off, alright?” Ben snaps at the man, clearly irritated, sitting up straighter, giving the waitress an apologetic smile as she leaves in a hurry.

“The hell do you mean ‘someone like her’?!” Roger growls, and you actually have to put a hand on his chest where he’s leaning forward, as if getting ready to throw himself at the reporter.

“I- do you wanna address the rumours then, Y/N about-” The man starts, but Roger cuts him off with a snarl.

“If this bastard brings up those fuckin’ gold digger accusations, I’m gonna start throwing things.” He warns, and not a moment later, the man brings up the very words Roger had told him not to. You’re just heaving a heavy sigh, used to being hounded by the gossip magazines, though you try not to pay them any mind.

“I could shout how much I love you from the rooftops and these assholes would still think this is some sort of weird, sugar daddy situation.” Ben turns to you, his voice low as he gives you a long suffering smile. You lean in across the empty space that Roger had just vacated to give him a kiss, before turning to where Roger was wielding his roast chicken like a grenade, lobbing it at the reporter, yelling about how he’s ‘sick and tired of hearing people talk shit about his girlfriend; she’s got more kindness and talent in one tit than the paparazzi has in his whole body’.

“We should probably get him before he does any real damage.” Ben muses, to which you agree. The two of you move to collect your rogue boyfriend as he continues to yell and squirm.

“Baby, baby please calm down; you’ve made a scene, you’ve thrown a chicken, you’ve mentioned my tits, we can have dinner at home.” You try to placate him, your arm tucked in his as Ben’s got an arm around his shoulders, the two of you guiding him from the restaurant.

“Just makes me so bloody mad.” Roger growls his hands on your hips where you’ve got your arms around his waist as Ben pays for your half finished meals. “It’s twenty eighteen, you’d think dickheads would learn to grow up.” He huffed.

“I know, baby.” You muse, bringing him in for a kiss to distract him, hoping to let his anger simmer down a little as you two stand in the parking lot.

“I just love you is all, people like that make me so pissed-” He whispers, more to himself than anything, but then you’re kissing him again, humming affirmations, your hands in his hair.

“I love you too, I love you too.” You murmur against his lips.

Later that night you’ll see Ben’s instagram story from just before he joins the two of you again. You and Roger, arms around each other, lit by a single streetlight, you’re leaning in to him, lips inches from his, and he’s smiling gently back at you; the whole image is surprisingly intimate, especially for Roger. It’s captioned ‘I’m allowed to take candids ‘cos they love me’.

3. Someone Gives Ben Tequila

Ben’s not usually the type to get drunk and reckless. Or well, he’s the type to get drunk on occasion, but not reckless, not like Roger, who can be incredibly reckless even while sober, nor like you, since you could go either way. Ben was meant to be the grounded one. Except sometimes he has tequila. It’s an afterparty for a movie he’d gotten a supporting role in, it’d been fun, but he was looking forward to being able to spend time with you and Roger again. Speaking of the two of you, you’d disappeared almost half an hour ago, Roger had gone to the bathroom and you’d gone to get more drinks.

When he finds you, you’re trapped in an uncomfortable conversation with one of the editors assistants’, a weedy kid who couldn’t seem to figure out that you didn’t want to talk to him.

“Hi, baby!” You call out to Ben the moment you think he’ll be able to hear you over the music, and he makes a beeline for you, his heart singing when he sees your face light up.

“Hello, love, I was wondering where you’d gotten to.” He says, barely acknowledging the guy you’d been talking to, who’s own expression fell as Ben pressed a kiss to your lips. The two of you head off in search of Roger, who you find by the bathroom, talking with someone who’s clearly quite enamoured with him. From his easy stance and casual smile, you could tell he was at least enjoying the woman’s company. Neither you nor Ben were usually the jealous type, but after a few drinks, you couldn’t be blamed for just wanting to stake your claim.

“Hey, babe, who’s this?” Ben asks, slipping an arm around Roger’s shoulders as you stepped around to loop your arm through his on his other side. Roger, with a sly, knowing smile, looks between the two of you, before smiling brightly at the woman who’d been talking to him.

“Like I was saying, this is my boyfriend and girlfriend; you’ll have to excuse them, they get jealous easily.” He smirked, and the woman looked a little shocked, a little flustered, as she stuttered her way through an apology. “It’s no worry, I’m sure they can entertain themselves for a while,” and with that, he winked at you. Taking the hint, you moved, taking Ben’s hand and leading him away.

“He’s just being a social butterfly, you know how he is.” You mused gently, the two of you flopping onto a sofa. Ben hums thoughtfully, sitting beside you, your hand in his. He presses a kiss to your shoulder, trailing kisses up your neck to your jaw.

“‘m not jealous.” He said, lips at the corner of yours, pressing another kiss there before he brings his hand up to cup your cheek, moving so you’re smiling over your shoulder at him, “it’s just nice to say you guys are mine.” And his voice is low, almost a growl, and you feel a shiver run down your spine.

“I like the sound of that.” You tell him, kissing him hard, letting his hands wander and pull you close to him.

“Mine?” He asks, and his hand is on your thigh, moving your legs so you’re sitting over him rather than next to him.

“Yours.” You agree, kissing him again, messy and passionate, you can taste the alcohol on his lips and his tongue but you don’t care when he’s leaning you back to lie on the sofa. “And Roger’s.” You add quietly, and there’s a gleam in Ben’s eyes where he’s looking down at you, his arm around you, one hand on your waist.

“You’re ours, love, there’s no doubt about it.” He assures, and he leans in to kiss you again.

“I can’t take you two anywhere!” Roger’s grinning when he finds the two of you, and Ben presses his laughter into your collar as you look up at Roger and make an insistent, grabby hand for him. “If you insist.” He chuckles, sinking to his knees to join you at your level, kissing you where you’re splayed out on the sofa, with Ben all but on top of you. “You know there’s a perfectly good bathroom not too far from here.”

Not ten minutes later, one of the other cast members sends to the cast group chat, in all capitals ‘BEN’S BANGING IN THE BATHROOM’ which was met with either ‘at least they’ve freed up the sofa’ or ‘lmao called it’. You’re not surprised, nor are you ashamed, when some gossip rag has your face on it (or more accurately, Ben’s face) the next morning, and a riveting account of what happened with no actual details, and a photo someone took on their phone of you and Ben on the sofa. It wasn’t the first time, it probably wouldn’t be the last.

4. Roger Gets Instagram

Roger takes surprisingly well to instagram, which is both hilarious and terrifying. He posts a lot of selfies; he takes to being an instagram fuckboi like a duck takes to water. At first it’s mostly blurry shots, of sunlight, sometimes it’s you and Ben out of focus, laughing, or he gets one of you two to take a photo of him, shirtless.

When he gets a waterproof phone, the first thing he does is take a photo of you and he kissing underwater at the beach, and then three separate, all individually hilarious videos of Ben trying and failing to do a majestic hair flip coming out of the water; in the last one, both boys get hit by a huge wave, and the video ends with you laughing, fishing the phone out of the surf.

The three of you go on holidays to somewhere sunny, and at the end of the week, he posts the highlights; you lying on your stomach beneath a palm tree on the beach, topless; a selfie of the three of you smiling at the camera against a backdrop of a starlit sky, golden in the light of a bonfire; Ben in a coconut bra, a little blurry with the movement of laughter, grinning at you just out of shot; you, in bed, making a truly terrible face where he’s just woken you up and the sun’s in your eyes. His favourite, however, is the one from him at the end of the holiday, shirtless and tanned, shot from the waist up, biting his lip as he’s turned to look off to the left, showing off how he’s covered in hickies.

The shots that get the most media attention are his more risque ones, like the shot on his story that you’d taken where you could see the bottom half of his face all the way down to his hips, with a sheet covering his modesty, but a lipstick kiss mark along his V-line and his tongue out. (There’s a followup photo on your instagram story, of your lipstick smeared, grin wide, and your hair messy, with the caption, ‘sometimes you just gotta be a messy bitch’, and people put two and two together, and conservatives lost it.)

The most infamous actual post of his is the shot of you and Ben together in bed, he’s leaning against the headboard, still mostly laying down, and you’re draped over him, chin resting on his chest where the two of you are grinning about something. The sheet covers most of your ass, and comes up to Ben’s hips, and you’re giving the camera some pretty glorious side boob, and the photo’s framed to show room for one more person beside you in the bed, a sliver of sunlight shining through the curtains, across Ben’s chest and your back, and it’s just captioned ‘what a sight’. He’d asked you both before posting it, and you’d both agreed; it didn’t violate any guidelines, but social media still had a field day with the sweet, clearly post-coital photo.

#ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #roger taylor #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor x reader #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy x reader x roger taylor #ben x reader x roger #bohemian rhapsody #borhap #bo rhap #borhap imagine #borhap cast #borhap cast imagine #queen #queen imagines #queen imagine #the angry lizard writes

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killer-benhardy · 5 years

Text

Say It - Part 5

Ben!Roger Taylor x Reader

A/N: OH my GOD. So I’m going to school tomorrow so this is like my last one before I go back which is quite upsetting, cause I love this fic and writing it. But I’m not sure if I’ll be updating as much. I’ll update as much as I can. BUT WOW OML THIS CHAPTER WAS SO INTENSE TO WRITE WOW

It had only been four days since Brian had been staying with you and Roger. It was quite simple since you would prepare meals for the three of you, Roger would occasionally help you, and Brian would always offer to lend a hand which always ended with you saying, “don’t worry about it, you need to rest up!”

Roger would be lying if he said he wasn’t jealous of Brian. After every meal, you would always bring out a pot of tea just for Brian and occasionally forgetting to hand a cup to Roger.

The only time Roger didn’t feel those jealous emotions was when the two of you would finally get time alone right when you had to go to bed. But those moments would usually sadly be cut short since you would tend to Brian’s care.

Although Roger would take any chance to take care of Brian so you would rest. You loved caring for people. You always took care of your friends, especially all the boys from Queen, you loved taking care of them sick or not.

Today was just like one of those days. The usual morning pot of tea after breakfast for Brian and you remembered to hand Roger a teacup.

“Bri, Rog, did you want anything from the grocer’s?” You picked up your purse and headed towards the front door.

Brian turned his head from the telly and asked, “is it alright if I can get some of those caramel sweets from the shop around the corner? I’ll give you the money for-”

“Stop right there! I’ll just buy it for you okay lov- Bri?” Big mistake. You shouldn’t have done that.

You could tell that Brian knew what you were about to say ‘love,’ but it was because you’re always used to calling Roger ‘love’ or any kind of affectionate name at home. The only exception was for Freddie.

You quickly ran towards Roger, who just came out of the bathroom and planted a soft kiss onto his lips.

“Where are you off to, Y/N?” He probably didn’t hear you when you asked if he wanted anything.

“Just the grocer’s. Want any sweets?” Roger’s face stared at you with a questionable face, he was thinking about what he would like.

But then he realised that you’ve been taking care of Brian non-stop.

“Why don’t I just head to the grocer’s, and you have some time for yourself to take a bath and rest, okay?” Roger suggested, but he regretted saying it. He was going to leave you with Brian. Alone in the apartment.

Wow, that sounded like heaven to you. Yes. You loved taking care of Brian, but you might’ve accidentally missed a meal or two.

“Thank you so much, Rog. Is that okay with you?” You wanted to make sure he wasn't doing it out of guilt. He simply nodded ‘yes’ and headed his way out.

“I’ll miss you,” you smiled at him. “You just need to get some vegetables, juice, caramel sweets for Brian and some sweets for me as well!” Roger kissed you on the forehead before leaving you alone with Brian.

He still can’t believe he asked to get things from the grocer’s. Why not go with you instead? It was probably the spark of the moment he wanted to do something for you.

“So, how is Mr May recovering? Is your arm feeling a bit better?” You walked towards Brian who was on the couch watching ‘Top of the Pop’s’ on the telly.

He turned his head quickly towards you and responded, “thanks to you, I like I’m ready to start playing again!” But of course he was kidding, he only had around two more weeks to heal.

“That’s fantastic Bri! You enjoy the telly, while I go have a relaxing bath,” you skipped away to the bathroom to run the water. Roger had told you to have time to yourself, and that was exactly what you were going to do.

You opened a cabinet that had all of your soaps, took a bottle of vanilla scented body wash and poured it close to the faucet of the running water. Vanilla soon was the only thing you could smell in the air.

You quickly took all your clothes off, it had been a while since you’ve last had a bubble bath for yourself.

The last time you had a bubble bath was with Roger, a few nights before he left for the tour. Yes, you often took baths with him. And yes, they were quite enjoyable.

“Y/N!”

“Yes?”

“The telephone’s ringing!”

“Just answer it!”

And that’s what Brian did. He slid across the couch in order to reach the telephone, “Hello, this is-” Brian wasn’t able to finish his sentence and listened to what was being said on the other line.

He kept quiet, but before he knew it he quickly ended the call, cutting off the other line in the middle of their sentence.

He couldn’t believe it.

“Who was it?” He didn’t say anything for a while. “Bri?”

“It was just Miami, he was asking how I was doing. He’s sounding more like my mother!” He laughed. You didn’t think much of what he said since it sounded quite funny to you.

“I’m going to murder that drummer boy.” Brian could hear Roger outside trying to open the door, but it seemed like he was struggling with the bags of groceries. As soon as Roger came through the door, Brian was right by the door.

“Bloody hell, you shouldn’t be standing in front of the door like that. Nearly had a heart attack,” Roger chuckled walking past the taller man but he stopped in his track.

“What’s wrong Mr May?” He sassed.

