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creepling · 7 months

Note

hi! happy 1k <3 may i request a piece with johnny x single mom reader + the prompt “will you stay?” “of course, i’m not planning on leaving anytime soon.”? i thought it’d be interesting if reader was formerly captured by the sawyer family, while she was on vacation with friends, but johnny relented and decided to let her go because of how badly she begged for her life & at the time her baby was only 2 months old, which she told him. so johnny being johnny as well, he was able to track her down a month later — at first just to check up on her, but he decided he wanted to help her raise her kid & kind of switch up his life since the baby’s father is (willingly) out of the picture. also reader is a young mom (early 20s), around the same age that johnny is, he’s just a lil older. they’re still warming up to each other/developing their relationship but to the reader’s surprise, johnny’s really good with kids & has done a lot to help reader out to give her a break? AAAA THIS IS A LOT OF INFO IM SORRY but i hope it makes sense & that you have fun with making something out of this <333

AAAA ok no but i love this, idk it makes sense for the sawyers to spare a victim if they have a kid?? the whole "family" motto would get to them lol. i love all your info but i apologise if i've missed out on anything. i've made this drabble more like a time passing sort of thing so i could include everything.

tags: angst. single-mum!reader. reformed!johnny. kid is gn (use of they/it). descriptions of trauma. johnny feels a lot of guilt. mild blood ment.

“Drop the god-damn knife, Johnny. She’s got a kid for crying out loud!” Drayton barked.

Johnny’s adrenaline shot through his body, tensing his muscles and trembling his hands. “Is that true?” He growled, eyes shot out at your petrified stare.

You pulled a Polaroid picture out of your pocket, your bloody hands staining the corners. You beheld it to Johnny, trying to steady your shakes. Johnny gazed at the picture, the newborn clouded in white, its eyes closed in a peaceful sleep.

“My baby . . . My baby. I need to go home to my baby,” You sob, begging on your knees, hysterics maddening all parts of your manner.

Johnny’s knife dropped to the floor, and he thought about every bad thing he had done. There was no coming back from this.

It had been a month of silence. A month of sleepless nights and looking over your shoulder. Breastfeeding became agonising. Your baby’s cries sent you into uncontrollable alertness. Your hair was brittle and your skin shallow, the stress shivering through your body like a ghost entering your soul.

The letters came around that time. Off-white envelopes with a few dollars in cash. All that was left was a note,

For the Baby, I’m sorry.

Meeting him again after the kidnapping was an anxiety-driven step, bouncing your baby on your lap as you waited in the diner booth. You convinced yourself you lost your mind, wanting to rekindle with your kidnapper. But you hadn’t heard from anyone since the birth; the baby daddy became non-existent. Your family refuse to return your calls. The only person willing to help you was Johnny.

He was silent across from you for a while. The only words he uttered were to order from the menu. He shovelled down an apple pie while you bottle-fed your child, lulling them to their afternoon nap.

“Why are you helping me?” You remember asking. Visioning Johnny’s deep gaze, his subtle glances at your first-born, a tinge of sadness glazing his eyes.

He said he owed you too much. Your baby deserved to grow up with a male figure in its life, and you deserved someone to protect you. The sight of your youthful features withering away from stress, the permanent damage he inflicted on you, ached your eyes and down-turned your smile. It kept him up at night thinking about you, struggling with the fussing cries and flashes of his brute force. He wanted to step up. He was ready for redemption.

He drove you back home, watching over his new companions with careful eyes. His arm outstretched as he turned the wheel, hoping not to disturb the baby’s slumber. The rascal woke up eventually, full of energy the minute you invited him inside. “Would you like to hold them?” You asked, unable to ignore his loving stares.

He felt like crying, holding something so precious. Knowing he nearly orphaned this child, ridding it of a beautiful mother. He swore to protect the kid, holding its gentle head and leaning it into his chest. His gentleness surprised you, the warmth filling your smile for the first time in months.

Johnny never left the house. He hadn’t seen his family in months and had no plans on returning. Your little one was proliferating, and Johnny got used to using his strength to pry the ankle biter from dangerous objects. He ditched the knives and retired into swinging the kid until they were out of breath from laughter. He stepped up, got a job, and brought money in to keep you secure.

He was a different man, and he changed you as a mother. He repented for his sins. He begged for forgiveness with every stare your way, with every gentle touch. You finally forgave him, praying that his presence is destined to be everlasting.

“Will you stay?” He held you in his arms as you choked up, clinging to his body.

“I’m not plannin’ on leavin’ anytime soon.” Johnny kissed the top of your head, his arms around you. Your loving touch soothing the aching heart he’s adorned for decades.

#johnny slaughter x reader #johnny sawyer x reader #tcm game #texas chainsaw massacre #angst #creepling.1k

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dreadsuitsamus · 15 days

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May I request sfw prompt #39 and nsfw prompt #53 for Gohan where he falls in love with the reader after they have a one night stand but she's initially cold to him because she had been hurt in the past?

#39- "why are you scared of loving?"

#53- "you're more than just a one night stand"

author's note: this has been in my inbox since january of 2023 💀 but i have finally found my inspiration to get it done! there's no explicit smut but there are some nsfw mentions. this is also written as a prequel to my story protect!

pairing: gohan x fem!reader

warnings: talks of a past abusive relationship, mentions of reader's ptsd, nsfw mentions

A sigh quells the silence in your room as you dress after a shower. While not at the lowest point in your life, you're still not far from rock bottom. Living with your mother again, only a year and a half removed from that day your ex beat you to a pulp and left with all your money and all of the problems of his absence are still keeping you from flourishing. Ruined credit score from a broken apartment lease, incalculable debt from the hospital bills that your insurance refused to cover, and frequent nightmares of him coming back to finish destroying you into nothing give you constant anxiety and each day is a new struggle.

Safe to say, you haven't really been okay.

You glance at your phone with shame, nervous for when the inevitable text comes from a man that's far too sweet and far too good for you to deserve you skipping out on him in the middle of the night following the mistake of a one night stand. You met Gohan through a friend, and he offered to guide you through ridding yourself of the medical debts and this is what you've done to repay him. Hook up with him and then run for the hills the second he was asleep.

You close your eyes to calm yourself, centering again before the bad feelings of anxiety and depression can come creeping up your spine. Gohan knows about your past, and he's a grown man. Surely one as attractive as him has a few notches on his bedpost and would understand your absence.

But the way he looked at you last night, like you were heaven-sent and perfect has you doubting such an idea. Son Gohan could be a man like that if he wanted, but your heart and your mind alike know that's not who he is. He's a pure, old fashioned good boy. He wouldn't have slept with you if he didn't romantically like you to some extent…

And you certainly wouldn't have slept with him if you didn't want to reciprocate so badly it makes your chest ache with all of the want you harbor. To have a man love you, truly, and treat you as you deserve has been on your mind for years, well before your former boyfriend finally left you. But you had that kind of hope in Tyler, at first. He was kind, he was sweet and attentive… Though it only took moving in together for his true colors to show. Lying, cheating, stealing— That's who your ex was after all.

Your heart can't take that chance again.

You hang your towel on the back of your door, gazing at nothing in particular as you settle onto your bed. For the last few years it's as if you've had so much to plague your mind that you can't think of a single thing. It's strange to feel so empty, just entirely devoid of direction or purpose. You've got yet another set of paperwork to fill out for your medical debt, and then a few job applications as well that hopefully will last longer than a handful of months— all of these places only hiring you on as a temp is a god awful look on your résumé.

Your old laptop awaits, but you can do little more than flop back against your pillows and close your eyes. The war in your mind is something you're used to, but the usual stress on your body is gone.

You bite down on your lip as you remember the way Gohan touched you. The way he lit you up with his lips on yours, how gentle he was with your body and feelings, offering to stop or slow down— even when you were on the cusp of orgasm! He's a perfect sexual partner, and if it wasn't for how damn sweet he is you may have even thought to make it a routine thing.

You drift off to a blissful sleep that's heavy enough for you to miss that dreaded text.

I hope you made it home safely.

Gohan absentmindedly worries his lip between his perfect teeth, typing in a frenzy as he shoots back an email to the hospital that wracked you up with an inhumane amount of debt. He's got plenty to get done today, mostly for his actual job, but he just won't allow himself a moment to make any progress until these firmly-worded emails get the message across: you will not be paying them hundreds of thousands of dollars for fighting for your life!!

The huff he lets out after sending his email doesn't ease the anxiety that's been bubbling in his chest all morning. When you came over last night to work on a résumé, Gohan had absolutely no intention of sleeping with you. You're a woman in a bind and he's here to help, that's all! Disgust crawls over his skin anyway, shame buzzing his insides as he remembers everything that led to your passionate hookup.

You smelled so nice and looked just so damn pretty… He just wanted to sit a little bit closer, that's all. But then you looked up at him (and he'll die on the hill that you batted your lashes at him!) and he was nothing but a fool for you then. He doesn't know who leaned in first or who started what, but he certainly only had the mind to end it after it was too late to stop and he was balls deep.

A shudder wracks Gohan's body as he remembers the feeling of slipping inside of you. Even with a condom on, he could feel the heat and the wetness of your silky walls as they gripped his lonely shaft and sucked him in for as many inches as he had to give. And thank goodness he even had a condom on hand, all thanks to the people fundraising outside of the grocery store that included them in their donation goodie bag!

You were so sweet beneath him, so pliable and warm and perfect. He feels his cock stir in his pants, jumpy at the memory and unfortunately eager to experience such a lovely time again. Alas, you've been through quite a lot, and he shouldn't get his hopes up for anything like that.

You walking out on him last night already dashed his hopes anyway.

It wasn't exactly surprising to wake up alone, though it did sting all the same. You're just so amazing and kind and beautiful… Gohan would have to be a real piece of work not to see how special you are. Only a waste of space like your ex could be blind to everything that you are.

Gohan checks his phone for what feels like the thousandth time, no text message back from you. He's starting to worry now, which isn't good for his nails that he habitually bites when stressed. It'd probably do him well to go for a training session, but he also feels so frazzled as his blood races through his veins that training may not yield any productive results.

He pulls his glasses off and runs his large hands over his face, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes until he starts seeing stars. Blinking until the room clears, Gohan glances at his phone once again before standing with an indignant huff.

He's fine, all of this is fine. And fretting over nonsense won't make you text him back any faster. You need your space, and he's going to give it to you. No fussing required.

He does go make use of Vegeta's gravity room, though when the Saiyan himself shows up and he's left in the face of a full-blooded, battle-hungry Saiyan, he can't help but think that perhaps he should've stayed home.

At least he's not stuck with Vegeta in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber like Trunks was.

Gohan's text message remains unanswered, haunting you as you cook yourself dinner. You'll have to face him eventually, and soon, but what do you say? 'Thanks for the sex, it was great!'? No! Do you ignore it??

Do you have a choice?

Hooking up again isn't an option. Pursuing something more with him, something romantic and fulfilling, definitely isn't either. He's been a wonderful help to you and for absolutely nothing at all in return; you don't have any extra money to pay him anyway. The kindness of Gohan's heart isn't even something you can repay, not after what you've done to him. A sour feeling crosses your mouth, your appetite fading as your mind races.

He's a good man. Too good for where you're at in life, and there's always some kind of catch with nice guys. It's too risky, all of it. Will he demand more sex for more of his help, now that he's already gotten it once? You need his assistance to whittle down the medical bills— his stubborn insistence with insurance and the hospital itself is astounding, and runs deeper than anyone else you know. Left to your own devices, you'd have given up a long time ago.

He's not like that. The reminder scolds your terrible line of thinking. Gohan would never leverage your quality of life at all, let alone with the ultimatum of sex. He's not your ex, he's not a bad person in the slightest.

But you didn't know your ex was your ex at first either.

Your plate of eggs and toast nearly run cold by the time you've found it in you to send a response. Typing and erasing it several times over, you finally end up with a passable response message over twelve hours since his text to you in the first place.

I'm alright, thank you. Would you mind sending the copy of my résumé? I forgot to download it onto my laptop.

You are such a dick.

But the job applications are just sitting pretty without it right now, and you can't afford not to include the carefully-crafted résumé Gohan spent so much time on. He made it for you, it's literally yours, and the shitty little paycheck you got just a few days ago is already about gone. You're cold, and it'll surely throw him for a loop at minimum, but it's the best way to protect yourself.

"Chase a check, never chase a bitch." You murmur the cold lyric to yourself and bite into your dinner, waiting for Gohan's timely response. He's a busy man with a career of his own, but he always messages you back in mere minutes. He's a great multitasker like that, and you certainly aspire to be as efficient as he is.

Though you begin to doubt things when hours pass and there's no response. Ice slowly frosts your veins with every further minute that Gohan doesn't respond with your résumé; surely there's a good reason? He wouldn't have thrown it out or be the type to withhold it— your friend would never associate themselves with Gohan if he was like that, much less connect the two of you if he were the sort of man to manipulate things in such a way.

But the cold, paranoid dread doesn't let up even in the morning. Your phone has no notifications at all, and you even check the chat to make sure the message is sent. It has, and he's seen it.

Anger bubbling beneath the surface of your chest is overshadowed by the trembling of your bottom lip. How foolish could you be?? If there was ever going to be a hookup, you could've at least waited for your shit to be in order! Now it's all lost and you're on your own again, left to navigate debt that's threatening to swallow you whole and job-hunt in a market that doesn't want you.

Your mother's gone for work already as you begin your routine; your scheduled shift at work is a short one and not for several more hours, but to sit around and do nothing in the meantime will only spell certain doom. If you're given too much time to think, lord only knows what sort of outburst or meltdown you'll have. You're fresh out of the shower and part way through brushing your teeth when the doorbell rings, confusion etched to your features. You're not expecting anyone, though perhaps your mother has a package that needs signing for? Dropping your head, you quickly spit and rinse with mouthwash before jogging to open the door.

On the other side stands a damp man with crooked glasses, a dazed look in his eye and all the anger in you fizzles out. He's here. And the look on your face must scare him with the way his lip nearly trembles when he speaks.

“I am— I— Sorry!” Gohan stumbles over his words and you sigh softly as the trickle of relief siphons through the rest of your body. Gesturing him further in, Gohan slips off his shoes and hands over a folder.

“I got busy with my uncle,” Busy being a bit of an understatement; the moment Vegeta caught Gohan with his phone as he was reading your message and forced him right back into the gravity room for another training binge. “And I went as fast as I could to get this to you. I am so sorry about this.”

Your eyes soften and you carefully wipe a few suds from his hair. “I appreciate it… But you could've finished your shower first.”

