#did you know you can GROW YOUR OWN PUMPKINS

[oreoambitions]

housemate: we should make zucchini bread me: should we... grow some zucchini housemate: ... buying it from the store *does* feel a little like cheating now, yeah

#we have a whole stardew valley deal going in the backyard #there are more than 100 crops growing back there #I have bought one (1) vegetable since March #I know so much about mildew now #ask me about the watering requirements for beans #did you know there are so many kinds of beans #did you know you can grow sunflowers year round in some places #did you know you can GROW YOUR OWN PUMPKINS #the kitchen windowsill is now an ICU for plant babies #I spent my whole day off last week reading about crop rotation #what is GOING ON HERE #we have ten kinds of strawberry!!!!! #oreo rambles

[jobean12-blog]

Feelin' Gourd

Pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 1,454

Summary: You really want to go on a trip to the farm but not with the girls this year. This year you want your husband to take you and even though he's the boss and busy a lot he always makes time for you, even if it means stepping out of his usual role and being soft and sweet...because for you, he'll do anything.

Author's Note: So I've decided that mob!Bucky is one of my kinks, especially when he's a big softie for his woman. And honestly, he's perfect! So here's my first kinktober '23 story featuring mob!Bucky and his softie side. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always❤️❤️❤️ and Happy October! Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: It's fun and fluffy and sweet and soft!

Steve escorts the men out of Bucky’s office and down the hall. He smiles warmly at you before his face hardens into it’s usual work mask again as he practically pushes the men out the door.

With a soft goodnight to you he shuts and locks the door of your house.

Without waiting another second you skip to Bucky’s office, stopping in the doorway when you see him focused on his phone.

“There you are doll face,” he croons.

He looks up as he sets his phone down on his desk.

“Work done?” you ask sweetly.

“All done,” he says as he holds out his arms for you.

You rush into the room and around his desk, falling against his chest and nuzzling his neck as he drags you onto his lap.

“Mm,” he hums appreciatively as you wrap yourself around him.

He kisses your temple, taking your face in his hands before pulling your mouth to his. The kiss starts out sweet and soft but swiftly grows deeper as his fingers search for the bottom of your shirt, sneaking beneath to feel more of your skin.

“Bucky,” you breathe out, pulling away enough to look into his eyes.

“What?” he asks, slightly breathless himself. “Missed you today.”

He gives you his best boyish smirk, the one reserved only for you, and it makes your heart flutter.

“Missed you too,” you whisper, peppering his check with butterfly kisses, “but…”

His lips find yours again and your words are lost against his mouth, his hands dancing higher until he’s toying with the clasp of your bra.

He unhooks it with ease and starts to peel it off under your shirt.

“Buckyyyy,” you pout.

“Doll,” he groans as his hands roam over your newly exposed skin.

“I wanted to ask you something.”

He stops his caresses, giving you a disgruntled look.

Your expression falls and he immediately brushes his thumb across your lips, cradling your cheek and drawing you closer.

“No, none of that now baby doll. I’m sorry. Talk to me.”

You instantly brighten and he growls out a mumbled curse, knowing you totally got one over on him. With a bright and triumphant smile you toy with his tie, mindlessly adjusting it as you begin to talk.

“I want you to take me pumpkin picking.”

His eyes widen and he blinks several times. “Pumpkins? Like on a farm?”

You nod excitedly, bouncing in his lap. “YES! We can pick our own to carve and get some for the front of the house and even get apple cider donuts and hot apple cider and take home a pie or pick apples to make a pie and maybe even go for a hay ride!”

Your enthusiastic wave of words rushes out and he can hardly keep up and all the while you’re still fiddling with his tie and the collar of his shirt, smoothing out each until they’re perfect.

“Didn’t you go do this with the girls last year?” he asks softly but with a smile.

“I did,” you start, pouting a bit. “But I want to go with you!”

He opens his mouth to speak but you press a finger to his lips.

“PLEASE! PRETTY PLEASE! PRETTY PLEASE WITH A CHERRY ON TOP!”

When you’re done with your pleading he grabs your wrist and holds you finger to his mouth, kissing the tip softly before pushing your other fingers up so he can kiss them all too.

“Of course I’ll take you,” he whispers.

You squeal in delight and kiss him, trying to pull away to tell him more about what you can do at the farm but he keeps you pressed firmly against him as he spins his desk chair and lifts you out of his lap, placing you on the edge of his desk.

When he finally releases your lips you nibble your bottom one, watching as he kneels down, spreading your legs and tugging on your panties.

“Thank you Bucky,” you whisper.

“I didn’t even do anything yet doll,” he teases.

“I meant for agreeing to go pumpkin picking with me.”

“You know I’d do anything to make you happy,” he murmurs, kissing along your calf, his fingers massaging your soft skin as he moves higher.

Bucky struts out of your walk-in closet, adjusting the collar on his shirt before smiling at you.

“Ready doll face?” he asks.

You look him over from head to toe then sashay your way into his arms. “I am…but I think you might need to change.”

He frowns. “Why? I thought my red shirt was good…fall color and all.”

“Oh the red is perfect,” you assure him. “But I’m not sure you need to wear one of your three-hundred-dollar Prada shirts to the farm.”

“Huh,” he muses. “Am I going to get dirty?”

“The pumpkins are sometimes muddy or dirty with soil and there’s lots of dust and vines…if there are horses and other animals there might be…”

“So I should lose my Prada loafers too then?”

He grins, looking slightly sheepish.

“Definitely,” you giggle, giving him a soft kiss. “But the jeans are perfect.”

You step back to let your eyes roam over his thick thighs that are on full display in the tight denim.

He starts to unbutton his dress shirt but you stop him, slowly undoing each button yourself until it hangs open and reveals his tanned and toned chest and stomach. You ghost your fingernails down his skin, watching his muscles flex from your touch.

When you push the shirt from his shoulders you sigh, “why can’t you just go like this?”

He huffs out a laugh and adjusts his belt, drawing your attention to the trail of dark hair that lines his lower stomach and the disappears into his jeans.

“Still wanna go pumpkin picking doll?” he asks wearing an amused and smug smirk.

You slowly drag your eyes up to his and cock your hip out, placing your hand there and stealing your features.

“YES! Now find a tee shirt and hoodie and change your shoes.”

“Where are my hoodies. I thought you stole them all,” he says as he’s walking back into the closet.

“I left you one…maybe two!”

“What about a flannel?” he calls out.

“Perfet,” you reply.

Once he’s dressed in his soft tee and even softer flannel, his feet clad in leather lace up boots you head for the door.

It’s still early when you get to the farm so there aren’t many people around yet. You and Bucky walk hand in hand under the warm sunshine toward the pumpkin patch.

“What are we looking for exactly?” he asks, eyeing the rows of orange squash.

“I want some really big ones for the front of the house! And then we need two for carving and some smaller ones for more decoration. And I want gourds too…they have a lot of different colors and shapes!”

“Am I supposed to carry them all?”

He looks suspicious and when you start to smile he takes you in his arms brushes his lips against yours.

“I will if that’s what you need me to do.”

You melt into him, sliding your arms around his waist. “As much as I’d love to see you trying to carry all these pumpkins, we can just get a wagon.”

You peek around him and point to the red wagons lined up along the fence.

“Phew,” he says with a laugh.

You walk through the patch, Bucky dragging the wagon behind him as you gush over every pumpkin you see, picking them up, inspecting them and asking for his insight. He takes his job seriously, examining each one with thorough precision before giving you his honest review.

“This one is perfect for carving,” he says, holding up the tall but still wide pumpkin with a good flat face.

“It is!” you cheer. “What are you going to carve?”

He stands there, looking from you to the pumpkin. “I have no idea!”

You bend over with laughter, loving to see your husband in such a relaxed state but also taking the pumpkin picking so seriously. He never does anything half-assed.

After he sets the pumpkin in the cart he looks over what you’ve picked so far. “One more?”

You throw your arms around his neck. “I love you so much. I’m having the best time.”

He wraps you in his embrace, nestling his face into your neck. “Love you more doll and me too.”

“Before we pick more can we get some cider and donuts? I’m hungry.”

“Of course,” he says, tucking you under his arm. “I hope they sell these donuts by the dozen. I have a feeling I’m going to want more than one.”

@randomfandompenguin @book-dragon-13 @goldylions @blackwidownat2814 @buckysdollforlife @hiddles-rose @kmc1989 @lizette50

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #mob!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #mob!bucky x reader #mob!bucky #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #mob au #mafia au #bucky au #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #kinktober 2023

[zolanort]

Hyrule is a fine cook, you guys are just mean.

I will start by pointing out that Wild says the ham water is really tasty. Who is going to be a better judge of the ham water? The one who has eaten nothing but pastries and croissants his whole life?

The lord of pumpkin spice? The army guy who probably lived off of MRE equivalents? The rancher who chugs literal grubs?

Or the one person who is so good with food that he is universally recognized as the cook?

Kudos to you if you chose the grub chugger, nothing wrong with eating bugs, but the correct answer was Wild; Wild is the best choice for judge. Partially because he has 1000x more experience with food than the others (statistics taken from my own save files), but mostly because no one else in the group has any significant experience with cooking their own food. Twi did his best helping with that stinky fish for Yeto's soup but it doesn't count.

As the croissant eater points out, the meat looks old.

For it to be old but not have started rotting, it would have to be cured meat (we’ll say ham because what better way to spite Ganon than by eating pig for lunch). Hyrule has probably even upgraded since his first adventure and it’s not just your basic salted ham food (which already costs about the same as a magic shield in game), it’s probably the Hyrulian equivalent of Jamón Ibérico de Bellota from his buddy pal Zelda(s) at the castle. I know I’d give someone a fancy ham for saving my kingdom twice. Hyrule is basically a gourmet at this point. You need quality nutrients to grow healthy hair, as our traveler pointed out, and who has the bestest most fluffiest hair? Hyrule does. Look at the fluffy:

It is absolutely possible to make tasty soup from the most basic 100 rupee cured ham. That’s a real thing that real people do in real life. You can even do it with 50 rupee ham in a can if you’re desperate (I say 50 rupee instead of 25 because of inflation). Hyrule put the bone in too so not only is there the salty flavor from the cured meat, he very well could have been making a nice bone broth for his injured colleague (he could have put other ingredients in off screen too but that’s beside the point). Ever heard of ham bone broth or other broth based soups? Ham and lentils soup? Probably not if you are a croissant eater who never had to cook ham water for yourself on the road. Croissants aren’t even that good unless they have chocolate in the middle, and that’s just because of the chocolate. If you’re going through the effort of laminating all that dough you should just go all the way and make something actually good like pastéis de nata.

Anyway, Hyrule is implied to be a terrible cook and I love that for him. Mostly I just wanted to take this chance to complain about croissants.

#i actually do love lethal chef hyrule please don't be discouraged from writing him that way this was a joke #ham water appreciation #croissant depreciation #grubs aren't that bad either if you were wondering #lu hyrule #linked universe #linkeduniverse

[tarotwithavi]

Letter from your soulmate

How to choose a pile?

Take a deep breath and gently close your eyes. Politely request your spirit guides to reveal the appropriate pile meant for you, then open your eyes. Whichever pile captures your attention is the one meant for you.

Masterlist

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Pile 1

My lovely apple pie,

As I sit here, pen in hand, my heart overflows with emotions for you. I want you to know that I understand how incredibly challenging and exhausting life has been for you lately. I can feel your pain, and it pains me deeply too. I yearn to be there for you, to hold you close, and to be your source of strength and comfort. Every tear you shed echoes in my soul, and I wish I could wipe them away. The distance between us feels like an insurmountable obstacle, but please believe me when I say that I would cross oceans and traverse mountains just to be by your side. However, I also realize that now might not be the ideal time for us to fully come together. We both need to heal, to mend the wounds of the past, so that we can create a love that is pure, unburdened by old hurts.

Always remember that even though we might not physically be together, I am there with you in the depths of my heart, forever connected in the 5D. In moments of doubt or despair, recall the strength of our love and how much you mean to me. You are more precious to me than words can ever express. I confess that my love for you is so profound, it sometimes scares me. My protective instincts arise because I cannot bear the thought of anything or anyone causing you harm. And yet, I know I must let you be, let you experience life's journey and growth, but please know that my love is unwavering.

As time passes, and we heal, I hope we can build something magical together, something that surpasses all expectations of love and happiness. Until then, I'll be waiting, cherishing every moment we've shared, and dreaming of our beautiful future together.

With all my love and devotion,

Pile 2

My Dearest creampie ,

I hope this letter finds you well, though my heart feels heavy knowing that you're not taking proper care of yourself. Witnessing you neglect your own well-being pains me deeply, and I can't bear to see you hurting, physically or emotionally. Please know that I'm here for you, always ready to lend a listening ear or a comforting embrace. I understand that you might be going through a tough time, and your anger is justified. However, I plead with you not to direct that anger towards your own body. It's a vessel that carries your beautiful soul and deserves to be treated with love and care. Take a moment to breathe, to pause, and let the anger subside. Embrace the world's beauty, for there's so much joy and wonder waiting for you.

Just today, I took a leisurely walk and stumbled upon the most enchanting garden. Butterflies danced around, birds sang sweet melodies, and the fragrance of blooming flowers filled the air, blessing the entire place with serenity. In that moment, my heart longed for you to be there by my side, your gentle touch as I lay my head on your lap, listening to you speak passionately about the things you love. You are the light in my life, and I cherish every moment we share. I love you with all my heart, and my affection for you grows with each passing day. You deserve all the love, happiness, and beauty that this world has to offer. And one day, I promise to show you just how much I love and adore you in every way possible.

Please take care of yourself, my love, for your well-being means everything to me. I'll be here, holding you close in my thoughts, sending you all the love and support you need. Remember that you're never alone in this journey, and I'll always be here, ready to walk beside you, hand in hand.

With all my love and devotion,

Pile 3

My dear pumpkin pie

I hope this letter finds you well and fills your heart with warmth. The wait has been long, but I promise it was worth it. You are the missing piece in my life, and I can't wait to finally hold you in my arms. Your patience and dedication have touched me deeply. You've shown me what true love is, and I promise to cherish and protect our bond with all my heart. From the moment we meet, my devotion to you will be unwavering, and my love for you will only grow stronger with each passing day. As I think of our future together, I can't help but smile at the countless adventures we'll embark on. With you by my side, life will be an exciting journey filled with joy, laughter, and love.

In your presence, time seems to slow down, and every moment becomes magical. Your smile brightens even the darkest days, and your laughter is music to my soul. You are the light that guides me through life's ups and downs, and I promise to be your constant support in return. Know that I am here for you, no matter what life throws our way. Together, we can overcome any challenge and savor every beautiful moment that life has in store for us. I can't wait to see the world through your eyes and share my dreams with you. Your dreams are my dreams, and I promise to do everything I can to help them come true. With each beat of my heart, I am reminded of the love I hold for you. It's a love that knows no bounds and only grows stronger with time. You are my everything, and I am forever grateful to have you in my life.

Until we meet, my love, know that you are always in my thoughts and prayers. I eagerly await the day when our souls will finally unite, and we'll begin our beautiful journey together.

Yours forever,

#pick a crystal #pick a gif #pick a picture #pick a photo #pick a card #pick a pile #tarot reading #tarot cards #free readings #free tarot #tarot #tarotblr #tarotwithavi #tarot witch #oracle reading #future lover #future spouse reading #soulmate reading #love reading

[bettsfic]

Writing q: do you/did you ever feel like there's a dichotomy between writing something fun and light and tropey & writing something good/that you're proud of? I'm trying to write a romcom-esque multichap fic that ends happily but I keep running into this mental block that it's not Serious Work so it can't be what i would consider good (which is hilarious because a) its all fanfiction none of it is serious?? and b) i know that's not true!) lmao. Was jw if you have any thots on this

i've got an analogy for you.

before i started writing, i was really into baking. back then i was not only a perfectionist but an extremist. i believed that REAL baking meant using the rawest possible ingredients. the idea of store-bought puff pastry or pie crusts was appalling to me.

and every year i baked a pumpkin pie for thanksgiving. to bake the pumpkin pie, i had to go out at early o'clock in the morning on a saturday to my local farmer's market and pick out the most perfect pumpkins. and i don't know if you've ever baked pumpkin pie with real pumpkins but it takes a long damn time. and it's hard. and so i baked the pumpkins for hours and scraped out the innards and made a puree, and i roasted the seeds for a snack. and amid all that, i made the crust from scratch too.

the pie always turned out! so i kept making it that way. until one year i just wasn't up to the task, and instead swallowed my pride and bought canned pumpkin and a premade crust.

and it tasted exactly the same as the pie that took me an entire day to make. it was also much cheaper, because in our era of industry, the processed stuff has become more affordable than the raw stuff unless you grow it yourself. (and believe me, i wanted to.)

the only difference i could discern was in the texture, because canned pumpkin is pureed more than i could puree real pumpkin. canned pumpkin also has other kinds of gourds in it, but that doesn't really affect the taste. i also felt bad for not supporting my local farmers. but it was worth it to be able to bake a pie from start to finish in 90 minutes.

for so many years i had it in my head that if a process is harder, the result is better. it was that mentality that kept me in a job i hated for a long time. it's hard and i don't like it, therefore it's more serious and respectable. it was unconscionable to me to think that something fun and easy could result in something good.

when you're writing fanfiction or anything where you're relying on the audience's knowledge of something else (like tropes), you can get it in your head that it's inherently easier and therefore worse. and because it's a skill, in order to become better at it, you have to challenge yourself. to challenge yourself, you have to make it harder.

but you're making something. you're putting words on a page in formations that have never existed before. that's hard, period. you don't have to make it harder. your readers will value it regardless of the challenge you give yourself. every thanksgiving, my family just appreciated that i had baked a pie. they didn't care how i'd baked it or what ingredients i used. yes, the longer and more difficult process created a product i was more proud of than the shorter, easier process. but you can't taste pride.

this is something i have to remind myself of all the time, because my instinct is to make everything more difficult than it has to be. you're always going to be your own worst critic, in part because you're the only one who knows your own process and the blood, sweat, and tears you put into it. but ultimately, nobody cares about the pumpkins. all they want is the pie.