“Nothing. You’ve got to watch yourself,” Brian spoke with a very sarcastic tone. Roger had no idea why he was acting like that. It just made him angry. Brian’s eyes glanced towards the bathroom and Roger obviously knew that you were in there. And Brian was making Roger even more jealous.

Roger had a checklist. It was just things he had thought since Brian was staying for a while.

Y/N will pay attention to Brian. Check

Y/N will take care of Brian more. Check

Y/N will forget about me

And Roger couldn’t bear to think of the worst-case scenario. But Brian knew something was off with him. He just didn’t want to confront him. Wouldn’t want anything bad to happen of course.

Roger brushed past Brian and gave him the bags of groceries, which ended up falling on the ground. How could an injured guy hold so many bags?

“You back, love?” You spoke loudly skimming your fingers across the water of your bath. He popped his head through the door and you smiled at him.

“Of course I’m back, you did say that you’d miss me,” he winked at you as he took a few steps closer to you.

“Tomorrow night, we’re going out with the band.”

“We are? And where are we all going?”

“Just for dinner and maybe we’ll stop by the pub?”

“Sounds like a plan!”

Brian was listening and he knew that there were no plans for dinner. Even though last minute plans were Roger’s thing, it seemed a bit odd.

“You’re doing it just to see her.”

Flashback

Brian picked up the telephone, “Hello this is-”

“Hey, Roger. It’s Amy. I know you told me not to call until you were on the road again. I wasn’t able to get the chance to say something to you before you went back home. You were incredible in bed. I miss you.”

It was Amy. She was one of Roger’s groupies that would always see him after performances. But that was before he met you.

“I hope that we’re still meeting tomorrow night, at the usual place? I know how it’s usually done. You’ll have dinner with your bandmates and then I’ll see you in the bathroom after you order your usual dr-”

He ended the call straight away. He didn’t want to hear Amy’s voice anymore.

Present

Brian knows everything. He knows Roger’s groupie schedule. He knows that Roger is still with the last groupie he was seeing before he met you.

“That fucking bastard.”

—

Part 6

—

Taglist: @roger-taylor-stole-my-heart @ilyjules @cosmiclunas @lilliekrs @mrsmazzello @mercurys-bike @jemcairrstairs @wolverinesbeer @anamcg317 @wingardiumlevidonewithlife@a3lizalee @lelifesaver @jennycidesstuff @killerqueenbucky

#roger taylor #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor x reader #ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy x reader #bohemian rhapsody #bohemian rapsody movie #freddie mercury #rami malek #brian may #gwilym lee #john deacon #joe mazzello #queen #say it #fanfic #fic #music

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controloffandoms · 5 years

Text

Paparazzi (J.A.)

Prompt: Requested by anonymous for a friend. (I’m sorry, I lost the ask so I came up with this without the prompt)

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Daughter!Reader, slight Thomas Padalecki x reader

Words: 3193

Warnings: cursing, Paparazzi, panic, anxiety

Notes: I may or may not have been reading a lot of fics about the daughter/dad relationship between Jensen and his daughter, the reader. For the purposes of this story, Thomas is 17, Shep is 10 and Odette is 5. JJ is 8, Arrow and Zep are 4. Maison is 13 and West is 16. Obviously I’m changing the years of birth :)

Part 2

Ever since you could remember, you had been put in the spotlight. Your father, Jensen Ackles, was a huge star in the show Supernatural and everyone wanted to know about his personal life...and that included you. Not to mention that you had a weird family from the cast of Supernatural. You had your Uncles Jared, Misha, Jim, and so on. You had you Aunts Ruth, Kim, and so on.

The nice thing was that you could shield your younger siblings from the paps. You could almost make their life normal. You were the oldest, you could grab all of the attention in the room in order to keep your siblings at a safe distance from those who would try to get too close to your younger siblings.

You weren’t Danneel child biologically. You did call her mom, though. Your mother had dropped you off at Jensen’s when you were just a baby. That had been eighteen years ago. You’d met Danneel in 2007. It had been a while since your father had met someone and you knew he was seeing someone, but you hadn’t gotten to meet her until about a year after they had started dating. You were seven at the time and loved her instantly. When you turned nine, Danneel and your father were expecting their first child and you finally got your wish for a little sister. When you turned thirteen, you got two more siblings and you loved them all unconditionally.

You would do anything for them. Which is why you were in your current situation. “You remember the store Mom went in, right JJ,” you asked her quickly.

“Yeah, the Victoria Secret store,” she replied.

“Good, take your brother and sister into the store and find Mom, okay? Tell her that we need to be leaving soon,” you gave your sister a tight smile, trying to keep calm.

You watched as they left through the back of the music store. You watched as some of the paps went to follow and you had to think fast. You started playing the piano in a rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody accompanied with the singing. That certainly drew the paps eyes. They swarmed you and you inwardly cringed. You hated singing and playing any instrument in front of anyone, let alone paparazzi.

As you finished the small segment of the song, you stood from the piano and tried to make your way out of the store, but there was no out. Your breath picked up slightly. You hated being trapped. The paps just kept shouting questions at you. Some of them on how you learned to play the piano and sing, others on very personal matters, others you couldn’t distinguish. “I need to go-please.”

You tried to push through the paps, but they kept pushing you back. “P-please, I need to leave. I have-I have to go,” you whispered.

They kept shouting questions and kept preventing you from leaving. Your breathing continued to get faster as tears started to prickle at your eyes. You don’t know how long it was until someone was pushing their way through the crown and putting an arm around your shoulder, shouting back at the paps and forcing his way through the waves of men and women trying to get a story.

Once you were a safe distance from the store, the person stopped walking. “Hey sweetheart, are you alright,” he asked.

“Daddy,” you buried your head in his chest and wrapped your arms around him tightly. He wrapped his arms around you just as tight, placing his chin on the top of your head and talking calmly to you.

“It’s okay, don’t work yourself up. I’m sorry they attacked you like that. I thought y’all would be fine for a couple of hours by yourselves,” he hugged you even closer, running a hand over your back in an attempt to ground you.

“They-they just came out of nowhere and I was-I was with JJ and the twins and I knew that they would be scared if they stayed and I told them find Mom and then some of the paps wanted to follow them so I had to distract them and then they just all crowded me and they wouldn’t let me out and they just kept coming and screaming at me,” you sobbed slightly, holding your dad tighter.

“I’m sorry baby. I should have been there sooner.”

“Are Mom and the kids okay,” you asked after a quiet moment.

“They are just fine. They’re waiting in the car. Dani’s worried about you,” your father responded, pulling away from you slightly. “Ready to go, kid?”

A couple of weeks passed and you were finally feeling less afraid of leaving the house. As you walked through the door of the house after your classes, you were met with an eight year old running into your legs followed by the four year olds stumbling over each other as they ran towards you. “Hello, what’s the occasion for you all to attack me the second I get in the house,” you raised an eyebrow at your parents as they rounded the corner with smiles on their faces.

“Mommy and Daddy can’t take us to the park and said that maybe you could! They have work,” Arrow smiles up at you.

You chuckle but nod. “Hmm, I’ll have to check my schedule. Let’s see, I did have that scheduled tickle monster attack for my siblings at 3 PM, but I guess I could bump that up in order to take y’all to the park, Munchkin,” you raced towards JJ and picked her up, tickling her relentlessly.

“No, stop it! (Y/N),” she whined. You laughed and put her down.

You turned to your parents and smiled, “when should I be expecting y’all back?”

“We will be going to dinner at Jared’s house around seven. Do you think you could bring your siblings over? Dani and I will be coming directly from work.”

“Sure, Dad. We’ll go to the park, maybe get a light snack and either do something in town or come back here until it’s time to come over for Dinner,” you stated.

“Great, thanks baby, you’re the best,” he responded, placing a kiss on your head and doing the same to your siblings.

“Really, you’re amazing. I don’t know what we would do without you,” Dani added as she brought you into a huge hug while kissing the top of your head.

“Mom, it’s not a big deal. I love watching out for the little ones. They remind me of the energy I use to have and wish I could get back.”

“Don’t we all,” she responded.

“Alright, Miss JJ, I need to change and then we’ll head out. Help your brother and sister with their shoes,” you called out. An excited ‘okay’ was called back to you and you went to your room to change.

“JJ, don’t go to far away. I need to be able to keep an eye on you,” you called as you pushed the twins on the swings and JJ played around with a couple of the other kids at the park.

“Single mom,” the woman next to you asked.

You laughed slightly, “no, oldest sibling that only has two hands.”

“Think of it this way, the day you have your own family, it will come much easier after doing all of this now,” she responded, “and I’m speaking from experience.”

“I would hope so.”

JJ came running back over, “can we go get snacks,” she asked, face flushed from the running around she did.

“Yes, please (Y/N),” Arrow yelled, clapping her hands.

“Snacks,” Zep asked.

“Okay then, let’s go find a place to get something to tide you over to dinner.” You grabbed the twins hands and instructed JJ to walk close to you.

You walked a couple of blocks until you found a place to go. “How about we get ice cream? Just don’t tell Mom and Dad,” you winked at JJ.

“Yes,” the twins shouted. JJ nodded, bouncing on her feet. You decided to save yourself some trouble and sit the twins down with JJ in charge of making sure they don’t get up. You went to get the ice cream for the four of you.

You paid for the ice creams and sat a table. JJ took a huge bite out of her cone. You set your ice cream aside and get Zep and Arrow ready to eat theirs by trying to protect their clothes the best you could. Finally, you gave them the cups of ice cream and turned to yours, taking a bite. “Try not to get it on your clothes, Jay.”

You spent a couple of hours walking around town until it was about six twenty. “Okay, who wants to go see Uncle Jared and everyone else,” you asked. You got variation of happy sounds so you headed towards the house.

You were almost there when things turned sideways. You tried not to stop, but they swarmed you. You gave your phone to JJ with your dad’s number already dialed. You put had her get on your back. You put a twin on each hip and hugged them close and they returned the favor by burying into you. The second you heard one of the twins start crying, you lost it.

“HEY! BACK THE HELL UP, YOU ARE SCARING THE CHILDREN,” you yelled. The paparazzi went quiet, but you didn’t stop. “You guys would do anything to get a damn story and I’m fucking tired of it! There are better ways to get your stories than ganging up on people! Back the hell up and let me through or I swear to God it’s not going to be pretty,” you glared at the paps in front of you.

They moved slowly to let you through. JJ quietly handed your phone to you as you moved through the crowd who was slowly starting to get louder. “Dad, yeah. I’m three blocks away. Concord Street. Please hurry, I think they’re gonna start up again,” you quietly whispered through the phone.

Not only were the paps freaking your sibling out, but they were freaking you out, but you didn’t get to hide away from them because you were protecting your siblings. You sure as hell weren’t going to let them be even more freaked out by the jackasses.

You backed up from the paps-who were starting their shouting again. “You want a story? Why don’t you write about how paparazzi don’t understand the term ‘personal space’ or how the paparazzi are willing to scare the hell out of three children in order to try and get the juiciest story? I don’t care if you swarm me when I’m alone, but don’t you dare do it when I have my siblings with me! What the hell is wrong with you?!”

More questions were shouted your way and you ignored them. “You wonder why no one wants to talk to you and this is why. You take and take and take and never give back. You do anything for a story that isn’t even true. You twist the words and situations and you give bad reputations to people who deserve so much better than that. Fuck off and stop scaring my family,” you growled, chancing a look behind you to see your father, Jared, and Misha hurrying towards you.

You placed Arrow and Zep down and they ran to your father. You let Misha take JJ and Jared took care of you. Before you could completely walk away, you turned back and got out of Jared’s grip. “And another thing, why don’t you try being decent enough human beings to try and get the stories straight. Stop scaring the shit out of people and book an appointment to talk to someone. Or is that too complicated for you to follow? You should all be fucking ashamed of yourselves! You made children cry, you scarred them and for what? For me to yell at you? For me to yell at you and you to make up a story about how mentally unstable I am? To shine a bad rep on my family? Yeah you should be fucking ashamed,” you growled and let Jared lead you away.

You climbed into the car, biting your lip. All attempts to talk to you slowly died out once you got to Jared’s house. You quickly got out of the car and walked into the house. You bypassed Dani and the others, heading straight for a bathroom. You locked the door behind you and looked into the mirror. You hadn’t realized you’d started crying.

You wiped your tears and let out a couple of shaky breaths. You turned the sink on and splashed your face multiple times before wiping it off. You looked at your form in the mirror, seeing the shaking easily and you took a couple of deep breaths to calm down.

A knock shook you out of your head. “Just a minute,” you called out quietly.

“It’s Tom, open the door, Ackles.”

You debated for a minute before unlocking the door to let him in. He walked in, closing and locking the door behind him. You had sat leaning on the cabinet before Tom had turned to look at you. He joined you on the floor, sitting close enough so that the sides of your bodies barely touched.

It was quiet for a few minutes before Tom spoke. “They don’t know when to stop. They don’t know boundaries and they think that they can do anything. I’m scared of them too. I hate being in the spotlight. It’s okay to be afraid,” he stated.

You leaned a head on his shoulder and wrapped an arm around his waist, “I know...it’s just like they’ve been targeting me and Jay and Arrow and Zep and they freak me out but I can’t show that to my siblings or else they would be even more scared. So I push it back and handle it. Then it all catches up and it crashes down all at once,” you whispered back. Tom’s arm pulled you closer, his head resting on top of yours.

“It’s going to be okay. They’ll find someone else to chase after soon enough.”