Gazing up as if he can see the soap in his hair, Gohan’s cheeks redden as he laughs nervously. “Uh… S-Sorry.”

Reluctantly dropping your hand once you've fixed his glasses, you open the folder to find a physical copy of your résumé alongside a flash drive that presumably has another copy downloaded onto it. “Thank you.”

Sticking his hands in his pockets, Gohan bites his lip. “Um… Can we talk for a second?”

“A-About what?”

Oh no.

“I… Think you have an idea.” Gohan says softly. He can't leave it behind or anything unsaid; one night stands aren't his thing. “Listen… What happened between us was…”

“Sex. It was just sex.” You murmur, setting the folder down on the coffee table. “People have sex all the time… It happens.”

Hurt penetrates Gohan's chest. He knew you were jaded, knows exactly why and he does understand… It doesn't mean it can't hurt him. He likes you, appreciates your mind and admires your strength in a way that may have a bit to do with his Saiyan heritage. “Sure… Other people do that. But I don't. And… And for me, I…”

Tears start to well in your eyes. This man, this wonderful, caring, smart and lovely man is about to cross that line, isn't he? The one that can't be crossed again, the one that's going to end this friendship on a burned bridge and broken hearts. “Gohan, don't—”

“You're more than just a one night stand.” He says it anyway, taking your hands and holding them so warmly, protectively and securely. “To me, you are… Inspiring, and beautiful, and… And someone I really, really like. And that night was so great, and I was on top of the world until I woke up and you were gone.”

“I'm sorry.” You whisper, screwing your eyes shut tightly and ducking your head. You just can't stop messing up, can you? “It's not you, Gohan. You're a great man and there's a woman out there that will make you happy and take care of you.”

“The woman I want is right in front of me.” His hand comes to rest on your cheek, brushing away the salty tears that fall when you meet his gaze.

“Gohan… You don't want this. Do you know why I left that night?”

Gohan’s other hand comes to the other side of your face, cradling you like the daintiest china. “You had your reasons.”

Your hands come to his wrists, not tugging his touch away as you feel his warmth bloom within you, lighting you up in unfamiliar but pleasant ways, encouraging the leap of faith that your hopeful heart cries out for. “Because I get nightmares. Nightmares so bad that my momma has to come and wake me up almost every night and hold me to stop the panic attacks. I'm broken in so many ways Gohan…” Your lip trembles, and Gohan gently swipes his thumb just below the curve of it, mesmerized by every inch of you.

“If you only knew just how much I understand being broken…” Gohan whispers, his “eventful” childhood flashing through his mind from his kidnapping and all the way to his father's most recent death. “Then you would understand me more than anyone, and I’d get to understand you.”

“You don't want this.” You whisper again, and Gohan leans in for the softest, warmest kiss to your forehead. It clears the rain, just a bit, and you lean into it.

“Why are you so scared of loving me?” Gohan murmurs against your skin. “You've never said you don't want it… Me. Just that I won't want you, like you're a used car or something.”

You come to hide your face in his chest and he wraps you up tightly, his strong body anchoring you from your fears. “I'm afraid to get hurt again. When you didn't answer my message, I thought the worst of you! That you were some asshole that was only gonna help me if I kept sleeping with you! All because you didn't text me back. That's just the tip of the iceberg, Gohan!”

“Honey…” Gohan whispers, swaying gently as he holds you, one arm wrapped tightly around your middle while his other hand rests at the back of your head. “You’d know my heart if you knew your place. So come find yourself… I'll wait for you.”

The fog breaks, and your smile is brighter than a thousand suns and Gohan has never seen anything more breathtaking.

#son gohan x reader #son gohan x you #gohan x reader #gohan x you #dbz imagine #dbs imagine #fic #x reader #reader insert

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strwbrrykss · 2 years

Text

𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖐𝖙𝖔𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

Happy Spooky Month! Below the cut are the 31 prompts I’ll be using for my very first Kinktober! Thank you to everyone that has requested a character for these prompts to fill out the list, I hope you all enjoy this smutty buffet!!

All works are 1000-2000 words, with little to no plot - just straight up smut [by default these pieces will be f!reader but if there’s any that you want to see as afab! or gn!reader, let me know!]

all kinks + pairings were chosen by me; based entirely off what I felt comfortable writing. If anything from the below list makes you uncomfortable, I strongly advise you not to read it

ageless blogs // minors interacting with this post, or any of the linked posts, will be blocked

As and when each piece is posted, the title on this post will be pink to indicate the link has been added!

ALL CONTENT BELOW THE CUT IS 18+/NSFW. MINORS DNI. BY OPENING THE “READ MORE” YOU AGREE THAT YOU’RE OF AGE

Dry Humping - Eddie Munson

Sometimes you’re both just too tired to get completely down and dirty, but Eddie has a new approach to an old problem

Hide N Seek - Dean Winchester

It started as a stupid game, something to keep you entertained whilst exploring an abandoned mall with Dean. And transpired into much more.

Begging - Benedict Bridgerton

You both knew it was frowned upon to leave a party early, but sometimes, you just want to hear your husband beg for your attention behind closed doors.

Masturbation - JJ Maybank

After a day spent out on the water in your new swimwear, JJ just can’t help himself and takes matters into his own hands... Literally.

Daddy Kink - Kevin Atwater

It came about by pure chance in conversation, what he wanted you to call him, and now you say it almost as much as his real name.

Overstimulation - Bucky Barnes

There is nothing Bucky loves more than to push you over and over to the edge of release... Except for watching you fall apart when he finally lets you finish.

Praise Kink - Anthony Bridgerton

Despite thinking you knew Anthony better than most, there’s still one more thing you’re yet to learn about him and it’s... Surprising results.

Dacryphilia - Robert “BOB” Floyd

Sweet as he may be, Bob loves nothing more than to see your makeup streaked down your face and he has plenty of methods to make it happen.

Mirror Sex - Eddie Munson

Eddie wants to show you just how pretty you really are, especially when he’s rocking your shit for the fifth time that week.

Cockwarming - Jake “Hangman” Seresin

Sometimes, all he needs is to be as physically close to you as possible, and you’re all too willing to help him out.

Facesitting - Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw

There’s very little you haven’t tried with Bradley, even with your status currently undefined, there’s one thing he can’t stop thinking about.

Lingerie - Matt Casey

At the end of a stressful week for you both, you decide to surprise Matt with some new additions to your wardrobe.

Breeding - Nomad!Steve Rogers

You thought you’d seen the last of him after the fiasco with the Accords. Steve has other plans now that he’s no longer America’s Golden Boy

Threesome - Pornstar!Jay Halstead + Pornstar!Adam Ruzek

After you revealed that you’d always been interested - or at the very least curious - to try a threesome, Jay brings home the perfect solution; a costar.

Food Play - Derek Morgan

Trying to cook a nice meal for yours and Derek’s anniversary doesn’t exactly go as planned... And leaves more of a mess than either of you want to admit.

Car Sex - Adam Ruzek

Adam always looked forward to seeing you on his lunch break, but when you proposition him, he isn’t going to refuse.

Toys - Pornstar!Jay Halstead

Jay confesses he wants to try something new - something that he might be able to add to his - not exhaustive - resume, you’re all too happy to oblige.

Uniform Kink - Jake “Hangman” Seresin

There’s just something about seeing a man in uniform that makes your blood run hot. Jake is no exception to that rule, despite your rocky relationship.

Morning Sex - JJ Maybank

In the Summer following graduation, you and JJ spend your time one of three ways; surfing, smoking and fucking.

Phone Sex - Steve Harrington

A town-wide curfew puts a damper on your date plans with Steve, so you find other ways to spend some quality time together.

Unprotected Sex - Will Halstead

After a lengthy discussion over the course of several weeks, you and Will decide that it’s time to ditch the condoms.

Clothed Sex - Dean Winchester

The last thing you expected whilst Sam was out on a solo hunt was for tensions to break between you and Dean after all the pining, teasing and flirting.

Sensation Play - Connor Rhodes

Candles and ice cubes seemed like mundane things in your relationship with Connor, until he has an interesting suggestion one night.

Quickies - Lip Gallagher

A surprise visit from your boyfriend at work, prompts you to take your lunch break a little sooner.

Pegging - Connor Rhodes

When your “present” for Connor arrives earlier than expected, he’s more than eager to put it to use as soon as possible.

Thigh Riding - Sierra Six

You’re feeling particularly needy and Six knows exactly how you can get your fix and it’s no longer just a quiet night in.

Anywhere But The Bed - S1!Sam Winchester

A long weekend with Sam on a hunt turns out to be just the push you needed for the levee to break and hormones to run rampant.

Semi-Public Sex - Billy Hargrove

Billy just can’t wait to get his hands on you, regardless of the fact that you’re in no suitable place to meet his demands, he’s quick to find a way around it.

Hair Pulling - Dean Winchester

Who knew that just a playful tug on Dean’s hair could change the mood so drastically? You certainly didn’t and you wish you’d done it sooner.

Accidental Stimulation - Roommate!Luke Hemmings

Movie night was a Friday ritual for you and Luke, until one too many chance touches alters the dynamic between the two of you.

Pool Sex - John B Routledge

A sure-fire way to get petty, self-indulgent revenge on your Kook ex-boyfriend? Fuck John B in his pool when he’s not around.

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user-needs-new-hyperfixation · 10 months

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You seem to be the headcanon person of the fandom. How do you think Sherliam would handle a serious argument/disagreement? Idk like their arguing styles? Who apologizes/gives in first? Things like that.

First off, love the idea that I am the headcanon person haha!

One of the fic prompts I'm working on involves this idea, but in a fun and sexy kinda way, so lemme take a shot at it a little more seriously, though a fair amount of what I'm gonna say may pop up in that fic later. This in itself kind of devolved into borderline fic as I went...and then crackfic at the end lol. 😅

I have a headcanon that Sherlock has a lot of underlying anxiety during their early days in NYC: that he hasn't really had the opportunity to deal with his own trauma from watching someone he loves attempt suicide, risking his own life and being injured himself, and spending months not knowing if William would wake up.

I don't think they often have serious disagreements, but the first few times they do, because of that lingering anxiety and stress, I imagine Sherlock just immediately backs down when things start to get stressful. And he's stewing internally over all the comebacks and points he desperately wants to make, but it's not worth it when he's so terrified that any sincere conflict between them might push Liam back to a dark place.

But a couple of months go by after Vermissa, and Liam is more and more okay every day, and one day some sincere yet ultimately unimportant argument comes up: maybe something to do with preparing for a mission, or a disagreement about something in one of their academic journals. And they're snarking back and forth a little, but there's a bit of a sincere edge to it. Then Liam says something and instantly, the perfect sassy comeback is right on the tip of Sherlock's tongue, but he swallows it down and says something milder instead, and Liam is suddenly all laser eyed observation, frowning at him.

And then all the pieces click together in Liam's head, and he understands what's going on. And he stops to tell Sherlock in no uncertain terms that he is not as fragile as Sherlock seems to think, and that them being on equal footing is important to him, and that honestly he quite likes Sherlock's sharp wit even when it's directed at him, and enjoys returning in kind.

From then on even serious disagreements are handled with playful bickering and snarking. They have a good sense of each other's sensitivities and how to avoid them, and it's rare for either to go too far and cause any hurt, but when it does happen the one who did so is always quick to apologize. Basically they just think squabbling is a lot of fun.

Once, Billy witnesses them pick an entirely unnecessary and random fight with each other, both grinning and clearly having the time of their lives, and he throws up his hands and says,

"Y'know, it doesn't actually count as makeup sex if you start the fight just for the sex!"

#moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #sherliam #asks

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psychedelic-ink · 1 year

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4.5k?!?? darling, that is so, so incredible - sending you huge congratulations! you're such a wonderfully warm and kind presence here, and we thank you for the constant time, love and energy you devote to your amazing fics ❤️

i may be being greedy but you've had me by the throat for months, so - only if you're up for it, my sweet - maybe just a little something spicy with my bois dave and frankie? the prompt “Think you can handle that much?" really came out and slapped me across the face lmao, but please disregard if it's not feeling right.

forever loving you! congratulations again, angel!

THANK YOU SO MUCH LOVE!!! It means so much that you say this, and I'm happy to indulge in any kind of frankie x reader x dave goodness because honestly, I've been thinking about them a lot lately ❤️ (I think I got carried away a bit with this one. this is def not a drabble anymore svfdd)

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐖𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞

pairing: frankie morales x fem!reader x dave york

genre: smut, absolute filth, minors dni

word count: 2,4k (this is just filth y'all, start from finish. It's been a while since I wrote this long of a smut piece, the horny possessed me)

summary: you've been having a stressful time, Dave and Frankie provide an excellent way to comfort you.

warnings: dom/sub dynamics, mention of safe words, brattamer!dave, bratty!frankie & reader, double penetration, dirty talking, mlm dynamics, oral (giving), mild daddy kink, frankie has a big dick because why not, vaginal/anal fingering, bit of cum play, little bit emotion at the end, oh and reader doesn't understand Spanish

a/n: this can be seen as a part of the fic I wrote way before called wonderful tonight and this one does have very mild references to it (the nicknames mostly) but you can read this without reading that

𝑺𝑰𝑳'𝑺 4.5𝑲 𝑭𝑶𝑳𝑳𝑶𝑾𝑬𝑹 𝑴𝑰𝑵𝑰 𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑵𝑻 (open)

“Come on sweetheart, you can suck cock better than that—Can’t you?”

You have tears in your eyes. Frankie’s hand a constant presence at the back of your head, nails gently scratching your scalp. Your chin aches, spit, and precum dripping from the sides as you attempt to take more of him. Your nostrils flare, your eyes squeezed tight when you feel the head of his cock brushing the back of your throat.

Frankie moans at the way you gag around him, fingers sliding down to your neck, he squeezes.

“She’s doing just fine,” he says, the harsh snap of his words directed at Dave. “Her mouth is heaven on earth,”

“How can it be heaven when she can barely take it?”

A soft whine rattles your throat, your gaze flicking to meet his. He clicks his tongue and rubs your neck, shushing you. “You’re doing amazing, querida. Don’t mind him. He’s just jealous because he wants a taste for himself,”

“I’m trying to help,”

“Just sit there and enjoy the show,”

You hear Dave scoff, he had positioned himself right across from the bed where he has a side view of both you and Frankie. He has fingers wrapped around his cock, stroking himself leisurely, watching you both with a critical eye. He swipes his palm over the fat head of his cock, coating his length with precum.