#writing advice #process

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FROM HALLOWEENTOWN 🎃 *  assorted dialogue from the 1998 film, adjust as necessary

hey, wait a minute! what about this house?

you know nobody ever comes here on halloween.

it's just a costume party.

there's nothing special about me.

being normal is vastly overrated.

you've gotta let me go! the whole world is going!

i'm certainly old enough to make my own choices.

[name], i'm sorry, but you are not going out on halloween.

you have been saying that for my whole life.

i gotta keep an eye on you.

why are you such a downer?

you can celebrate later.

when it's dark on halloween, where do you put the candle?

i wasn't even under a spell or anything.

i never could have done it without you.

it's just one night. what's the big deal?

you've been a lovely audience but the show is over.

we'll bring you some candy!

it's not polite to stare.

you can't tell what's in a monster's heart just by looking at them.

i'm so sick of this!

i think it's obvious why halloween is bad.

that whole razor blade in the apple thing was an urban myth.

there are just some things about halloween that you don't understand.

magic is really very simple. all you've got to do is want something and then let yourself have it.

how are we supposed to grow up if we can't explore the world, try new stuff, and take some risks?

[name], i am just trying to protect you.

why are you so obsessed with halloween?

personally, give me a good nature documentary any day.

you never let us do anything fun.

i'm something of a big cheese around here.

did you bring us presents?

the important thing is that i'm here now, and i'm so glad to see you.

you are not a witch.

i want you to go hang this on the door. it annoys the vampires.

how does all this stuff fit in here?

i've always said the movies can teach us about life.

why don't you put out the pumpkins? see, they have such cute little faces. just like yours.

i wanna help you fight the bad thing.

nobody around here really appreciates my taste in weird stuff.

i have deja vu a lot. i mean like, all the time.

could i talk to you in the kitchen for just one minute?

now it's time for dinner.

i like being here. i can have a normal life here.

i like being normal.

i'm getting that deja vu feeling again.

get that thing out of here right now!

i know that's why you came here tonight.

my neighbors disappear sometimes too. it's called moving.

every time you come into the house, it's chaos.

let's not fight again.

why don't you recruit one of them?

enjoy your leftovers, dear.

he's probably animatronic. disneyland's full of stuff like that.

see, you're a bad influence.

will you be quiet?

look, i'm trying to concentrate here.

what can we do to stop it?

that's very sweet of you.

what are you so happy about?

this is what i've been telling you about.

i have to apologize to you, [name].

#rp meme #rp memes #rp prompt #roleplay memes #rp starters #roleplay prompt #ask meme #ask memes #roleplay meme #rp meme starter #starter meme #sentence starter #sentence starters #sentence starter prompt #writing prompt #memes #roleplay inbox prompts #rp inbox meme #inbox prompt #inbox meme #mcflymemes #halloweentown #halloween starters #halloween prompts

[jungle-angel]

The Little Bookworm (Bob Floyd x Reader)

Summary: You and Bob can't get enough of your kids being obsessed with books

It was the gloomiest of fall days with the skies over Montana having gone darker than expected, almost as if night were setting in at lunchtime.

Auggie had been perched on the little bay window seat in the living room, the rain battering the diamond paned windows while the woodstove in the living room made the house warm and cozy. Bob didn't particularly like having the tv on all day, but The Nightmare Before Christmas seemed like the perfect background noise on a day like this and with Halloween fast approaching, it made it even better.

Bob smiled a little seeing his little mini-me completely engrossed in one of the books you had gotten him. Auggie had always loved pulling books from the shelf, no matter how big or how small they were and loved making up his own stories to tell you, Bob and the rest of the family.

"Auggie, come and eat," Bob called from the kitchen.

Auggie giggled and shut his book, running right for the kitchen and seating himself into his chair. Bob had definitely outdone himself this time, grilled cheese with bacon, a side of kettle cooked potato chips and a kosher dill pickle on the side.

"Whatcha reading buddy?" Bob asked him.

"Um.....I dunno," Auggie chirped with a big grin on his face before taking a bite out of his sandwich.

"You don't know?!" Bob questioned, pretending to be shocked.

"It's about these three guys and a bad guy who doesn't like them so they've gotta stop him," Auggie explained.

The more Auggie chattered, the more Bob couldn't control the broad smile on his face. The Three Musketeers had been one of his favorites growing up, one that his father had grown up reading as well. Now that Auggie was reading it, he was proud beyond words that his love of the book had been passed down to his son.

As soon as lunch was done, Bob took a look at Auggie's bookshelf and made a list of other books that he didn't have, noting that they would most likely be his Christmas gift that year. He made his way upstairs while Auggie scooted back to his little corner, hoping you were still up in your shared bedroom and sure enough, you were.

"Still working away Mrs. Floyd?" he asked, scooting in next to you.

"All I can do Bob," you told him.

You had been needle-felting all day as a movie played out on the tv that was mounted on the wall. Bob felt awful that you were on strict bedrest, but after the last ultrasound appointment, you both knew it was what you and your baby girl needed. Luckily Reagan and her husband, Elijah, lived close by in case anything came up, but it still made Bob nervous whenever you got up in the middle of the night to pee.

Yet he was in awe at the Halloween decorations you had made for Auggie's kindergarten class, little pumpkins that looked like fairy houses, witches in their pointed little hats and little brooms in their hands, fuzzy little bats with googly eyes and silly looking little spiders, black cats with slinky little tails, ghosts with their mouths wide open and even two little figures that turned out to be Jack and Sally and even a little Zero from The Nightmare Before Christmas.

"Did you do all this while I was downstairs?" Bob asked, picking up the soft, fuzzy little figures.

"Yep," you answered proudly. "Kay told me that while the kids were outside playing in the yard, Auggie, Gabe, Nicky and Pete were all collecting sticks and wanted to bring them home. I figured I could use them to make a little Halloween tree."

Bob remembered having been a kid at that type of school and having had Kay's mother for his kindergarten teacher. They were wonderful days, learning how to make fresh bread and soup for lunch, playing with his friends, listening to stories and plenty of playing outside. Yet they had been tough too. Bob remembered some days when his father had gotten a deployment notice. He would hide out in a corner of the classroom and cry until Kay's mother had to gently coax him out. Bob had made damn sure that Auggie, Patrick and any other children you might have, would never have to go through that when they started school. But luckily, Bob and the rest of the Daggers had been fully and honorably discharged by the time Patrick had been born.

"You've gotta teach me how to do this because I'm curious now," Bob chuckled.

"Believe me I will," you told him. "I need a partner so I can keep from getting bored."

Up the stairs came those familiar little feet you heard running through the house day after day on the weekends. "Daddy, Daddy," Auggie chirped again. "Can you read to me?"

"C'mere buddy," Bob said, lifting him up into the bed with his book and putting him between you both.

You rode out the rest of the rainy afternoon, reading The Three Musketeers and the adventures they had lived. Auggie was practically jumping with excitement whenever Bob read the swordfight scenes, the both of you happy and proud that he was your little bookworm.

#top gun maverick #robert bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #dagger squad

[leafsbabe]

Sidney Crosby - cozy (SMUT)

Sid sneaking out of bed before dawn didn’t wake you. Neither did him getting ready or making his breakfast. In fact you were still asleep when he came back from training.

You looked cute, he could admit that. At some point you had rolled over onto his side and buried your face in his pillow, blankets piled high in your little nest.

He felt a little bad waking you from your slumber, but you couldn't spend all day sleeping. Sid spent a good while staring at the kitchen cupboard trying to figure out which one of your mugs he should pick before settling on a novelty one shaped like a pumpkin. The cat came running at the sound of the coffee machine, winding through his legs and yelling up at Sid. He opened another cupboard, one of the top ones you never reached for, and pulled out a suspiciously empty treat packet but for sneaking him a couple. 

By the time the complicated concoction you like to call coffee was done, he had curled up in his bed on the living room windowsill, watching fat raindrops roll down the glass. Sid looked at him before picking up the mugs — your fancy one and his plain one— and makig his way back to the bedroom.

He put the mugs down on his nightstand, opened a window to let the fresh air and the sound of rain in, and then slid back under the blankets with you. Sid could feel you cuddle up to him immediately. He didn't even need to do much. Petting your head one, two, three times was enough to have your blink awake, body contorting into a big stretch before you realize he was there. 

“Morning.” You mumbled before a yarn interrupted you. Cute.

“Close.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head where his hand had been. “It’s just after 10.”

“Oh.”

Not wanting to see you upset right after waking up he leaned over to grab your mug. “Coffee?”

That brought a smile to your face. “Yes, please.”You happily accepted the mug, bringing it up to your face straight away. “Thank you.”

Sid loved moments like these. The gloomy weather, a good cup of coffee, you.

“Do you just want to spend the day in bed?”

It wasn't often that he allowed himself the luxury of staying in bed all day but today just called for it. He had already spent the morning training so he wasn't completely lazy at least. 

“That sounds perfect.”

The two of you spent the rest of the morning just cuddling and talking and enjoying each other's company. For lunch you ventured out to the kitchen to grab food, then brought it over to the couch and ate while catching up on your shows.

Outside the rain picked up but inside the mood had settled. After lunch the two of you headed back to the bedroom. You both wanted to get some reading done but he couldn't help but watch your ass as you bent down to pick up the romance you were reading.At least he managed to adjust himself and pick up his own book before you climbed back in next to him.

Sid was in the middle of reading about an English regicide when you began pawing at his stomach, dangerously close to his dick. He lowered his book just enough so that he could look at you. “Can I help you?”

“Do you want to… I mean… I feel empty. And I wanted to know if you would…” 

Your hand dipped down to cup him through his sweatpants but Sid would have understood what you needed from him even without it.

“Need me to fill you up?”

“Please.”

He leaned away to put his book down, growing hard annoyingly fast. Your own book laid sprawled next to you, page down next to your sleep shorts.

You waited for him, melting into the bed the moment his full attention was on you. Sid wasn’t surprised to find you already wet when he touched you. The sighs and high little noises that left your mouth were so pretty until you decided to bite your lip to stop them from escaping. He didn't toy with you for long, thumbing at your folds for a moment then moving along to your clit. Sid didn't want to tease you when you had asked him to fill you, so he gave you one of his fingers as soon as he felt you were ready. A second followed soon after. By the time he had worked you up to the three he usually liked to prep you with, you didn't hold back your moans anymore.

“Ready?”

He tried his best not to feel smug when instead of answering him verbally you just nodded frantically and pulled him into a kiss. He indulged you for a moment but stopped when he felt like he was getting too worked up.

“On your side.” He ordered playfully, chuckling when you whined in response.

“Come on.” I’ll keep you full and you keep me warm.”

Figuring out a good position for you two didn't take long. Sid slid inside you slowly, making sure to be gentle as he filled you up. It would have been easier if you'd stop wriggling though. Once you found a comfortable position you picked your book back up and Sidney reached for his, trying not to move too much. This wasn't about getting off for the two of you. It was about comfort. About keeping an ache at bay.

You spent the next hour or so reading your own books, connected but dedicated to your separate literature. Sidney liked that he could do this for you, that you felt comfortable enough to ask for this. He also liked the feeling of your warmth surrounding him, the subconscious little squeezes around his length when something exciting was happening, the way you pushed on your lower stomach as if you could feel him even though he wasn't that big and you weren't that small.

He had asked you about it after your first few times, wanting to know what made you want it. It just feels nice, you had told him, warm and full and like I can just turn my brain off for a while.

Rain continued to pelt against the windows.

Sid knew you couldn’t wait much longer when you started to squirm and grind back against him. Cockwarming didn’t always lead to sex but sometimes it just wasn’t enough and you needed him to take care of you properly. But even though he could recognize your neediness he wouldn’t give you anything until you asked for it.

It took you twenty more minutes of sneakily trying to fuck yourself on his dick before you gave in.

“Sid. Please.” You whined, pressing your body back against his. “I need more. Need you.”

He didn’t give in immediately, instead putting his book down and taking a moment to just watch you desperately moving against him. He’d always give you what you asked for even when he liked to tease you.

It was easy for him to roll on top of you, forcing you to move with him until you laid on your stomach, pressed flat to the bed with him looking down on you. 

You gasped at the movement but that quickly turned into another whine when you realized he wasn’t moving. You couldn't even move back because his hips were holding yours in place. He was filling you, but not in the way you needed.

Finally he started to move, slowly pulling out before fucking back in roughly. A single strong thrust that had you clutching the sheets, waiting for more. 

He leaned down, his strong chest warm against your back through both of your shirts, and pressed a kiss against your shoulder blade.

“Please.” You begged again.

Sidney liked to tease but he wasn't cruel, if you wanted to be fucked he wouldn’t deny you that pleasure.

He started fucking you in earnest, building up a rhythm until the sounds of your bodies connecting started to rival those of the rainstorm outside.

Sid let you muffle your moans even though he preferred to hear them. The sight of you hugging a big pillow, clutching it to your chest and burying your sweet head in it to quiet yourself down, did things to him you would need to explore later.

Following the line of your body further down he could see himself fucking you. The way you enveloped him, your body moving whenever he thrusted into you. Sidney felt himself getting closer to an orgasm. Not wanting to come yet he slowed down his thrusts, choosing to focus on strength rather than speed. Your whole body moved on the bed every time he entered you, putting those glutes to good use.

He didn't realize how close you'd been until you tightened around him, screaming into your pillow as you came. Sid continued fucking you through your orgasm, shallow thrust and deep grinds to carry you through without overwhelming you; all while he was still chasing his own hight but not as frantic as he would have before.

He pulled out —slowly, carefully— after you stopped shaking, content to just jerk himself the rest of the way and come across your ass when you turned around beneath him.

You looked so beautiful, wrecked in the best way, with messy hair and the lines of the pillow pressed into your skin. Sid wanted to trace them but he held himself back.

“You don’t have to. You can… inside.” You smiled up at him wide eyed.

Sid groaned as he buried his cock in you and his head in the crook of your neck. It didn’t take him long to follow you over the edge. Fucking back in as deep as he could, he came, muffling his moans against your skin.

The two of you basked in the afterglow for a little while before Sid convinced himself to leave your warm bed and get a washcloth to clean you up. He had just returned to you when the first grumbling started in the distance.

By the time the rainstorm outside had turned into a full thunderstorm the two of you had gotten dressed again and were about to snuggle when you remembered something.

“Can you open the door so that Mav can get in if he gets scared?”

He loved his cat, he really did, but the allergy meds only went so far. The bedroom and his gym were the only off limit areas without cat hair everywhere.

“You know-”

You cut him off. “I know it’s not his first thunderstorm but what if he gets scared?”

It wasn’t a fight he would win.

Groaning, he got up, gathering his blanket and pillow before walking over to the door.

“What are you doing?”

“He can’t sleep in here with us.” It was a rule where Sid put his foot down. He quite liked being able to breathe, thank you very much. “But we can go out there with him.”

After he dumped his blanket on the couch, he returned, finding you in the same position he left you in.

“I can’t walk.” You gestured to your legs; they were no longer shaking but Sidney knew all too well what he could do to you.

Instead of responding verbally he just scooped you and your blanket up before making his way back to the living room. He dumped your comfy heap on the couch and got ready to settle in next to you when a tiny meow under his blanket caught his attention. Apparently Maverick had already gotten comfortable in his new hiding spot. 