“But they shouldn’t! It’s fucked what they’re doing and they know it. They made all three of my siblings cry today, Tom! That’s not alright,” you brought a hand to your face, wiping away your tears.

“I know that. Them making you cry isn’t alright either...but there’s not much we can do about it. We just have to keep moving on and making sure you and your siblings are alright.”

You sighed and nodded slightly. “Yeah...but I need a moment to pull myself together,” you responded.

“And I’m right here to help you get it together.”

Everyone had decided to stay at Jared’s for the night. He had plenty of rooms to share anyway. You couldn’t sleep though. The paparazzi swarm had really gotten to you. Slowly over dinner, you had forgotten about it, even if it was just for a little while, but now it was coming back full force.

You got yourself up from the bed and quietly made your way to the kitchen. You grabbed a glass and filled it with water. You sighed and leaned against the counter. “Couldn’t sleep,” Tom asked from the doorway. His tall frame was covered in shadows.

You shook your head. “My brain won’t shut off,” you whispered.

Tom walked into the kitchen and began getting things out from the cupboards. “I have an idea.”

You shook your head as Tom started putting ingredients into a bowl. “You are insane, Thomas Padalecki,” you laughed and started to help him.

You relaxed into the couch, Tom sitting beside you as you both were eating the cookies you’d made and were drinking the milk. “I’m surprised, they actually taste good,” you looked at Tom.

He fake gasped and placed a hand to his heart, “I’m offended. I am a wonderful cook and baker.”

“The last time you cooked, you burned the pasta.”

“That was one time,” he quietly exclaimed. He placed an arm over your shoulder and leaned further against the couch.

You relaxed even more against him, feeling sleep pull you in. “Thanks for this, Tom. You didn’t have to stay and put up with me,” you yawned.

“I’d do anything to see that beautiful smile on your face,” he responded as you fell into the arms of sleep.

You slowly woke to the sound of muttering voices. As you slowly became aware of everything around you, you felt the arm around your waist. You could also feel the mattress below you moving….wait, that wasn’t a mattress. You opened your eyes and squinted at the light. Somehow during the night, you and Tom had moved to lay fully onto the couch with you on top of Tom.

The voices got slightly louder as they entered from another room. “We should wake them up,” your father stated.

“It looks like they had a long night, Jens, let them sleep,” Gen replied.

“Yeah, let them sleep,” Tom’s chest rumbled under you. His voice was deeper from lack of use. His arm around you tightened slightly as he started to doze off again.

You flushed slightly and bit your lip. “You should see your faces,” Misha lost it. Curious, you looked over the couch to where your father and Jared had varying degrees of shock, excitement, and amusement on their faces.

“Your faces are kind of funny,” you mumbled and placed your head back on Tom’s chest, feeling the tiredness sink in again.

“Oh no you don’t,” your father responded. “Time to go (Y/N).”

“I don’t want to,” you grumbled and snuggled more into Tom’s chest, wishing to go back to sleep. You heard multiple choked laughs at the response. You assumed your father was giving them a look that made them try to be serious.

“Tom, (Y/N) needs to go,” Misha stated.

“No,” he responded.

You laughed quietly. “We can do this again sometime. We can talk later,” you whispered, not really wanting to make your father angry.

Tom made a sad noise but his arm slowly released you. He sighed and sat up. Because you were on his chest, you went with him. “Hello there,” he smirked as your faces were inches from each other.

“H-Hey. Um, I have to-I’ve got to g-go,” you quickly got off Tom and leaned down to give him an awkward hug. “Talk to you later,” you rushed.

“Yeah,” he smiled genuinely. “Maybe next time we won’t be so rudely interrupted,” he smirked.

Your face flushed even redder and you made a couple of unintelligible sounds. “I-uh-I d-don’t think-that’s not-I-bye Tom,” you stuttered and hurried out of the room, catching small glimpses of the adults’ faces. Most were close to cracking up. Jared had a proud but amused look on his face and Jensen’s was stone hard. This was going to be a fun ride home.

Supernaturalites

@dragon-star-light @lifelovelaughangell123 @clarinette07 @jessikared97 @the-wintergirl

#supernatural #spn #spn family #spn family x reader #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x daughter!reader #jared padalecki #genevieve padalecki #danneel harris #danneel ackles #tom padalecki #misha collins

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smugdensugdendingle · 5 years

Note

“ I’d kill for a coffee.... literally. “ Aaron to Robert.

Hey Lovely! I hope you like it!

Day Two: A Football Team

Aaron could Kill Robert. No, it was definitely going to happen, a couple hours he was told, a quick trip into town for a meeting and he’d be back in no time to help with the kids. That was five hours ago and still no Robert to be seen. So, there Aaron was stood in the portacabin holding their fussy 13-month-old daughter on his hip, their four-year-old sat at the other desk on the iPad, headphones on, sucking her thumb watching a show, and their six-year-old pouting at Robert’s desk.

“Dad!”

“Seb, I swear if you keep shouting…” Aaron told the boy as he went through the pile of papers on his desk looking for a file.

“I’m bored, though!”

“So I’ve heard and like I said we’re not going anywhere ’til Dad gets here,” Aaron replied making his way over to sit down, he placed the little girl on his lap.

“Why couldn’t we just stayed home?” The little boy whined.

“Because Ellis called out sick and I couldn’t just let this place stay shut all day,” he told the little boy looking over at him.

“Dad said you used to keep it closed when I was a baby,” the boy explained.

“Your dad needs to keep his mouth shut,” he muttered to himself.

“What?”

“Seb, while yes this place was closed quite a lot back then it was different, we didn’t have as many clients as we do now and we had you to mind we couldn’t exactly just plop you in front of the telly and go about our business,” he explained.

“It’s not fair,” Seb pouted. Aaron sighed, “Why don’t you go watch the iPad with Sofia?” He suggested causing Seb to frown.

“What?”

“Can I go outside and play?”

“You’re joking right?” Aaron questioned. “It’s a scrapyard, not a playground.”

“I’ll stay by the door,” the boy protested.

“No,” he firmly replied. “Now you have two options you one, go watch what Sof is watching or you can just sit there and be bored your choice.”

“Fine,” Seb stated getting up, making his way over to his sister. Aaron breathed out, he looked down to see his other daughter slapping away on his laptop with a big smile painted across her face, “You helping Daddy work Ev?” He asked looking at the jumble of letters that were displayed on the screen. The little girl giggled in response, “Thank you,” he replied leaning down to kiss the top of her head.

It was rounding three in the afternoon, after what felt like a million calls and a million and a half texts to Robert with no word back Aaron had just given up on reaching him. Seb was now playing out front throwing a tennis ball against the portacabin, Sofia playing a game on his phone, and he was pacing the small office with a crying Evelyn trying to calm her. To say he was exhausted would be a major understatement, the thumping of the ball was giving him a headache but it was better than the arguing that had to happen after the iPad had died. The landline started ringing, Evelyn was still crying, “Sweetheart, Daddy needs to answer the phone can we quiet down?” he asked the 13-month-old causing the little girl to cry even louder. “I’ll take that as a no,” he said to himself as the phone continued ringing, “I know, I know, shh, it’s okay,” he continued as he softly patted the little girl on the back as he paced, after a couple of more rings the phone went silent. Aaron sighed, “How is Daddy met to get anything done little one?” He asked the crying girl. “Here,” Aaron said pulling his keys from his pocket. The little girl took the keys, her cries quickly turned to laughter as she jiggled them, the clanking metal ring in his ears, the phone started ringing again he leapt for the phone answering it, “Yeah, Holey Scrap this is Aaron speaking,” he said trying to talk over the noise, he reached for the keys in Evlyn’s hand with his free hand. “No, sorry mate we’re not doing pickups today,“ he replied fighting to keep a grip on his daughter’s hand with the keys. The girl started fussing as she tried to pull free.

”Stop it,” he told his daughter in almost a whisper. “No, sorry not you,” he said into the phone. “Was talking to my daughter,” he explained. “Yeah, trying is the keyword,” He replied. He frowned quickly realizing the thumping of the ball against the portacabin had stopped, “I’m sorry,” he replied realizing he hadn’t heard anything the man on the phone had said. He made his way over to the window to look out not seeing his son by the door, “You know what, could you give me a second?” he asked the man as he held up the phone to his ear with his shoulder. He made his way to the door, opening it, it took a couple of seconds to register what he was looking at, “SEB!” He yelled at the sight of the six-year-old stood on top of an old junked car.

“Hi, Dad!” The boy called back with a huge smile. “I got up all by myself!” He explained proudly.

“I’m gonna have to call you back,” he said into the phone letting the phone drop from his shoulder into his hand ending the call without another word. “Get down now,” he told the boy as he made his way out the portacabin and rushed over, Evelyn holding on tightly.

“But I just got up here,” Seb replied.

“And now you’re getting down,” he answered holding his hand out for the boy to grab a hold of.

“But,” the boy tried protesting.

“No ‘but’, get down,” Aaron repeated. The boy made his way over a couple of steps jumping into his dad’s free arm slightly knocking the wind out of him. Aaron kneeled letting Seb down, “Inside, come on.”

“I want to play with the ball again,” Seb said.

Aaron chuckled, “Nope, inside now,” he repeated ushering the boy towards the portacabin.

“Daddy your phone died,” Sophia said as they made their way in, handing the now useless piece of tech back.

“Thank you, Sof,” he replied with a sigh taking his phone back and placing it on his desk. He froze, again, noticing the silence, “Please tell me Ev is still holding my keys,” he said to the two older kids. Sofia and Seb shook their heads no, “Ev, where are Daddy’s keys?’ He asked turning his attention to the girl.

“By-by,” she only said with a smile.

“Bye Bye?” Aaron questioned getting only a smile and a giggle out of Evelyn. “Did you throw Daddy’s keys?”

“By-by,” the little girl repeated.

“Who wants to play a game?” He asked the two older kids.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Twenty minutes had past and Aaron still couldn’t find his keys, Evelyn was now sat in her stroller by the portacabin with Sofia sat next to her on the steps as Seb and Aaron searched the area near the car that Seb had climbed on.

“Damn it!” Aaron vented out as he was on his hands and knees blindly feeling around underneath the clunker.

“Oooh you said a bad word,” he heard Sofia call back.

“Yes, Sofia I know,” Aaron answered.

“Daddy!” He heard Sofia yell he looked back to see the four-year-old launching of the steps. Closely followed by “There they are,” He popped up peering over the car to see Robert pick up Sofia.

“Hi,” he responded making it to his feet.

Robert laughed, “Any particular reason you were on the ground?” He asked.

“Ev decided it be fun to throw my keys,” Aaron explained.

“Dada dada,” Evelyn called out at the sight of Robert.

“Hi Miss Evelyn,” he replied making his way over to the stroller. “Have you been driving Daddy Aaron mad?” He asked leaning down.

“Dad, can we go home now?” Seb asked Robert. Robert smirked, “What your bored of this place already?” He asked. “I figured you’d be trying to climb onto anything and everything.”

“He already has,” Aaron answered still scanning the ground. “Climb on top of that car over there, all by himself,” he added pointing to the car.

“Dad yelled at him,” Sofia told Robert.

“I didn’t yell at him, I merely told him to get down… very loudly,” he explained.

“Sounds like an eventful day,” Robert said with a laugh.

“Which you were supposed to be a part of,” Aaron pointed out. “Couple of hours you said.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Robert replied. “got roped into two more meetings by Nicola,” he explained.

“Dad!” Seb interrupted yanking on Robert’s jacket. “Please?!”

“We have to find Dad’s keys first,” Robert told the boy.

“I put Daddy’s keys on his desk,” Sophia told her dads pointing inside. Both Robert and Aaron looked at the girl, “What?” Aaron questioned.

“I founded them by the steps,” she added.

Robert choked back a laugh.

“I swear if you laugh…” Aaron trailed off.

“I’m sorry,” Robert replied still trying his best to bite back the laugh.

Aaron breathed out slowly before chuckling himself, “Oh my- why don’t we just go home,” he replied making his way up the steps and into the office to retrieve his keys, his phone, and the diaper bag.

He stepped out shutting the door and locking it behind him.

“Long day?” Robert asked knowing the answer as Aaron made his way down.

“Very.”

“What can I do to make it up to you?” Robert asked wrapping his free arm around Aaron’s waist running small circles on his back with his finger. The other man thought for a moment, “I’d kill for a coffee,” Aaron replied.

“It’s nearly four in the afternoon, you won’t sleep tonight-“ Robert began saying before being cut off.

“You don’t understand, I will LITERALLY kill someone if I don’t get some caffeine in me now,” Aaron replied with a serious face.

“Looks like we’re stopping by the Café before home,” Robert told the kids.

“Thank you.”

“What are you gonna be like when we have the next kid?” Robert asked.

“When?” Aaron questioned. Robert smirk before leaning in to kiss his husband, “A football team remember?” He replied with a grin leaning back for another kiss only to be stopped.

“Coffee first,” Aaron stated pulling out of Robert’s grip making his way over to the stroller.

ao3 link

previous fic

#28 fics in february #Anonymous #day two #aaron dingle #robert sugden #seb white #original sugden-dingle kids #robert x aaron #aaron x robert #robron #robron fanfiction #ao3 robron

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nomnomnibblenibble · 5 years

Text

Frat Party (hybrid series)

Count: 1.6k words

Type: angstish, fluff

A/N: 1st of a series that will involve all members (inspired by the dream of a 🦎 aka Liz)

The bass of the blaring music was so loud you and Yoongi could feel it underneath the asphalt. If you hadn’t yet adapted yourself you’d be on the ground in agony.