Some childish part of you wants to turn and stick your tongue out at him, but despite your simmering annoyance, his words make you feel embarrassingly hot. Each time he opens his mouth, speaks to you in with that deep voice of his, you feel it resonating in your core.

Frankie’s words pull you out of your thoughts, “You take it so well, don’t stop. Please.”

And those words send a different kind of wave of pleasure over your worn-out body. You’re getting whiplash between the praise and the degradation. You’re starting to think that this has been their plan from the start. You have been stressed lately, not enjoying things like you used to. They must’ve noticed. Between the lovely dinner and now this, surely they had. Of course, they did. They were both observant as fuck, both a blessing and a curse.

Frankie’s moans become louder, the most sinful noises you ever heard. It’s loud, deep, and it prompts you to take more of him. A tear escapes your eye when the tip of his cock slides down your throat, you continually swallow, hallowing out your cheeks as you desperately try to suppress your gag reflex.

“Oh god baby, you’re going to make me come like that—” he trails off in Spanish, words quickly whispered into the air. He looks down at you with eager eyes and you answer him with a confused gaze. It takes him a moment to realize you didn’t understand him.

You hear soft steps approaching. A sound that is made deliberately to excite you more, which works. Dave grabs Frankie’s chin, lifting the other man’s gaze to meet his own. A whine slips from Frankie’s swollen lips, Drave grins, his next words directed at you.

“He wants you to use your tongue more sweetheart, swirl it around,”

You make a gurgled sound that is supposed to mean oh. Pulling your mouth up, you swirl your tongue, wrapping your lips tighter. Frankie’s groan echoes, lips parted wide as his eyes roll back with Dave still holding his chin up. Your pussy clenches, slick dripping down your thighs.

“Sweet boy,” Dave hums. “Where’s that attitude now, huh? Now, who was it that wanted a taste?”

You notice Dave’s hips thrusting into his fist, and your mouth waters. Distracted, you pull your mouth away, starting to adorn the side of Frankie’s cock with wet kisses. Dave’s smile widens into a grin when he notices Frankie’s eyes dropping to his lips.

“Tell me what you want,” he coos, fisting his cock faster. “Does my sweet boy want a kiss from daddy?”

“Can I have a kiss from daddy?” you chime in, lips brushing the tip of Frankie’s cock. You smile when you hear him whimper.

“Oh,” Dave answers, looking down at you but fingers still hooked under Frankie’s chin. “You’ll be receiving more than kisses as soon as daddy number two relents, princess.”

He chuckles at your pout, Frankie groans, cock twitching against your wet lips. Dave’s hand moves to the base of his cock and squeezes, a soft grunt escaping his throat.

“Think of it like this,” he continues. “The sooner he begs for release—and a kiss— the sooner you’ll have us both filling you up.”

Your gaze moves to Franke who is nowhere near gazing at you back. His focus is slowly fixated on Dave, his jaw tense and eyes narrowed. Without pulling away your gaze, you blow a puff of air across his cock and watch him wince, his chest heaves.

“Promise me first,” you say to Dave.

He grins, “Promise.”

You’re pretty sure you shock them both with the way you dive back in, tongue and mouth moving with fervor as you attempt to push Frankie to the brink of orgasm. His cock throbs heavily on your tongue, he bites back his mouth, teeth clenched tight together. Dave touches Frankie’s hand that was still nestled at the back of your head and pulls the pilot’s hand to his own cock. You moan around Frankie’s length when he starts to stroke Dave’s cock, his movements hesitant and a bit shaky. You like to think it’s because of you.

“Come on,” Dave teases, his jaw slack with the corner of his lips tilted up. “All you have to say is ‘please kiss me Dave’ and that’s all, and I will. Just say the words,”

“P-Please,” Frankie swallows, his cock twitching. You flatten your tongue, pressing it snugly underneath. His eyes momentarily drops to you and he swallows again, a loud gulp heard between the three bodies.

He mutters in Spanish again and Dave shakes his head, clicking his tongue with annoyance.

“English,” he warns. “She’s been working hard, she deserves to understand your begging,”

“Fine,” Frankie growls, voice raising. “Please kiss me, Dave.”

“Good boy,”

“Shut up.”

Dave lets out a huff but he’s smiling, “Such a sour loser,”

You start to stroke Frankie’s cock, the mixture of spit and precum providing a smooth glide. You watch the two with intrigue; Dave leans down, capturing Frankie’s lips in a heated kiss. Dave thrusts into Frankie’s still hand, soft groans filling the empty space in between. A fat bead of precum appears at the tip of Frankie’s cock, you swipe it almost immediately with your tongue.

Much to your surprise, Frankie is the one to part away first, a string of saliva still connecting them both. Dave’s lips are red and kiss swollen, it takes you everything not to pull him down, your lips left tingling. Frankie gestures towards you with a tilt of his head, Dave’s eyes following.

“I think our princess also deserves her reward,” Frankie smiles, he swipes a drop of Dave’s precum and brings it to your mouth. You wrap your lips around his finger hungrily, swirling your tongue around the digit. He purrs, “Always so eager to have us.”

“Please…” you beg, rubbing your legs together. “I’ve been good haven’t I?”

“You have been sweetheart,” Dave helps you up the bed, his wet lips chasing yours. “We’re going to take good care of you.”

Frankie positions himself underneath you while Dave pushes himself to sit on his heels right behind you. His hands follow the curve of your ass, pinching it playfully.

“Such a great view.”

Frankie cradles your face, thumbs moving in unison around your cheekbones. You spot the bullseye tattoo on his hand and give it a soft kiss. He smiles. Frankie knows where this is going and is always eager to provide comfort, even if it means denying himself.

“Think you can handle that much?" he chokes out, his voice cracking.

“Of course, she can,” Dave tuts. “She'll do ever what she can to make her daddies happy, isn't that right sweetheart?”

You nod, head falling into the warmth of Frankie’s neck. You feel his hands rubbing soothing lines up and down your back.

“Please,” you mutter into his skin.

Dave briefly leaves you both to get the lube that was left forgotten in the bathroom. Frankie takes this opportunity to kiss you, his lips moving lazily, licking the inside of your mouth. He slips two fingers into your fluttering cunt. He spreads his fingers, thrusting them to see if you can actually take him.

“Good,” he breathes into your mouth, staring at you with dilated pupils. “You’re so wet, bonita. Did you touch yourself with my dick in your mouth?”

You shake your head, which prompts him to suck a deep, sharp breath. “Fuck, that’s even hotter. You’re going to give me a heart attack,”

“No heart attacks!” Dave calls out, stepping into the room. “Not before we satisfy our lady.”

Frankie snorts, head falling back, “I wouldn’t have dreamed of it.”

You hear the squeeze of a bottle and soon after you feel Dave’s wet, cold, sticky fingers breach your asshole. You jerk away with your breath caught in your throat. Frankie’s lips brush your forehead.

“We don’t have to,” Dave says, his voice briefly returning to normal. “Color?”

“Green— I want to. I was just surprised by the cold,”

“It’ll be warm soon enough.”

The soft sound of Dave’s chuckle eases your rigid body, you feel your muscles relax with his touch. While Dave works you open —the feeling not completely unfamiliar but still foreign— Frankie distracts you by claiming your mouth again and again. He licks the seam of your lips, his hands squeezing every inch of you as he sucks your tongue into his mouth. The moans you make are obscene.

Soon you’re grinding yourself down on Frankie’s length, soaking him as you feel Dave curling his fingers, knuckle deep. You gasp away from Frankie, back arching beautifully. Your brain struggled to think of where to seek pleasure first, Frankie’s cock or Dave’s fingers. The uncertainty makes you cry out.

“Shhh, It’s okay. We got you,” Frankie soothes you. “I’m going to push in now, okay?”

You nod tearfully, crying out once more when you feel his cock pressing into you inch by inch. Dave’s fingers are still inside. Frankie whispers praise until sinks his cock fully into you. The air is punched from your lungs, your breathing uneven and heart beating fast.

“So warm,” he chokes out, nipping your chin. He stares at Dave from above your shoulder. “Is she good?”

“Very,” Dave replies with a smirk.

You hiss when the tip of Dave’s cock breaches the tight muscle, pushing in slowly, delicately. His blunt nails bite into your skin, his breathing coming out forced as he makes his way in. You feel the press of his lips on your spine, then to your nape. You shudder. Both of them combined overwhelm all your senses.

“I can feel you through her,” Dave grits out, cock throbbing. “God, so perfect, our perfect girl.”

You keen at the praise, your cunt squeezes around Frankie’s cock, a moan rips from his throat.

“I need to move, can I? Please—”

Frankie desperately nudges his face between your chin and neck, laying eager kisses all over your skin. You moan out your approval, both men twitching deep inside you.

Frankie, being edged for a while now, fucks into you with an indescribable need. He knows what he wants, and he wants it now. He bites wherever his lips can reach, he pulls your bottom lip between his teeth, licks the inside of your mouth. Meanwhile, Dave takes his time, leisurely thrusting his hips, watching you both collectively tumble down the edge of pleasure.

The corners of your vision go dark and you close your eyes, the contrast of the two men burning you from the inside out. You cry out both of their names, completely surrendering yourself to them both. Franki snaps his hips upward, urging you to open your eyes. When you do you see him moaning with an open mouth, Dave’s hand tugging on his hair (when did that happen?) with a comforting smile you lean and press your mouth into the corner of his lips.

“I’m gonna come,” Frankie slurs, squeezing at your hips. “Oh fuck—Fuckfuckfuck—”

“Not yet,” Dave growls, his own movements losing their stability. “You two come together, ‘want to feel it,”

“Daveee,” you whine, your inside pulsing. “Can’t we just—”

“No,” he snaps as he grazes his nails down your back. “Together.”

Frankie looks up at you with wide, desperate eyes. He moans before he starts to beg, he knows what gets you going, he knows you can’t say no to him.

“Please baby, please please please—” he whispers frantically. “I’m so close. You feel me, don’t you? Feel the way my cock is throbbing? I need you to come too. Tell me you’re close. We don’t want to disappoint him,”

“N–No,” you answer, voice and thighs shaking. “I don’t want to disappoint him,”

“Are you close?”

“Yes.”

It all happens so fast. You feel Frankie spilling into you, your own orgasm crashing into you a second later. Dave’s moans echo behind you, slamming his hips into you as he chants both your names. You collapse into Frankie’s chest, breathing heavily, he continues to come. He kisses your head, cheeks, nose, and lastly lips. No hunger under the soft gesture, only love, and adoration.

Dave pulls out, fucking his fist over your ass while letting out lewd groans of his own. You tremble at the feeling of something warm splashing against your back, your ass raising into the air of its own accord. His fingers delve in, spreading himself over your skin.

“You two are ridiculously good,” he says. “God, I’m lucky,”

He’s sad. You hear it in his voice. Thankfully you’re not the only one because Frankie pulls him down, placing Dave in the middle of the two you. Frankie somehow manages to wrap his arms around you both.

“We’re the lucky ones,” you whisper into his skin. “You always take such good care of us.”

He lets out a content sigh.

Content for now, your mind nastily whispers. You ignore it.

You all carry a hint of sadness, that was what made these moments even more special.

Frankie’s lips find Dave’s forehead, and you, the top of his spine.

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x you #dave york x reader #dave york x you #dave york x f!reader #frankie x reader x dave #dave york imagine #frankie catfish morales #dave york x female reader #triple frontier fan fiction #triple frontier fic #the equalizer 2 fic #4.5k baby #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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batsupes-community · 1 year

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Omega Superman 2024

Greetings! Welcome to the Year of Bottom Clark 2024.

This blog is dedicated to Bottom Superman from all DC universes. That includes the DCAU, DCEU, Comics, and Elseworlds! Whether you ship him platonically or romantically with another character,, we welcome you to join our event! Please read the event’s rules before you join, much appreciated! You'll find them below.

We’ve also got a server. If you’re interested just message to this blog and we’ll answer your questions and then get you an invite. When does the event take place? It begins January 1, 2024 and ends on December 31, 2024.

Where might I find the prompts? You can find the prompts right here.

Which universes are allowed? American Alien, Crime Syndicate, DCAU, DCEU, Elseworlds (e.g. Distant Fires), Injustice, Justice Lords, New 52, Post Crisis, Rebirth, Young Justice, etc. Wikipedia mentions other Superman universes.

How Can I Join? That’s easy! Once you’ve had a gander at the prompts you can then create content to be posted on the day’s you’ve set your sights on. There happens to be three different prompts for each of the 365-366 days of the year. You may choose only one, but you’re more than welcome to do all three. That is entirely up to you. Furthermore, you really don’t have to join for each day. That’d be way too much, but kudos to you if you somehow manage it. Still, this is just for fun, so no stress, no rush, and please enjoy yourself!

RULES 01. All fanwork types are acceptable. This includes not only fanfiction and fanart, but also gifs, graphics, fanvideos, speed paints, podcasts, meta, essays, sims recordings, and cosplay. All works however must be finished. Please do not post sketches or drafts, thank you!

02. Use warnings correctly. Please do tag your kinks and themes which could make others uncomfortable.

03. Please tag all entries as “omegasuperman2024” within the first 3 tags so that we can track the tag and see your posts.

04. Late entries are acceptable. We will check up to a month for anything late. Should we miss an entry, feel free to inform us so that we can reblog it. We will also have a collection on AO3.

05. You do not by any means have to create something for every day. This is supposed to be fun, not stressful. Only create for the prompts that resonate with you the most. You could choose to do one prompt a week, or one prompt a month, etc. Or you could choose a single week in the entire year to concentrate on. It’s all up to you. We’re happy just as long as you’re having fun!

06. Side ships and side characters are welcome. However, focus must be mainly on Superman. 07. Fem!Superman and Non-Binary Superman is more than welcome! We’d love to see your version of Superman. Be they female, non-binary, human, kryptonian, or some other iteration.

08. Any iteration of Superman is welcome. Clark Kent, Jon Kent, Calvin Ellis, Kong Kenan, Sunshine Superman, Ultraman, Val-Zod, Kal Kent, etc.

09. We have zero tolerance for ship bashing. Please note that this blog is a safe place for shippers.

10. Be respectful to the participants. Everyone is here to have fun, ergo hate of any sort is prohibited. Note: We will be adding alternate prompts so if you have any ideas feel free to send them in. There will also be 31 Free Days where you can write/draw/etc whatever you want if it's not available as a prompt already.

#Batsupes #Superbat #Omegaverse #Omega #Bruce Wayne/Clark Kent #Omega Superman

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eilinelsghost · 13 days

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20 questions for fic writers

Thanks very much to @sallysavestheday and @thelordofgifs for the tag! I don't think I've ever done this one before, so let's give this a try.