Sid let him have it, sliding in next to you under your blanket instead. The three of you could just spend the rest of your bed day on the couch.

#sidney crosby #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #nhl imagine #hockey smut #sidney crosby imagine #sidney crosby smut #...so this is twenty-five

[thesmokingguns]

Witches w/ Izzy STradlin

Super fluffy piece I wrote around Halloween <3

I feel like you never see Izzy written as a family man and I can just picture him with a whole ass family

Izzy was beat.

His head ached. His body ached. And all he needed was to be curled up with the four ladies in his life to feel better.

He had only been home for one night and had to do some work at a local radio station today, which lead to a recording studio trop he hadn’t expected and finally he was headed home for some quality family time.

As soon as he entered the quiet house he know that there was trouble.

“Quiet.”

“You be quiet, Tara.”

“Shut up, Tessa.”

“I’m going to tell Mama you said Shut up.”

“Don’t be a tattletale, Toni.”

The three little voices were coming from his bedroom making Izzy smirk as he kicked off his shoes, heading to the bedroom where he knocked on the door getting a chorus of ‘shhh’ from behind the wood.

“Can I come in?” He waited a second expecting three squealing tots to throw themselves in his arm and cover him with kisses as they searched his pockets for whatever treat he bought for them.

But instead he heard them whispering together some more in whatever secret they were locked into.

“Darlings, your daddy asked to come in.” He couldn’t help the smile at his wife's voice, her soft reminder to her daughters about his knock.

But all he heard was more whispering before finally, Tara , his oldest at seven, opened the door looking at him with his own eyes staring back at him, her lips in a serious pout as her chocolate curls sat untamed under a pointed black hat.

A bit of jostling and the two other pointed hats of Tessa, age five, and Toni, age four, poked their heads out looking at Izzy with the little girl pouts that he didn’t expect.

“Why the long faces, little witches?” That got a google out of Toni who was promptly shh’d by her sisters and a fierce whisper between them went off.

“You can’t come in here anymore. You’re not allowed near Mommy.” Izzy’s eyebrows raised and he caught sight of his wife in bed looking at him with the same sort of confusion that he was sure was on his face.

A soft cry made him look at the baby in her arms. At just seven months their youngest daughter, Tilly was latching onto her mothers breast, unaware of the battle her sisters were embarking in.

“Darlings let daddy in.” She gave him an encouraging smile but he saw them all put their heads together before Tara was once more looking at him, her hands on her hips as the cape his wife made her with little crescent moons fluttered behind her.

“You can come in, daddy. But you need to undo it.” She crossed her arms, elbowing Tessa who mimicked the motion that her older sister was doing as Toni lost interest twirling around in her pink cape with gold sparkly stars, giggling at the material.

One witch down, two to go.

“Undo what?” He was crouching down to their level opening his arms as Tessa smiled, leaning in to get hugs from him.

Tessa was the one who always wanted snuggles. She was the one who liked physical touch and Izzy knew he was exploiting it but he wanted to give all his little girls hugs.

“The watermelon curse, daddy.” She whispered, getting a glare from Tara.

“He knows what he did.” Tara was upset as her sister ran off, the green cape with orange pumpkins flying in the wind she had created from rushing away.

Tara turned to Izzy, hand on her hips as she kept him from entering the bedroom still. Obviously she was upset about something.

“What is going on, Tara? What did I do?” Izzy wanted to just curl up with them all, eat pizza in bed and watch a movie. He would even watch a princess movie if it meant they all were happy.

Anything for his family.

“You put a curse on Mommy. You come home and you give her a look that makes her look at you all goo goo and then her belly grows from the watermelon seed and there is another baby. There are four of us now, daddy. Five is too many. That’s greedy.” Izzy blinked, swallowing the smile on his lips as his wife kissed Tilly’s head.

His other two had crawled on the bed, petting their baby sister as they watched their mother nurse,giving her all the cuddles.

“Tara, babies are gifts.” He reached for her but she shook her head, not being lured into his arms as he sighed out, sitting cross legged, “Do you want to tell me what’s going on little one?” She looked back at her sisters, realizing that they weren’t paying attention she moved closer, arms wrapping around Izzy.

Her little hands tugged at his dreads as her hat jostled from bumping into him as she whispered in his ear.

“If you have more babies you’ll have less love for me.” The softness of her voice, worried made Izzy’s heartache as he held her close, rubbing her back as she sniffled trying to be the strong older sister.

“Oh Tara, mommy and me love you all so much. Can’t you see how we love you all?” she nodded her head in confirmation but didn’t look at him, “Do you love your sisters?” she looked at him, cheeks a little flushed as she shrugged.

“Sometimes. But sometimes Tessa has hot dog farts and Tilly always is sucking on moms boobies and Toni takes long showers where she sings so loud.” Izzy smirked at her little grievances with her sisters. “But Toni always shares her candy with me and Tessa gives really good snuggles when I have bad dreams and I like the way Tilly smiled at me first.” Izzy nodded in understanding.

“And just how you love all your sisters we love you.” She nodded her head in understanding, pulling away as she stuck out her pinky at him.

“Promise you’ll love us, no matter how many you have?”  Izzy chuckled, nodding his head as he entered the solemn vow with his daughter, “Okay, daddy you can come in now.” Izzy stood up, taking Tara with him. Glad that she wasn’t complaining that she was too big to be held.

Finally he was in bed with all of the, snuggled up as his wife looked at him, her eyes on him as Izzy stroked the girls hair getting them arranged for movie night.

“Are you alright?” he asked, leaning in and stealing a kiss as well as the baby from her arms. He took over burping as his wife snuggled closer, leaning in for just him to hear.

“I feel pretty good for swallowing a watermelon seed.”

#Izzy Stradlin #Izzy STradlin fanfic #Izzy STradlin fan fiction #Izzy STradlin one shot #izzy stradlin fanfiction #guns n roses #Izzy STradlin head canon #guns n roses fan fic #guns n roses fanfiction

[beyondthesefourwalls]

Remember You Even When I Don't (6)

Summary: A training accident, the doctor had told him. A nasty one that led him here, laying in a hospital bed with a splitting headache and an inability to remember the woman sitting beside him. What he did know, though, was that you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and you felt important to him. That, as it turns out, would become an understatement.

Words: 5.0K

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw/Reader (no use of y/n, so can be read as unnamed oc)

Warnings: angst, hospitals, memory loss, language, suggestive themes, smut

Notes: Please note the updated warnings. These next few chapters are a new stage of Bradley and Pumpkin growing back together, and while I'm very excited about it, I know it may not be for everyone. For everyone who sticks around, please continue to comment and reblog, and my inbox is always open! I love to talk about these two :)

This was inspired by a one shot by the lovely @roosterforme and would not exist without her assistance. If you haven't read any of her stuff, please check out her masterlist - you won't be disappointed! All of the thanks to her and @mak-32 for being the best cheerleaders and friends I could ask for!

-------

By the time the two of you untangle yourselves from the porch and make your way back inside, the moon was high in the sky, the sun long disappeared. Your stomach is rumbling, and Bradley realizes how late it is. 

“I can make something for dinner.”

Despite the emotional rollercoaster you’d been on this evening, you chuckle, and something eases inside of him. 

“Your cooking hasn’t improved in the last four years,” you tease softly. 

He rolls his eyes, chuckling at you. “I bet I can still make a mean grilled cheese. Take a seat.” 

Your grin is wide as you settle onto one of the bar stools at the island, watching him work. It’s the biggest smile he’s seen from you in the last two weeks, and his heart races knowing that he’s the cause of it. 

The crusts are only a little bit burnt, but you insist that you like them that way. You talk while you eat, and it’s like the tension that had been hovering over you has diminished. When the plates are loaded into the dishwasher and the kitchen lights are flipped off, you let out a shuddering breath and hold out your hand. 

“You can sleep in our bed,” you whisper, and Bradley’s heart clenches in something that feels like relief. You give a little shrug, self conscious of your own words, like he would ever possibly reject you, “Just sleep. If you want.” 

He takes your hand and lets you guide him. Your hand feels at home in his, the warmth of your rings is smooth against his calloused skin. 

Your shared bedroom was the one room he hadn’t explored yet. The furniture is wood toned and there are flashes of green and gold and orange. He can tell which side of the bed is his right away by the books on the nightstand, and there’s still a sweatshirt of his strewn over the chair in the corner by the closet door. There’s a jewelry box on the dresser and he thinks there may be a section in there for his uniform pins, too. 

He can feel you in here so strongly. More than that, though, he can feel himself, and the two of you together. He can sense, more so than in the rest of the house, that this space is purely for the two of you. 

You go into the en suite bathroom to change, leaving him in the bedroom to do the same, and he knows which drawers are his and which ones aren’t. He sinks down on his side of the bed, picking up the picture frame that’s there by an F18 manual and a Captain America comic book. A grin tugs at the corner of his mouth as he looks at it. You’re both bundled up in head to toe green and white Eagles gear and wrapped around one another. There’s snow falling and there’s crowds of people and the field in the background and the two of you look so happy, and Bradley knew the happiness had nothing to do with the game. 

“We lost that one.” 

He looks up and his breath catches. You’re walking toward him in a shirt that has to be a few sizes too big for you, Top Gun emblazoned across the chest. Your hair is piled on your head and you’re still rubbing some of your moisturizer into your face. 

He didn’t think he’d ever get used to how beautiful you were. 

“Did we?” he manages, and his heart thuds in his chest when you round the bed to pull down the comforter on your side, throwing all of the throw pillows onto the floor. 

“We did. It was actually a terrible game.”

Bradley looks back down at the photo, tracing the smile on your face before he sets it back down, and something tells him the score wasn’t what really mattered to him that day. He stands, mimicking your motion of turning down the bed. “We looked like we were having a good time.”

You pause for a moment, giving him a gentle smile and a nod. “We were. It was an amazing weekend.”

There was a distance enough for another body between you when you switch the light off and slip under the covers. The room is quiet and he can hear both of your breathing. Your eyes are trained on one another from across the expanse of the king size bed, and Bradley feels his fingers twitch. 

This didn’t feel right, laying like this. 

He scoots forward, closer to the center of the bed, and you do the same. Before he realizes what he was doing, he has an arm wrapped around you, pulling you closer to him. Your breath catches in your throat and he pauses. 

“What are you doing?” You whispered, and Bradley wondered if you could hear him swallow his nerves. 

“I think - we don’t sleep on opposite sides. Right? I usually…hold you?” He’s unsure now, panicking a little bit, but you slowly rest a hand on his chest over his racing heart. If you felt how hard it was beating, you didn’t comment on it. 

“You do,” you confirmed, your gaze open and full of trust and compassion. “But I want you to do what feels comfortable to you.”

He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. A tickle is there in his mind again, and he reaches for it. 

The arm that had pulled you to him brings you a little bit closer, and he lets his hand rest on your hip. 

“This?” you murmur, and Bradley nods as he brushes a shy kiss into your hair. 

“Yeah,” he whispers with a gentle squeeze of your hip, “this is a lot better.”

————-

Sleeping in the same bed with you is the best sleep he thinks he’s ever gotten. He feels rested in a way he can’t remember feeling before, and he knows deep in his bones that this has always been what it feels like with you. 

He comes to wakefulness slowly, and vanilla and lavender immediately fill his senses. Your hair is in his face and he marvels at how soft it is against his skin. Your back is flush against his chest, one arm wrapped tight around you while the other is trapped under your pillow. He’s so comfortable, so content having you in his arms like this, that he can’t help but press closer. It feels so right, so familiar, that he forgets that he doesn’t remember always having this for a moment. 

He nuzzles into your neck, finding your skin and pressing a gentle kiss there. 

You smell so good, and you’re soft, too. 

His hand spreads out where it was resting on your stomach. His fingertips circle over the material of the oversized shirt you’re wearing that he suspects might be his.  

You shiver, and Bradley can feel his body react to the movement. 

You’re invading every single one of his senses right now. 

You hum, reaching back to thread your fingers through his sleep mussed hair. His nose trails up your neck, inhaling the scent of you as his lips place fluttering kisses against your skin. His palm presses into your cotton covered stomach, almost as if to try and pull you impossibly closer. You let out a soft, sleepy sound that shoots straight through him. He thrusts his hips into yours from his spot behind you, grinding slowly. Your fingers tighten in his hair and he can’t help but scrape his teeth against your jugular, soothing it over with his tongue. 

“Bradley,” you moan. His name breaks through the fog that had settled over his mind and the two of you freeze. His breathing is heavy, and so is yours, and he doesn’t want to move from this spot. But you shift in his arms just far enough away to turn so that you’re laying facing him. Your eyes are wide and your face is flushed. For a moment, Bradley swears he can see you sprawled in this bed, your hair a halo on the pillow with your head thrown back as he moves on top of you. He blinks and the image is gone, but you’re still right here, staring at him with such longing and pure want. He knows he shares the same look. 

Your shared breathing is the only sound that fills the room for a long moment, and he swears that the more he looks at you, the hotter and harder he feels. No one has ever had this effect on him. The tension was thick over the two of you. 

“Good morning, Pumpkin,” he finally rasps. He doesn’t think you mean to let out the whimper that you do, but the sound makes him dizzy. He swallows, trying to reign himself in. 

Sleep, you had said the night before, just sleep. 

“Morning,” you respond, your voice breathy.  Bradley has to squeeze his eyes shut and take a calming breath. When he opens them, your gaze has shifted to something of curiosity, but the previous heat still simmers there, too. 

“How’d you sleep?” 

“Great,” you mutter, but your eyes have moved further down his face, “You?” 

“So good,” he breathes, watching you as you watch him. Your hand twitches on the sheets from where they rested in the small space between your two bodies. You raise it slowly, letting your fingertips graze the stubble that had appeared on his chin the last few days. You looked like you were almost in a trance, and he wondered if you could feel how hard his heart was beating. Your thumb ghosts near his bottom lip. He sucks in a breath of air, shifting just the slightest bit closer to you. Your eyes flicker back up to his.

You look as wrecked as he feels. He had to get out of this bed. But he also wants to prolong this torture for as long as he could. You were addicting, in every single way. 

“I’m uh, I’m sorry for the wake up call,” he stutters out. 

You hum in response, your fingertips still exploring his face. They trace over the scars, and he didn’t think the thing he hated so much could possibly be an erogenous zone until this moment, because a flash of fire goes through him again. “I thought I was dreaming,” you admit softly. 

Bradley gulps, but he doesn’t resist the urge he feels to settle his hand on your hip. Your eyes flutter shut and he squeezes softly. His thumb mimics yours, rubbing slowly back and forth. He wishes there wasn’t cotton separating him from feeling your skin. 

“Is that something you dream about?” he dares himself to ask. 

Your lips part and your breathing shifts. You turn your face into the pillow slightly, almost like you’re fighting against yourself. When your eyes open again, it’s like you’re staring directly into his soul. 

“Yes.” 

He wasn’t prepared for you to answer him, and he really needs to get out of this bed. He was finally getting somewhere with you after two weeks of awkward tension, and he really didn’t want to ruin it by moving too fast, despite every instinct in him saying this was completely natural between the two of you. 

He squeezes your hip again, lingering for a moment, before forcing himself to roll away from you. “I’m going to go take a shower.” 

His voice is hoarse, rougher than it had been. When he takes a peek at you over his shoulder from his spot sitting on the edge of the bed, there’s the smallest of smirks pulling at your lips. You know the effect you have on him. He likes that. 

“Use the en suite,” you suggest, snuggling back into the blankets that surround you. “The water pressure is better.” 

He finds it hard to look away from how your hair is spread out all over the pillow and how he can see the outline of your body through the white sheets. He forces himself to stand, but before he can take a step, your hand shoots out to grab his. 

“It’s okay,” you murmured, and he didn’t realize he needed reassurance of what had just transpired until he had it. He squeezes your hand in thanks and you let it drop, rolling onto your back as he walks into the bathroom. He debated for a second if he should close the door, settling on leaving it cracked just the smallest amount. He wanted you to know that if you needed in here before he was done, he was okay with that. 

Stripping down and stepping into the steam, he groans in relief. The water pressure was better here. 

The shower was spacious, despite there being a larger tub in the room as well. In what was meant to be a fleeting thought, he wondered which one you preferred, and suddenly he could see it so clearly, you laying in a bath full of bubbles, your hair on top of your head and candles lit throughout the room, beckoning him toward you with a coy smile on your face. 

He squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head, trying to shake the visual away. He braces himself against the wall of the shower, letting the hot water rain over him, and he could just as clearly see your back pressed against the same tiles. He swears he can feel your weight in his arms as he holds you up. 

“Fuck,” he mutters, his hands curling into fists. He probably shouldn’t be thinking about you like this, right? He should give it more time. But then his mind conjures up the taste of your skin from just a few minutes ago, and the way your body felt pressed against his. 