From in front of the frat house the two of you could see people shuffling in and out. Some of them you could recognize from around campus but most of the faces blurred together in insignificance.

“Are you sure about this?” You asked turning to Yoongi. The idea to go a normal people party had been at his suggestion. One that took some convincing for you to accept. It was safer for the two of you to avoid any unnecessary human interaction.

Your super hearing was something you had gotten under control. From being a clueless twelve year old you had learned to tune out and turn down the sounds you didn’t need. A sheet of paper no longer hurt your sensitive ears as it could before.

Yoongi’s mutation on the other hand was more physical. Looking at him currently he would look as any college student although a bit small weight wise. It was when he let his guard down or he lost control that the furrier side came. He was a young kid when he had figured out he was a cat.

Not fully, but paws, tail, ears, and whiskers. Those were all there. His parents made sure to keep their unique son as guarded as possible. Of course for his own good, but their actions proved somewhat detrimental. It took Yoongi so long to learn how to keep his human form. College away from his parents wasn’t looking like an option until he met you in his senior year of high school.

Two freaks who could safely be abnormal.

With no answer Yoongi walked ahead of you into the packed house. You followed close behind him not wanting to lose sight of him. The two of you walked into the threshold to be bombarded with the smell of alcohol and weed at least that’s what you assumed.

The center of the room had partygoers squished together as though they were kept in by invisible walls. Girls and guys, guys and guys, girls and girls all grinding on each other as though they were trying to chafe off glue. The blue light that illuminated the room doing more to hide faces than to reveal them.

Naturally the two of you migrated to the ‘outskirts’ of the large front room. Still surrounded by people but at least breathing was possible.

Yoongi looked amazed by what was before him. Large gatherings were hardly something he was used to. You on the other hand were searching for something that didn’t make you uncomfortable to look at. Stupid drunk kids and students pushing back on each other wasn’t ideal.

Turning in your place you spotted the kitchen considerably more empty. It would do as a temporary escape.

Before walking away you shifted towards Yoongi to alert him only to find the boy in a near state of bliss. His gums were on display as he smiled like a kid in a candy store. He was experiencing, although uninvolved, a part of young life he was expected to miss out on. Pure happiness out of watching his peer act like idiots.

Deciding against disturbing his joy you went over to the kitchen knowing you could listen out for him.

The kitchen was abandoned compared to where the party was concentrated. Four people at most standing around looking like they’d rather be anywhere else. The alcohol wasn’t situated in this room so that left little reason for anyone to be in here.

Deciding a cup in hand, preferably non alcoholic, was better than standing by with nothing you enlist the help of another party goer in the kitchen. From behind there is only black hair as an identifier as you tap on their shoulder. A familiar smiling face appears. If there was a boy who didn’t seem as though he belonged in a traditional fraternity, it was Park Jimin.

Ladies man sure, charming definitely, did you have slight crush, of course. But Jimin was more known for his dancing. He was a dance major that was member of a fraternity. A combination that couldn’t be described as stereotypical.

“Hey you” Jimin said recognizing you from your shared anatomy class. You two weren’t close, but there were the occasional friendly conversations as you two were lab partners.

You replied with a slight smile not wanting to appear too eager, “Hey yourself”

His head turned slightly to the side like a puppy looking up in confusion without the smile ever leaving his lips “I don’t take you for the partying type. What’re doing here?”

It’d be great to note that with the music still blasting the two of you were standing closer than normal. Obviously you would be able to hear him from 100 feet away, but he was human after all. You had to make accommodations.

“You’re right. I’m not, but my friend wanted to come see.” It was no use telling him who the friend was. Yoongi didn’t involve himself in much. He preferred to attend class (sometimes) and be home away in his room in the safety of music. His reputation around campus was non existent.

“Well good thing you came. Did you need anything?”

“Yea, actually. I wanted a drink. The non alcohol kind and I’m not sure where to find that here.” You stated referring to the obvious.

Jimin nodded “I got it. I can go check for a soda or something down in the basement. Wait here.” The steps he took out of your space gave you your breath back. Your face finally didn’t feel as hot. Being a little more at ease you relaxed into the sway of the music rocking back and forth in your little bubble.

The party seemed like a swell idea until you heard the sound of heavy breathing. A familiar breathing that you knew could only belong to a panicked Yoongi.

Rushing out of the kitchen you saw a small crowd congregating where you left him in his happy state. You push through the two person thick crowd to see Yoongi crouched down holding his head in his hands. The obvious signs of his panic attacks that you had come to know over the years.

Crouching down next to him you try to gently shush him to calm him down long enough to move him. Having him surrounded by people would do nothing to quell his distress.

“Come on Yoongi, help me out here” you said while attempting to lift him. He was small himself but still more in size than you.

The sound of Yoongi’s speeding heart filled your ears so you didn’t hear the pleas for people to get out of the way from Jimin. You didn’t notice his presence until Yoongi was actually managed to be lifted from a ball on the ground.

With stares from those immediately surrounding you, the two of you dragged Yoongi’s stiff body into a surprisingly empty room. Laying him on the bed, Jimin stood back watching as you fanned Yoongi’s face with your hand.

“Do you need anything?” Jimin asked sounding a little out of breath himself.

While Yoongi definitely was calming down you knew that he could very well turn any moment. No matter how thankful you were to Jimin or how much you wished the conversation could continue you had to get him out of the room.

Vigorously shaking your head you explained “No, it's alright. He’ll be fine, but I need to be alone with him. So if you could…”

“Oh..oh yeah. I’ll go.” Jimin said turning around to the door. He gave a friendly smile before gently shutting the door.

You turned your attention back to a much calmer and different looking Yoongi. His whiskers were visible and his ears took on their pointer form. He was staring up at the ceiling with wide eyes taking deep breaths. The worst of it was over.

You sighed in relief “You alright now?”.

He nodded still silent.

Knowing not to push until he was ready you opted instead to lay next to him joining him in staring up at the ceiling. His heartbeat, now where it needed to be, brought you peace. Moments of comfortable silence passed within the room.

“I thought someone had found me out.” his tail coming up to wiggle to what he was referring to. “People were starting to stare. I panicked.”

You nodded in understanding although he probably couldn’t see you. Most likely there wasn’t anyone who saw him outside of his human form, but Yoongi having grown up so paranoid about everything and everyone around him sometimes viewed slight glances in a different light.

“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. I guess I went too far-” he continued.

Letting him make himself feel bad for wanting something so simple was not gonna slide. You knew he meant no harm and you were happy to let him experience his youth as much as possible.

“Don’t be like that. And don’t worry about it. It wasn’t all bad.” you interrupted. The music in the background giving a consistent beat that didn’t bother the atmosphere you two shared within the room rather adding to it.

In silence a hand laid against yours, a small paw more like in the case of Yoongi. A paw that fit perfectly with no eclipsing or being swallowed by your own. He remained still and you could hear his breaths slow indicating he had fallen asleep.

The two of you in a familiar place. Next to each other, not talking, not even looking at one another, just finding comfort in the existence of the other.

#bts #bts scenarios #bts fanfic #bts reactions #min yoongi #yoongi scenario #bts scenario #yoongi #yoongi imagines #park jimin

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dragonwitch77 · 5 years

Text

Shadow Girl (Prologue)

Once upon a time in a distant land far away, there was once a small kingdom. It was ruled by a benevolent king and his kindhearted queen. Under their rule and guidance, the kingdom prospered—

That means that the kingdom was doing well. And benevolent means well-meaning and kind.

The kingdom prospered under the king and queen. The years would go by and the small kingdom thrived. Everything seemed to be at peace in the small kingdom. But all was not well as everyone had hoped.

Outside of the kingdom, war raged as different nations—

Well they’re kinda like a kingdom but bigger and have a united history or common ground. Now as I was saying.

War raged between the different nations, fighting with each other with—

I don’t know what they were fighting about back then kiddo. People will fight with anyone if they feel like it. Now are you going to listen to my story or not?

The nations fought with each other, each side coating the ground with blood of their enemies and many innocents that were caught in the crossfires. With so many losses on all sides, the nations so realized that if one of them didn’t get any backup soon, then all would be lost. But no one wanted to side with anyone. They were all enemies! All except for one small kingdom.

The nations pleaded with the king and queen, offering gold, food, trade, knowledge from the furthest corners of the planet just so the small kingdom would side with one of them and turn the tide against the war. But, they would not budge. While they wanted to help, their people came first. War would not help the small kingdom. It would only bring destruction and death in its wake.

Not wanting to risk spreading the war to their kingdom, the king and queen rejected all offers and turned down all the requests to join the war. But this turned out to be a bad mistake. A terrible one.

The nations, angered by the king and queen’s refusal to fight, turned on the small kingdom.

They figured that since they refused to fight with them, they didn’t deserve to live in peace.

Lives were lost, villages were destroyed, and it continued to get worse as time went on.

The king, filled with grief on the turn of events on his once peaceful kingdom, begged for mercy from the nations. All his pleads fell on deaf ears and—

No I didn’t mean they couldn’t hear him kid. They just ignored him and didn’t care about how he felt. Yes they were big meanies and poopyheads, but war will do that to you sometimes.

His pleads fell on deaf ears and the nations continued to attack his kingdom. All hope seemed lost as the war went on, until one night the king received a visitor. The visitor was a curiously strange fellow to the king and spoke in a tongue that both seemed foreign and familiar to him. The visitor greeted the king like an old friend, showing compassion and condolence for the king in his current predicament he and his kingdom where in.

The visitor told the king that they were but a kind traveler who had wandered for many years and know of many things many did not. They told the king of stones that reached the stars, a sea made of sand, and a place where snow never ceased falling from the sky where the lights danced with colors. Fascinated by the visitor’s stories, the king asked if they could possibly know how to stop the nations from attacking his people.

To his delight, the visitor did. But not only did he know how to stop the war on his kingdom, they knew how to stop the war altogether! The king only needed to do four important tasks to end the war. The first was to find the strongest tree found in the sea of sand. The second was a gem found in the deepest caves of the rocks that touched the stars high above. The third was a carving knife that could cut and shape anything the wielder wanted. And the final was light of a full blue moon.

At once the king sent out his best men to track down the items required to stop the war, and in two months his men returned with the three items. Handing them to the visitor, the king and him men watched in awe and wonder as the visitor started to cut the strongest tree with the knife, cutting into it like in was nothing more than air. The visitor carved and shaped the wood down till it was a small wooden block the size of a humans head. He then asked the king to step forward, and with the knife carved the block, shaping it smaller and smaller till it was only a small piece of its old form.

Taking the wood and placing it near the king’s face, the visitor once again started carving with careful steady hands, stopping multiple times to place the block of wood against his face for making it into a perfect fit. Finally, the visitor finished his work.

The wood that was used from the strongest tree had been made into a mask! Made to fit the king’s face and his alone.

With the carving done, the visitor took the gem and gave the king very strict instructions.

“My king. With this mask it will grant your deepest wish and stop this war. But I must warn you. Only the light of the blue moon must this mask be bathed in and not by any other light of the moon. For if that were to happen, a dark force will be upon your kingdom far darker than what this war has caused.”

With his final words of wisdom, the visitor placed the gem on the mask, and right before everyone’s eyes the mask transformed into the most elegant mask anyone had laid eyes on. Handing the mask over, the visitor left without saying goodbye and vanished.

The king, mindful to what the visitor had told him, kept the mask hidden, waiting for the night of the blue moon to come. During his waiting the queen gave birth to their son—

Oh! Um! It’s uh-how to explain this to a two year old, uh, it’s-it’s-i-i-it’s when you come into existence and uh there’s the birds and the bees and-I-I’lllll tell you when you’re older alright? Can we just get back to the story? Please?

During his waiting, his son was born, and for the first time since the nations attacked, the king was overwhelmed with great joy. So much that he spent every moment with his new son.

Too much.

The king spent so much time with the boy, he completely forgot about the mask and the moon.

Once he realized this, it was too late. The blue moon had passed and the mask had not gotten even a single ray of its light. To make it even worse, the king’s spy told him of an upcoming attack that would surely kill them all.

The king fell into despair but suddenly remembered of the soon coming blood moon. The queen and his men begged him not to go through with the plan, fearing the warning the visitor gave and dreaded to even think what would fall upon them if the king went through with it. The queen even went far to hide the mask, but king found it and promised his dear wife that he would fix everything.

On the night of the blood moon, the nations were marching in for the final attack, ready to kill off what was left of the kingdom and its people. But before anyone could attack, the king came out on his best horse in his best regal clothes and the mask adorned on his face. He rode out to the edge of the kingdom, riding tall and proud.

The nations thought the king was surrendering, and laughed thinking how foolish it would be to stop them now. But they wouldn’t be laughing soon.

In the light of the blood moon, the mask started radiating with dark power that grew under the moon. The more the moon’s light shone down on it, the more the darkness grew until the kingdom and the nations could feel its power radiating. With a raised fist and an angry yell, the earth shook, startling everyone and terrifying many to flee for their lives. The ground cracked, splitting open and spreading apart like never before seen by the eyes of many.

Farther and farther apart the ground went away, shoving land away from itself to far corners of the world. But even when the last of the nations lands were gone, the ground still shook and the king was still yelling.

Fearing for her subjects lives, the queen ran out to him with the craving knife in hand. Her quickly formed plan was to break the mask, fearing what evil that now lurked there had taken control of her king. But to her despair, she could not reach her king on tumbling ground.

With a heavy heart, she called out to him and threw the knife at his face.

To her dread, the knife hit the mask. And her king.

With the mask now split, its evil was stopped, and the king was dead.