1. How many works do you have on Ao3? 27

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? 164,434

3. What fandoms do you write for? Only the Silmarillion

4. What are your top five fics by kudos? - Atandil (part 1 of the series by the same name) - Atanatárissë - Grief in All Her Guises (Atandil part 2) - In Memory Untarnished (Atandil part 8) - Ye Shall Render Blood (Atandil part 4).

5. Do you respond to comments? Yep! I think I have responded to all of them, but I'm sorry if one fell through the cracks there. Comments are honestly a huge part of what keeps me writing and I want to make sure they know I've seen and appreciate them.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Probably In These Holy Waters? Though I got a lot of screaming in the comments on A Heady Fragrance of Honey also, so I'll drop that in as an honorable mention.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Feeling convicted about how hard this is to find a happy one lol. I think probably By Any Other Name, which was a little Finrod/Bëor fluff piece I wrote for @actual-bill-potts last year.

8. Do you get hate on fics? Not so far. Or wait, maybe? There was a weird anon about one of the sentence prompt ficlets on here awhile back where Bëor was having a lot of intentional "accidental-innuendos," but I don't think I'll dignify that by calling it fic hate.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? I wrote two (here and here since they're posted anon), but not sure if I'll try my hand at that again or not. It was really a really helpful exercise to work past a lot of baggage I still had from growing up in a very conservative family where shame was the prevailing attitude toward anything related to sex. But I don't know that I'll write more - it's very out of my comfort zone 😂

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? I'm not sure what a crossover is, so that probably means no?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes! One of the aforementioned smut pieces was just translated a couple months ago.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Not so far, but @actual-bill-potts and I periodically joke about co-writing a modern Finrod/Bëor AU so who knows what might happen :)

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? Surprising no one but myself (I was initially a hater and reread the Athrabeth to prove to myself it was impossible...and came out of that with a series that's 135k and counting), it's Finrod/Bëor.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Probably this Dior Eluchíl idea. I'm very attached to it, but I think I may have permanently stalled on it.

16. What are your writing strengths? Worldbuilding and dialogue, I think? But I'm horrible at listing strengths (looking at you dreaded resume process), so it may be something entirely different. These are the ones I feel most confident about, at least.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Humor, believable flirtation, battles, politics, trade strategies etc etc etc

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I do this occasionally in Atandil, but I tend to like it less for full dialogue and more for passing words - if Balan is hearing Finrod say something to another Elf in order to stress the otherness, or if they each fall back on words in their own tongue when not finding the right one in the other's. I think full dialogue would be a struggle for me.

19. First fandom you wrote for? Silm - first and only!

20. Favourite fic you’ve written? Oh god. Uh. I do not know. I'm particularly fond of Darkly the Sundering Flood - one of the few I was genuinely pleased with from the get- go (normally I have a 1-2 week hate period after I post anything). But And Still the Light Returns is also a top contender from Atandil because I really enjoyed exploring the parent-child dynamics between Balan and both his sons. Also because of the duck story. I dearly love the duck story.

Thanks so much for the tag! I've been out on a work trip for the last week and not on Tumblr much, so I have no idea who has been tagged in this so far...just ignore this if you've already had one. 😂 Tagging @that-angry-noldo, @searchingforserendipity25, @outofangband, @melestasflight, and anyone else who would like to join in!

#my fic #tumblr games

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ts-witchy-archive · 4 months

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hi sweet! i was wondering, if you're comfortable, would you ever consider making a post or replying privately on how your audition process was like (for example, preparation, panel, etc)? i have an idea which school it is (is it j? 🤭) and missed the deadline this year, but am excited to try applying next year ☺️💕 please totally feel free to disregard if it's too much! thank you so much and hope you have a lovely week! 🌷💖🫶🏻

Hi friend!

Honestly I'd love to talk about the audition process because it was so unique and interesting. Although, J isn't the school i'm going to next year but never the less, I hope you find this helpful! I got callbacks for two out two schools that I auditioned for so I'll run through what happened in both because they were super different experiences. (also I'd like to apologise because this post is so long. so so so long. Like 2000 words. So I won't be offended if you don't read it all). And feel free to DM me at any time if you have questions or just want to talk acting stuff!

For reference, I'll call the school I got into 'Blue' and the other school I was rejected from 'Red'.

Very Quick Summary:

Round 1:

2 monologues videos or 1 monologue and a movement exercise uploaded to YT, personal statement video uploaded to YT, resume, headshot (professional not needed), audition form submitted to the university website.

Round 2 Red School:

In personal audition with improv games/activities (1 hour), questions with interviews and a cold read (1 hour), perform 2 monologues in front of the full judging panel and 30 other people.

Round 2 Blue School:

Perform your monologues in a screen test and for an audition panel

Preparation

So the first audition for both schools were the online auditions, questionnaires, personal statements and resume. A simple youtube video (or 3) would be uploaded with the URLs attached to audition form which also contained the questions. I also needed a 'resume' which had my training, experience and a headshot. The second phase were the callbacks. I had 1 zoom call back and 1 IRL callback.

Personally I started preparation about 3 months before the first submission date. I read through the handbook and online resources and made a list of everything I needed to do before submitting. I really recommend starting prep 3 months out purely because you'll be less stressed later. If you have an acting coach, acting teacher, drama teacher, etc. start talking to them at this point. I didn't but watching YouTube acting tip videos was how I kinda supplemented that. Learning from others is the best thing you can do. Join acting facebook/tumblr/instagram/discord pages.

Choosing pieces that work well with how you audition is so important. This sounds obvious because it kind of is but don't pick something that was made for TV unless you can convert it to stage. While you may be auditioning for a screen acting degree (or at least I was) you won't have the closeness of that camera to get your emotions across so it's important to understand how to translate those fine details across. You also need your pieces to contrast really well. I had to chose 2 monologues for one audition and 1 and a prompted movement exercise for the other. I tried to do something a bit different so I went for a 'comedy' piece (it was labelled comedy but it just ended up being sad lmao) and an Anton Chekov piece

YouTube and Preliminary Auditions

What was so amazing about the YouTube auditions was that I could search the schools I wanted to get into and stalk other people's submissions. I cannot recommend doing this enough! You learn so much from seeing other people audition. From watching those videos I mostly learned what not to do (which sounds a little mean to say but that wasn't the intention). Take notes on what you like and dislike about everyone's performances then apply those to your own.

I really recommend giving yourself at least 3 hours to film for each school. I know that sounds like so much time but it's better to have extra time than to run out of time. Personally, I was super unprepared and it took me 5 hours to film for the Red school. They had us do a 2 minute introduction and it had like 6 questions. I really struggled to get my point across in such little time while still coming across competent and confidant.

I had to do a prompted movement excise for the Red school as well. This was a little intimidating because the prompt was 'You walk into a room, find an object, then leave the room in a different emotional state' (or something like that). I love having complete creative freedom but also it felt like they would judge me more harshly if I did something 'lame' or predictable. I also had to make sure it contrasted with my monologue. It was a whole stressful thing.

Callbacks!

Red School: In Person Auditions!

This was one of the most exciting things i've ever done in my entire life haha. I wasn't able to take drama in year 11 and 12 so it had been 3 years since I had been in this type of creative space and I truly didn't realise how much I missed it until I walked into that audition space. All eyes are on you from the second you walk in and so it's important you show who you are straight away. For me this meant a lot of mental prep before going into the audition. I'm a very introverted person who isn't great with meeting new people and is pretty socially awkward so I had to force myself to skip that awkward stage. I love being an introvert but that combined with my resting bitch face, visible neurodivergent traits, etc I really had to go out of my way to show that I was excited, kind, funny, bubbly, collaborative and more. I truly think that was the hardest part of the whole audition.

As for what was included, the in person audition was made up of a large group of about 25-30 people which was then split into two smaller groups. In those groups we had improvisation, cold reads, an interview, monologue performances and question time. For the improv it was largely your basic drama games, nothing too crazy. Something I didn't do but I wish I did was google improv games and think about what I might do in these situations. We did these for about an hour, it was a lot of fun and very stress free. After we had a small break and question time. There were 2 current first year students who volunteered to help out, they were the people who answered our questions. While question time was happening people would be called into a room with one of the panel judges to do an interview and cold read. This was where I mainly think I fucked up my audition!

SO firstly, I'm a wee bit dyslexic (read as 'very dyslexic') and the judge new that but it just meant that I sucked at the cold read because I was concentrating too hard on reading. I kinda forgot she was there lol. But that wasn't the bad part. The bad part was the interview. The judge started by asking how I handled COVID. and I was like "ummm not very well at all lol". Naturally, she asked why, I explained why in the vaguest, least trauma dumpy way possible. HOWEVER, then she decided to ask me something along the lines of, "you seem like a very anxious person. Why are you going into a profession with so much rejection??". So ummm, I was kinda left speechless hahaha. All I could respond with was 'I've been rejected plenty of times before' which is, fine but not a good answer. Anyways, moral of the story, prepare really well for an interview. Take control of the interview and don't accidentally borderline trauma dump on your Judge.

Monologues! This was fun. We each had to perform 2 monologues. It took about 2 hours to get through everyone but it wasn't really boring at all. Everyone was so talented and amazing. There really isn't a whole lot to say tbh. They were monologues. The judges would try and redirect you after you finished (or half way through) your monologue to see how well you respond to direction and criticism. I really recommend trying to do your monologues in as many stupid styles as possible! It's great because A) you'll better understand the choices you make and why and B) it's so fun.

Blue School: Zoom Auditions

Blue school has been my top school since I decided to go to acting school a few years ago so to say I was a nervous wreck was an understatement. There were 2 parts to the audition, the screen test and the regular audition. The screen test lasted about 10 mins and is just to see how you looked performing with TV in mind. The audition panel is just that, your standard audition panel.

Now this whole thing was a cluster fuck. I was in the screen test for literally less than 2 minutes and was kicked from the meeting. It was 'technical difficulties' allegedly however, my best friend also had a callback for the next day and the same thing happened. Zoom said that the host kicked me from the meeting and not that it was disconnected so I personally think they did that to us to see how we handled the stress. For me, this actually saved my whole audition. It gave me a few minutes to calm down, have some water and ground myself. I have no idea if this is a common tactic or not but just be aware that a school might to do this.

I had the audition panel straight after and they apologised for the tech mess up, answered any of my questions and we did our thing. They asked me to perform my Anton Chekhov monologue (Irina from the 3 sisters. Her monologue from the first act). I didn't quite get what they were asking me to do at first. They kept prompting me to pretend that I was saying it to my best friend but it kept getting more dramatic because... well I'm super dramatic when I'm really passionate about something but turns out they wanted realism hahaha. The second prompt they gave me which made me realise they wanted realism was "you're saying this to your best friend who's in hospital". My best friend and platonic partner is actually chronically ill so this hit a little close to home. They're like never in hospital but it was still a bit... ouchie lol. At least the prompt wasn't boring?? The judges seemed to really love my take on that prompted, we had a whole conversation about what I did differently, etc. Then I was sent on my way!

Screen test part two was only slightly less stressful than part one. I tried to join the meeting with the new link they sent out, no one was there, I got the old link up on my laptop (whereas i was using my mum's PC) incase they were still using the old link. They were still using the old link and I almost missed my screen test (again lol). They wanted to see my 'comedy' monologue but they gave me prompt of "you're filming a video diary and you never want anyone to know that you have a crush on [the character], you haven't even really accepted it." for some reason that made me weirdly emotional lol. I completely forgot my lines about half way through when I really started to get emotional (the character talks a lot about her insecurities). The judges said that sometimes that can happen when you "unlock" a new level of emotion in a piece. I guess that's what they wanted to see because I got in! I really thought I had completely fucked it up. Moral of the story, even if you do something stupid, forget your lines, almost miss your audition and don't understand what the judges want from you the first time, it'll still be okay. If it's meant to be, it's meant to be.

Okay! I'm done. I'm so sorry for the word length of this and the fact it took me so long to reply! again, feel free to DM me if you ever have any questions, want to talk about acting or hell, even if you're bored and just want to chat. I hope this some what helped

#acting #answered

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autumnslance · 2 years

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LynMars’s FFXIV Write 2022 Master Post

Writings completed for this year’s daily challenge. As usual any of my ship-related content is marked with an asterisk (*) to seek or avoid as needed.

The goal this year was to write less than I have in previous years; to allow myself shorter scenes and not push myself on free days. To actually relax, have fun, and not stress about writing “enough”. To make my prose just as long as it needed to be.

Overall, I succeeded in said goals.

Breakdowns and commentary under the cut for those interested!

1. Cross - Two travelers’ journey over time & adventuring together. 2. Bolt - Iyna doing her duty as a rebel versus the Empire. 3. Temper - Midgardsormr keeps a promise to forge a hero. 4. Free Day! 5. Cutting Corners - Dark Autumn after a company officer meeting. 6. Onerous - Thancred & the Immortal Flames, post-Ifrit. 7. Pawn - Emelia obtains passage for her family to Thavnair. 8. Tepid - Zaine realizing he doesn’t belong with the Radiant Host. 9. Yawn - Aeryn escaping the Bloody Banquet through the tunnel. 10. Channel - C’oretta’s thought processes. 11. Free Day! 12. Miss the Boat - Urianger, Moenbryda, and regrets. 13. Confluence - Venat tracing the flow of fate. 14. Attrition - Ser Ompagne has a brief theological discussion. 15. Row - Dark versus a certain baby behemoth. 16. Deiform - Dark, Aeryn, Iyna, & C’oretta in Delubrum Reginae. 17. Novel* - Aeryn, Thancred, & a borrowed book over time. 18. Free Day - Memory* - Aeryn & Thancred discuss his possession. 19. Turn a Blind Eye - Lahabrea contemplates his mistakes. 20. Anon - Ryne learning two opposing definitions of the word. 21. Solution - 2 Azems discuss the plans for the Final Days. 22. Veracity - In a possible future, Iyna ensures history’s truth. 23. Pitch* - Thancred knows how to distract Aeryn when necessary. 24. Vicissitudes - Ascian viewpoints on their stolen mortal bodies. 25. Free Day! 26. Break a Leg - Iyna & C’oretta help the dancers at a recital. 27. Hail - An Estinien PoV of the final fight in the Aitiascope. 28. Vainglory - The Warrior of Light isn’t what Jullus expected. 29. Fuse - Tanzel thinks of ways to handle his stepchild’s temper. 30. Sojourn - A family of travelers, in 1 lifetime & perspective.

Totals: 18,813 words.