He catches sight of your shampoo and conditioner bottles on the corner shelf and remembers how amazing your hair smelt when his face was buried in your neck. He reached for the bottle of conditioner, popping the cap and bringing it to his nose. He inhales deeply and has to bite his lip to stop himself from groaning. 

He shakes his head again, but it was a futile attempt; all he can think about was you. He can still hear the soft little mewl you let out when you felt him against you as you woke up, and the whimper when he said good morning. 

It takes him a moment to realize it might not just be echoing through his head.

It’s quiet, so quiet that he steps out from under the water to make sure it was even there. He stands completely still, holding his breath, and oh, fuck. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he groans, because he can hear you. Just barely, but when he strains his ears hard enough, the softest of moans floats through the hardly there crack he left in the door. A quiet hum follows it, and he knows, as surely as he knows that he’s falling for you quicker than he can comprehend, again, that you’re laying in the bed the two of you share, bringing yourself pleasure. 

He doesn’t stop himself this time from bringing a hand down to wrap around himself. He hisses at the contact. He’s so hard that it hurts; he knows he’s not going to last long. He’s slow with it at first, so focused on his ability to hear you. His grip is firm as he touches himself with complete strokes, squeezing when he gets to the base. As you speed up, so does he. 

He closes his eyes, tilting his head back as one hand remains braced against the tiles. He tightens his grip and through his shuddery breaths, he can almost feel what your touch would be like instead. Your hands are soft, not sporting the same calluses that he does. After a sparing moment of consideration, he reaches for your conditioner again, squirting a small amount into his hand before he grips himself again. The smell of lavender and vanilla surround him like a blanket and he groans. Yes.  

He’s hit with a muffled moan of his name, your voice catching and a breathy gasp leaving you, and he somehow knows that’s the way you sound when you climax. 

The shift in him is instant. He doesn’t hold back, jerking himself in earnest. He’s desperate for it now, picturing you spread out in that big bed, your chest heaving, and it’s the knowledge that just as he's thinking of you, he has no doubt that you’re thinking of him, too, that finally pushes him over the edge. 

Because you’re his wife, and he’s your husband. 

He’s still recovering from the power of it, fighting to catch his breath, when a soft knock echoes at the door. His eyes shoot in that direction, but the shower curtain blocks him from seeing anything. 

“Bradley,” you call, and the sound of his name from your mouth, so different from how he just heard it, almost makes him groan out loud again, “Do you mind if I come in and brush my teeth really quick?”

“Please,” he grits out, immediately flushing at the needy tone of his voice. He wants to be able to tell you to join him in the shower - to pull you in here with him and recreate the image of holding you against the tiles that he thought he saw in his head. He wants to say so much more. But instead, all he said was, “Be my guest.”

_______

There’s a noticeable shift following your night on the porch and your morning in bed. There’s less hesitation from both of you. Bradley didn’t know if things would ever be whatever used to be the same, but they’re better, so, so much better, and he thinks that together, maybe you can find a new normal. 

He had been worried initially that there would be that same awkward tension that had filled the house after he woke you up the way he did on the first night he slept with his arms wrapped around you. Instead, though, there’s a different kind of tension. Something anticipatory and exciting. He doesn’t shy away from initiating contact with you anymore, and neither do you. 

He starts seeing flashes, after that night. They aren’t always full fledged memories, but it’s enough. His dreams are more detailed than that first week provided him. He doesn’t shy away from asking you about them anymore, and from underneath the blankets of your shared bed, you fill in the blanks for him.

You honeymooned in Mexico. The two of you only lived in your small DC apartment together for a few months before you moved to California, where you bought and renovated this home together. He’s developed a love for seafood, and you’re allergic to bees. 

He loves waking up like that with you, even if it’s only been happening for less than a handful of days. 

He knows, in the deepest parts of him, that he loves you. His mind may not remember, but his body does. His heart does. He knows it instinctively and that night and next morning gives him the courage to lean into it, to explore it, even if he’s not ready to really say it out loud again. 

He wants to do something special for you. His heart is racing in his chest as he makes his way up the stairs. You’re in your home office, catching up on a few emails from the last few weeks you’ve been on leave. You’re curled up in your desk chair in an oversized sweater, your hair bunched on the top of your head and your glasses perched on your nose; even now, you completely blow him away. 

He clears his throat and knocks his knuckles against the door frame. A smile instantly appears on your face when you turn to him. 

“Am I interrupting anything?” He asks. He’s so nervous his palms are sweating. 

“Never. What’s up?” 

He notices how your eyes shift down to his right arm, where his hand is noticeably behind his back hiding something from you. Inhaling a deep breath, he unveils a small bouquet of wildflowers, holding them out to you. 

You gasp, a look of surprise overtaking you, and your eyes lift back to meet his as you gently take the arrangement from him. 

“I was wondering if you had any plans tonight?”

“I don’t know, sweetheart. I feel like I’m maybe about to.”

The blush is instantaneous; you’re the only one who has ever been able to get reactions Iike this from him - no wonder he married you. You had no problem in keeping him on his toes and oh, he loved that. 

He clears his throat again, determined not to let you completely overpower him like this, if only for his own ego. He stands up a little straighter, sending you a smirk and a wink even as he could still feel the heat on his face. 

“Be ready to go by 7,” he tells you, turning to walk out of the room before tossing over his shoulder, “dress nice.”

————-

His brain short circuits when you come down the stairs right at 7:00 that night.

You’re in a dark green dress that seems to flow down your body to your calves. The sleeves are billowy but clinch tight at your wrists. Your hair is down and your makeup is done and he wants to kiss that soft shade of pink right off your lips.

“Wow,” he whispers, “you look…”

For a second, he sees you opening the door for him instead of walking down the staircase. He’s seen this before, he thinks. 

When he fails to finish, you laugh nervously. “Nice, I hope?”

But Bradley shakes his head.  “Beautiful,” he says instead, “you look beautiful.”

He made reservations at a nice restaurant not too far from your house, and he’s glad he hasn’t been cleared to drive just yet, because there’s no way he would have been able to concentrate on the road with you in his passenger seat looking like that. 

His hand is firm on the small of your back as he leads you inside. Even in your pretty nude shoes, he’s still a head taller than you, and he can’t help but puff his chest knowing that everyone who saw you walk in together knows that you’re here with him. 

He gives the hostess his name, rubbing small circles on your back as you wait. You shiver at his touch and move just the slightest bit closer to him. He can feel the side of your body against his side. 

His bubble bursts, however, when the red headed hostess gives him an remorseful, panicked look. 

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Bradshaw. I was the one you spoke with this morning but I accidentally put your reservation for this time next week. I’m so, so sorry.” 

Looking behind her into the restaurant itself, he knows it would be futile to ask if there were any reservations available for tonight. He bites the inside of his cheek, trying to curb his frustration at the situation. She couldn’t be older than 22 or 23, and she looks genuinely apologetic at the situation. With a deep sigh, he musters a reassuring smile, telling the young girl that it was okay. 

To his surprise, you don’t seem upset at all. In fact, you look practically giddy at the disruption of his plans. 

“We can go somewhere else,” you swear, nearly bouncing in your heels, tugging him out of the crowded restaurant. 

“You look incredibly happy for someone who might not be getting dinner tonight.”

You throw your head back as you lead him toward your car, your laughter spreading through the full parking lot. “Like you’d ever let me starve.”

His lips quirk, knowing that no, he would certainly not. 

When you get to the car, instead of unlocking it, you whip around to face him. You had turned so fast that he doesn’t have time to keep himself from running into you. He grabs onto your waist to keep from knocking you over, but leaves them there when you settle your hands on his chest. 

“Forget trying to impress me with fancy dinners. What’s something fun you used to do on weekends when you were a kid? I want you to take me there.” 

He sucks in a breath and his hands tighten on your waist. 

Suddenly, he’s in another parking lot. It’s colder outside, but under the jacket you’re wearing, he spots the same green dress. Your hair is a little bit shorter, maybe a little bit darker, but your eyes sparkle in the shine of the street lights just as they are now. You’re leaning against the side of his Bronco, speaking the exact same words after another messed up reservation. 

When he snaps out of it, one of your hands has moved to cup his cheek, your thumb running over his skin. 

This wasn’t the first time this has happened on a first date with you, and suddenly your giddiness makes sense. The two of you are getting almost an exact do-over, even if he didn’t realize it at first.  

He leans in and kisses you. You let out a surprised sound, but don’t hesitate in returning it, your nails scratching through the scruff on his face before coming back down to settle on his chest. When he pulls away, both of you are grinning. 

“How do you feel about arcade games and pizza?” 

Two hours later, you had demolished an arcade bar pizza and mozzarella sticks, and he was sipping on a cheap beer while you had a vodka and ginger ale, and he truly can’t remember ever being so happy. He had beat you at ski ball and Pac Man, but you were giving him an absolute run for his money at air hockey. Seeing you so dialed in directly across from him was distracting, and when he tried to use that as his excuse when you inevitably beat him, your giggle mixed in with the loud games and music surrounding them.

He holds your hand tightly as you weave your way through the crowded arcade, trying to find the giant jenga you promised you’d beat him at. He’s starting to buzz a little bit underneath his skin, jittery in a way that he thinks may be a normal side effect of being in your presence. When you finally break your way through the crowd to the outdoor area of the bar, he pulls you away from where all the other people are, finding a corner outside of the reach of the lights they have woven through the palm trees and around the building. He pushes you gently into the brick, mindful of your head and your dress and the heels you’re still wearing. 

“I think I remember how this ended the first time,” he says, resting one hand on your hip while the other braces against the building beside your head, effectively caging you in. 

“Oh yeah?” you breathe out, threading your fingers through your hair. 

He hums in response, leaning in to whisper in your ear, all the people and sound fading away from around the two of you, “I told you I loved you.” 

Your fingers tighten in his hair for a moment, and he lets you tug him away from your neck to meet your eyes again. 

“I told you you were crazy then, saying that on our first date,” you provided, and Bradley nods, agreeing with you. You gulp slightly, but your eyes are still shining, hopeful and happy. 

“And now?” you whisper, bringing both arms to wrap around his neck, “how are you feeling now?” 

He takes a step closer until his body is flush against yours. He takes a deep breath, breathing in the scent of you, and places a lingering kiss on your forehead. “I’m feeling like I’m remembering why I said it the first time, and why I said it every time after that, too.” 

You push yourself up, capturing his lips with yours, and like he thought over three years ago, he thinks he could kiss you for the rest of his life and die happy. 

It’s after midnight when the two of you get home. He intertwined his fingers with yours as soon as you both got out of the car. He doesn’t let go when you step into the house from the garage, or as you kick off the nude heels you had worn all night. Florry perks her head up from where she’s laying on top of one of the pillows on the couch, but settles back down when she notices it���s just the two of you. You don’t bother turning any of the lights on, making your way to and up the stairs. He tugs you to a halt when you reach the open door to your bedroom. You raise an eyebrow, silently questioning him. 

“I know I’ve been sleeping in there with you the last few days,” he murmurs, “but I can’t walk you to your front door like on a proper date. The bedroom door seems like the next best thing.”

The small smile you had on your face the whole way home quirks up even higher as you take a step over the threshold and into the room, keeping his hand in yours as you go. “I asked you inside that night, too. Come to bed, sweetheart.” 

He holds you tight that night, his legs intertwined with yours and his arm draped over your waist as you lay facing him. You don’t do more than exchange a few long, lingering kisses, because despite how much he wants to take it further, he knows the two of you aren’t there yet. 

He’s going to earn it, to be certain that you love this version of him as much as you loved the version he doesn’t quite remember yet. He’s looking forward to proving it to the both of you that you can. 

-------

Part Seven :: Series Masterlist :: Main Masterlist

Notes: I hope you liked this one! Nervous is an understatement. Would love to hear any thoughts you may have :)

Tag List: @roosterforme - @mak-32 - @hoyaharper - @wildxwidow - @gretagerwigsmuse - @bradshawburner - @iamaslytherin0 - @lilyevanswhore - @too-fangirl-to-fuction - @fav-fanficssss - @benhardysdrumstick - @fandomxpreferences - @acatwriteshere - @1234-angelika - @double-j - @cocoskween - @sunflowersteves - @teacupsandtopgun - @littlezee80 - @sometimesanalice - @je-suis-prest-rachel - @khaylin27 - @infamous-reindeer - @hotch-meeeeeuppppp - @sarahjoestewy-blog - @sunnysidesidra - @notroosterbradshaw - @yanna-banana - @inthestars-underthesun @avengersfan25 - @wkndwlff - @zbeez-outlet - @lt-spork - @indynerdgirl - @loveforaugust - @mssleepy876b

@kassieesworld - @luckylexie - @lovemesomevesey - @mizzzpink - @books-for-summer - @a-serene-place-to-be - @deviltsunoda - @tv-fanatic18 - @memoriesat30 - @melody-death - @imnotcreativeenoughforthisblog - @dabisblackprincess - @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy - @realdirectionx - @waywardhunter95 - @myownworstenemyyy - @sexualparkour - @sadpetalsstuff - @almostgenerallyalways - @hawsx3 - @nogoodchamberskid - @alilstressyandlotdepressy - @ebonyhogan24 - @14readwritedraw96 - @ccbb2222 - @taytaylala12 - @haideehaids - @alittlechaotics-blog - @starkleila

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#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw #top gun fanfiction #tgm fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster fanfic #rooster x reader #Bradley bradshaw fic #alli writes #Bradley bradshaw x female reader #rooster imagine #bradley bradshaw angst #Bradley Bradshaw fanfiction #rooster bradshaw #Bradley Bradshaw x you #rooster x you #remember you even when i don’t #bradley bradshaw: forgetful boy

[tarothouselattier]

I’m doing good, I’m on some new shit Been saying «YES» instead of «NO» - - the 1 by Taylor Swift

What you need to say "YES" to,

instead of the usual "NO"

all the images are from pinterest

This reading turned out to be not what I was expecting, but I feel like this is even better. There are some heartfelt moving messages and also some harsh necessary truths that will ultimately benefit you. I just hope you enjoy this one, like I did!

PLS feel free to share your thoughts and impressions with me in my ask box or message me. There is nothing I value more in this blog than human connection!!

If you're not sure how to choose a pile, what I like to do is observe image, close my eyes and while taking a few deep breaths I repeat the question in my mind and ask spirit to guide me to my pile. After I open my eyes observe the piles again and one or more usually stands out to me. It just buzzes with energy. | just can't tear my gaze away.

No matter what, I come back to that pile.

If this is not your way of doing things, I asked my spirit guides to help me choose a photo that correlates specifically with you and your energy. Even the text "Pile" I chose for you based on your energy. So, feel free to just choose what you like.

PILE 1 🫸🫷

SAY “YES” to:

choosing yourself as you are rn and crowning yourself as a Queen

moving yourself and your world forward

taking the sword in your own hands

you are my lady in waiting. Which is weird because you’re actually the Queen of swords, all of the Queens in tarot are bad bitches and they’re the leaders of their own life, but it’s like you are waiting for someone to give you your sword. You need to realise that that sword is your life and all your life energy it comes from you not out. You just really remind me of the Timothée Chalamet quote “you need to realise that the life comes from you and not at/to you” yeah, something similar he said.

honestly pile 1 am flabbergasted with you. Can you imagine, IMAGINE the Queen of swords. LITERAL Queen of swords, like an actual real-life figure and she’s waiting for someone to give her a sword. Is she really THE Queen of swords if she’s waiting for someone to give her her own sword.

YOU NEED TO MOVE. It’s like if your leg was cranking up and making you uncomfortable you still wouldn’t move it. Nobody’s gonna do it for you.

You need to say YES to yourself, to your potential, to your actuality, to your abundance, to the money that you want and you know I don’t know why but like fame and recognition are coming through strongly. Create your own World. Collect all your Ls and be like okay, okay goodbye I’m taking this and I’m going away. And at least, AT LEAST .I’m moving .

Yeah, you may be down, really really down but you still got you you still can move, and that’s truly all you need to say yes to. MOVING. Because it’s like you you’re making it seem like you were stuck, I don’t even know, up with ivy and you’re just cornered into a wall and you were glued.

Obstacles and your past are not the things that are stopping you from your abundance and you living your best life and being the most incredible version of you. Yeah you may have made mistakes but your mistakes aren’t holding you back, you are holding onto your own mistakes. You are stuck in the labyrinth of your own mind. You need to move. forget about the past I just need to move. You thoughts don’t make your life. YOU make your life. It’s OK to grow and change. What is not OK is thinking you can’t!

Pile 2 ☀️ You are my sweetie honey-pumpkin pie. Here's a hug and a celebratory hurray for what's ahead of you!

you need to say YES to:

start getting dressed more fancy, the way you like.

say yes to your graceful elegant side.