Heart broken, the queen ordered two of her men to take the two halves and hide them away so no one would find them. She never wanted the mask to fall into the wrong hands or see the grim reminder of what she had done.

Over the years everyone soon forgot about the mask and lived peacefully in their new kingdom that grew inside of a forest. The end.

“Wad bout the qween?”

He blinked, peering down at the two eyes staring back at him. “What?”

“The qween? Wad happened to hew?” The child asked again, sucking on her thumb.

“Hey, hey! What did I tell you about sucking your thumb kid?” He growled, pulling her thumb out of her mouth. “And well, not much to tell you about the queen kiddo. No one really paid her too much mind after what happened. I guess they wanted to give her some space to… help with what happened with the king.” Help in the form of grieving and dying of that grief years later, but he wasn’t going to let her know that. “Anyway, it’s bedtime kiddo! Off to bed with you!”

“Nooooo! No Bed Snawer!” She whined as she was scooped up and carried over to her plush bed.

“Snatcher kid. You’re getting close, but not quite there.” Snatcher ruffled her hair, taking pleasure in her whining as he tucked her in.

“But I’m not sweepy!” The child whined, though her argument was very weak as she let out a loud yawn.

“Oh yeah. VERY convincing kiddo.” Snatcher rolled his eyes, tucking the blanket around her carefully. “Come on. We agreed that we would have one more story then you’d go to bed.”

“But.” The girl tried to struggle to stay awake, but the comfy bed and Snatcher placing her Mr. Floppy Ears in her arms was making her tired. She snuggled her toy, looking at Snatcher with a pleading drowsy look. “One mowe? Pwease?”

Snatcher hummed, rubbing his head before sighing. “Alright alright. ONE more story. But you go right to sleep when it’s over kid!”

She nodded, snuggling deeper into her covers.

“Ahem. Once, long ago, there was a man and a woman. They were deeply in love with one another.” Snatcher gazed at the young girl, seeing her eyes drooping. She was already falling asleep, but he didn’t mind. He never finished this story with her. “Every day they spent their time together, loving and cuddling, talking about their dreams for the future.” Her breathing evened out as he went on, talking more to himself then to his sleeping audience. “But one day a fight broke out between them, and the man and woman changed. Forever.”

#ahit #ahit fanfic #ahit au #shadow girl #snatcher #hat kid #a hat in time

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merlinthoughts · 5 years

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Season 1 Episode 2 - Valiant

- ik for a fact that this one is the episode with the asshhoole. not bc i recognised it from the title but perhaps it was because i recognised it from the title u got me there

- i always go to mr clean too when i want protection, val, ur not alone

- yeah, this is harry potter l ma o

- the next thing u know theres a stone that makes arthur live forever and the snakes start joining into one and growing bigger until a phoenix (im dibbing on kilgie here), pops their corneas out

- DAMN DON'T KILL UR DEALER WHERE U GONNA GET THE NEW SHIT FROM NEXT TIME SMH VALIANT

- okay but who names their son valiant

- he was probably named valerie and didnt like it so he said “woah imma be valiant like courage, thats sick”

- that was probably his superhero persona as a child ngl

- no, shev, no respect for val stop doing this

- merlin in armour, what a fucking bLESiSNG GIVING ME THIS RIGHT ON THE SPOT BBC KNOWS WHATS GOOD

- ok a y but hear me out, merlins a servant. i have not seen any of these servants been asked to train with the royals??? like in the sense where it helps the servant train as well?? and the FIRST thing arthur does with merlin as his servant is train with him. not only is arthur a huge JOCK, he’s not using his manservant properly

- neverfuckingmind “most servants collapse after the first blow”, so it seems to be arthur likes to train with his servants. now that in itself is a question to be asked, but is he the only royal who trains with his servants??? how did this man survive on his own without a personal servant until merlin??? did he have a personal servant??? was it just regular servants?? who are those other servants he trained with??? did arthur just say hey lets go to the field in the morning, put on armour and let’s have a fun time?? UNLESS merlin literally just took someones job away from them kmao

- also my mind went right to the gutter guys, ngl, it sounded like an innuendo. it had me quaking i wish i was one of those servants

- “we all have our duties, even arthur” “it must be so tough for him, all the *hesitates* girl, all the glory”

- so we probably get at least 1 out of every 2 episodes where there’s a scene with merlin dressing arthur in his armour. bring the popcorn, lads.

- MORGANA LOOKING LIKE A FRICKEN SNACK

- the reigning champion is arthur, wonder fucking w h y

- valiant is in fucking mustard, while arthur is fucking ketchup idk why i thought of that but it happened. my literature teacher always told me to look for symbolisms. guess we found one guys.

- merlin after hating on arthur for the past episode is literally just cheering arthur on like a good husband he is

- did ARTHUR JUST SNICKER AT MERLINS “CREEP” LMAO DON'T TRY AND HIDE IT BY HUFFING AT HIM AFTERWARDS YOU FUCKING GOOF

- omg he hid it by telling merlin to do a full novel of chores

- AND MERLIN DOES IT WITH MAGIC A PAIR OF GOOFS

- “are you using magic again” “no” merlin ffs he just saw you use magic, while the items fell and landed right in front of him while you didn’t move at aLL. they are nOT BLIND

- “very aggressive style” I MEAN SURE UTHER

- valerie be fuckboying morgana lmao with a “i saw you watching” and a, “then i will give everything to win the tournament”

- i wish this show was set in the early 2000s so i can see val in low sweatpants, a backwards cap with gelled spiky hair and cheap neon sunglasses (maybe even some gold teeth just for kicks), while hes trying to rap 50 cents or make a mixtape of brit pop songs. bc yes.

- honestly im loving my 2000 fuckboy au. gonna make an ao3 after this.

- of course merlin would be the one to find out the magic shit in valiants room, it just lures him. AND OF COURSE VALIANT IS THERE

- i'm so fucking glad arthur looks confused as to how merlin did what he asked. when u have this kind of hubby, arthur, its amazing what things he can do.

- i dont know why theres dramatic music as merlin put armour on arthur but im living for it

- “is it my imagination or are you beginning to enjoy yourself?” merlin doesn't know what to say to that bc he’s turning gay and doesn't know if that counts as enjoying oneself when the one you are gay for is the asshole prince

- typically enough, valiant and arthur never fight except for the finale. like with all conveniences in place, youd expect them to have at least fought at some point with as much knights as there to determine the final two but no, just the finale. k.

- this poor fucking purple knighted bloke didn’t need to be fucking demonstrated on, val. like you didn't need to kill him?? that could have blown ur cover

- DID NOBODY SEE THAT??? DID NOBODY SEE THE FUCKING SNAKES???

- oooh merlin found out what happened everyone gonna be fucked. nobody harms arthur is he has something to say about it

- if someone starts off a sentence with “i just saw someones snakes on their shield come alive” nobody would fucking believe you, merls. but given the fact that magic exist… mhh maybe it wouldn’t be too absurd. but ppl apparently are thick as hell

- “why were you in his chambers” well i know how id explain if i was in valiants chambers ;)

- jk i dont fall for this toxic shit

- imagine getting paid as an actor just just lie down there like this poisoned kid. “yeah, id like to audition for ewan’s role???” “why are you lying on the ground?”

- i hate those tropes where it's like “i know how to tell someones bad, here’s proof” and then nobody believes you and tells you you’re lying and should die or whatever but then you kNOW IT'S THE FUCKIN TRUTH BITCH that trope gives me damn anxiety >:((

- yes merlin, fucking slash the shield with your sword. i'm sure that's how it works. im sure it will kill the snakes.

- HOWA RE THE SNAKES ALIVE WITHOUT VAL SAYING “ISHNAHASHAHI”

- i think val would know that you cut off the snake’s head, merls, just saying. ur were the oNLY ONE.

- TELL ARTHUR WHAT??? “I CUT A SNAKE”

- EXACLTY ONG THAT'S WHAT MERLIN FUCKING SAID I WAS RIGHT LMAO

- ARTHUR BELEIVED HIM I'M FUCKING LIVING BUT IK WHAT HAPPENS AND AHH

- uhhh the anxiety is rolling up boys

- ewan is mcfuckingdead

- snake be sliding in like a hoe on a business

- bfehfjdjfskf i hate this part

- arthur's pride, merlin’s pride, fuck me

- i'm not even gonna write this part, it breaks my fragile heart when arthur sees the look of people not believing him, especially his dad, and merlin seeing how arthur doesn't trust him anymore like prepare the eulogies girlies

- okay but if arthur is struck and gaius has the antidote?? arthur aint gonna die technically

- but now val knows merlin knows

- AND MERLIN INTERVENES

- why are royals so bitchy towards servants. like they do their best to help you??? they are loyal to you and are paid there to serve you and are often very kind, generous, passive, understanding people??? yet merlin interrupts uther and he fucking sends him to the pit

- VAL YOU ASS LMAO DON'T HURT MY SON’S PRIDE

- he said allegations like four times, yes uther we know ur vocab is shining with intellect but seriously, there’s other synonyms that could still be acceptable and still sound fancy

- quick search on google bc my mind doesnt roll fast enough: claim, assertion, charge, accusation, declaration, statement, contention, deposition, argument, affirmation. see daddy uther, not hard to look up.

- forget they didnt have internet whoopsies

- :((( arthur doesn't trust merlin anymore

- the husbands FIGHT

- not just a banter petty fight, this is a huge fight

- SACKING MERLIN DON'T FUCKING SACK MERLIN YOU GOOF

- TRUST UR HUBBY

- FUCK

- I'M GONNA CRY AND IT'S ONLY EPISODE TWO

- I'M HAVING EMOTIONAL PROBLEMS CONCERNING MY TWO BOYS

- GUYS IM NOT OKAy

- its been 2 minutes after i wrote that last sentence, and i am now okay

- “a half cannot truly hate that which makes it whole” iconic as hell. so many things could be said about that quote. either for innuendo purposes, love purposes, destiny purposes, how long it took me to say it right, just so many purposes man. it’s just iconic.

- merlin looks absolutely done with kilgaharama’s shit

- “just give me a straight answer” seems like kilgarass here is being too gay for merlin

- gwen already knows merlin’s the heroin of the series, saying everyone knows it's merlin who will save the day. but same tbh

- i dunno if this is like me or not but it says her nickname is gwyn in the subtitles but im typing it as gwen which i thought was how u wrote it, even if her full name is gwynevere but like gwen has a ring to it while gwyn sounds like gwin or smth and i dunno which one is right so ill just leave it alone ahjsjfk

- MORGANA HAS VISIONS WE ALREADY KNOW WHERE THIS GOES SHES MAGIC ISNT SHE HAHAHAHAUHD

- merlin trying one last time to convince his husband not to die, but at least this time arthur knows he’s up for val’s magic and is like “k iloveyou but i have to do this for the country not just bc of pride and thinking val is not magic”

- staring into the fire like he’s hoping it would suck him up into the void, not only is merlin a now confirmed emo, so is fucking arthur it seems. perfect for one another i'm telling you

- eerie music as morgana enters… wha suddenly i can't read

- i thought at first morgana and arthur were gonna end up together cause of the fucking weird tension going on and i was prepared to be disfuckinggusted but no! the show and producers actually put my expectations away and helped me see that it wasn’t going in that direction! thank fucking god!

- k but arthur looks majestic in his gear im just a huge bi

- “don’t go into my room” he says then gaius peaks in and almost gets mauled by a large chihuahua

- me too val, id step on someone's toes then fuck them up with an undercut. thats the bad bitch way to go. unless it for arthur, then val hahaha you can go fuck yourself

- no one sees mErLin??

- but they now see the snakes smh fakes

- “what are you doing? i didn't summon you” i don't think that will work val cause you didn't say it with a serpent tongue, it has to sound more like “shhashhwhat ahhssare hiisssyou iisshhaadoing?”

- okay but i thought arthur was impaled for a half second until he started to talk then i screamed that he was aight and he would now believe merlin

- uther better give merlin an apology

- arthur just said he wouldnt

- but still uther BETTER APOLOGISE TO FUCKING MERLIN

- “yknow i wish valiant was escorting me” “me too” i thought for a fricken moment arthur wished valiant would have escorted HIM. i'm dying.OMG

- “i wanted to say i made a mistake. it was unfair to sack you.” “don’t worry about it. buy me a drink and we’ll call it even.” DID YOU JUST SAY WHAT I THINK YOU JUST SAID MERLIN YOU SLY DOG OMG

- “i can’t really be seen to be buying drinks for my servant.” so if he wasn’t ur servant?? you’d say yes?? they are so fucking gay i can't anymore

- yeah, i literally fucking can't

#merlin #merlin bbc #merthur #s1 #this is early bc well it was already written #peeps up for the next one boys #tho its not done #expect it in a few days oop #s1.2

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teddy-feathers · 6 years

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If you smack your child. Physically intimidate. Grab them too rough or force them to look at something physically...

You can't complain that they're not listening to you/ don't listen to you when you talk.

I just realized that despite appreciating every time my dad took the time to go over something and tell me what the fuck Id done wrong and why it was important - even if those were two to four hour lectures following loud rage tantrums on his part - the reason I did it again later, don't remeber what the hell we talked about, was basically zoning while trying to focus, have no clue days later about the whole thing is because

I'm waiting for the violence to start again.

I couldn't see/ find something obvious because I needed to keep my eyes and attention on him

I couldn't tell you what he was saying because even though he's speaking calmly now that doesnt take away from what happened earlier

I'm still upset about it even if I feel calm now or can laugh at jokes

Like it's not that talking didn't work with me - hell it worked really well just sometimes protecting myself meant choosing between "fuck ups" sometimes hoping you didn't get caught was the best you could do to deal with shit on your own.