A bit more than my 2018 (around 16k), less than my 2019 (21.4K), and way less than 2020 and 2021. I was realistic about my time and energy, asked myself what is the core idea or scene I really want to get across, and any spot-editing was for tightening wording and phrases. I feel like it got harder to keep writing shorter as the month went on and my focus slipped--and I really got into a writing groove!

I could have definitely gone on longer for some of these, and do have other scene ideas and notes in the drafts. But for the 24 hour challenge I tried to keep them short, though they’re each as long as they need to be.

I did mean to put out old WIPs again on free days, but that time/energy factor combined with busy weekends, so I took them off. "Memory" actually came out of "Yawn" and was plinked at over the week before it went up for the 18th.

Only a couple wolcred fics this year; got in a good mix of NPCs and OCs, with Iyna taking a bit more of a POV spotlight in the non-Aeryn-focused stories, though all the girls got at least one. More Ancients and Ascians than I generally go with, though still made sure some favorite Scions got in there. And a bit more of Aeryn's family and backstory, as getting Thavnair finally has put that forefront in my brain.

I was hoping something would spark an idea for an Avengret chapter I feel is "missing" but I may have to resign myself to the fact that chapter doesn't want to be written as I continue revising last year's unexpected longfic. Thankfully this year's prompts were all standalones.

More Breakdowns:

Longest: 17 Novel, 2073. Shortest: 15 Row, 220.

Between 1500 - 2000: 24 Vicissitudes (1522), 29 Fuse (1678) Between 1000 - 1499: 18 Memory (1034) Between 500 - 999: 3 Temper (537), 8 Tepid (500), 10 Channel (586), 12 Miss the Boat (824), 13 Confluence (702), 14 Attrition (683), 20 Anon (839), 21 Solution (532), 22 Veracity (857), 28 Vainglory (864), 30 Sojourn (989) Between 200 - 499: 1 Cross (386), 2 Bolt (299), 5 Cutting Corners (445), 6 Onerous (488), 7 Pawn (300), 9 Yawn (375), 15 Row (220), 16 Deiform (375), 19 Turn a Blind Eye (277), 23 Pitch (481), 26 Break a Leg (462), 27 Hail (485)

General WoL: 1 Cross, 3 Temper, 13 Confluence, 22 Veracity I tend to default to feminine pronouns when writing Generic Default WoL.

WoL Aeryn (as an adult): 6 Onerous, 9 Yawn, 16 Deiform, 17 Novel, 18 Memory, 23 Pitch, 27 Hail, 28 Vainglory, 30 Sojourn

Wolcred: 17 Novel, 18 Memory, 23 Pitch.

Child Aeryn: 7 Pawn, 29 Fuse

Aeryn’s Family: 7 Pawn, 8 Tepid, 29 Fuse, 30 Sojourn

Other OCs: 2 Bolt (Iyna), 5 Cutting Corners (Dark), 10 Channel (C'oretta), 15 Row (Dark & Violet), 16 Deiform (Iyna, Dark, C'oretta, Aeryn), 21 Solution (Pandora), 22 Veracity (Iyna), 26 Break a Leg (Iyna & C'oretta)

Ancients & Ascians: 13 Confluence (Venat), 19 Turn a Blind Eye (Lahabrea), 21 Solution (Venat), 24 Vicissitudes (Lahabrea & Emet-Selch)

Other NPCs: 3 Temper (Midgardsormr), 12 Miss the Boat (Urianger, Moenbryda, Louisoix), 14 Attrition (Ser Ompagne), 20 Anon (Ryne, Ran’jit, Thancred), 27 Hail (Estinien, other Scions)

#Final Fantasy XIV #FFXIVWrite2022 #Lyn Writing #Aeryn Striker #Dark Autumn #C'oretta Khell #Iyna Cauld #Scions of the Seventh Dawn #Endwalker #Shadowbringers #Stormblood #Heavensward #A Realm Reborn #Backstory

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mugunghwc · 1 year

Text

unprompted ask / always accepting

@badheart said: "Yeah, I was surprised too..." And she was still not entirely sure, if it had been smart to share that small information but she dared to believe that Rei would not snatch him away from her. She might be also tired of the secrecy, considering how much she loved him, if only he had more time. Meanwhile Han only soured her mood and she hated that he had this kind of effect on her, considering their bond was not supposed to go past work, not really... and yet. "I saw him with another woman outside his workplace." She was smaller than him but not too much, clearly he had a preference. "They seemed to be on good terms..." And she had to leave after seeing them, it had irked her far too much, though right now she looked almost upset and she was not sure why. "I mean I always knew it, but..." It still hurt for some reason, his words empty after all for her.

rei remained perplexed upon receiving confirmation—beginning to wonder who could it be. not that she thought she’d know everyone working in the company, but having a name & a face to attach to this mysterious lover would be nice... or not. despite wanting to be supportive, it didn’t sit well with her how much stress futaba put onto herself to meet that man’s expectations. would learning about his identity, help ease any concern that she may have? or would it give her a reason to pry further, & look at a possible co-worker in a different light? she was still unsure about it.

“that’s... really a big coincidence.” if she wanted to make it sound more romantic, one would even say fate, but rei didn’t want to put that idea into her head. especially not when one could say the same about han, given she ended up also knowing about him. they were getting too carried away, & as curious as she had been about that man, she was more intrigued over what prompted her friend to make that comment about a man she claimed to feel nothing for. rei stared—expectant to hear more, but when futaba failed to deliver it, she could only stare unsure on what to say at first. judging by her tone of voice & expression, she had expected her friend to mention something about seeing them be romantic with each other, or something of the like. it left her speechless, but not for the reasons that futaba might’ve expected. it felt as if she always had his back rather than hers, due to how quick she was to jump into conclusions.

“you just... saw them talking?” rei asks with a slight tilt of her head, as she stared curiously at her, as if giving her a chance to say something—anything else that could possibly give her another idea. “isn’t he a host? or was...?” either way, that was likely a better explanation than whatever futaba was thinking about. still, it always made rei feel a little bit guilty, choosing to give him the benefit of the doubt. “maybe he knows her through his job.” she offered another alternative. although, aside from being a business tycoon, rei didn’t exactly know what else he did for a living. whatever it was, it probably included people like her, as it was the case with chairman choi. she appeared just a bit guilty about that, considering her own past crush on him.

“—but you still like him, don’t you?” rei concluded, finishing off futaba’s sentence. a small smile was displayed on her lips, before she reached out for her hands, grasping them in her own. “i know you said you didn’t want to deal with his kind...” hosts, at least, in a romantic sense. “but maybe...not all of it is an act, you know? i mean, you have mentioned you two have seen each other outside duty, & got along, so...” maybe it wasn’t an act & he actually liked her. whether that was a friend or something else, rei couldn’t tell. futaba hadn’t shared much about it, & it felt wrong to pry. “i think you should’ve given it a shot on valentines, & see what his response was a month later.”

#badheart #.ic / way too many people tryna take the crown — npc #.ask / never have any regrets after the game #verse 01. theory of beauty / main

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leorawright · 1 year

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CONGRATS ON 1000 FOLLOWERS YOU DESERVE EACH AND EVERY ONE OF THEM!!

May I please request a Medic, Demo, or Spy with him saying fluff prompt #5 or #11 where the reader has been going through a stressful month and doesn’t really know how to feel better about themselves/ cope with their anxiety?

Awww of course! Prompts are: if you want the stars I'll bring them to you" and "let me know if you need anything okay?"

Mercs with fluff prompts 1 and 5

Medic

Medic was getting slightly annoyed with you. You'd had so much work on your plate lately and he knows how much anxiety you have about it and yet you refuse to take a break. So he decided to take it upon himself to get you to take a break or at least eat dinner since you'd done that for him whenever he'd overworked himself.

After a small conversation with you be accepted that you weren't going to take a break just yet.

"Let me know if you need anything okay?" He said turning to look at you in the doorway. His concern warmed your heart and you didn't want to just push him away knowing how concerned he was. "Could you bring me something to eat?" You asked smiling at him. And seeing how he brightened at being able to help you was worth it.

Demoman

"Darling?" Your boyfriends' voice cut through the anxiety-filled thoughts in your head. "You're always telling me to take breaks so maybe you should too?" It was obvious that he was concerned and it caused a small twinge of guilt in your heart.

"I'll finish this page and then be done I promise." You said giving him a small reassuring smile. He hesitated for a second before deciding to trust you.

"Let me know if you need anything okay?" He said before he left the room you were in. His concern made your heart swell with love. "And don't stay too late or I will carry you out of here" he threatened playfully.

Spy

He was checking in with you for the third time in the last hour to make sure you don't need anything. "Come on Spy I wouldn't bother you with asking for little things." You didn't want to bother him but he wasn't having any of it.

He scoffed under his breath before claiming "If you want the stars I'll bring them to you so I'll bring you small things too."

His words honestly surprised you but made a smile tug at the corners of your lips nonetheless. So you agreed to take a break and eat dinner with him much to Spy's silent happiness

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glygriffe · 2 years

Text

This old house

Character - Dean Winchester

Summary - Dean, eight years old, is the man of the house when his father is out. He hates the house he lives in and now his brother is sick.

Word Count - 3,200

Warnings - Angst, Sick Sam, Anxious Dean

A note - Originally posted on AO3 from a prompt by Bob Wess

I don’t like the house Dad found for us to settle in. It's old, it creaks all the time at night and it’s drafty. The bath taps gurgle like there is something hiding in there that spits nasty yellowish booger in the water. I always let the water runs a long time before doing anything with it. Just in case.

It’s also far from the school bus stop. I started school a month ago and I already had to walk to the stop twice. The first time Dad couldn’t drop me off, it took me more than an hour to walk, and I missed the bus. I had to tell the old lady that lives in the yellow house nearby that I was looking for frogs in the ditch, that was why I missed the bus and why I didn’t want to go back home to ask my dad for a lift. She believed me and took me to school herself.

The week after, I overheard Dad speaking to Caleb on the phone about a lead on what happened to Mom. He told me he would be gone “to work” before I woke up so he would put an alarm to make sure I didn’t miss school. He would be home by nightfall, he said, so I would have to walk home, too. But he told me he knew I could do it without getting lost because I have a good sense of direction.

He took off at 5 AM to drop Sammy at our old babysitter in Sleepy Eye (It’s kind of funny that Ms. Lancashire has droopy eyes and she lives in a town called Sleepy Eye) before going where ever the demon might be. He didn’t tell me it was about the demon, but what else could it be?

I was so stressed out about missing the bus that morning, I left the house not long after them to be sure to get to the stop on time. I even forgot my lunch in the fridge, stupid of me. But the pit in my stomach helped me run home after school. Now, I can run that stretch of road in less than 45 minutes. I practiced and I timed myself a couple of times, just to be sure.

It’s not that I would be mad to miss school. I would rather to stay home with Sammy. He’s four now, and he can do a lot more than just baby games. But I remember we had to move in the middle of the night last year because somebody didn’t like that I skipped a couple of weeks of school when Dad needed me to watch Sammy. It was not even full weeks or even full days, but people got mad at Dad just the same. We stayed in lots of motels with Dad for a little while before moving in with Pastor Jim. I like Pastor Jim. He got me a bike and he didn’t make me go to Sunday school. I wish I had asked Dad to bring the bike with us. It would have been faster to get to the bus stop.

Even if I don’t like our place, I know that if the lady in the yellow house thinks I shouldn’t be left in charge of Sammy while Dad’s away sometimes, she could call the cops or the child protection services. And CPS doesn’t just mean a new house or a stay at Pastor Jim or his friend Bobby; I heard them say to Dad that it could mean that they take us away from him. For good. We may never see him again.

So, the old house, our new place, is fine. Really. I just don’t like hearing all the creaking at night when Dad is not there. He left after supper, said he'll be back tomorrow, and take care of Sammy. It’s fine because it’s Friday, so tomorrow I don’t have to go to school. I can take care of Sammy. I always do, anyway. And I know Pastor Jim’s number by heart, now.

I left the TV on, to have background noise. I wish I could listen to one of Dad’s music tapes, but we don’t have a tape player in the house. So, I’m waiting for the end of the news for the movie that usually comes after. Sam fell asleep pretty quickly in the sheets fortress I built in his room for the night. Dad gave us each our room here, but I think I can better watch my little brother if I sleep in his room when Dad’s away. He’s still asleep, I checked twice already.

The news said a heavy thunderstorm would bring hail to our area. I bet the house will creak even more in a storm.

(Keep reading) ////

I must have fell asleep watching the movie. I think it is the thunder that woke me. Maybe it’s time to go lie down in the fort next to Sammy. You know, to check on him. It has nothing to do with my heart that is racing and that the lightning kind of creeps me out. And that I feel a little guilty about staying up that late to watch a movie.

I bypass the ninth step going up out of habit; it creaks fiercely and I got a scolding when I forgot to sidestep it one night while sneaking down to listen to Dad’s phone calls. Tonight, nobody would have noticed since the storm is quite loud. And Dad isn’t even there.

I go to my room to put my PJ on before tiptoeing into Sam’s room. When I slip between the chairs and under the sheets to settle in next to my brother, Sammy’s restless.

« Shhhh, Sammy. I’m here. It’s ok, I’m here. »

It’s been a while since Sammy had a nightmare, but he usually quiets down when I talk to him in a whisper before the bad dreams wake him up. If I’m too late and he’s already awake, it is a hell of a lot harder to get him to stop crying and to go back to sleep.

I get mad when Sam’s crying. I know he’s little and he can’t help it, but I tense up and I don’t know what to do so I yell to make him stop. But the whispering is working this time and he settles down a bit. It was not smart to watch TV so far away from him. If I had stayed with him, or at least played Lego in my room instead of being downstairs, I would have caught the restlessness sooner.

Sam whines a little and his skin is kind of clammy. Maybe it’s too hot for him in the fort; I make a knot in a flap of the sheet to let some of the draft in, and I settle in for the rest of the night. It’s hard to fall asleep: too much noise in and around the house. And I’m not a fan of the drafts, even if I’m the one who didn’t seal our fort.

I probably dozed a little since I jumped awake hearing Sammy cry in his sleep.

I know he is still asleep. He doesn’t cry the same way when he is awake. The sky is a little less dark when I pop my head under the sheet, so it must be close to morning. I look at my brother: he’s sweating and I can feel that his skin is hot without even touching it.

I scramble out of the fort to see if Dad is back. His room is empty and he’s not on the couch either. I try to ignore the knot in my stomach. It was stupid to think he would be back already. I think Sammy might be sick. I don’t know if we have medicine in this stupid old house, and if we do, I don’t know where Dad would have put it. I should pay more attention to stuff.