Also you need to say yes to being more gentle with yourself. It’s okay to not rush with your feelings if you still feel hurt and shocked.

"Start looking forward and stop looking back" - What's the use of feeling Blue? Song from Steven Universe. My personal favourite quote for situations llike this. (You won't believe it but I once channeled it from Jinx oddly enough. She gave me great advice)

getting excited about your own life!

It’s like you feel that you missed your chance on something, or something in your life did not turn out the way it was supposed to it’s over and you just can’t accept that it’s over.

I can't make this shit up. The card that flew out next was the 2 of cups.

Did you go through a breakup recently?

If so, then I am with you. To be honest, I’ve noticed that people are literally collectively going through breakups right now. Doesn’t matter if it’s a relationship that lasted for years or several months. EVERYONE is breaking up right now. I swear to you. Me included. I’m with you, honey🥹❤️❤️

Okay, I fully understand now what I need to say to you.

I know how much it hurts. Trust me, I’ve gone through the same thing a week ago. It was a 4 year relationship. But it was dying. There is no saving the wilted flowers. They blessed your life with their beaty, served their time and left space for the next amazing thing to come in their place. Say yes to letting it go! Say "yes"! Understand, this was for the best! And you need to start thinking about yourself. What is over is already over and done with. You cannot get it back, you cannot change it. You need to understand, this break up, this thing, it happened. "There is happiness after you, but there was happiness because of you" I PROMISE YOU you need to get excited honestly say yes to getting excited. This is a new chapter in your life and let me tell you, I feel like you’re gonna be, man.. if I like you were in the dark, this whole whole freaking time and you’re kind of amazed how it’s over, but somehow there’s a glimmer of hope and you might actually feel better than you thought you would. And I keep hearing "bedazzled". You need to be out there at the frontlines of your life. You need to let your spark shine, don’t feel guilty. Feel sad, but also understand that the person may not have been your future but they did turn out to be your past instead. And they were there and it’s amazing, and now is the start of your next chapter and let me tell you, it’s gonna be exciting!! You need to like, you need to get excited about this, truly. Move don’t be pushed around by the paast that you own. Don’t stay stuck in the same place. Don’t let these thoughts and whatever there is overcome you. There is no need, you’re the Queen! The boss of your own life! Think about the fancy stuff that you want to buy for yourself, the concert tickets that you want.. I might be projecting, but truly this is a collective thing right now so I feel like I’m speaking to you as a friend, but also this is literally what the cards are saying. Your life will literally glimmer and shine as the Sun and the stars. Take control of your life. Be the leader of change. All of the things that you want to do. It’s time! it’s time to make plans and make them come to life because this is the going forward. It's the only thing that will make you feel better, not dwelling on the past. It’s over. It’s okay to relax into your bright future. HELL, into your bright present. Notice how you feel lighter. It's like you finally cleaned out your old closet. Like you felt heavy and stressed all this time without knowing why. And when you broke up you realised that the person that you so loved was the last thing holding you back. And you finally feel fresh. Finally feel like you have your whole life ahead of you. Breath and breathe out. The only one you need to love you is YOU!

But still, I love you! ❤️❤️☀️

Songs you might enjoy at this particular time(besides:

Bejeweled - Taylor Swift

Happiness- Taylor Swift

Midnight shy - Miley Cyrus

Truth hurts - Lizzo

Break free - Ariana Grande

Clean - Taylor Swift

Thank u, next - Ariana Grande

Honestly, the Renaissance album is the vibe rn, but skip the love songs, if you’re still uncomfy.

Additional picture-messages for you that I channeled

Pile 3 My dragons🐲

I strongly feel you were given a precious gift in this life, a divine gift, truly.

YOU MUST SAY YES TO THIS OR ELSE!!!:

YOUR WILDEST DREAMS AND PLANS

SEEING YOUR VISION THROUGH TILL THE END NO MATTER THE COST

MAKE YOUR PROJECT/DREAM/DESIRE A REALITY RN OR I'LL BITE YOUR EAR OFF(affectionate)

RAGE AND SEE YOUR OWN WORTH

“YOU'VE NEVER GIVEN UP ON ANYTHING IN YOUR LIFE. SO DON'T YOU DARE START NOW”

When I was channeling your pile:

What I meant to say: “my caterpillars, turning into butterflies”.

What I actually said: “ah, my butterflies, turning into caterpillars”. 💀

Crying rn.

Believe in yourself, no matter your doubts. You’re actually turning into a butterfly. You not believing in yourself is the only thing stopping you from seeing it. Believe and speed up the transformation.

I then heard “my dragons” ssoooo.

It’s you. You are my dragons.

I feel so strongly for you pile 3!!!!!! DON'T YOU DARE be careless with your gift, whatever it may be. Weather it refers to your inner power, or maybe an idea that you want to bring to life. Don’t you dare miss this opportunity because of your fears or your disbelief in yourself. You are this powerful for a reason don’t you dare give it up!!!!!!!! Don’t you dare be careless.

This is as much of a warning as it is advice and I advise you, I demand of you strongly! Don’t you dare pass up this opportunitybecause you think you are incompetent or not good enough, any of that crap. You doubt yourself for literally no reason, don’t let it cloud your judgement or stop you from taking action. You might believe what you believe but still do it anyway. You have a brain, you have hands. You may not think the best of yourself rn, but at least rage and be like: "like hell I'm about to let it go with the wind!!! NEVER." Because I feel like you’re extremely gifted psychically, or you have something to offer that only you and no one else can. it’s like you have a spark in you, it’s amazing. YOU are the one who is meant to bring it to life. I am just, wow. This is so incredible that I am kind of speechless and all I can do is be like "don’t you dare be careless with that, don’t you dare be lazy, don’t you dare doubt yourself"

You need to be worried about giving up, so don’t you dare give up!!! See it through whatever idea that you have. I don’t care, no matter what, put your blood sweat and tears into it and all of your burning passion and desire and your life force and see it through. BRING THIS SHIT TO COMPLETION. You will receive something MAJOR. the divine is on your side. Don’t you dare lose this halfway. Don’t lose yourself. This is crucial right now.

I keep hearing this part of a song, and the words “like I believe in you” . I was thinking whether it’s like a Disney song but I believe this is a Steven universe song and I love my animation, It's an incredible song. the song is called "Who we are". it goes "and I believe in them, and I believe in yOuuuuu". The whole song is a bomb that you need rn. Listen to the song or catch these hands.

like oh my God say yes yes say yes all "t baby can you bring me all the way" from a Beyonce song on the Renaissance album. Now it is not time to give up. Now it’s not time to suddenly be like "oh well, guess I’m not good enough, guess it’s not bringing me anything" SAY NO TO BETRAYING YOUR VALUES. SAY NO TO BETRAYING YOUR OWN SELF". I know this reading is supposed to be about what you should say YES to, but in order to lit a fire under your ass I need to be counterproductive like you seem to be right now. Don’t give up cause you fucking doubt yourself, okay!? I’m mad right now because I believe in you so passionately and whloeheartedly. I would literally, I don’t know, fight you and shake you by the shoulders with how much I believe in you and how much I want to see you shine it’s crazy. I swear like DM me or put an ask in my ask box and tell me what it is that you want to do in this world because oh my God, oh my God, I’ll be your listener, your viewer...not your buyer at this moment because I don’t have money right now, but I will definitely be your supporter!!!! I want you to win, baby, so win!

The universe wants you to win, most of all you are the 1. You have to be the one who wants you to win the most!!! There’s nobody stronger than you. Forget even "higher power" Only pay attantion to yourself. You are the force!!!! so bring it on!!! Also, by the way, I’m a pile three girly as well, like strongly. You are my spirit friend, spiritual siblings, so I also have some dreams. So if you like, feel free to message me or put an ask in my box.

I love you and I am moved by your extremely powerful energy. I was like welling up with inspiration and drive. I feel like Nicki Minaj right now with this particular quote: “barbz, don’t you dare be lazy. Stay in school”

Additional picture-messages for you that I channeled

#tarot #free tarot readings #tarot community #pick a card #pick a pile #tarothouselattier #pac #tarot pick a pile #tarot pick a card #taylor swift inspired tarot #the 1 tarot

[dragon-kazansky]

Symphony of dreams

Morpheus x Female Reader

Morpheus has had time to adjust to life after his imprisonment. Reunited with his friend, and of course his wife, he focused on his kingdom. However, a new element comes into play. A Vortex. Rose may just be what he needs to find his missing residents.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Warnings: Long chapter ahead! This is the final chapter before the epilogue!

Chapter Ten - Blood and water

☆☆☆

You make your way to the throne room, head held high. You were determined to make Morpheus see reason. You were going to force him to accept help. You were also going to do all you could to stop him from hurting anyone else.

As you approached the doors to the throne room, you came across Mervyn. He bows his head to you as you join his side.

"Where are you off to?" You ask him.

"Im looking for Lucienne. Have you felt the quakes?" Mervyn asks.

"The quakes?"

As if waiting for its cue, the whole place shakes. You steady yourself. You look to Mervyn but he says nothing. You follow him through to the throne room.

Morpheus is looking at the window when you enter, and you can see why. A huge crack that seems to only have got bigger, reach up the window.

"What's happening?" You ask.

At the sound of your voice, he turns around and looks at you. You had been avoiding his company since Gault.

"I was, uh, gonna report to Lucienne," Mervyn says.

"About what?" Morpheus asks, turning his gaze from you to look at the pumpkin man beside you.

"The minor seismic activity... some minor damage."

"Then why not report to me?"

"Because you're busy?" Mervyn replies awkwardly. "Lucienne took care of all this stuff when you were gone, so I figured why with you-"

"Mervyn, things like this should be reported to Lord Morpheus. This is, after all, his realm," you say softly, trying to be kind.

Morpheus looks at you. The way he looks at you causes a twinge through your heart.vhe looks... desperate to be near you.

The room shakes again, and the crack in the window grows. You look to Morpheus.

"You want me to fix that for you, or will it just keep happening?" Mervyn asks.

"It will not keep happening," Morpheus assures him. "I will find the cause of the disturbance, and I will eliminate it."

You look at Dream with concern.

Mervyn leaves.

Morpheus turns his attention to you. "You came looking for me?" He asks.

"Yes." You nod.

He looks at you, waiting. You gather your courage to talk to him. "About earlier... I'm-"

"No. I'm sorry," he says.

You look at him now.

"You dreamt I hurt someone and then said I hurt you. Is that because I told you to stay here?"

"Morpheus, you have to let us help you. This isn't your burden to handle alone. You are not alone."

"I know that."

"Do you?" You ask.

"Yes, I do. I'm going to fix this. All of it." He speaks calmly as he looks at you. There is determination in his eyes.

"How?"

He slowly raised his hand out to you. "Come with me."

☆☆☆

You walk with him through the library toward where Lucienne is working. In one hand, he has some books. In the other, he holds your own hand.

"Lucienne."

"My lord." She turns to face him.

Morpheus lets go of your hand and takes a step closer to Lucienne. You hold your hands in front of you and listen.

"I have come to return these... and to assess the extent of the damage from the recent disturbances."

Morpheus takes a little look around. You decide to pick up some books off the floor to try and help a little.

"Have... you any idea as to what caused them?" Morpheus asks her.

"I assumed it was you, sir."

"Me?"

You glance up curiously at the pair.

"Maming further improvements to the realm... now that you're back."

Lucienne brushes past him to put some books away. You step to the side and gather some more from the floor.

"Lucienne, when we last spoke, I did not mean to imply that your efforts beyond the library are without value."

"Oh?"

"I really wish to relieve you of repsonbilities with which, had I been here, you would never have been burdened."

"I see."

Morpheus glances at you. You urge him to continue. He turns back to Lucienne.

"And... in that time, did you experience any... similar seismic disturbances?" He asks her.

"I did not."

She brushes past him again with more books.

"Have you any... theory as to their origin?"

"Speaking strictly as a librarian? I do. But you won't like it."

"Go on," he urges. You look at her and listen too.

"I know you're waiting to see if the vortex will lead you to The Corianthian and Fiddler's Green. The way she led you to Gault."

"She may yet still."

"Yes, but while you're waiting, she's putting cracks in the foundation." Lucienne states.

"Rose Walker has visited this realm before and done no damage. This is something else, something new." Morpheus replies.

"Perhaps. But if there is something new in The Dreaming and you did not create it, how did it get here?" Lucienne asks.

You look at Morpheus with worry.

"This is the vortex. I assure you."

Morpheus goes quiet.

☆☆☆

"Come with me."

You look up at Morpheus as you both walk through the palace halls. He's looking right at you with his beautiful blue eyes.

"Are you sure?" You ask.

"Yes."

You smile. "You want me to come with you?"

"I always want you with me. I... may need you." He cracks a small smile.

"You do need help. I told you."

"I know I don't admit it, but you are right. Lucienne is right."

You smile at his admittance. You reach out and take his hand. He relaxes at the feeling of you touching him.

"Then we shall find Rose together."

He smiles softly.

☆☆☆

"So, what do you think?" Matthew caws, looking down at Rose and Lyta as they walk toward the house at the bottom of the hill.

"Tell Lucienne she was right about the source of the tremors. And that I'm taking care of it."

You look at Morpheus.

He takes your hand and guides you down the hill. Matthew leaves. There is a certain purpose to his step as Morpheus walks, his coat bellowing out behind him.

You arrive at the house before the girls get there. Morpheus talks to Hector as you wait the other two. Rose and Lyta arrive.

Morpheus looks at them. You stand right beside him.

"Lyta, you remember I told you about Lord Morpheus, the King of Dreams?" Rose says, pointing out who he is.

"What do you want?" Lyta asks.

"He wants us to leave," Hector says.

"Why?" Rose asks.

"Because a ghost cannot escape his fate by hiding in The Dreaming," Morpheus explains. "Nor can a living human being escape her grief here. Do you not see the damage your presence has done to this realm? I cannot allow you to stay."

"Is there anything we can do?" Hector asks.

"You belong with the dead. You must go to the place appointed for you."

You lower your gaze. That is not an easy thing to hear from anyone.

"I'm sorry, but you must say your goodbyes now," Morpheus tells them.

Hector nods sadly.

"No. I'm not losing you again," Lyta says.

Hector stands up and walks over to her. "I love you so much," he tells her.

"You're not going anywhere. Get out of our house," Lyta says to you both.

"Lyta-" Rose tries to speak.

"Enough." Morpheus raises his hand. Hector starts to disintegrate down to nothing. Lyta calls his name while Rose pleads with Dream to stop. You turn and hide your face in Morpheus' shoulder.

Lyta cries. She cradles her bump.

"Your husband died a long time ago. He was a ghost, and this is a dream," Morpheus explains. "The baby is yours... for now."

You look at Morpheus with confusion. "For now...?" You whisper.

"The child was conceived in The Dreaming. It is mine."

"What?" Rose asks, mortified.

"And one day, I will come for it."

"No, you won't. You'll do nothing-" Rose starts to argue.

"This dream is over."

He swipes his hand through the air. You're back in the throne room. You stare at the steps as you try to understand what just happened.

"You killed my friend."

Both you and Morpheus turn to see Rose standing behind you. She hadn't woken up.

"How did you get here?" He asks.

"In front of his wife, and then you threaten to take her baby?"

"Do you know why this happened?" He asks her. "A vortex gathering strength can weaken the walls between dreams."

"I didn't ask for any of this," Rose tells him.

"Even so!"

"No! I don't want you coming near me or my friends ever again."

"Rose, listen to me."

"I do listen to you."

You can only stand there and watch them both. Things are getting agitated, and you didn't like it. Morpheus can sense your unease, but he must focus on the girl first.

"You said that a vortex can create universes or destroy them. So I suggest you leave my universe the fuck alone."

"Rose-" he warns her.

"This dream is over." She says. She vanishes.

You stare at the spot she had been standing in a moment ago. You didn't know what to think or say.

Morpheus turns and looks at you.

You choose to say nothing.

☆☆☆

You both return to the library. Morpheus calls for Lucienne. She comes out from between some shelves.

"My lord. There's something I must tell you."

"And I will listen." He tells her. "But first, you must let me tell you that you were right." He speaks softly. "The vortex was responsible for the damage to our realm, and I was... wrong to risk our sagtt in the hope that she would locate the missing Arcana."

That's the first time you have ever heard him admit he was wrong.

"You were not entirely wrong, sir." Lucienne says. "She's found them both."

"What?" He asks. "The Corianthian and Fiddler's Green? Where? How do you know?"

"Fiddler's Green told me."

Lucienne turns, and you look up to see a well-dressed man step out from the bookshelves. You sigh softly as he comes over. He bows his head to you both.