Hell. Help has always seemed worse than doing it on my own BECAUSE help was so often treated like a punishment - sure my parents usually found out last minute but thats because I didnt want but was not allowed to refuse help ever.

I remeber distinctly in highschool my dad was reaching for something on a shelf while I was doing dishes - I saw him lift his hand out of the corner of my eye and flinched. He was very much I haven't smacked you upside the head in years - which looking back I dont know if thats true -

But it doesnt matter

You've trainned your kids into a threat response mindset.

It doesn't matter that it wasnt "hard" that I'm not hurt. Doesnt matter if grabbing my neck or shoulder and forcibly turning me to face whatever it was that I missed didn't hurt me. I was scared. I was upset. I wanted desperately to pacify you.

Kinda hard to focus on calm reasonable lectures after that so its not a big wonder that he had to repeat himself a lot when I was growing up

... My dad used to go on about how Id cry at the drop of a hat and make him the bad guy and...

I dont remember the exact science behind it but did you know your kids as infants all the way growing up largly adapt to you. They TRY and make it easier for you to take care of them. This breaks down into several... Parent handling traits. I think the acronym is SMART or something i only heard a little bit about it.

So like. I hated crying when upset but I did it alot. But I also could and can go from crying to laughing and totally "okay" five seconds later becauses not being okay was punished.

Not. Actually punished. Not grounded or yelled at. Just. Attitude, interpersonal conflict between parents, notice which made anxious....

Hell thinking about it - having Avpd is directly a response from my family. Both good and bad attention did not turn out ok it felt like.

Mom and dads arguments happened because of how dad acted but. Nobody likes screaming matches between parents. Violence can be words. And I was always good and understanding what they were fighting about and how itd circle back to me if it didnt start there.

I didn't get it exactly right. I knew mom would defend me to dad when I got in trouble only eventually that felt bad because I had done something wrong but that... Was never the issue. It was how my dad handled the situation.

And every argument came back to I was making the same mistakes or fuck ups telling the same lies whatever so obviously the only thing I "understood" was yelling and being spanked and smacks upside the head.

I didnt understand that. I just. Stopped doing anything besides reading. I was just cowed. I was afraid. And when you did speak instead of yelling or physical intimidation I was still afraid.

I wanted to listen but youd made it so I couldnt. I was a dumb kid and I learned a lot of my bad habits as a defense against you. Maybe I was a manipulative lying lazy child but I didn't make you the bad guy.

You saw your kid as a villain and then proceeded to treat them like one, make them into one, instead of dealing with your child as a child.

And you treated your wife like a child because she didnt agree with you, because if youte not going to be happy no matter what happens why not treat herself. If youre going to take away her right to make desicions by giving her like a child right and wrong answers she's not going to want to be invovled or participate or even bother trying to help you do responsible things and shes going to continue to do things to spite you.

You think youre being forced to be a bully. You think things are black and white and yours is the logical way and youre good at trapping people into either agreeing with you or being "wrong"

My Aunt and Dad are a lot a like and god almighty the Hyde family is fucked up.

They want to treat you like people but they dont know how and so they do this shit and still think theyre in the right. And we're judgmental as fuck and make our decision and expect the world to get in line.

Ffs I'm only now learning to shedd myself and my past I dont know how the fuck to help mom but looking back I can see she needs it now.

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therealestatesparkblog · 5 years

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7 Creative Ways to Add BRs, BAs & Other Value-Adds to Your Rental [With Pics!]

Withapartments and other commercial real estate, its common to talk about a value add or a value play. These are basically improvements that you can add to a property to increase the propertys valuemore so than the cost of the improvement. Thus, value add investors are often looking for a property they can upgrade or alter in some way to increase value instead of simply investing in a performing asset and getting a certain return. While most single family investors think in terms of buying and rehabbing a property to be all in for 70 or 75percent of its market value,there are also value-add opportunities that can drastically improveyour ability to get the highest rent or sales price out of a single family home. 1. Adding a Bedroom The most important time by far to add a bedroom is when you have a 2-bedroom house, although this is only true if the house has enough square footage. Indeed, when you have more than three, sometimes you can afford to lose one. We had a house with four very small bedrooms once. People tend not to like small bedrooms, so we simply cut out a wall between two of them, and then instead of refinishing the hardwoods in that room, we added carpet to hide where the wall was on thefloor. Yes, we lost a bedroom, but there was now an awe-inspiring master bedroom to impress prospective tenants. Now, the reason it is so important to have at least three bedrooms if possible is that most families whohave kids want at least three bedrooms. Thats true even if they only have one child because often the third bedroom is used as an office. And given that,if you have a house with two decent sized bedrooms and can only make a small third, its probably worth doing. There are several things to look for when attempting to add a bedroom. The first thing you have to note is that unless you plan on building an addition (an expense that I dont believe is usually merited), you will need to sacrifice something for that extra bedroom. You must ask yourself, what are you willing to sacrifice? The best situation is when there is a bonus room. You do not want to turn all of your common areas into bedrooms. Youll need at least a living room and preferablya living room and a dining room. But houses often have a bonus room or something to that effect. As long as its large enoughin most cities, 10 feet by 10 feetall you need to dois add a door (maybe a wall) and a closet, and youve got a bedroom. And if the tenants who move in want it to be a bonus room, they will still have that option. Also, be on the lookout for extra large living rooms. You dont want to get rid of most of the common area, but some houses, particularly some older ones, are just laid out ridiculously. Taking a slice out of one of those rooms to add a bedroom has made sense for us on more than one occasion. Related: 8 Clever Ways to Save Big Bucks on Your Next Fix & Flip And, of course, there are more drasticways. 2. Garage Conversions I am usually not a fan of garage conversions. For one, they usually look awkward, even if you replace all the siding in front. Most of the time, it just seems like something is missing when you look at a house with a garage conversion. Indeed, a study by G. Stacy Simans and David A. Macpherson found that a garage added 13 percent to a propertys sales price, while an additional bedroom added only 4 percent withsquare footage being held constant. That being said,there are times when garage conversionsmake sense to do. There is a large subdivision called Ruskin Heights in Kansas City that is rather depressed. Virtually every house there is a 3-bed, 1-bath ranch. Manyof the tenants in thisarea are on Section 8. And since the amount Section 8 pays is partially based on the number of bedrooms,many investors converted the garage to an additional bedroom. There might also be situations where a house has only two bedrooms, but both an attached and detached garage or a 2-car garage. In these cases, it would sometimesmake sense to convert the garage. 3. Finishing Basements and Attics OK, I will note that I am almost always against finishing a basement. I have walked into far too many REOs with half-finished basements that some hapless homeowner thought they could take out a second mortgage on to finish before it all inevitably went awry. This is doubly true since many appraisals wont even count bedrooms, bathrooms, or square footage in finished basements (even walkouts). Instead, they just check a box titled finished basement and give you a little adjustment. For me to even consider finishing a basement, the following things must betrue: The neighborhood is strong.It is a walkout basement (one side is above ground, one is not) with easy egress. If both arenttrue, forget about it. If it is a walkout basement, finishing it might make sense, thoughespecially with basements that already havesolid walls and some sort of ceiling over the floor joists.For example, the following picture is in a finished basement because the other side of the house is below grade: Appraisals may not always consider this space, but buyers and renters sure will. Just make sure any bedroom you put in a basement has an egress window (one someone can get out of) in case theres a fire. Its against code for a bedroom not to have this. And one more quick note. Even if a basement is not a walkout, but is orderly and preferably (although not necessarily) has a ceiling,painting the walls white and the floor grey makes it come to life as a sort of semi-finished basement. And its really cheap to do:

4. Making a Half Bath Whole and Adding Bathrooms Some half bathrooms are really small, and theres just nothing you can do. But if there is extra space, its a good idea to finish it. That expense will almost always pay for itself. From that same study noted above, a full bathroom adds 24 percent to the price, whereas a half bathroom only adds 15 percent. Stand-up showers just dont take up that much space. So, for example, if a bathroom looks like this:

It very well is worth adding a shower since youve got the room, even though youd have to move the toilet and replace the vinyl to do so. As far as adding a full bathroom, unless it isa huge house, I would only consider it if the house had only one bathroom. Other than that, it really depends on the value of the house and whether there is space for it. In lower-end neighborhoods, it would generally not make sense. But in higher-end neighborhoods, it very well might. This is especially true if there is a genuine master bedroom that lacks a master bath. In those cases, I would likelyadd one. 5. Opening Up the Kitchen There is nothing that sells a house like the kitchen. Any confined, closed-off kitchen simply wont do. Sometimes, however, theres no good way to add space to a kitchen. Luckily, you can still make it feel open by opening up a wall to the living or dining room. It could be as simple as cutting a rectangle in a wall. And you can even add a bar top to that for an added bonus. Heres an example of one such god-awful kitchen we had:

Nowjust look at thedifference opening up that wall and adding a bar top made:

Andeven something like this helps immensely: 6. Adding Storage If a house has neither a garage nor a basement, it is probably a good idea to add a shed in the backyard. Peoplelike their stuff and need some storage for it. You can buyashed from Home Depot of Lowes for less than $1,000,anda lot of prospective renters and buyerswill need something like this in order to sign on the dotted lines. 7. Improving the Aesthetics (Particularly the Front) Never underestimate the power of aesthetics. Even small things can make the difference. Compare the following two pictures of the same 4-plex:

All we did herewas paint the trim, add window boxes and awnings, and it completely brought the property to life. Or even something more simple, like this:

Related: How to Reposition an Apartment Complex and Add $2,000,000 in Value in 12 Months There are all sorts of easy fixes like this that add far more value than theycost: Repaint the front or just the trimWash the house or power wash if need beAdd window shuttersAdd window boxesAdd window awningsRemove ugly window awningsRemove satellite dishesReplace an ugly exterior light fixturePaint the front doorReplace the mailbox and/or address numbersWeed kill the drivewayHedge the trees and bushes in front as well as basic lawn careAdd bark mulch to the front yardPlant grass if the lawn is deadAdd paver stones if there is no walkway to the house other than the lawnRepair any unsightly fences or gatesAdd some arborvitae or other plantsEtc.Conclusion There are certainly other ways to add value, including more drastic measures, such as mother-in-law quarters, turning the house into a duplex, adding an addition, etc. But for the most part, the above ideas can add substantial value to any flip or rental, and you should be at the ready to use them when the time comes. Were republishing this article to help out our newer readers.

What additions or renovations do you add to properties to increase value? Let me know with a comment! https://www.biggerpockets.com/renewsblog/7-creative-ways-add-bedroomsbathrooms-value-add-amenities-house/

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themoneybuff-blog · 6 years

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How to find your purpose in life: 12 powerful exercises to help you discover purpose and passion

Shares 298 Happy blogiversary! Twelve years ago today, I launched a humble little blog about personal finance this blog, Get Rich Slowly. It was meant as a way for me to share the things I was learning as I dug out of debt. It turned into so much more. For the next couple of weeks, Im on the road in the southeastern U.S., speaking to people about personal finance and meeting with readers. This morning, for instance, I spoke to the 76 people attending Camp FI in Spring Grove, Virginia. My topic? No surprise: The importance of having purpose in your life. As you can see, I am a PowerPoint genius

If youve spent any time reading my material, you know that I believe purpose is the foundation on which all plans financial and otherwise ought to be built. Purpose is a compass. It helps you set big goals, sure, but it also acts as a guide when times get tough. Your mother died? Your wife left? Your husband lost his job? If you know what your primary purpose is in life, these stressful events are much easier to deal with. For this presentation, I added a new twist. You see, a lot of folks who are interested in money tend to pick things like getting out of debt and becoming financially independent as their purpose or mission. But I think these are poor choices. Ive seen far too many folks make debt elimination a goal then fall right back into debt once theyve achieved it. And there are plenty of people who reach FI (or retire early) only to find they no longer know what to do. (Its like aiming to reach a certain weight instead of choosing to make lasting lifestyle changes that lead to weight reduction.) Instead, I think its important to recognize that your financial situation should be side effect of pursuing some greater purpose. Financial independence ought not be your aim; its merely a means to an end. When I speak about purpose (which is often), I tend to fall back to the George Kinder/Alan Lakein personal mission statement exercise. I feel like its one of the best available tools for helping people find focus. But its not the only tool. Today, to celebrate this sites twelfth birthday, I want to present twelve alternative exercises for discovering your purpose and passion. If youve tried one (or more) of these without success, try another. One of them is sure to be useful for you. Note: Ive done my best to credit sources for these exercises. (Many come from Barbara Shers excellent book Wishcraft, which is all about crafting the life you really want.) At the end of this article, Ill give you a list of recommended reading and tell you what I think is the single best book for discovering passion and purpose. Your One-Hundred Word Philosophy The first exercise is one I created myself. Its based on CrossFits world-class fitness in 100 words statement. Theres no time limit for this exercise, but it could take a while so be prepared. Your aim is to write out your life philosophy in exactly one hundred words no more and no less. This can take any form you want, from a statement of values to a list of instructions. Begin by writing down your core beliefs and values. It might also be helpful to think about books that have had a big impact on your life or powerful advice youve received in the past. Based on your experience and beliefs, what is your life philosophy? As an example, heres my own hundred-word philosophy, which Ive written as instructions to myself:

Some of those admonitions are my own invention. Some come from books like The Four Agreements and The Power of Now. Refuse to let fear guide your decision-making process, was advice from my girlfriend. Create your own luck is based on my friend Michelles advice to create your own certainty. Again: Target one hundred words exactly. Itll force you to spend time thinking and editing and being introspective. As you can see, I paid an artist friend to create a pretty letterpress poster of my 100-word philosophy, which Ive hung on the wall here at home. I look at it every day. Obviously, you dont have to go that far. Your Original Self This next exercise, which comes from Barbara Shers Wishcraft, sounds hokey at first. Turns out, however, that its a lot of fun to complete. Heres how it works. Set aside about half an hour for quiet contemplation. (Theres no writing involved in this exercise only thinking.) Let your mind wander back to your childhood. Remember what you used to do to have fun especially those times you especially treasured. When you were allowed to daydream or do whatever you wanted, what did you choose to do? Try to answer these questions: What sorts of things attracted and fascinated you when you were a kid?What sense smell, sight, hearing, taste, touch did you live through most? Or did you enjoy them all equally? What kinds of sensory experiences do you remember best?What did you love to do (or daydream about), no matter how silly or unimportant it might seem now? Did you have secret aspirations and fantasies that you never told anyone about? After thirty minutes of unstructured reverie, ask yourself a couple of questions. First, do you feel like theres a part of you that still loves the things you loved as a child? What do you miss most? Next, ask yourself what talents or abilities these childhood dreams and passions might point to in the present. What can you do today to reconnect with some of who you were as a kid? As I mentioned, I enjoyed this exercise. Although you dont have to, I wrote down what I liked as a kid: When I was a kid, I loved the outdoors. I loved to run and play outside. We lived in a small trailer house but were surrounded by acres and acres of land. We had freedom to romp across the fields, explore the nearby woods and orchards, and to browse the banks of the creeks. My favorite family vacations were those that involved camping. (Unfortunately, there werent many.) I loved looking at the insects and the plants. I liked digging in the dirt. I liked finding bones and rocks and shards of glass. I enjoyed playing games outside tag, dirt clod fights, whatever. I especially liked building forts. I liked going down to the big tree and hanging out under its branches. Yes, theres still a part of me that loves this sort of thing. I think thats one of the reasons Ive come to treasure the morning walks with the dog. Its an opportunity for me to explore the same stretch of ground over and over and over again. I truly enjoy watching how the woods and fields change a little every day. And thats probably one of the big reasons I enjoyed the RV trip. It forced me to connect to the world outside in a big way. What talents and abilities might this interest point to? Im not sure really. Who Do You Think You Are? This activity is short but effective. On a blank piece of paper, spend 5-10 minutes answering the question: Who do you think you are? How would you describe yourself to a total stranger? Be objective. What are most important characteristics that define your identity? There arent any right or wrong answers here, and theres only one rule: Dont overthink this. Put down the first and surest answers that come into your head, the ones that make you say, This is me. [This exercise also comes from Wishcraft.] Focus on Five Well explore the next exercise in greater depth next week when I write about goals. Youll find a version of this in nearly every book on productivity or positive psychology. This version is taken from Angela Duckworths Grit (which in turn borrowed it from billionaire Warren Buffett, who may have taken it from Alan Lakein). Heres how it works: Write down a list of your top twenty-five goals (or more). This might seem impossible at first, but give it a try. List all of the projects youre currently working on, both at home and at work. List all of the things you want to do but feel like theres no time. List at least twenty-five. More is beter.Next, review your list. Which goals are most appealing? Do some soul-searching it doesnt matter how and narrow the list to the five highest-priority objectives. Just five. Circle them (or copy them to another piece of paper).Lastly, look at the goals you didnt circle. These you avoid at all costs, writes Duckworth. Theyre what distract you; they eat away time and energy, taking your eyes from the goals that matter more. Harsh but true. If you need help prioritizing your goals it can be tough to sort through so many! rate each one on a scale of 1 to 10 based both on how interesting it is and how important it is. Then multiply those numbers together. For instance, if one of your goals has an interest rating of 9 (very interesting) and an importance rating of 3 (not that important), its score would be 27. Compare the scores. Higher is better. Duckworth says that she would add a fourth step to Buffetts exercise. Ask yourself: To what extent do these goals serve a common purpose? The more closely aligned your top five goals are, the better youll be able to focus on your passion (or purpose). When I write about goals next week, Ill ask you to do a different version of this exercise drawn from Sonja Lyubomirskys The How of Happiness. A Letter to the Future Heres another exercise thats common in self-help manuals. Youre going to contemplate and describe the personal legacy youd like to leave in this world. Think about how you want to be remembered by your grandchildren or great-grandchildren. (If youre childless like me, youll have to pretend.) In the form of a first-person letter, write a summary of your life, values, and accomplishments as youd like them known to your descendants. Pretend like youre near the end of your life and want to share the greatest hits version of your personal story for posterity. One common way to approach this is to pretend youre writing your own obituary. In The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People, Stephen R. Covey offers the following variation: In your minds eye, see yourself going to the funeral of a loved one. Picture yourself driving to the funeral parlor or chapel, parking the car, and getting out. As you walk inside the building, you notice the flowers, the soft organ music. You see the faces of friends and family you pass along the way. You feel the shared sorrow of losing, the joy of having known, that radiates from the hearts of the people there. As you walk down to the front of the room and look inside the casket, you suddenly come face to face with yourself. This is your funeral, three years from today. All these people have come to honor you, to express feelings of love and appreciation for your life. As you take a seat and wait for the services to begin, you look at the program in your hand. There are to be four speakers. The first is from your family, immediate and also extended children, brothers, sisters, nephews, nieces, aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents who have come from all over the country to attend. The second speaker is one of your friends, someone who can give a sense of what you were as a person. The third speaker is from your work or profession. And the fourth is from your church or some community organization where youve been involved in service. Now think deeply. What would you like each of these speakers to say about you and your life? What kind of husband, wife, father, or mother would you like their words to reflect? What kind of son or daughter or cousin? What kind of friend? What kind of working associate? What character would you like them to have seen in you? What contributions, what achievements would you want them to remember? Look carefully at the people around you. What difference would you like to have made in their lives? Make no mistake: This can be a powerful exercise. Tear-inducing, even. Thats okay. By thinking about how youd like people to remember you in the future, after youre gone, you can take steps to align your present self and actions with that ideal vision. 20 Things You Like to Do Heres another exercise from Barbara Shers Wishcraft. She says she borrowed it from Sid Simons Values Clarification. To begin, list twenty things you like to do. You must come up with twenty. Thats the only rule. Dont cop out and make a list of four things you like to do. Or twelve. List at least twenty. (You can write down more, if you like.) Now youre going to make a chart. Take a fresh piece of paper. Down the left side of the page, in the first column of the chart, copy your list of twenty things you like to do. (The order is completely unimportant.) Now, across the top of the page create 8-10 columns. Label them like this (you might have to write tiny): How long since you last did this activity? Free or costs money? Alone or with somebody? Planned or spontaneous? Job related? Physical risk? Fast-paced or slow-paced? Mind, body, or spiritual? Feel free to add other categories that occur to you. (At home or in the world? Spouse likes also? Enjoyed a decade ago? Whatever. Its your list.) Now go through your chart and fill it out for each of your interests. What patterns emerge? What do these patterns tell you about your self and life? To illustrate what this chart ought to look like, I did the exercise myself. It was enlightening. And it took me longer to complete than I expected. I could come up with sixteen things I like to do, but expanding the list to twenty was tough. Heres a screenshot of my list. (Because Im a nerd, I used a spreadsheet instead of a piece of paper.)

Kind of sad (and hilarious) to note that this list is in the order I thought of things. So, that means computer games came to mind as something that I like to do before sex did. Yikes! Looking at my list, it seems like I do a pretty good job of doing the things I like to do. Not perfect but good. Theres also a good balance of free activities vs. activities that cost money, and an even divide between social and alone time. But its clear that most of the things I like to do are spontaneous, not work-related, mental, and most of all slow. The only activity on my list thats truly adrenaline-inducing is riding my motorcycle. Who Do You Want to Be? This exercise is based on a conversation I had with my friend Tyler Tervooren. On a blank piece of paper, make a list of qualities and habits youd like to develop. Do you want to ride your bicycle every morning? Do you want to be more patient with your children? Do you want to be more helpful to your co-workers? Do you want to read the Bible every day? Do you want to drink less alcohol? It doesnt matter what order you write these in. Take as long as you need to make your list. When youve finished, reframe each item using the following format: I am the kind of man who [blank] where [blank] is the habit or quality youre trying to develop. (And obviously, if youre a woman please reframe each of these as I am the sort of woman who [blank].) For example, if you wrote down that youd like to get in the habit of waking 10,000 steps every day, you might reframe that as: I am the kind of woman who walks 10,000 steps every day. Or, better: I am the kind of woman who walks everywhere she can. If one of your aims is to talk less about yourself and pay more attention to others, you might write: I am the kind of man who listens first and talks second. Im genuinely interested in what others have to say. Now copy each of these sentences onto an index card one for each habit. Place these index cards by your bedside. Every morning when you wake up, train yourself to look at these cards first thing. Read through all of them to remind yourself of the habits and qualities youd like to develop. Finally, choose one to make your focus for that day. Keep it in mind as you go about your normal routine, and do your best to live up to the affirmation. Tyler says this habit helped him make real and lasting changes to his life. He built new habits to replace some of the tendencies that had been giving him trouble.

Who You Might Have Been Imagine you grew up with all of the resources financial, emotional, educational you could have possibly wanted or needed. Your interests were encouraged and fostered. You had help and encouragement in all that you did. You werent limited by time or money or location. In a perfect world, what do you think you would be doing now? What would you already have done? What kind of person would you be? Think big. Be as extravagant and far-fetched as youd like. Whats the one big dream you would have pursued if everything had gone your way? If you really would have wanted to become President, then say youd be President. If you would have become a movie star, say youd be a movie star. Dont hold back. Let your imagination fly free in whatever direction it desires. Dont pull any punches. Answer truthfully. Describe what this ideal life might look like. [This exercise also comes from Wishcraft.] The Ideal Schedule In David James Duncans The River Why, Gus, the main character, decides at a young age that in an ideal world he would fish 14-1/2 hours per day. Hes still in high school when he formulates the following plan: The Ideal 24-Hour Schedule sleep: 6 hoursfood consumption: 30 min. (between casts or while plunking, if possible)school: 0 hours!bath, stool, etc.: 15 min. (unavoidable)housework and miscellaneous chores: 30 min. (yards unnecessary; dust not unhealthy; utilitarian neatness easily accomplished)nonangling conversation: 0 hrs.transportation: 45 min. (live on good fishing river)gear maintenance/fly-tying/rod-building/log-keeping, etc.: 1 hr. 30 min.fishing time: 14-1/2 hrs. per day! Then, in true money boss fashion, Gus brainstorms ways he can pursue his purpose: Ways to Actualize Ideal Schedule finish school; no college!move alone to year-round stream (preferably coastal)avoid friendships, anglers not excepted (wastes time with gabbing)experiment with caffeine, nicotine, to eliminate excess sleepdo all driving, shopping, gear preparation, research, etc. after dark, saving daylight for fishing only Result (allowing for unforeseeable interruptions): 4,000 actual fishing hrs. per year!!! I love it. (And I intend to use this example in future talks, so be prepared.) Gus knows his purpose and by brainstorming his ideal schedule, hes able to figure out ways to put this dream into action. In Wishcraft, Barbara Sher suggests a similar exercise. Heres how it works. Grab paper and pen. Seclude yourself somewhere quiet. Close your eyes. Imagine your ideal day. Imagine a day that would be perfect if it represented your usual days not a vacation day. Just a regular, average day if your schedule were ideal. Spend a few minutes visualizing what such a day would look and feel like. Once your ideal schedule begins to become clear, write down what its like in the present tense and in detail from getting up in the morning to going to sleep at night. I might say, for instance: I wake up at 5:30 already in my gym clothes. I grab a piece of fruit, hop on my bike, and ride to the gym. I do an hour of Crossfit. I ride home, grab the dog, and take her for a walk. When we get back to the house at around 8:30, I spend four hours writing about money. And so on. As you write about your ideal day, think about the following: Whats the first thing you do when you wake up? What do you have for breakfast? Do you make it yourself or does somebody bring it to you? Do you take a long, hot bath? Or do you take a cold, bracing shower? What clothes do you wear? How do you spend your morning? How do you spend your afternoon? How do you spend your evenning? At each time of the day, are you indoors or outdoors? Quiet or active? With people or alone? As you envision your ideal schedule, focus on what, where, and who. What are you doing? What kind of work? What kind of play? Dont limit yourself. If youd like to sing or sail but dont know how, in this fantasy you do know how.Where are you? What kind of place, space, and situation? Are you on a farm in rural England? In a New York office building? On a sailboat in the South Pacific? In a fully-equipped workshop? Again, youre not on vacation. Youre imagining a normal day but an ideal day. Where are you?Who are you with? Who do you work with? Who do you live with? Who do you talk with? Who do you sleep with? Maybe its the same people you work and sleep with already. Maybe its somebody else. Let your imagination go. Dont put down only what you think is possible put down the kind of day youd like to live if you had absolute freedom, unlimited means, and all the powers and skills youve ever wished for. Note: Before (or after) you complete the ideal day exercise, you might find it useful to figure out how you actually spend your time right now. For that, I suggest performing a week-long time inventory. On the advice of Paula Pant, I tracked my time last summer and it was very enlightening. It helped me see where I was frittering away my minutes and hours. For more info and instructions on doing a time inventory, visit Laura Vanderkams website where you can grab free downloadable PDF forms and spreadsheets to help track your time in fifteen-minute increments. What Color Are You? This exercise from Wishcraft is for the more right-brained artistic folks. You analytic engineer types might not like it. (On the other hand, it might be good for you to actually complete it!) Heres how it works. Choose a color that represents you. It might be your favorite color or it might not. It ought to be a color that, at this moment, feels like you. The best way to do this is to have an array of colors in front of you. If you have a box of crayons, go get it. If not, heres a page with a bunch of colors. Youre now going to role-play that color. You are going to pretend you are that color. Youre going to think like that color, speak like that color, act like that color. Take a sheet of paper. Write: I am red or I am orange or I am carnation blue. Do not say I like blue because or I think blue is. For the rest of this exercise, you are that color. Now, in a few sentences to a few paragraphs, describe what qualities you have as that color not as yourself. For instance: I am dark blue. Im quiet and deep like the ocean. Or: I am yellow. Im bright and cheerful, intelligent and warm. There are no right answers to this exercise. If youre black, be black! I think Suzanne Vegas Small Blue Thing is a great example of what you might do with this activity. [embedded content] What color am I? Im orange, of course. The 14-Word Description This exercise comes from my friend Amy Jo. Several years ago, she did a photo project in which she took portraits of people she knew. Before each session, she asked the subject: What are the fourteen words that best describe you? For our purposes, I want you to brainstorm as many words as possible to describe who you are. You should come up with a minimum of fourteen, but its better to brainstorm more. Dont ask others to describe you. Your aim here is to describe yourself. How do you see yourself? If you come up with more than fourteen words to describe yourself, narrow the list to only the fourteen that fit you best. Lastly, for each word write a short sentence that describes why you chose it. For instance, if one of your words was athletic, your descriptive sentence might be, I enjoy playing sports and being outdoors. Here are the fourteen words I chose to describe myself six years ago. (Theyre all still accurate.) Adventurous I love to try new things.Creative I love to make new things.Curious I love to learn new things.Evolving Im a different man today than I was yesterday.Independent I make and act on my own decisions.Intelligent I am smart.Playful I like to joke and jest.Positive I look on the bright side.Resourceful I search for ways to get things done.Sociable I enjoy the company of others.Tenacious I pursue my goals with vigor.Unguarded I share myself freely, and I accept the word of others.Versatile I am good at many things.Zealous Im passionate about my friends and hobbies. Heres one of the portraits from our 14-words photo shoot. I look so serious!