When I go back upstairs, I know Sam’s awake before going in the room because he now makes ‘awake Sam crying noises’. I go to the bathroom to get him a glass of water, shouting: « I’m right here Sammy. Be back with you in a minute! ». I think getting the water is a good call. Sometimes when his mouth is busy, he stops crying and that would be great, because I don’t want to yell at him.

« Hey. I’m back. Got you some water. Want some water, Sammy? »

His little face is bright pink and covered in snot and tears. I sit next to him and wipe the snot off his face with my pajama sleeve before giving him the glass. He takes it with a hiccup and drains it before resting his head on my shoulder. There’s still tears in his eyes, but the crying sounds are almost gone. I’m so grateful the water trick worked. He’s still as hot as a radiator, though.

I wonder when Dad will be back. Maybe we can just wait ‘til he arrives to do something about Sam’s fever. I wish he had a mobile phone like I see in some movies. But I wouldn’t disturb him when he is working or hunting. He left me in charge because he can depend on me. I can figure things out by myself.

Since morning is already here, might as well start the day. Mom uses to make me tomato rice soup when I was sick. It’s too early for that, but breakfast might help make Sammy feel better.

« Come on, sleepy head. We’ll go have something to eat. »

It took a lot of time to get my little brother down the stairs. I had to tug on his hand a lot and coax him to take each step; even had to carry him in my arms like a baby to cross the living room to the couch. I turned the television on so he could have something to do while I prepared him a bowl of cereal. But the TV doesn’t work. It’s too early for the morning cartoons to be on, anyway, and his eyes are glassy: he stares at the empty screen and doesn’t seem to register anything he sees. It kind of scares me.

Dad left me in charge, but he also left me with instructions to call Pastor Jim, in an emergency. I’m not sure it is an emergency, but I need help. Now.

I leave the cereals to get mushy in the bowl and turn to the phone that is fixed to the kitchen wall. It’s so early, Pastor Jim must be home and he will pick up right away for sure. But the phone is dead. I hang up and pick it up again, click the little thingy a bunch of times: it’s no use. Maybe the storm fried all the electric in that stupid old house.

I look at Sammy: his eyes are still glassy but now he is slumping on the side as if he can’t sit straight anymore. The knot in my stomach is now up to my throat: I have difficulties breathing and I’m not sure my voice can come out. I try anyway.

« It’s ok, Sammy. I’ll take care of everything, don’t worry. »

There is no sound per se, but the words are out in the thinnest whisper. My brother doesn’t seem to hear me, but I feel better for saying it.

Maybe I could run to the yellow house by the bus stop. The lady there helped me once, she would probably do it again.

I climb to my room to get dressed in record time and sprint back to the living room. Sammy had not moved at all. I’m kind of frozen in place myself. I can’t leave Sammy alone while I get someone; he is so tiny and helpless right now. It breaks my heart to see him like that. My eyes are beginning to burn, my throat and nose prickle and are clogging up. I blink several times to make sure not to cry.

I have to do something. I look around to find something, anything. The tap in the kitchen is dripping and I focus on that. Another glass of water, perhaps. I try to get him to drink a little, but he sluggishly pushes my hand and turns his head away from the glass. He starts whining again. It makes me almost happy to see him cry. At least he is doing something. It still makes me a little mad too, though. Plus he is not cooperating at all.

« C’mon, Sammy. Open your mouth. Open… Sam. Op… Stop fighting me and drink, damn it! »

He’s not really fighting; he looks too weak for that. I think I pour more water on his shirt than into his mouth. And I’m yelling again. At least I got my voice back. And isn’t it a good thing to put cold water on someone who has a fever? Isn’t it why moms always put a wet rag on sick people’s heads in the movies? So, that is still kind of a good outcome, right?

I don’t know what to do. I go back to the phone, just in case the line is working again by some miracle. It’s not. I NEED to do something.

I look outside. The sun is probably up because the sky is light gray, but it is hard to tell for sure because it is still raining pretty hard. I could bring Sam with me to get help. In the rain, it could be like a cold shower or a lot of wet rags.

Getting Sammy up from the couch is not easy. No way I can make him walk to the bus stop. But I can carry him, maybe. When he's up, I put my arms around his thighs and lift him to carry him without his legs getting in the way. I have to put him down at the front door to open it up, but I pick him up again on the porch. My brother is little, but he is not helping himself at all and I already feel my arms tiring. I’m afraid I’ll tumble down the porch steps if I continue like this.

« Sammy. Sammy, listen to me. Are you listening? We need to go on a hike, but you need to help me. You’re a big boy now, can you help me? I’ll give you a piggyback ride, but you have to hold on to me. Sammy, can you do that? We’ll play a little game, ok? We’re gonna count. You love counting. We’re gonna count to three and then you will hold on to me, ok? Sammy, listen to me. One… You gotta work with me, man. C’mon, one… »

He looks at me and there is some life there. I don’t know if it’s the outside fresh air or if it’s the idea of counting – he does love to count – but I can see that he heard me. He mumbles something after each number that I fake-cheerfully singsong for him. On three, I tug him on my back, pulling him off the porch while I’m on the lower step so it’s easier to hike him high. I hook my arms around his legs when I feel his hands gripping my neck, and I start marching on, double over to be sure he won’t fall off if he loses his grip on my neck and shoulders.

Ok, we’re good to go.

I’m already tired and we are both soaking wet when we get off our long lawn and onto the road. It doesn’t matter. Sam counts on me. Dad trusted me. I can do this. It’s only for 45 minutes. I know I’m not taking into account that I’m walking, not running and that my little brother is on my back, but whatever. I’m not good at math and now is not a good time to do more than count to three.

I sing a marching song under my breath to get a rhythm going, and I walk under the rain. The wind picks up and I can feel Sammy shiver against my back. I can say whatever about the old drafty house, but it is way better than being outside right now, for sure.

I keep a hand under one of Sammy’s knees and grip his arms with the other. I’m not sure he will hold on to me by himself much longer. I try to crouch a little more forward to keep him in place, but not too much to not slow down my already way too slow march.

I try to talk to Sammy, to tug a little on his arms to keep him awake, to keep him holding on as much as possible. Otherwise, I will have to stop for fear of him falling down. And I think that if I put him down, I will not be able to pick him up again.

I stumble on the road, barely keeping both of us from crashing on the asphalt by putting a hand on the ground. My palm stings. It feels darker outside than when we started. It must be the rain that is pouring heavier than before. I hope it is that because the alternative is that it’s already nightfall and I didn’t get us to the school bus stop, yet. Or maybe I went too far on the road?

But suddenly it's quite bright and I can't see anything between the rain and the headlights of an oncoming car. We’re in a curve of the road and I wandered in the middle of it without realizing it. Now, I don’t have the time or the energy to get out of the way of the car that is turning towards us. The driver probably doesn’t even see us properly because of the curve.

I just stop moving, close my eyes and brace myself. I hear the long squeak of tires on wet blacktop when the driver brakes. Then a door opens and shuts quickly.

« What the hell are you doing in the middle of the road? »

I realize I had stopped breathing when my lungs filled with air again. My knees became jelly and I slumped to the ground. Dad. Dad is back. He will know what to do. I don’t really understand what he’s saying to me, but he sounds pissed. I don’t care. I deserve it. I just know that he puts both of us in the back seat with a blanket over us. I don’t know if we’re going to a clinic or back to the old house.

Shit, I think I didn’t close the front door behind Sammy when we left the house.

Never mind. I will face whatever punishment Dad will see fit to give if the door is indeed open and a raccoon is roaming the living room. I think I will like getting back in the old creaky house, even if I have to share it with a raccoon, now that I know that Sammy will be safe.

#spn one shot #dean winchester #young dean #tw: anxiety #supernatural fanfic

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diss-is-very-gay · 2 years

Text

Hello slimes :] After being inspired by some art friends, I decided to join Art Fight for this first time this year.

I’d dome some monthly art things in the past, like inktober, but hadn’t found myself really invested in em all that much. That’s why I wen’t into this new expirience with the mindset that if I made at least five I’d consider that a win. That I’d be satisfied with putting myself out there and trying. I ended up making around 15 attacks over the course of the month with 13 of those being completed within the first 13 days. I’ve never drawn that much in my entire time doing art. Every day once I’d finished work I’d go home, skim through my bookmarks, and set out on creating a new piece. There was something super rewarding about trying new styles and drawing new characters. I felt connected to my craft in a way I never had before and a big factor of that is probably that I wasn’t alone. I was a part of something bigger.

In things like Inktober I always struggled with finding my own way to intrpret the prompts. I’d complete a piece and then feel like more could be done. That I wasn’t embodying what the writer really meant when they made the prompt. I was searching for meaning in something that was meant to be subjective. It was exhausting.

In Artfight, I wasn’t thinking hey how would I interpret this character I was just enjoying drawin cool characters. I would find someone who had made a really cool design or used colors I really liked and just draw for hours. Each piece would make me more excited to start the next one. It made me realize that I probablyt would’ve continued to draw everyday if I hadn’t had a trip mid month. It wasn’t just the characters but the other artists that inspired me too. As some of you may know, you get notifications whenever someone you followed made a piece. It allows you to see what others are up to and check out the art they make during the month. Seeing everyone else participating and commenting on eahcothers works made me even more invested in fighting right alongside them. I didn’t mean for this to get so long. I just wanted to let you know that I participated and had a great time doing so. That working in Art Fight made me more confident in calling myself an artist. Before this expirience, it was a hobby I kept up to relieve stress but now I really think I may be a real artists. Which is stupid to say since anyone can be an artist but it’s hard to call yourself something when you surround yourself with people who seem so much better than you. So, I’m really glad that Art Fight is a thing and I’m excitied to participate again next year :] p.s. expect a dump of drawings in a bit

#diss talks #sorry this was way longer than I expected it to be #just had a lot to say ig #art fight #artfight #diss art

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erodasfishtacos · 3 years

Note

how about when they first noticed ezra was a nervous and anxious baby ?

Seperation

prompt: the moment when h and yn decide that Ezra needs to see a therapist.

warnings: angst

if you like the fic - please reblog, like, comment, or come talk to me in my inbox!

I write for free so if you enjoy my fics please consider donating to support my writing on my kofi.

enjoy 😊

—

It’s late at night, like 3 in the morning, and Harry was down in Atlanta for three games with the Braves.

Easton and Cash had long adjusted to their father being away for short spurts of time - doesn’t mean they don’t miss him but they know he’ll come back to them.

Ezra was another story.

YN felt dread anytime he went away for a game because her youngest got so anxious and had trouble sleeping.

He was usually okay during the day (Harry was gone for practice and obligations during most mornings and afternoons).

It was at night time.

She really didn’t want to call and bother her husband because he had just played a game that went into three innings of overtime and had gotten a gnarly bruise on his thigh from a ball hitting him as he batted.

When they’d FaceTimed after the game, about eight, he had been so exhausted in his hotel room that his eyes were nearly closing as he spoke to her.

Now at three, three in the morning, Ezra still hasn’t went to bed because of how fussy and tearful he was - babbling about his father.

“Daddy, daddy, daddy,” He was whining into his mother’s neck, his hot tears rolling down his cheeks and onto her skin.

“Ezzie, baby. We have to calm down. Mama’s here and daddy is okay, he’s just working,” She murmured to him for the hundredth time that night.

YN was sat in the den with him because she didn’t want him waking up his brothers or his little sister who just begun to sleep through the night for the most part.

At one point, she did stir for a night feeding, and as YN sat on her bed - Briar latched sleepily, Ezra was nestled tightly into her other side.

When it hit three-thirty, she began to feel herself get frustrated because she couldn’t fix the situation - no matter what she did.

She knew once tears began rolling down her own cheeks that she had to call Harry.

It was never that she was worried he would be mad that she called, she just felt guilty because he had worked so hard already that day.

YN reaches for her phone, taking a deep inhale before pressing his contact for facetime.

It rings three times before it’s picked up, completely dark in his room, and he rasps out drowsily, “Wha’s going on, mama? Y’alright? The babies alright?”

“I-I can’t get him to settle,” YN takes a deep breath, the sleep deprivation making her want to just break down and sob.

“Daddy? Daddy, daddy, daddy,” Ezra just chants, eyes wide on the screen, searching for his father to just appear but all he sees is darkness.

That causes him to just start bawling his eyes out when he can’t will his father onto the phone like he wants.

“Whoa, Ezzie. Sweet boy, c’mon. Y’gotta breathe s’daddy can understand you,” Harry coos, stirring to turn on the light and illuminate his pillow-creased face.

“Daddy!” His voice is shrill, high-pitched and it makes YN’s ears ring.

“Ezra Duke,” Harry says a little more firmly, “Daddy can’t understand you when you scream, okay?”

The little boy sniffles and tries to catch his breath, leaning into where YN is rubbing soothing circles into his back.

“Miss you,” His son whimpers sadly, bringing his voice down a notch, “Come home, please.”

“I am flying’ home tomorrow, bab. Daddy will be home around noon but you have to be good for mama,” He says, voice still smooth and calm.

“Now!” Ezra screams in a way he usually never does and then continues, “Now! Now daddy! Now!”

Both parents are taking aback, Harry with wide eyes and parted lips as he watching his son through his phone and YN just squeezes her eyes shut, exhaling out of her mouth.

“Mama, breathe,” Harry directs towards her, can tell how overwhelmed she is getting from all the chaos of his screaming.

“Daddy, daddy,” Ezra blubbers, green eyes angry and anxious at the same time, “Please, home!”

YN hears noise from behind her, to see her eight year old padding into the room with his unruly curls poking every which way.

“Mama, is Ezzie okay?” Easton wonders, knuckling his eyes sleepily and then Cash follows right behind him in his dinosaur pajamas.

“Fuck, he woke up the boys,” YN informs Harry tearfully, “I just…I don’t know what to do. I can’t do anything to make him feel better.”

The older boys peek into the screen to smile at their dad and Harry gives them a tense smile, “Hi boys, I know Ez is being loud but can y’two be good f’your mama and go back to bed?”

They agree, giving their upset brother a kiss and then their mom before talking quietly to each other as they walk up the stairs.

“Daddy? Home, please! Hold me!” Ezra wails, clinging to his mother’s neck tightly enough to hurt as he tantrums.

“This is the worst it’s ever been, he’s normally stopped before I’ve had to call you,” YN groans, rocking him swiftly against her for lack of a better idea.

“Wait…” Harry sits up, scrubbing a hand over his puffy face, “Has this been happening’ every time m’away?”