"Apologies, lord, for having left."

"Why? Why did you leave?" Morpheus asks. "I tusted you. You were the heart of The Dreaming."

"No, sir. You were the heart of The Dreaming. And you were gone." Fiddler's Green says. "I was curious. And it turns out that life as a human contains substance I never imagined when I was here. Which is why I returned because... he's murdering them."

"The Corianthian?"

"He appears to have built up a cult of worshippers who kill for pleasure, endangering the waking world and the life of a friend called Rose Walker."

"The Corianthian has found Rose Walker?" You ask. A chill runs down your spine. Morpheus looks at you.

Another dream come true.

"Yes."

"Can you imagine the damage he could do with someone like Rose?" Lucienne says.

"You must tell me where they are." Morpheus demands softly.

☆☆☆

"So, he too spent the last century in the waking world?" 'Gilbert' asks. You look at Fiddler's Green in his human form.

"Yes, but he seems to have experienced the worst of humankind." Lucienne points out.

You look down quietly.

"Still, his time appears to have changed him as it has changed me."

"How so?"

"Lucienne, he came to and told you he was wrong." Fiddler's Green smiles. "It was very nearly an apology. The Morpheus I knew was incapable of that."

You chuckle softly.

"Then perhaps he will be merciful to you since you come back on your own."

You look up. "I won't let him do anything to you."

Fiddler's Green looks at you. "My lady, your heart is as kind and beautiful as I remember."

You smile softly at him.

"It doesn't matter what happens to me. What matters is that Dream stops The Corianthian and saves Rose Walker."

You shake your head. "You matter too. I'm going to go find Morpheus. I shall insist he takes me with him."

"Are you sure that is a good idea?" Lucienne asks.

"He is my husband. I shall not let him do this alone."

Lucienne smiles. You're a good wife to Morpheus.

"But... there is no saving Rose Walker." She states. You and Fiddler's Green look up at her.

"What do you mean?" You ask.

"She's a vortex."

"Yes... I know that."

"He's... he's going to have to kill her." Fiddler's Green speaks with slight panic.

You look at them both. "What?"

"Did he not tell you?" Lucienne asks.

"No!"

They both fall quiet. Lucienne can't help feeling like she's made things worse. Morpheus hadn't told you that for a reason, she assumed.

☆☆☆

You storm into the throne room. Morpheus hadn't left yet. You march down the hall and over to him.

"Morpheus!"

He turns and looks at you.

"My love."

You glare at him hard. "Don't you dare."

"Excuse me?" He frowns.

"You're going to kill her..."

A look of realisation comes over him. He lifts his head a little higher as he looks at you. He knows he can not hide his intentions any longer.

"It must be done."

"There has to be another way!"

"There is not."

You fight back your emotions. Getting upset won't get you anywhere with him. You try to remain calm.

"How can you possibly be so cruel?"

"The Corianthian is using Rose to do harm. She doesn't even realise what she's doing most of the time. I must put a stop to the vortex."

"By killing her...?"

"I have no choice," he states, looking at you with desperation. He can see your pain. He wants to comfort you, but doing so will not change the situation.

"Take me with you."

"No."

"Morpheus, please."

He sighs softly and closes the distance between you both. He takes your hand in his and throws his sand up with the other. You fo not look away from him as you travel to where Rode and The Corianthian is.

☆☆☆

The Corianthian appears to be giving a speech. A room full of murderers is listening to him. He is using Rose to power their dreams into one.

You stand with Morpheus in the aisle, looking up at the rouge nightmare.

"You disppoint me, Corianthian. You and these humans you've inspired and created... disappoint me." Morpheus walks towards him. You remain standing in the aisle.

"I've done my best to be what you made me," The Corianthian says.

"No, you've done your worst, which was in so many ways what I had hoped." Morpheus joins him up on the stage. "You were my masterpiece. A dark mirror made to reflect everything humanity will not confront."

"That's what I am. That's what I've done."

"No. Look at you, walking this Earth for over a century, infecting others with your joy of death, but what have you given them? What have you wrought? Nothing. Just something else for people to be afraid of. That is all"

"So what now?" The Corianthian asks. "You send me back into their dreams?" He pulls out a knife. "'Cause I won't go willingly."

"A knife against a dream?"

"You don't think dreams can die? Let's find out."

You gasp and move to join Morpheus, but your husband raises a hand to tell you to stay where you are.

"Enough." Morpheus raises his hand to The Corianthian, who stabs the knife through Dream's hand.

"No!" You yell out. Your Morpheus is hurt. His hand bleeds.

"I've got Rose Walker getting stronger every second while you get weaker." The Corianthian says. "She's taking your place at the centre of the Dreaming. She's bringing the walls down between the sleepers' minds, and now they're all dremaing the same dream. A dream that I inspired."

"No." Morpheus looks at him.

"It's already happening. There's nothing you can do. She's asleep and dreaming."

"Then she is not beyond my reach."

"Oh, I think she is. Now that she knows you're planning to kill her."

You shake your head and hurry over to Morpheus, placing your hands on his shoulders. Morpheus uses that boost you're giving him to appear in the dream. He is telling Rose to wake up.

"Don't listen to him, Rosebud." The Corianthian says, appearing on the dream. "You're the one with power now, not him. This is your dream."

"It's his dream, for your world." Morpheus says, walking into the room with them. You're giving him your strength in the waking world to appear in Rose's dream.

"Then let's make it yours. Whatever you want, Rose. A blank canvas."

The Corianthian removes the extra people from the room, including Jed. Rose asks where he is, and The Corianthian reminds her he is fine and that he is sleeping right next to her in the waking world.

"This dream is yours now. The Dreaming is yours now."

"The Dreaming is yours. Is that what he told you?" Morpheus asks, approaching her.

"He told me you were gonna kill me," Rose says.

"Did he tell you why? When a vortex brings down the walls between dreams, she creates a single volatile dream that will collapse in upon itself, and take the waking world with it. Your world. Everything and everyone will die."

"Don't believe him, Rosie." The Corianthian whispers to her.

"It's happened before. I failed my duty, an entire universe was lost."

"He can't kill you if you kill him first," The Corianthian tells her.

"Killing me may save your life, but it won't save the lives of those you love," Morpheus states.

"I'm trying to keep you alive here." The Corianthian urges.

"I'm trying to keep your world alive." Morpheus argues.

"You have to choose one of us, Rose."

"Enough!" Rose exclaims. "If in as powerful as you say I am, then I will find my own way. In the meantime, the walls go back up. Because I'm not dreaming anymore."

Rose gets rid of the dream around them. "Thanks to you two, I'm wide awake.'

Rose wakes in the waking world.

☆☆☆

You gasp as you let go of Morpheus. His hand heals up quickly. You take it in your hands and examine it. He looks at you softly before turning back to The Corianthian.

"If you think I'm going back to the Dreaming with you-"

"You're not going back," Morpheus says firmly. "I brought you into this world to serve humanity. Not to feed upon it."

"Do you know why I do it?" The Corianthian asks. "So I can taste what it's like to be human. And you don't care about humanity. You only care about yourself and your realm and your rules."

"I contain the entire collective unconscious. Without my rules, it would consume me." Morpheus explains. You hold his hand gently. "Humanity would be consumed."

"Or you might actually feel something." The Corianthian adds. "I am not the problem, Dream."

"You're right. This was my fault, not yours."

You look at Morpheus with slight confusion.

"I had so much hope for you," Morpheus whispers, looking at The Corianthian. "But I created you poorly then."

The Corianthian gets upset.

"So I must uncreate you now."

Morpheus raises his hand to the nightmare, and you watch as he undoes his work.

"I am only sorry I won't be here to see Rose Walker do the same to you," The Corianthian says before he completely disappears. He turns to a pile of ash as a small skull lands on top. Morpheus picks it up.

"Next time I make you, you will not be so flawed and petty, little Dream." Morpheus tucks the skull away.

"And you..." Morpheus looks at the waking humans in the room. Who call yourselves collectors, until now, you have sustained fantasies in which you are the victims, comforting daydreams in which you are always right. But no more. The dream is over. I have taken it away. For this is my judgement upon you, that you shall know from this moment on exactly how craven and selfish and monstrous you are. That you shall feel the pain of those you have slaughtered. And the grief of those that mourn them still, and you shall carry that pain and grief and guilt with you until the end of time."

All those humans leave that hotel with a whole new mindset.

Morpheus walks out with you. Matthew meets you both an the entrance.

Rose and Jed have driven away.

"You want me to follow her?" Matthew asks.

"No. When she is awake, she is not a threat. Tonight, when she sleeps, I will find her." Morpheus says. "And we will end this.'

☆☆☆

Rose Walker had brought all her friends into one dream. A whirlpool had opened up and one by one each of her friends fell into it. Even Jed.

The green fields turned to a cold and empty wasteland. Morpheus stood with you in front of Rose.

"You've caused a great deal of damage. Nothing that I cannot repair, at least at this stage." Morpheus tells Rose.

"What happened to Jed? To my friends?"

"They're asleep in their bed, but they're not safe. No one is. Not until the vortex is dead."

You feel your heart aching. You cannot let him kill her. Rose didn't ask for any of this.

"Death is not always such a bad thing." Morpheus says. "You could stay if you like. My raven was once a mortal."

"Wait! Sir!" Gilbert comes running.

"Gilbert? What are you doing here?" Rose asks.

"This is Fiddler's Green," Morpheus clarifies.

"You? You're a Dream?"

"I am. I, I left my post here to experience life as a human being," Gilbert explains. "A life which I humbly offer in exchange for yours."

"I'm afraid that's not possible." Morpheus tells him. "For the Dreaming and the waking world to live, the vortex must die."

"Then what's the point of a vortex?" Rose asks. "Why do we even exist?"

"Honestly..."

"I have a theory." Gilbert says, interrupting Morpheus. "When a human is at the centre of the Dreaming, is it not to remind us that we exist because humans dream, not the other way around? The miracle of humanity itself should always be more vivid to us than any marvels of power."

"I cannot find it in my heart to punish you for leaving Fiddler's Green," Morpheus says. "But it is time you took up your appointed position once more."

"It would be my honour, sir." Gilbert says proudly. "It was never my intention to abandon my role."

"What was your role? Who were you?" Rose asks.

You smile and answer. "Fiddler's Green is not a who, it is a where. He is not a person. He was a place."

"And after your death, if you stay in the Dreaming, visit me." Gilbert requests. "Walk in my meadows and my green glades. Rest beneath my trees."

Morpheus smiles slightly.

"Farewell, Rose Walker. It was a privilege being human with you."

Gilbert opens his arms, and you all watch as he turns into greenery and life. Your surroundings turn green, trees come into existence, butterflies fly overhead. Fiddler's Green has returned to his post.

"I do not wish to take your life," Morpheus says to Rose. "But we all have repsonbilities and this is one of mine."

You can't take it any more. You step out and stop between him and Rose.

"No. I can't let you."

Morpheus looks at you with concern. "It has to be done."

You start to tear up. "It's not fair. She has a whole life ahead of her..."

"My love..."

Rose takes your hand in hers and looks at you. Thunder rumbles and the clouds turn dark.

"I am sorry," Morpheus says sincerely.

"It's fine," Rose assures you. "Just do it," she looks at Morpheus. "Whatever it takes to save my brother and my friends."

You shake your head. Morpheus looks at you with a pleasing gaze. He wants you to return to his side.

Rose looks at you. "I'm ready."

You let a tear fall and watch Rose let go of your hand. You can't look. You turn away. Morpheus raises his hand up toward Rose. He can hear your soft cries.

"My lord, stop." Lucienne comes rushing over with another woman. You look up through teary eyes.

Morpheus stops.

"Unity?" Rose looks at the other woman.

"This is Unity Kinkaid." Lucienne introduces her.

"I am Rose's great-grandmother. And according to this book, I was meant to be the vortex of this age." The woman holds up a book. "But because you were imprisoned and locked out of the Dreaming, that fate was handed down to my descendants."

"I don't understand," Morpheus says.

"You're not very bright, are you?" Unity scoffs. "Come here, Rose."

Rose walks over to unity.

"I want you to reach down inside yourself and give me whatever it is that makes you the vortex."

"But how?"

"You're dreaming, darling. Anything is possible."

You watch as Rose reaches down inside of herself and starts to pull out something. You've never seen anything like this before. Rose manages to grab what she's looking for and holds it out to Unity.

A glass heart, a storm whirling inside.

You've seen a heart like that before.

Morpheus looks at you, and you look at him.

"Thank you, Rose, love." Unity holds the heart and turns to Morpheus. "I the vortex now, Dream King, as I should have been long ago. So, leave my great-granddaughter alone."

The heart begins to shatter. A bright light and Unity becomes weak. She has passed on in the waking world.

Morpheus holds onto her in the Dreaming.

"Unity?" Rose looks at her concerned.

"What happened?" Unity asks.

"You died. So that Rose might live." Morpheus tells her. Tears continue to fall from your eyes.

"I'm so sorry." Rose hugs Unity.

"No, don't be. I'm not." Unity tells her. "I was meant to have died a long time ago, Rose. But if I had, I would never have met my golden-eyed man, and we wouldn't have had our beautiful baby girl, and you would not have been born."

Golden eyes? You looked at Morpheus again. You know of someone with golden eyes. Morpheus, of course, knows them better.

"Wait, the father of your child had golden eyes?" Morpheus asks.

"I've never seen anything like them," Unity says.

"I have."

"Goodbye, Rose, darling." Unity says to Rose. They hug again. "Mr. Holdaway will see to it that you and Jed have everything you need."

"You and your brother are children of the Endless," Morpheus says to Rose. "You have suffered enough. You may leave this place."

"Goodbye, Rose," you say to her.

She wakes up, Jed right beside her.

☆☆☆

Morpheus goes to pay Desire a visit.

You remain at the palace. You close Rose Walker's book and sigh softly. Matthew perches himself near your throne.

"Well?"

"She will be just fine. As will Jed. They are kin to Morpheus, so shall I make sure to check in with them from time to time."

Matthew caws. "Don't you have any children?"

"No." You say softly.

Matthew tilts his head slightly.

"Morpheus did have a son, once. That's a story for another time."

Matthew says nothing else on the matter.

Lucienne enters the throne room and you both look up.

"Lord Morpheus has requested your presence." She informs you.

You smile.

"Then I shall not keep him waiting."

Matthew takes flight, and Lucienne joins you at your side as you walk.

"Is all well?" She asks.

You smile.

"Everyone is going to be juat fine."

Lucienne shares your smile.

☆☆☆

@missdreamofendless - @mischievousvillainy - @kpopgirlbtssvt - @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy - @emarich7 - @lollipopsandlandmines - @mouth-whore -

#symphony of dreams #the sandman #morpheus x reader #female reader #dragon writes

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Platonic Yandere Tengen Family | Trick or Treat

“I WANT TO TRICK OR TREAT THIS YEAR!”

A collective gasp filled the room and your father crossed his muscular arms. Your burst of confidence seemed to leave your body along with the words that you practically shouted to your parents. 

“Now why would you want to do that?”

It was a genuine question, you wre well into your elementary years to finally ask your parents if you could go. As always you were different. Everyone else didn’t have to ask their parents, they just went. Coming back the next day with countless horrifying stories and lunch boxes full of candy. You couldn’t even be like your friend who just didn’t celebrate.

“Oh I don’t celebrate it. I just got to help mama bake in the kitchen.”

You couldn’t even say that because you didn’t know. You recalled you once asked your Mama-Hina, she smiled and patted your head promising to help you make some pumpkin shaped cookies. While they tasted delicious, you found that was all that was done and it wasn’t much to report when everyone spoke of their eventful night. You did try asking Mama-Makio but she laughed and roughly slapped your back saying, “Yeah but that stuffs for babies, right?”

You asked Mama-Suma and you were worried you’d erupted an ear-drum as she shoved you into her chest wailing all about how, ‘the holiday is too scary for her baby!’ 

You realized you never went to ask your only father. Something about it seemed final, to ask your father who had the final say. At his word everyone listens–for the most part– and maybe as a subconscious rule for yourself you never let yourself think to ask him. Until now.

“I-i want to go and get candy like my friends. I-i don’t have t-to go with them but I want to have a basket full of candy like everyone else!”

Mama-Hina came from behind your father to put a warm hand on your back. 

“If you want candy so bad we can just get you a biiiig pack. Just for you.”

She gave you her loving smile and you could hear your other mothers nod in agreement as they surged closer to you as though you were satisfied. You shook your head pulling away from them to cling to your father’s shirt. You looked up at him as you made your final plea.

“Papa, please! I want to trick or treat like everyone else! To earn my candy by how cute I’ll look in my costume!”