When I gave Amy Jo my list, she made an interesting observation. When adults do this exercise, their words are always positive, she told me. But when kids do it, they describe themselves using both positive and negative words. Its as if theyre more aware of their shortcomings or at least more willing to admit them. Three Questions about Life Planning Last of all, heres the exercise I use most often. The father of the life-planning movement, George Kinder, is a certified financial planner and the author of The Seven Stages of Money Maturity. To identify and clarify your direction in life, Kinder suggests thinking about three hypothetical situations: Imagine that you have enough money to take care of your needs, now and in the future. How would you live your life? Would you change anything? What would you do with the money?Now imagine that you visit the doctor and she tells you that you have 5-10 years left to live. She says that you wont feel sick, but youll have no notice of the moment of your death. What would you do in the time you have left? Would you change your life? How?Finally, imagine your doctor shocks you with the news that you only have 24 hours left to live. If you only had a day remaining, what dreams would you leave unfulfilled? What would you wish you had finished? What would you wish you had done or been? What would you have missed? These questions which are based on the work of time-management guru Alan Lakein are powerful tools for figuring out what you want out of life. If you take the time to really ponder them and answer them honestly, they can help you clarify your personal values and set meaningful goals. Over the past five years, Ive shared this exercise with hundreds of people. Many who took it seriously have written to tell me it changed their lives. It changed my life too. Maybe itll change yours. Recommended Reading In this article, Ive done my best to credit sources. A couple of these exercises are my own the hundred-word exercise, for instance but most are not. Most are borrowed from books. But there are plenty of excellent books out there that can help you figure out what you want out of life even if they dont ask readers to fill out forms our meditate on whats important. Victor Frankls classic Mans Search for Meaning, for example, is a work that almost everyone refers to. Its a ground-breaking short book about how to find purpose even under the worst circumstances. But it doesnt contain any reader homework. Here then are a few of my favorite purpose-related books. You might like them too: To my mind, however, the best book on this subject is relatively new: Angela Duckworths Grit: The Power of Passion and Perseverance. This was my favorite book of 2016. If I could make it required reading, I would. Its that good. Ive listend to the audio version nearly a dozen times (including yesterday during my 21-hour trip home from Florida). Grit is dense with information and ideas. Duckworth makes a convincing argument that passion and perseverance or, in Money Boss lingo, purpose and patience are the best predictors of success. If you can hone in on a single top-level purpose then doggedly pursue it, your life will be filled with meaning and happiness. Great stuff. I hope to publish a review of the book sometime soon. As I said at the start, your purpose is your compass. Its your mission. Its what gives your life direction and meaning. To support your purpose, however, youve got to set up a personal action plan built around a hierarchy of goals. Next week, Ill share some thoughts (and exercises) on how to set goals and structure life to pursue your purpose. How do you put your personal misson statement to use? Well talk about that in just a few days. In the meantime: Tell me about your purpose. What is it? Do you have a personal mission statement? Which of these exercises do you find effective? Are there others that are better? Shares 298 https://www.getrichslowly.org/finding-purpose/

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viralhottopics · 7 years

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Dear White, Christian Trump Supporters: We Need To Talk

Plenty of pundits keep telling us progressives that we didnt listen to them in the heartland to you of the white working class, to you of conservative Christianity.

Actually, I grew up as one of you. Ive listened to you my whole life, but I dont think I know how to understand you at all.

I suppose now youd consider me part of the so-called liberal elite. Im a west coast university professor with a Ph.D. and almost 30 years of teaching experience. But Im the daughter of a Southern Baptist, working-class pipe fitter at a paper mill in a small, conservative town in northwest Georgia.

My parents did not go to college (my father finally earned a degree after hed retired from the paper mill). Only one of my four grandparents finished high school. I studied hard, got a scholarship, kept studying, kept working, and I moved into the white collar middle class.

My white conservative Christian upbringing had told me that was the American Dream to work hard and succeed. I did, and I feel youre holding it against me now that I no longer share your views. I think you must imagine the liberal elite as East Coast, Ivy League-educated, trust fund babies completely out of touch with how most people live.

Sure, some faculty members grew up with money. Some went to Ivy League schools. But a lot of us professors were you working class kids who did whatever it took to get a college education. Along the way, a lot of us developed progressive ideas, not out of our privilege, but out of our own experiences of discrimination, struggle, and oppression.

We read and argued and wrote and rewrote. We got peer-reviewed, over and over and over. Our ideas are held to incredibly high, rigorous standards, and so, when we speak we do so carefully, thoughtfully, with nuance, and with openness because sometimes we are also wrong. But because weve studied hard and held ourselves up to professional standards, we really do know a lot about what were talking about, and we have something to offer in a real conversation across our differences (including the East Coast Ivy Leaguers who arent as out of touch as you may think). But I dont think you want to hear us or me.

You tell me I need to get over Trumps election and stop being a sore loser. But politics is not a sport. We dont choose teams and simply cheer ours on to victory. My beloved Atlanta Falcons lost the Super Bowl, and, painful though that was, I will get over it. It hurts, but I wont protest, march, write letters, or otherwise resist the outcome, even if we discover New Englands balls were deflated. Its a game, but its not life or death.

This election, however, is exactly that. Perhaps you can tell me to get over it because you do not have to worry that Trump will appoint a Supreme Court justice that could play a role in invalidating your marriage. If Congress passes and Trump signs the First Amendment Defense Act, you probably wont have to worry that a bakery, restaurant, or hotel might legally deny you service. You dont have to worry about being stranded at an airport and refused admission to the U.S. because of the country youre from or the religion you practice. You dont have to worry about having your family divided across the world with a simple signature on an executive order.

You say you are aggrieved because you have not achieved what you think you deserve or you think some less deserving other has taken it. Despite having moved into the middle class, I have spent my career teaching about and advocating for labor unions, a living wage, affordable childcare, social security, affordable healthcare, accessible higher education. Progressives are actually the ones who support the economic programs and policies that could make a difference for the working class.

You have a right to be aggrieved, but I fear you are targeting the wrong people. Low paying jobs, job insecurity, companies moving work overseas, low benefits, little vacation these are the results of decades of policies that benefit the truly wealthy those whose wealth depends not on the labor of their hands but on their ability to exploit the production of poorly paid laborers. The problem is not that immigrants have taken your jobs or drained money from the safety net. The problem is that the system of wealth sets workers against one another so they do not target the real economic power that limits their work and financial security.

You say you want progressives to listen to you. Then prioritize truth. This election was filled with fake news, shared widely on Facebook, and this administration already has begun to create a language of alternative facts to misinform and mislead. If you want to talk, offer evidence, real evidence based on verifiable data and reliable sources, not wishful imaginings or fabricated Breitbart stories. An internet meme is not an informed and legitimate point of argument that facilitates dialogue. Weve reached a point where youd rather believe an overt lie if it supports a belief you already hold than pursue the truth if it might challenge your currently held belief.

The Bible tells us God is a God of truth and the truth will set us free. Yet you chose someone who lies with impunity. I want to understand how you choose to ignore the evidence that is right in front of your eyes photos of the crowds at two different inaugurations, for example. How do you accept what is proven to be a lie? How do you support someone who, rather than correct the record, doubles down on his lies?

Especially, how do you do this in the name of the God of truth? Before the election I saw one of you whod written as an evangelical Christian in support of Trump that God can use anyone. So help me understand why you thought God could use a man whod said hed never asked God for forgiveness, who serially committed adultery, who said he could grab women by the genitals, who cheated contractors and workers, but you didnt think God could use a woman who is a Christian, a lifelong Methodist and who, from the heart, quotes the Bible and John Wesley (when Trump didnt even know how to say Second Corinthians, which he called Two Corinthians, and when asked for his favorite Bible verse struggled to name one until he landed on an eye for an eye. And you know what Jesus said about that one).

I know youve been offended that progressives have called you racist for voting for Trump. I understand that. You dont see yourself as racist. But you did knowingly vote for someone who insulted Latinos, Blacks, Muslims, and Jews. And women. And LGBTQ people. And people with disabilities. Help me understand how that squares with the notion of Gods love for all people.

Can you really imagine Jesus using the words Trump did about these groups of people? How would you characterize voting for someone who is overtly racist? Help me understand how you align your Christian perspective with his racism, misogyny, homophobia, Islamophobia, and antisemitism.

Im afraid that what you want is a nation that conforms to your interpretation of the Bible. Thats where we really run into trouble because that would require you to force your particular conservative Christian beliefs on everyone else. I dont understand how people who want to claim religious liberty for themselves are so unwilling to give it to everyone, which is actually the premise of true religious liberty.

You say you want a Christian nation, but our founders were clear that was never their goal. In fact, the Constitution goes to great lengths to protect the government from religion and religion from government. I also get the sense that you think people are not Christians if they arent Christian in the same way as you. But cant we find some common ground? Cant we agree that all people should be free to practice their religion or practice no religion and should be safe from coercion based on religion? Cant we agree that we share values of love, kindness, respect, and community and then try to live those with each other? Do you really think a Christian, especially a biblical literalist, can want a wall built?

The Bible is clear about how we are to treat foreigners among us no matter how they got here. What if the Egyptians had built a wall before Mary and Joseph fled from King Herod? Our Christian story starts with a refugee family. Can we not practice our shared Christian values with immigrants and refugees coming to our country?

Cant we find common ground on issues like, say, abortion? I think we could have a common goal of lowering abortion rates. After all, you will never end abortions. Maybe you can end the safe, legal ones, but, one way or another, women will still have abortions. They will just be more likely to die from them.

And heres where I think dealing with facts is crucial to find common ground. We know that abortion rates are lower worldwide when there is no global gag order. We also know that what is most successful in lowering abortion rates is access to contraception, accurate sex education, and personal and economic empowerment for women.

To cling to overturning Roe v. Wade as the only way to end abortions is a fantasy based on ideology rather than medical science and social science, and it flies in the face of the evidence for what is successful. So the real question is are you more interested in actual effectiveness in lowering abortion rates or ideological purity? We can lower abortion rates together but not by denying women choices over their own bodies. We can be effective together by listening to the data and working together to ensure all women have access to contraception, education, and social and economic resources. Are you willing to have that conversation?

Ive heard some of you say that well just have to agree to disagree, but thats a problem. You see, were not talking about ideas here. Were talking about actual human lives. If we were talking about predestination or modes of baptism or premillennialism, Id say, sure, lets agree to disagree. The stakes are pretty low. But if were talking about the rights of people to access housing, clean water and air, and healthy food or the possibility of a nuclear arms race or discrimination written into law or women losing basic life-saving health screenings, or young black men being incarcerated disproportionately, or Native peoples having their sacred sites desecrated and their water poisoned, or Muslim people being targeted for their faith, then the stakes are much higher, and I cannot simply agree to disagree.

Thats why Im writing you now. We need to talk, and I dont know how to talk to you anymore. I need to know, is it more important to you to win than to do good? Or can we build coalitions? Listen to science? Rely on real evidence? Be effective? Put the needs and rights of all others above ideologies? Can we live the love of God we claim? You want me to hear and understand you. I get that. I also want you to hear and understand the rest of the world that is not you or your kind. Because they too are Gods people and therefore are in the circle of those whom we must love. You taught me that when I was a child. If we can agree on that now, we have a place to start.