“It just started two to three months ago but he’s always been able to be calmed down within an hour or so,” YN replies, shushing Ezra as he babbles over and over again daddy, daddy, daddy.

Harry’s jaw tightens and his frown settles into a deep crease, “Well why a’ve you not told me that m’baby has been cryin’ for me when I’m gone? Do y’not think that’s important?”

YN recognizes his irritation and is running on less than five hours of sleep over two days and may he’s it back with an even sharper tone.

“We can’t change that you’re gone. I’m trying to handle it, Harry.”

“Y’not doin’ a bloody good job at it!” Harry bites back in frustration, heart pounding in desperation as he hears his son cry for him.

“Daddy, daddy, come on.”

Then YN looks at him with watering, hurt eyes, “I’m doing my best. You’re not here, I can’t make you appear. I’m trying to calm him down without having to wake you up.”

And Harry shouldn’t but he’s angry and misses his babies - all of them but especially the one who needs him the most right now.

“Y’dont think I deserve to know tha’ Ezra’s been acting like this?” Harry snaps before adding, “In this situation, y’best isn’t good enough because he’s still crying and y’still haven’t been able to settle him.”

And wow, those words hit her like a ton of bricks. It was instilling all the insecurities that she had bubbling in her chest.

In this situation, y’best isn’t good enough because he’s still crying and y’still haven’t been able to settle him.

Harry automatically knows that he spoke before he thought and he let his stressed out mind say untrue hurtful things.

He part his lips about to speak before YN cuts him off.

“If you can do it so much better than me, fucking good you. Then come home and fix this because I give up,” YN laughs without humor, finger finding the red button to hang out and disconnecting.

Harry tried calling back over and over and over but YN just hangs her head, sniffling, as she watches her tired, anxious little son finally drift off to sleep.

At some point, her phone stops ringing when he’s given up and it doesn’t ring again until for another thirty minutes.

She knew he was going to keep calling until she picked up - had been that way since they first started dating.

By now, Ezra was asleep in his room and YN was sat against their headboard - having tossed the tear soaked shirt she had on off and was feeding Briar once more.

The millionth facetime request comes through and finally she swipes to answer, he’s furious right as they connect, “D’you have any idea how worried I am? Y’cant ju-“

He stops himself when he sees his baby girl pop her head from her mother’s breast with puffy lips and look at the screen, “Dadadadada.”

“Oh, hi lil’ mama,” Harry changes his tone completely, face softening - “Did I interrupt y’eatin’? S’mama being so nice and feeding you?”

Briar just smiles with a gapped baby tooth smile, a dimple pushing into her left cheek as she does so.

“Guess I’m good for one thing, right? A fucking milk-maker,” YN scoffs at her husband’s opposite tone as she guides Briar gently back down to finish her meal.

Harry frowns, “Y’know tha’s not anything near the truth and tha’ I think you’re the best mama to our babies. M’just upset.”

“You told me my best wasn’t good enough, I can’t believe you would say something like tha’ to me,” YN begins to sniffle again.

“Sweetheart, m’sorry. I ju-“

“What did you call for, Harry? It’s nearly four-thirty in the morning and I haven’t slept for nearly two days now. I want to feed her and go to sleep,” YN’s voice is disconnected and exhausted.

“To talk, I didn’t say how I was feeling correctly-“

“When you come home tomorrow you can fix everything and I’ll let you because I’m not doing a good enough job,” His wife cuts him off again.

Harry starts to feel a ball of worry form in his throat as he hears how unemotional and distance his wife sounds with him.

He had totally said the wrong things as his wife was just trying to do her best at balancing four babies while he was away.

“Please, let me apologize-“

“I would like to go to sleep. Please don’t call back,” YN responds before ending the phone call and leaving the screen dark.

They rarely ever fought. Especially like this.

He’s man enough to admit that he cries after he tries calling back (even though she said not to) and it went straight to voicemail.

He tries facetiming in the morning, at around nine right before if flight takes off - surprised when it actually was picked up.

Harry only sees YN for a brief moment before she’s propping up the camera on the kitchen table so that Easton and Cash are in view eating pancakes and Briar is in her high chair with blueberries staining her chubby cheeks.

Ezra must still be in bed.

“Hi bubbies,” Harry greets with a smile as they’re curls shake as they look up with excited smiles.

“Daddy! You comin’ home?” Cash squeaks excitedly through a mouthful of food.

“Hi dad!” Easton chimes in, waving.

Briar is only half-interested, more taken by the fact that if she squishes the berries between her fingers they turn mushy, babbles out a, “Daddadaa.”

“I’ll be home in like three hours, ‘kay” Harry informs them - his heart aches to be there right now with theme

“Ezzie cried all night,” Cash let’s his father know.

“Mama cried too,” Easton whispers, like it’s a secret that he doesn’t want her to hear, “I think she is really sad.”

Harry squeezes his eyes shut for a minute, “I know. Ezzie was sad last night. Can I talk to mama?”

Easton looks to his mother off camera as she must say something to him to repeat to Harry, “Mama said that she is busy and she’ll see you when you get home.”

He clenches his fist off camera, trying to smile but he knows it’s terse as he says, “Alright, I love you all. See y’when I get home.”

Meanwhile, YN gets all the children settled after breakfast.

Easton, Cash, and Ezra in the backyard - the two older ones digging holes for bugs and the younger playing in the sandbox.

Briar was snoozing in the cradle of YN’s elbow as she sat on a chaise - watching the kids.

She hits the number she was looking for, waiting for it to ring, and then she hears, “Hillside Pediatrics, this is Jess.”

The office knew the family well because Harry is Harry Styles and they have four children who visit there.

YN inquires about therapeutic options for him, resources, and if they had any recommendations for where to take him.

Like the super mom she is, she manages to set up an intake appointment that evening (which was a miracle on its own), call Anne and ask to watch the other children, and then take a deep breathe.

Harry steps through the back door, dressed in his usual Yankees hoodie, Nike shorts, and trainers looking tanner than before.

“Hi bubbies!” He greets, basking in when all of his children look up and squeal excitedly at the sight of their father.

Easton and Cash are the fastest, racing to cling to each legs and nuzzle into his thigh with a tight hug.

Ezra is slower, by the time he’s arrived to his father - there was no room for him to shuffle in and he automatically lets out an earth-shattering wail.

Just like before.

“Daddy! Hold me! Daddy, hold me please!” His youngest son begs desperately, stretching up his arms, and letting hot tears stream down his cheeks.

Harry tuts, reaching for him and popping him on his hip but Ezra has other ideas - scrambling until his nose is pressed into the curve of Harry’s neck with his arms wrapped tightly around him.

“Ezzie, c’mon now,” Harry titters softly, reaching down to give both of his other boys a kiss on the head before they dart back off to play.

“Daddy, miss you,” Ezra blubbers sadly, Harry wincing when his son yanks a bit in his longer curls by the nape of his neck.

“Y’okay, daddy’s got you. Relax, breathe bubba,” His father reassured him, swaying softly back and forth until he’s just sniffing.

“We have an appointment with a children’s play therapist for him later at five,” YN tells him, shushing Briar who’s squeaking from the noise.

Harry takes a deep inhale, “Okay, that sounds like a good idea. Can we talk now since y’been ignoring my calls?”

YN bristles at the attitude in his tone, “Excuse me if I’d rather not be critiqued on my skills as a mother when I am sleep-deprived and stressed out.”

He clenches his jaw, speaking lowly with firmness, “Y’bein’ absurd! I didn’t critique to you, y’blowing things out of proportion! Y’the one who didn’t tell me this was going on!”

“It didn’t get that bad until last night! I could handle it - he would just be upset for a little before bed but he’d never got that anxious before,” She justifies, returning the glare he’s giving her.

“Didn’t think y’could mentioned it to me? I have a right to know, he’s m’baby too. I could have fix this yet you were letting him suffer,” Harry bites out but know as soon as it’s out of his mouth that he wishes he could swallow the words back down.

You were letting him suffer.

YN doesn’t even argue back, just starts bawling because of how hurtful those words were and how could he even say that?

“Mama, fuck- I didn’t, I’m just-“

His wife gets up without a word, using Briar’s blanket to wipe at her wet cheeks, and vanishing through the sliding back doors.

Ezra was snoozing peacefully on him and he couldn’t leave the boys outside alone so he resorts to sitting down on one of the outdoor couches and curse internally.

He couldn’t believe he was being so cruel. He just felt so….betrayed that she hadn’t told him what had been going on and he felt like he was letting down Ezra.

It was a nasty feeling of guilt in the pit of his stomach because he was away so much from his family and it was stressful for everyone.

He wanted to cry at the idea of his son crying for him every night.

Harry starts to get anxious when YN isolates herself in their bedroom with Briar for the next upcoming hours.

He knocks softly, opening the door to YN turned on her side away from him, under the covers, with Briar asleep in her bassinet asleep.

“Mama? Y’awake?” Harry murmurs cautiously with a sandwich and chips since she’d disappeared and hadn’t been down once, water in the other hand.

“Are the boys okay?” YN asks quietly, not bothering to turn over to face him.

“Yes, babies are fine. They’re watchin’ Toy Story right now, eatin’ lunch,” Harry replies, eyes falling in his beautiful little daughter.

“If the boys are fine then I don’t want you in here,” YN tells him with an angry tone but low enough that it won’t disturb Briar.

Harry nearly whimpers.

“Baby, please. We need to talk-“

“If the boys are fine, I want you to leave me alone.”

Harry hesitates by the door, feeling helpless as he slips the plate onto the dresser in case she is hungry but he doubts she’ll touch it.

“Alright, I’ll leave y’be. Call me if y’need anythin’ or help with Briar,” He offers, trying to buy time in the room.

She laughs sarcastically, “Yeah, I’ll make sure you’re notified because I can’t do a good enough job myself.”

Harry sighs, running a hand through his hair, trying to conjure up the perfect words to fix this situation but it’s interrupted.

“Daddy? Daddy? Where? Hold me!” Ezra screeches as Easton stands outside the door with him, holding his hand.

“Dad, he won’t stop,” The oldest complains with annoyance as Ezra scurries to his father and up into his arms.

“Daddy daddy,” He chants into his father’s skin with relief.

“Thank y’East, Ezzie’s been sad lately. Huh?” Harry replies, thumbing at Easton’s cheek.

The oldest shrugs, “Not always. Mama cheers him up all the time with kisses and hugs.”

Harry gazes back to the lump under the blankets and feels himself getting choked up. He really really regretted his words.

He didn’t regret being upset with her. He regrets the cheap shots he took at his wife who’s just trying to be a full time mom to his babies.

“Mama?” Ezra squeaks at the word, realizing he hasn’t seen her recently and then he’s back to tantruming, “Mama, mama, mama. Where’s mama?”

“M’right here, Ez,” YN murmurs, flipping to her other side so that her youngest could see her. His face lights up and he scurries to the bed, scampering up until his mom is tucking him under the blankets with her.

Harry’s heart aches when Ezra whimpers quietly and burrows into her warm chest with happiness that he found his mother.

“Y’got him?” Harry asks, hand raking through Easton’s curls as he leans into his father’s side.

“Can we go play now, dad?” Easton asks impatiently, tugging his father out of the room and down the staircase.

Anne shows up and the two older ones are so excited, bouncing up and down as they tug her into the backyard to show her the holes they dug with Briar popped on her hip - gnawing on her shirt collar.

YN brings Ezra down the stairs, curls tamed with a bit styling mousse and a little adias x disney outfit that was the cutest thing ever. ***

Harry reaches out to take Ezra off YN but he whines and shakes his head, clinging to his mother like it was life or death.

“No daddy! Mama!” Ezra pouts angrily, glaring at his father with protectiveness.

He puts his hands up, “Okay, okay. Y’can stay with y’mama.”

The car ride is silent, Harry doesn’t know what to say and YN isn’t giving him anything to work with. He feels like he’ll just say the wrong thing again.

When they pull up to the building and Harry puts it in park, he’s startled when his wife just starts bawling into her hands.

Harry freezes for a second with wide eyes before rumbling, “Mama, sweetheart. Please don’t cry, it breaks m’heart, darlin’.”

“I’m…I’m no-not a good mom,” YN cries, “I wanted to tell you but I was scared. I don’t want you to think I can’t handle raising our babies.”

Harry pries her hands away from her face, cupping her cheeks and firmly staring, full conviction in his voice, “If I didn’t think y’could handle four babies then I wouldn’t have put them in you. I wouldn’t talk about putting more in you.”

YN’s eyes are watering, letting Harry swipe the tears away with his thumbs as she inhales deeply, “I am so so sorry I didn’t tell you. I don’t want you to worry when you’re away.”

Harry leans forward, kissing her harshly before whispering against her lips, “I don’t give a fuck about baseball in comparison to you and the kids. I’d give it up this second if y’asked. I want to worry because you’re the love of m’life and I’m y’husband - I’m here to support you and support our family.”

He continues, “I am a bit frustrated with you. I want you to tell me everything I miss when I’m gone even if it stresses me out or upsets me. Okay? But I shouldn’t have said hurtful things. You’re the best mama on this planet and y’treat our babies the best.”

YN nods, willing herself to stop crying as their appointment starts in ten minutes as she takes steady breathes.

“I forgive you. I’m sorry I let my pride get in the way. I just…I feel like you do everything for us and the least I could do is manage the kids,” She sighs with self-deprecation.

“Mama, just because one of our bubs needs therapy doesn’t mean you’re not doing a perfect job. We’ve always know Ezzie was an anxious baby. This is going to be good for him and for us, right?” He encourages, nosing at her cheek before she offers up her lips once more for a short kiss.

“I love you,” YN tells him, running a thumb of a light dusting of stubble on his jawline.

“Love y’more than anything,” He replies instantly.

Ezra is nervous as they step into the calming, peaceful office where there are neatly organized buckets of toys and shelves of books.

Patricia was a middle-aged woman with a kind smile who welcomed them in, she observed how Ezra had himself wrapped around his dad with hesitant green eyes peeking at her.

As they sit down, Patricia says softly, “This must be Ezra?”

They all wait for a moment before the toddler turns around to look at the woman and says timidly, “m’Ezzie.”

“Hi Ezzie,” The therapist greets and he gives her a cautious smile before nuzzling back into his father’s neck.

The discuss what has been going on. How Ezra has always been very nervous, anxious, cautious in a way that none of his other siblings are.

How he struggles when one of his parents is away from him, how he can get upset if he can’t find one of his siblings, or how much he worries about things most kids his age don’t worry about.

Patricia does an excellent job in calming down the parents, assuring them that it was nothing out of the norm, and that therapy would be beneficial for him.