You father looked to the ceiling leaving you everyone in suspense as he gave an audible sigh. Looking into your big beady (e/c) eyes with his own fushcia pair before scooping you up into his arms to hold you high above his head and everyone elses. 

“You can go!” 

“Yay!” 

Focused on giving celebratory hugs and thank-you’s to your father who was all smiles, you were completely oblivious to the horror-stricken faces of your mothers.

______________________________________________________________

“Why would you agree to that?! Now they're going to want to go every year!”

“And they’ll probably grow-up even faster if we do that!!! Wahhhhh my baby’s going to scare themselves to death Waaah.”

Tengen had been selected for the honor of dropping you off to school today, courtesy of encouraging you in the new adventure that was “Trick or Treat.” Arriving back home had him bombarded with the worrisome and tearful expressions of his wives. Ignoring Suma’s light punches to his chest and Makio trying to pull her away, he tilted his head at Hinatsuru who was lazer focused on folding some clothes. Uzui sweatdropped as he realized she was giving him the silent treatment as she cleaned up after your exciteful mess this morning. Ever since he gave his verdict you’d been joyfully dancing around chanting all about how you ‘were trick or treating this year!’ You were so happy that you were completely blocking out the soft comments of your Mama-Hina both trying to reel you back in from Cloud 9 by warning you of the restrictions that will definitely be set in place. Don’t get her wrong, your smile makes everyone’s heart flutter but the reason as to why puts a strain on their joy. 

If you were asking to go trick or treating now, what would be next?! Going with friends?! Alone?! Going to horror houses!? Leaving home forever?! It seemed as though all the well-driven fears of strangers and monsters no longer dissuaded you. What were they to do?!

“Do you think I wouldn’t, consider what this would mean?” 

The hustle and bustle from his wives (Makio & Suma) immediately calmed to listen to him. Even Hinatsuru slightly turned her head to hear what their husband had to say. He smirked before proudly exclaiming.

“We’ll be there the whole way until we aren’t.”

“W-what?!”

______________________________________________________________

“Mama, what do you think? Do I look good?”

You posed for Suma who lost the draw in who was allowed to come with on the costume hunt. Apparently they were afraid of too many people making a scene. Anyway you ultimately decided to be a chocolate-chip cookie. She cooed along with the rest of your mothers as you twirled around with your milk themed basket. Uzui looked on with his own smile, relishing in not only the really cute pictures he’d get from this but the steps for his plan to fall into place. 

It wasn’t long before the sun had begun to set and you saw the other costumed children begin to make their rounds. You clutched the finger of your father’s massive hand as you tried to get him to move faster. 

“It's okay, papa you look super flashy! Now let’s go!” 

You figured he was stalling because he was shy of the macaroni necklaces you gave him as a makeshift  costume. You weren’t aware of the final instructions your father was giving to your mothers before letting your tiny body pull him along outside. 

“You’re right I do look flashy!” 

“Now come on Dad! We gotta get all the good candy before it's gone.”

______________________________________________________________

The night was turning out to be a blast. You were given countless compliments on how cute you were in your costume. Not to mention you got more candy when you pointed to your dad. You figured they must have liked your makeshift costume because they would give you even more candy. 

It was almost like the stories all your friends had told you; not to mention the insane amounts of candy you would get to have once you got home. Your bag was so big it was practically bursting. You beamed at the candy, pausing to yawn before taking in your surroundings. It was darker now, lights were turning off and Jackolanterns were being put out. It was time to go home but when you whipped your head behind you…your guardian wasn’t there.

“Papa?”

Only being met with the silence of the night. Even the crickets weren’t making any sound and you were all alone. You took a deep breath in and out, while trying to keep yourself calm you heard a rustle in the tree above. You looked above in time only to see something black and furry fall on your face. You didn’t scream you didn’t flail as you calmly removed the object from you to find that it was just a spider decoration.

You breathed a sigh of relief as you saw a string pull it back into the tree as you continued on thinking of where your home is. It wasn’t far but it did seem longer as you had no one to hold hands with. But this was okay. You're a big kid. After all you did go trick or treating today and that was a successful quest in its own right. 

“Awwwwooooooh!” 

You heard a mighty howl that had you scanning the area surrounding you, seeing no one but still feeling alarmed you walked a little faster. You were once again back in silence before hearing a gruff breathing growing nearer. You didn’t stop, you only sped up not enough to run but enough to stay a distance away from whatever had begun tailing you. Still hearing and now feeling whatever this was growing closer, you decided on a plan. 

Breaking into a sprint you let your little legs carry you as far as you could. Getting tired you looked for an opening before seeing an open gate with a dog house. Without thinking you tucked yourself inside letting whatever was following you pass by in a confused state. 

In the dark of the dog house you can see the soulless eyes of a pitbull. 

“Oh sorry for using your space….uh you can have these for payment.”

You reached into your bag fishing out the packaged sliced apples a loud woman insisted you have. Opening the bag and laying the slices on the ground the dog happily munched on the fruit slices as you gave a good scratch to his head. With slight difficulty you shoved your costume out of the doorway before turning around to blow a kiss.

“Bye baby, enjoy the apples!” 

You went along your way remembering the path to your house being sure to look at your surroundings. And as you neared your house you did find something odd: a drying trail of red liquid that started on the sidewalk that led to a patch of trees. You gulped before committing to follow the burgundy splotches in the dirt to an out of place box. It was giant and wooden, surrounded by chains that seemed to have fallen off. As you got closer you made a shocking discovery.

“Pee--yew! This stinks.”

You exclaimed to yourself as you lifted its lid. It was really heavy and you could hold it just enough to see what was inside. It was a mass of something and definitely responsible for the stench you smelt so easily. There were bugs all around and in it, you couldn’t handle it anymore, dropping the lid to wave the air in front of your nose as you walked back to the path, shaking in disgust before making your way back home. 

You had finally made it to your doorway already seeing the familiar silhouettes making frantic movements along with the muffled shouts of the family. You were going to knock before the feeling of being watched took over. Like you had many times before scanned your surroundings falling on the easily missed fellow in a suit. Across the street he looked deep in thought as he stared at your house. So invested that he failed to notice you come up beside him and tug at his sleeve. 

“Hi there Sir, I like your costume.”

You motioned to the red paint on his face. He didn’t respond, he just kept looking at you. You thought for a moment realizing he must be shy and since he was staring at your house he must have wanted to trick or treat. You gave him a sorry look before reaching into your bag. 

“I’m sorry we finished Trick or Treating for the night but here you can have this.” 

Grabbing his hand you open it and close it to hold the candy bar. You pat his hand and flash a smile before skipping back to your house and finally knocking on the door. With hardly any time passing at all the door swung open and multiple pairs of hands came and grabbed you pulling you inside to smother you with hugs and kisses. 

“Waaahhhh (Y/n) why were you out so late!? Why didn’t you come back, right away!!?”

“Were you scared baby? Papa came back without you. I was so worried.”

“(Y/n)...you’ve been through a scary experience, are you sure you want to go ‘Trick or Treating’ again?”

The room falls into a silence as you finish hugging your father who has a hard time letting you go even as you pull away to answer.

“Uhm uh..”

Everyone seemed to lean closer as you thoughtfully mulled over your night. Before coming to a conclusion at which you nodded to yourself.

“Yes! I want to do it again!”

A collective groan sounded from your mothers as your father loudly laughed only quieting when he felt your tiny hand push at his chest.

“But uhm, maybe you shouldn’t come with me since you just left me right after it was over…” 

You weren’t joking and Uzui Tengen took that to heart. It was all a part of his plan and he truly was watching you the whole time. His previously laughing face had turned into one of horror as his wives began to laugh at him. 

Subtly pushing for you to sit on the couch Makio and Suma helped you take off your costume to get ready for your bed-time routine while Hinatsuru fixed you a warm glass of milk. You recounted your adventure as they nervously looked at one another before hyper-focusing on their respective tasks.

“And then I met this one guy who was dressed up as that one singer with the nightmare music video!”

“A singer?” Hinatsuru sent a look to the no longer frozen in horrified shock, Uzui who perked up at your revelation. 

“Yeah, he wanted to come inside but *Yawn* I gave him some candy instead.” 

Carefully handing you your warmed cup of milk Hinastsure let Makio and Suma fight over how to put you to bed. You sleepily waved as you disappeared into the hall with a bickering Suma and Makio. 

“Uhm Uzui…did you see anyone that matched that description?” Her lilac orbs were already ashaken with concern as her husband didn’t respond, only looking cryptically at the sidewalk across from their house. 

#yandere platonic #yandere platonic Tengen family #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yanderexrea #yandere kny #yandere demon slayer #child reader #yanderes x child reader #platonic uzui tengen #uzui tengen #yandere uzui tengen #yandere uzui tengen wives #kny tengen #tengen x wives x reader #kimetsu no yaiba tengen #kimetsu no yaiba #tengen x reader #demon slayer makio #makio uzui #makio x reader #hinatsuru #makio #suma #demon slayer

[lightlycareless]

Hey I'm sorry for spamming you again 😭

But... imagine Y/N and Naoya pulling this prank on Naomi. I get that Naomi would be so mad at both of them

https://www.instagram.com/reel/C1cVXQwrHjV/?igsh=MWhrd3pvdWt4Nml2dQ==

Hello!!!

Sorry for the late reply, but I have to say, this never left my mind. This was really cuuuuuteeeeeeeee!!!!!!! I just had to oblige omg and don't worry about spamming me, I love it keep it coming!!!

You know what I think? Naoya is actually the one to suggest this. By doing so is when  when you know he’s completely accepted his role as a father and is enjoying doing so. Jfc thank you for sending in this NOW ONTO THE DRABBLE.

Warnings: none. Fluff. Naomi is a growing baby :’).

Naoya didn’t have any social media presence before you.

No, scratch that. He had a presence, only that it entailed stalking following you back then when he barely started to know you.

Once the two began to date, you convinced him to open up a proper Instagram, mainly so you could fill it with posts of you and him together, tag him on your pictures, and to make it easier to share things whenever the two are apart.

However, when you two finally have a beautiful daughter named Naomi, everything changes.

Besides opening an account of her own (only for friends and family of course, everyone else can jump off a cliff for all they care) to record of her day by day, from the cute matching outfits you’d dress her in, to her achievements, or simply anything she did that you found remotely funny.

Naturally, Naoya keeps up with every single thing that you post + all the messages you send him regarding his family; he is the first one to like and react and all in between as soon as you post them, and soon, he’s even looking for inspiration on what else to fill her feed with…

Or simply spend time with Naomi.

Thus, he begins to follow family content, accounts that suggest activities and places to go to with his lovely daughter… or innocent pranks to partake in.

That’s how the video came to be.

“What do you think? Shall we do it?” Naoya says, offering his phone to you.

“Oh… well, I don’t know.” You murmur, and not because you didn’t want to, but rather… “Naomi is too sweet, I don’t think she’s going to do anything besides giggle!”

“We don’t lose anything by trying.” He insists. “It’ll be funny if she does something, though. Might be able to record it too.”

“Alright, alright!” you quickly agree, not that really need much convincing. “We can do it once she wakes up from her nap!”

Thus, after little Naomi wakes up, as well as checking if she’s neither hungry nor in need for a change, Naoya is the first one to assume position, getting beneath the soft, warm covers and subsequently closing his eyes, ready to act as if he were asleep and let this prank begin.

“Go with papa, pumpkin!” you whisper once gently placing on the futon, just beside Naoya. She’d then begin to crawl over to him.

Naoya tried his best to not laugh at Naomi’s adorable coos and babbles, the ones clearly intending to call for her father’s attention, only to cruelly receive none of it.

She’d persist on by grabbing onto a handful of his hair and pulling it, hoping that by this he’ll finally stop acting the fool and look at her!

But after a few attempts, Naomi eventually gives up and instead does the most unexpected, cutest thing that either could’ve hoped, which was to nuzzle against his chest, close her eyes, and fall asleep once more.

How the two managed to not screech out of happiness is a mystery to remain, as well as his resistance to keep still while Naomi laid on him, perhaps the most difficult endeavor he had to endure in his whole life—no special grade mission could compete!

Either way, it was an adorable reaction that amounted to taking a few pictures, which both would fondly look at in the future.

Yet, your curiosity still demanded to know what kind of reaction Naomi would have towards you, thus, in another occasion, you’d replicate the same scenario although now in Naoya’s shoes, silently hoping that you’d also get a semblance of Naomi’s adorableness, not that you weren’t getting much of it any other time of the day, but you couldn’t allow yourself to be left out!!

So, you lay on the futon, with your husband placing Naomi besides you, doing your best to not giggle when she begins to prod at you, repeating somewhat of the same actions as she did with her father… though there was to be a slightly more aggressive edge to her actions, almost as if she’d caught onto their intentions and grew annoyed by it.

Perhaps… too annoyed, for this would be the first time either saw a new side of Naomi, the one that described far beyond a simple baby that radiated nothing but happiness and sunshine, a personality to be discovered, if not handled, because these negative emotions would be the first she’d ever experienced, and thus, ignorant on how to deal with them—unknowingly taking them out on you.

“Ouch!” you immediately shriek when Naomi’s small hand sharply slams against your cheek, repetitively doing so across your face until you eventually intervened by grabbing her arms. “No, don’t hurt mama!”

“Naomi!” Naoya gasps, quickly lifting her away from you. She whines, trying to fight against his hold while trying to reach out for you again. “No, Naomi, stop!”

“Nnghh bah!!” she protests, furiously trying to squirm her way out of his arms but failing. “Mah!”

“I won’t let you go back to mama if you’re going to keep hurting her!” Naoya declares, and for the briefest of moments Naomi seems to understand, enough for her to eventually quiet down and cease her rebuttal, but not from pouting or crying.

“Naomi… I would never ignore you intentionally!” you say, stretching your arms to hug her. Naoya lets her go with much hesitance, although by that point, Naomi could only express her regret. “It was just a silly prank, no need to be upset.”

Naomi pouts, as if embarrassed before resting her face onto your chest, sniffles eventually turning into hiccups.

“But that doesn’t mean it’s ok to hurt me, sweetie.” You add. “You hurt mama very bad.”

Naomi whines, and both know that even when young, she wholeheartedly regrets her actions.

Once tiring herself by crying, as well after eating a bit, Naomi would eventually fall asleep, giving both parents the perfect moment to ponder about what transpired and how to approach this situation.

“Why did she react that way? I never thought our little pumpkin had it in her, always so adorable…” Naoya sighs, crossing his arms as he relaxes against the wall while watching you prepare the food for that day.

“Well, not that you mention it… Naomi always whined whenever I had to peel my eyes off her.” You admit. “I thought she was being talkative, or simply acting like any other baby would when away from their mom, but I guess it was something deeper than that.”

“Who would’ve thought our daughter was the jealous type?” he snickers, you smile.

“Since she’s got you as a dad.”

“I’m not jea—”

You raise an eyebrow.

“Fine, alright. But I would never hurt you.”

“She’s just a baby, a cute, adorable one that is starting to discover her feelings and how to react to them.” You add. “Naomi must’ve been upset that we tried to do the same thing on her twice, when she just wanted to play.”

“Or that she called for us and we didn’t answer immediately.”

Like we usually do.

You sigh.

“Oh, I must’ve spoiled her horribly!” you cry. “I was advised against giving her too much attention, that it’ll make her more demanding and whatnot…”

“By whom? My relatives?” Naoya frowns, you look away. “I wouldn’t take advise from people that leave their children to their own whenever committing mistakes…”

“I don’t want to do something that will hurt Naomi in the long turn” you quietly admit, looking back at him. “But I’m also scared of reprimanding her, of seeing her upset!”

Raising a daughter was not to be an easy thing, as enthusiastic both were. Her fate, the way she’ll grow up to be, all the achievements she’ll obtain and more greatly rely on what you, as her parents do; in that case, there is no room for mistake…

But luckily for Naomi, she had both her mother and father wanting nothing but what’s best for her, and after understanding what needed to be done, the two began to help her channeling her emotions into something more positive—something that will hopefully branch out into sorcery when the time is right, Naoya hopes.

That didn’t mean Naomi would stop demanding of either your or Naoya’s attention (specifically yours) though in a less aggressive manner. She’d still a bit overzealous whenever others attempted to sway you away from her, (Naoya included) but that wouldn’t last long until she was doted on by the same people that tried to distract her—always loving the attention, Naomi was never one to deny them.

Though her behavior could sometimes become concerning, Naoya and you knew well to enjoy these short moments with her, for it wouldn’t be long before she’d grow up and leave these antics behind, just as most kids did, replacing them with a bit of… apprehension for said demonstrations of affection.

Or preference for pranks, that is.

“When will you two stop doing that?” Naomi would eventually ask after the nth prank that week—at first, they’d make her laugh, then confused, but now, irritated. As expected of a young teenager who wanted nothing but to not appear humiliating to her friends.

“Probably never, little pumpkin.” He answers with a chuckle. “Not when your reactions are hilarious.”

“And when will you stop calling me that?!” Naomi frowns, cheeks red. Naoya laughs once more.

“See?” he shrugs. “You’re not helping yourself, Naomi!”

“Ugh, whatever.” She rolls her eyes, turning around to leave. “Have fun with your lame and old jokes.”

“Old?? I’m not—I’m not old!”

Long are the days where adorable little Naomi would scurry to her parents whenever she could, chubby little hands reaching out for them so they’d carry her, giggling as soon as her cheeks where peppered with kisses.

But she’ll always remain their little one, the one that taught them love at first sight does exist, the wonders of parenthood, as well as what it’s like to be the embarrassing parent for once in their life—a bane they never thought to experience, thinking themselves to be cooler than average, a reality that was quickly shattered with Naomi's sharp refutal.

It's like a cycle, y/n and naoya preaching that they could never be uncool and then... Naomi comes along. hahahah

Anyways, I envisioned for a long time now that Naomi is quite aggressive when it comes to getting what she wants; she probably never shows that because you and naoya just endlessly dote on her—but it becomes quite apparent in situations like this, and of course, when she has siblings.

though with hard work and dedication that stops :> she learns that being jealous about something like that (something that she'll always have) is not the right way to go on with her life and it's also a waste of energy so, she moves on :) I wish naomi could stay a little baby forever tho, writing naoya and y/n as enthusiastic first time parents is 🥺❤️

I truly enjoyed writing this little drabble, it warmed my heart 🥺❤️ thank you so much for sending in this!! I always appreciate whatever you share with me 🤭 I look forward to the next hehe.

Take care, and hope to see you soon!!

#ask #naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #prompt series: jujutsu kaisen

[lolahasmoxie]

Thanksgiving (E.M.)

I posted this as a headcanon earlier, but it wasn't showing up in the tags, so let's try this again. I also expanded it because it could have been better.

WARNINGS: family, holidays, disgusting fluff, implied smut, mentions of sexy times (I AM A SLUT FOR DOMESTIC CASUAL INTIMACY)

The road to your Aunt's house was quiet as you rode shotgun while Eddie drove. He played Megadeath while you looked out the window, enjoying the Fall weather. The way the trees were at the end of changing colors. The leaves will be gone in just a couple more weeks, and winter will be here.

You glance over when you notice Eddie beating his hands against the steering wheel of his van. That doesn't bother you; it's how his brow is furrowed in complete concentration.

"Eds, you doing okay?"

"Of course I'm okay. I'm fine. You're fine. Everything is fine."

"I don't know why you're nervous," you interject. "You've met everyone already."

"You say that because you were never the town derelict," he says under his breath.

"Stop it. We will spend the morning with my people, go home, nap, and then have dinner with Wayne. It's going to be fine."

You lean over and kiss him on the cheek, which seems to do the trick when you see the slight smile on his lips. It's about another ten minutes before you're parked in front of your Aunt Deb and Uncle Doug's home.

They come out to greet you both, hugging you both as your Aunt tells Eddie that he's all skin and bones. They help you bring in the food you have been asked to bring, and once inside, Uncle Doug pats Eddie on the shoulder.

"Picked up some new vinyl last week; why don't you come to check it out." Eddie smiles as he follows your Uncle while you trail your Aunt to the kitchen, where your Dad is already sitting at the table.

"How you doing, Monkey?" he asks, and you smile at your old childhood nickname. "Where's your man at?"

"Hey, Dad, Uncle Doug is showing him some records." You help put the food out on the counter when the door opens, and the voice of your Aunt Linda carries into the kitchen.

"I'm here! I'm not late, am I?"

"Just in time," Deb tells her sister. You get swept up in more hugs, and as Eddie and your Uncle come out of the den, your Aunt turns her attention to your metalhead.

"Oh my goodness, Eddie, look at you!" she says before cupping his cheeks and pulling him in for a tight hug. He blushes a deep red from his cheeks to his ears, and you can't help but smile at how your family fawns over him.

"Linda," your Dad fusses, "Let the boy go. C'mon, son, help us set up the table." Eddie accepts the out and gives you a quick peck before following your Dad and Uncle outside.

Your aunts pepper you with questions about your job and how you and Eddie are doing, and when you look out the window onto the patio, you notice that Eddie is gazing back at you. He gives you a wink and a smile, and you want to swoon.

"Okay, everyone. Everything is ready, so let's eat!"

You let Eddie go ahead of you, helping your Dad with his plate before fixing your own. When you go outside, Eddie sits across from Linda, saving a spot for you next to him.

The conversation floats from topic to topic, friendly and easy, unlike anything Eddie had experienced growing up. The mood depended on how drunk his Father was or if he was even there. His mom always found ways to make the holidays special; he preferred when it was just the two of them anyway.

During the conversations, you occasionally felt Eddie's knee press against yours. It was something Eddie did when he needed grounding, and you silently put a hand on his knee as you and your dad joked back and forth.

After finishing your plates, you and your Aunt bring pie plates for everyone. You take the can of whipped cream and cover your pumpkin pie, turning when you feel Eddie's eyes on you. He leans in close so only you can hear him.

"Do we have whipped cream at the house, or will I have to give you my own whipped topping later?"

"Why not both?" you reply, and Eddie's doe eyes grow large as you take a bite of your pie. His death grip on his fork tells you you'll pay for this later.

"Alright," your dad says after everyone is full. "Who wants to play some cards?" You gleefully clap your hands before helping your Uncle to clear all the plates. Eddie doesn't know what is happening; you hadn't prepared him for this part.

He watches you run to your purse and pull out a bag filled with nickels, dimes, and quarters. He trails everyone as they head to the living room and take seats around a small round table. Your uncle hands you the deck of cards, and Eddie's eyebrows raise when he sees you shuffle and then deal the cards like you're a Vegas dealer.

"Let's start with a nickel ante, and deuces are wild."

The following two hours are some of the most entertained Eddie has been in a long time. He's impressed with your poker face and the way you are fleecing your relatives for their change. He also loves how you bicker and tease each other, especially you and your dad.

"C'mon, Monkey. Hurry up and deal, I'm aging over here!"

"I'll deal when I'm ready, old man!"

Eventually, Eddie joins in, but he only lasts for a short time among the card sharks. His face gives away everything his lips don't, so it only takes five hands before the change he had scrounged in his van is gone.

Just after 2 PM, you and Eddie say your goodbyes and load up the van with leftovers. He tells your Aunt Linda to bring her car into the shop on Monday for him to look over, and he and your Uncle plan to visit a couple of record stores the following weekend. You and your dad make plans to have lunch during the week.

Soon, you're on the road back to your home. You're driving this time, blaring your music since you're behind the wheel. You're belting out Lola by the Kinks at the top of your lungs, making Eddie smile as he takes in the fall scenery and steals glances at you.

Pulling into your driveway, Eddie hops out and grabs your things, following you as you head into your shared home.

"I'm gonna go change. Is that okay?"

"Yeah, babe," you say as you open bags. "I just need to put this stuff in the fridge, put the turkey in the oven, and I'll be there in a minute."

You eventually follow Eddie's clothes trail leading to your bedroom. When you open the door, he rests against the headboard and rubs his distended tummy.

"I just wanna sleep for two days."

"Well, Wayne is gonna be here at 7 PM, so we can only nap for 4 hours," you say as you disrobe. You strip down to your panties and throw on a light sweater before climbing in next to Eddie. He immediately pulls you to his side. You move your leg over his thigh while your hand softly takes over rubbing his belly.

"Did you have a good time?" you ask as you close your eyes, a yawn escaping you as Eddie runs a hand down your arm.

"I had a great time," he says softly. "I'm still shocked they like me. I keep waiting for them to tell you to wake up and smell the freak."

"Hey," you interject as you lean up and meet his gaze. "Stop with that; I hate it when you do that. My family likes you because they see what I see. Trust me, you would know if they didn't like you. My family isn't exactly what you would call subtle."

Eddie chuckles before leaning down to give you a light kiss. Your body is pliable to him as he shifts and moves you onto your side so he can spoon you. You snuggle under your comforter, Eddie's breath beating a steady rhythm against your neck as you drift off into a food coma.

"Love you, Princess."

"Love you too, Sweetheart."

LATER THAT EVENING:

Wayne: dang, that bird is stuffed.

Eddie: bird's not the only thing that got stuffed.

You: 😳

Wayne: please stop saying weird shit at the dinner table, son.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you

[adelaidedrubman]

OC INTERVIEW!

i was tagged by dears @g0dspeeed @cassietrn @direwombat @simplegenius042 @wrathfulrook to do a little oc interview, thank you dears! i decided to do this one for america’s sweetheart verse for acclaimed novelist jestiny ft. her long suffering publicist andrea who was mostly there to make sure there was some accurate information, then i decided to give her own spotlight. on that note, sorry for the length and needless preamble no expectation to read All That

“Ugh.” Jestiny grabs the wall to steady herself from stumbling at Andrea’s quick darting into the doorway to block her exit. “Are you fuckin’ serious? You’re really gonna tell me  — a grown fucking woman — I’m not allowed to go play until I finish my homework?”

“It smells like you’ve gotten to play plenty today,” Andrea retorts with a nod towards the disposable coffee cup clenched in Jestiny’s fist and reeking with the unmistakable stench of high proof whiskey. “You’ve put off doing a simple introductory questionnaire for three months now. You’re never going to hire a ghostwriter if you can’t respond to an information request that takes five minutes.”

“I don’t need a ghostwriter,” she mumbles in protest as she takes a sip from her coffee cup that has never once contained coffee, or fooled anyone into thinking it did. “Just a copy editor.”

“Three copy editors have quit because you started using them as ghostwriters. And whatever job title you want to give them, they need some basic biographical information about you to work on your memoir.”

“See, that’s the thing, is no they don’t. Not with the kinda thing I’m writing. It’s all just empty fluff, don’t you —”

“Even for empty fluff, they need a vague skeleton,” Andrea snaps. She pulls Jestiny by the arm towards her desk, pushing her down into one of her guest chairs before taking her seat behind it and clicking a pen. “I canceled the car you called and changed the passwords to all your rideshare accounts. And we both know you couldn’t make it out of the parking garage without getting a DUI. You’re not going anywhere until this is done.”

“Oh, that’s real fuckin’ nice Andrea,” Jestiny hisses. “Hold hostage the woman who just survived —”

name 

“jestiny ellen rook.”

nickname

“none. nope. never had one. never will have one. gotta say the whole thing every time. flaunt it in front of some motherfuckers who were too fucking dumb to ever figure it out.”

gender

“again, andrea — i am a grown fucking woman.”

star sign

“how the fuck am i supposed to know that shit?”  without bothering to check her birthday, andrea writes down aries.

personality type

“america’s fuckin’ sweetheart, baby. kind, lovable, and humble. what else is there?’’  andrea’s hand moves of its own volition to scrawl out the words ‘dark triad,’ immediately scribbling it out to write down ‘istp’ and ‘8w7.’

height

“five foot five, ballpark.”  andrea gives jestiny a skeptical look.  “maybe closer to five-six, camera adds a half-inch.”   andrea, actually 5’6, sighs and writes down 5’4, covering it with her hand to hide from jestiny.

orientation:

“c’mon, you don’t really have to ask that.” andrea dwells unwillingly on the menagerie of half-dressed strangers milling about jestiny’s home every time she steps into it. no, she doesn’t.  “or lie to the press about it, if that’s what you’re dancing around. it’s 2018! america’s sweetheart can be openly bisexual, right?” 

nationality/ethnicity:

“again. america’s fucking sweetheart, baby.”

fave fruit 

“persimmons. don’t put that down, though, that information is for the fuckin’ benefit of your files, so you can get me a halfway decent fruit tray in my dressing room next talk show appearance. write some bullshit about how much i miss the fresh picked huckleberries of hope county and nowhere grows ’em better, or something.”

fave season

“awards! ha, we do have fun. gotta be fall, though. salmon run season. but pretend it’s for the sake of pumpkin spice whatever.”

fave flower 

“psh. whatever happens to be in the bouquets i receive from my adoring fans. but if i have to pick, i guess, uh… forget-me-nots, maybe. or — heh, or cockscomb.”

fave scent 

“whiskey.”  andrea looks between jestiny and her cup, wondering if she has told the truth for the first time.  “coffee, i mean.”

coffee, tea, or hot chocolate: 

“i just said —”

average hours of sleep: 

“eh, who can really keep track of that?” people who have to plan their sleep schedule around preventing jestiny from having unsupervised access to social media can and must keep track of that. andrea writes down 3 hours.

dog or cat person

“ew. no. opossums. but write down dog, that probably polls better. andrea, should i get a dog?”   andrea vigorously shakes her head in the negative as she dutifully writes down dog. 

dream trip 

“heh. where do you have me booked for next? checked off a lotta the bucket list already. you’re looking at a dollywood gold pass holder. finally got to go there after a lifetime of dreaming, and it was —”  andrea notes the way jestiny’s eyes suddenly glaze over, her gaze growing hollow and flat as she pauses in searching.  “great. fulfilling. worth the wait. always ready to go back, or onto the next adventure. i mean, it’s such a fucking blessing, don’t you think?” andrea doesn’t answer, looking on with some concern as a hint of earnest joy creeps back into jestiny’s smile. “to have one’s full constitutional right to freedom of movement completely fuckin’ unrestricted?”

favorite fictional/real character

“uh, shrek.”

number of blankets you sleep with? 

“as many as i want, baby! that’s another benefit of freedom, don’t have to settle for a single scratchy, paper thin excuse for a blanket to curl up on my cot with. i get to enjoy my forty-winks on silk sheets and soft as a cloud comforter, on my casper mattress —”

random fact:

“i know how to do a bit of sleight of hand magic.” andrea feels a light brush at her ear, and looks to see jestiny pulling from behind it a matchbook with the number of a taxi company stamped in bright yellow.  “and for my next trick, i’m going to disappear.”

Andrea sighs as she watches Jestiny march out of her office yelling pick-up orders into her cellphone. It was successful for longer than she would have expected, she thinks, tapping the end of her pen against her bottom lip. 

She clicks her pen a few times as she shuffles the papers on her desk, staring down at a blank copy of the questionnaire she’d made in case Jestiny was in foul enough spirits to rip up the first in defiance. 

It would be nice, to have someone ask her things about who she was for once, she thinks, in an indulgent flight of fancy.  

name: 

“andrea simmons.”

nickname: 

“...anal-retentive goldilocks, was the most recent one.”

gender

“woman, she/her.”

star sign

“capricorn.” 

personality type

“estj. 3w2.’’ 

height

“five foot six. empirically verified.” 

orientation:

“lesbian, last i had enough free time to check.”

nationality/ethnicity:

“american. primarily german and scandinavian ancestry.”

fave fruit 

“nectarine, left to my own devices. learning to appreciate leftover cantaloupe picked around on fruit plates.”

fave season:

“summer. warm, sunny, long days.”

fave flower: 

“orchids.”

fave scent 

“lavender, jasmine, eucalyptus.” 

coffee, tea, or hot chocolate: 

“coffee. at least three shots of espresso. oat milk. two pumps of hazelnut syrup, no sugar.”

average hours of sleep: 

“three. when you have an infant, you learn to sleep when they sleep.”

dog or cat person

“cats. otto curled up in my lap at the end of a long day is the only thing that keeps me going, sometimes.” 

dream trip 

“any trip. any trip alone. any trip alone without having to worry about what i will find when i come back. greece would be nice, i think.” 

favorite fictional/real character

“peggy olson.”

number of blankets you sleep with? 

“i have a weighted blanket and a quilt at home. and a fleece throw on my office couch that gets more use.”

random fact: 

“i considered going into politics, and interned on a few campaign teams during college. There are many days i regret not following through on that.” 

i know i’m super late to this, so major apologies for repetitive tags and extra no pressure out to the usuals @belorage @hctknives @fourlittleseedlings @galaxycunt @lordundying @florbelles @josephslittledeputy @afarcryfrommymain @poetikat @voidika @captastra @confidentandgood @deputyash @blissfulalchemist @shellibisshe @thedeadthree @nightbloodbix @miyabilicious @henbased @clicheantagonist @firstaidspray @strafethesesinners @jackiesarch @v0idbuggy @orionlancasterr @stacispratt @professorpineapple @strangefable @shallow-gravy @inafieldofdaisies @corvosattano @socially-awkward-skeleton opt in for tags on writing stuff here!

#america’s sweetheart verse back on my mind a lot lately i love you narratively satisfying character stagnation #v: america’s sweetheart #oc: deputy jestiny ellen #oc: andrea simmons