She states that they’ll work a lot of feelings - being able to describe and recognize them. That will be one of the most important things.

Also working on his ability to calm down and cope with stressful situations, recommending once a week which of course his parents agreed to.

By the end of the intake, Ezra had ventured to take one of the baby dolls from a bin and bring it back to his father.

“Look daddy, s’a baby,” He lisps proudly, holding it up to show him.

“Good job, bubs,” Harry laughs, leaning to kiss his forehead - watching him toddle off to find more dolls to play with.

That night, after all the kids go to bed, and YN is finishing her final feeding with Briar in her nursery before putting in her crib.

Harry runs a nice, steaming bath with lavender bubbles and a candle burning with the lights dimmed low.

When she finds him, he slowly undresses her with warm kisses and praises of how good of a wife and mother she is.

They lay in there together, YN between his legs with her head rested on his chest, as his hands massage at her tummy and hips lovingly.

And yeah, everything is okay after that.

They get up the next day and everything is back to normal except now Ezra goes to therapy once a week with his parents.

(Ezra ends up working with Patricia until he’s in about sixth grade.)

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buckyownsmylife · 3 years

Text

Follow you - Chris Evans smut

The one where Chris becomes your roomate and finds out he has a domesticity kink... and more

Warnings: Smut, breeding kink, domesticity kink, friends to lovers, rommates au, pandemic mention, hair-pulling kink, daddy kink, cockwarming, kind of allusion to an age gap, but can be read as reader being into teasing chris

Word count: 4.1k

A/N: Thanks to @mollygetssherlockcoffee for reading this over and helping me make it better! You’re the sweetest person ever! this is for my own birthday celebration challenge! Like I explained here, I’m going to try to fill every single AU I listed with the characters I picked for the challenge, and since the deadline if May 27, these fics will be posted randomly, as I finish them. Hope you guys like it!

Chris’ P.O.V.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” I’d been trying to convince her to close her laptop for the last two hours, unfortunately without any luck. She just glanced at me before returning to her document, and I groaned as I left the living room in search of what I knew we needed.

“Close the laptop and I’ll give you a sip.” This time when she looked up, she found me holding a bottle of my most expensive whiskey, the one she’d been dying to try ever since she first got invited to my place.

It was a tense moment of evaluation while she took in my offer and her workload, her head turning from her computer to me and then back to the device again, and I found himself growing anxious because of how desperately I wanted her company that night.

“Please?” I tried to convince her, even going so far as to pout - which at least earned me a giggle. I considered it a win, especially with the way it made my chest warm up. “C’mon, we deserve it! After the week we had?”

She frowned when she thought back on the stresses we had confided in each other for the last couple of days, and I watched with glee when she slowly closed her laptop, prompting me to wave my arms around in victory. “We?” She teased, getting up to stand before me with her arms crossed in front of her body, making me laugh.

“Alright, so maybe just you.” I couldn’t really deny that my work “problems” paled in comparison to hers. “Listen, I’m only trying to help.” She narrowed her eyes at me, reaching out for the bottle and unscrewing it before taking the sip I’d promised.

“Shit, this really is good.” A smug smile took over my face as I wrapped my arms around her, walking us back to the couch before making us fall over it.

“Only the best for you, babe.” I watched her roll her eyes at the pet name, snickering at how it affected her. I knew it made her giddy and she hated it, it’s why I insisted on doing it - or so I told myself.

Something deep inside of me whispered differently, though. I tried to ignore it. She was my best friend and we were going to be living together for the foreseeable future. No one knew when this pandemic would let up.

And lord knows that nothing positive had ever come out of my investments in romantic relationships. So every rational thought in my mind was begging me not to overcomplicate this. I couldn’t stand to lose her friendship, anyway. That’s why I had invited her to spend lockdown with me - my need to know she was okay, and be able to have her around whenever I needed to vent.

She was the only one outside my family who got my anxiety well enough to help me work through it when I was feeling bad, and she had even been able to prevent me from having panic attacks more than once.

I just couldn’t imagine going through this with anyone other than her. I simply hadn’t anticipated how fucking horny this period of forced sexual privation would make me, and I never expected her to become a willing victim to my needs.

But boy, once the liquor hit and she ended up over my lap, shivering as she rode my thigh without a care in the world, was I glad that she did.

“Is this what you like?” I asked, looking up at her with my mouth hanging open, unbelieving of how fucking sexy she looked as she used my body for her pleasure. I didn’t even care that my cock was straining against my jeans, begging me to move her on top of it. As long as I could keep enjoying the show, being a part of it, I was satisfied.

“I wanna learn it,” I pressed, moving my hands to hold her ass, squeezing it the way I’d always wanted to do but never allowed myself to dream about. “I wanna learn how to please you.” She made me feel something I hadn’t felt before, in any of my past relationships. There was attraction, of course, but there was also this deep, familiar feeling that made me feel at home. It made me feel safe, and with the help of alcohol, I was desperate to explore it.

“Ugh,” she groaned, letting her head fall back, drawing my attention to her breasts, the way they bounced in front of my eyes, unfortunately still covered. My mouth watered at the sight of it, wanting nothing much than to strip her bare and wrap my lips around one of her nipples.

“Don’t say stuff like that, Evans.” The comment threw me off, making me frown as I took a hold of the hair on the back of her head and yanked her to me, devouring her lips. They were soft - so much softer than I’d ever allowed myself to imagine.

“Why not?” I panted against her mouth once I was forced to separate from her taste of whiskey to search for some oxygen. She kept moving, her eyes hazy and glossed over, and it sent a pang of lust straight down my body when I realized it wasn’t completely due to the drinks we shared. There was also desire in there.

“You want to learn?” She asked, hands bunching up my shirt as she used her hold to grind against me faster. “Then fuck me, Chris.” She molded her body to mine, engulfing my lips once more as I laid her down on the couch, excited to have her underneath me - excited to see her naked body, explore it, get to know every little thing that made her tick.

I knew it would be a moment I’d forever remember, regardless of the amount of bourbon in my blood. I just never expected it to become something I was so eager to relive over and over and over again.

It was supposed to be a one time thing. When I woke up in the morning, I was ready to go back to being roommates. We were good at that. She was a morning person, by the time I woke up every morning, she already had breakfast ready for me, and then we’d go out to the backyard to let Dodger out together.

We’d sit and talk and then I’d go for a run - she’d have done her yoga already, while I was still asleep - I’d answer some e-mails, she’d work on her laptop by my side and the silence was just as comfortable as all of our late night conversations.

She’d sneak out to the kitchen and come back with a few sandwiches for our lunch, and then the rest of the day would go by with us doing whatever mundane task we had in mind, together even if we were doing separate things, and I didn’t feel suffocated.

I didn’t even run out of things to say. By the time dinner rolled around and I followed her back to the kitchen, cleaning up the dishes while she fixed us dinner - I wasn’t allowed to cook in my own stove, mostly because she was terrified of my food but hid it under the excuse of that one time when I started a fire - then we’d eat together, watch a movie together, talk until we fell asleep - always together.

I was shocked. It’d never been this way in any of my previous relationships. In fact, I was certain it was the reason why they had never worked. I’d given up on any realistic expectation of settling down precisely because of this: I just never expected to find anyone with whom a day-to-day life wouldn’t eventually grow boring.

It’d been three months and I still loved to wake up to her coffee. We still fell asleep every night side by side, too tired to move into different beds because we had laughed our asses off after skyping Scott.

And now that sex came into play in our relationship? I just knew there was no way I’d ever go back to being nothing but friends - or living in a place where she wasn’t the first person I saw when I woke up.

It sucked that it took a pandemic and a night of alcohol to make me realize that, but damn, was I grateful that I decided to open a bottle of whiskey that evening.

I kept waiting for the catch, the moment it would all go to shit, but it never came. Our lives resumed to how they used to be, only now I had this ongoing inner battle to not just bend her over the nearest piece of furniture when we were busy, and the ability to do exactly that whenever there was nothing else to do.

And for a while it was bliss. There wasn’t a nagging voice inside my head questioning this arrangement because it was theoretically perfect. I had a best friend, a roommate and a fuck buddy, all wrapped into one single person that I adored.

Life couldn’t possibly get better - until I realized that I wanted more. Talks of lockdown being over started and she had plans of going back to her place, of course, but I couldn’t stand the thought of being away from her.

I wanted to see my family too, but I wanted to take her with me. Introduce her to my mom, see her get along with my sisters. Witness how she’d be with my nephews and nieces - I knew how much she loved kids. And that’s when it hit me.

I’d given my heart to her. Somewhere between the morning coffees and afternoon runs, the nights where I’d rant about all of my silly problems and she actually listened to them - really listened, never making me feel bad about what could only be described as rich people problems.

All the innocent little gestures, and the not so innocent ones - when I discovered she was exactly the nasty slut I’d always dreamed of, the way she would randomly drop to her knees and suck me off, even while I was on the phone. Most times she didn’t even let me repay the favor. She just genuinely liked to blow me.

She also liked to play with me randomly, like when we were watching a movie and she mindlessly reached for my crotch, rubbing me until I got hard. It almost always ended in sex, and I just loved it.

I loved it, and I loved her, and the idea of her ever sharing this idyllic lifestyle with anyone else made me irrationally jealous.

And that’s how I knew it. I didn’t want to mess it up. But how could I not fuck this up?

Xxx

“Chris…” Her sweet voice called out to me, reaching my ears while I was hiding in my office, trying to get my thoughts in order so I wouldn’t just randomly blurt out what I was feeling for my best friend to my best friend.

To her credit, she didn’t try to force me to keep her company - but that only made me fall even deeper for her, leaving me a complete and utter mess while she went about her day as if nothing was wrong in the world.

“Yes?” I looked up to see her by the threshold, clearly reticent about invading my privacy. It made me smile, thinking back on all of the times my exes hadn’t been as understanding, even after I let them clearly know what I was needing.

“I made cupcakes, do you want me to bring you one?” The thought of her in the kitchen, baking a sweet treat just for me had my cock twitching in my pants. Biting my lips, I pushed away from my desk to finally get up and stretch my legs, taking advantage of the monitor to hide my hard-on.

“No, I’ll come eat them downstairs with you.” She smiled before leaving, and I soon trailed after her, walking into the kitchen to find the most delicious-looking little treats, just waiting to be devoured.

Much like her, I supposed.

I was reaching for one of them, already licking my lips in anticipation when something caught my eye, prompting me to raise my gaze and look at her again, but really look at her this time.

She was wearing an apron.

There was nothing inherently sexual about the damn thing, but the way she looked with it, going about her business in my kitchen like she owned the place… It just felt right, seeing her there.

And suddenly I couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Y/N…” I started, leaving the cupcake back on the counter and brushing off the crumbs as I circled the kitchen island to go stand in front of her. She hummed before turning to meet me, smiling slightly to signal that she was listening to what I had to say.

But I didn’t know how to say it. So we just stood there, staring at each other until eventually her smile became a frown. “Chris, what’s going on?” I still couldn’t speak. Much to my absolute surprise though, she just sighed, wiping her hands on the apron while shaking her head, a knowing smile on her face.

“You’re stressed, aren’t you? You’ve been working so much, that’s why I thought the cupcakes would be a good idea,” she explained nodding towards the tray where her sweet treats laid. “They’re a reward and a break all wrapped in one delicious cake.”

The comment was like a punch to the stomach - or a scalding wave of desire rushing through my body, straight to my groin. The idea of her thinking about my needs and catering (quite literally) to them just did something to me, and I didn’t know how to explain it - I don’t think I understood it myself.

“But since they didn’t work…” she continued, blissfully unaware of the conundrum she had put me into. “I know something else that will definitely work.” And just like that, the woman dropped to her knees in front of me, reaching for my sweatpants before I could find a way to close the mouth that was hanging open.

“I guess I’ll grab a sweet treat for myself.” She looked so devious, small hand encircling my already pathetically engorged member, that all I could do was whisper an, “Oh, shit,” when she immediately wrapped her lips around it, starting to suck me off without any preamble.

My fingers were white as I held onto the counter behind me to keep myself up. She looked so good, staring up at me with her lips wrapped around my dick, I felt like I was about to blow already.

Why did she have to be such a fucking tease?

“Oh, God,” I moaned when she managed to engulf the entirety of my member inside her throat, the choking noises getting to my head. My hand instinctively laced with her hair, first to hold her lips close to my navel, then to pry her completely off of my member.

“What’s wrong?” She questioned once she was able to speak, surprise written all over her features while I was still staring down at her slightly teary face and trying to find my voice.

“I-I have a problem.” There. I said it. I had finally made some progress in my goal to let her know what was going through my head. Only instead of curiosity, what I got was a confused expression from the woman still holding my dick, her eyes darting from my own to the member throbbing between her fingers.

“No, you don’t!” It would have been funny if I wasn’t so fucking frustrated. Yanking her by the hair, I complained, “Not that kind of problem!” pulling her to the living room so I could throw her on the couch, trying to ignore her moans of pleasure in the process.

I’d figured out pretty early on that she had a pretty serious hair-pulling kink, and if my plans of sitting down and having a level-headed conversation were ever in motion, they surely went out of the window the second she pulled my body down to cover hers and adjusted my cock so it would easily fill her.

“Son of a…” I groaned, letting my head fall down against her chest as the little vixen gleefully giggled underneath me, legs wrapped around my torso as she tried to thrust up and tempt me to move.

“Just wait a second,” I managed to reason, but she just shook her head.

“Fuck away your problem, Chris. Use me. I want you to.” Motherfucker. I really couldn’t catch a break with her. Just as she started to make me move again, my hand instinctively wrapped around her neck, lightly squeezing it just enough to get her to shut up.

“I wanna start a family with you,” I finally spilled, looking deep into her eyes as I tried to ignore that I was still balls deep inside of her. Her eyes widened, and now her mouth was the one hanging open.

I couldn’t really relish in it because she looked absolutely delicious and she felt stupidly heavenly to my throbbing dick.

A few seconds went by without as much of a reaction from her and I was about to pull out - despite still being achingly hard - but her legs held me tighter, stopping my plans of leaving her tight haven.

“You know…” She started to speak, a little out of breath, catching my attention as I finally gathered the courage to look her in the eye again. “When I first met you, I thought you were the epitome of a fuckboy.”

The unexpected sentence had me snorting, and then I just couldn’t stop laughing. Finally pulling away from her, she fixed her hair when she sat up and I did the same, shaking my head slightly as I rubbed my eyes.

Our own relative nakedness - well… mine, she was wearing her usual dress with no underwear under the damn apron - didn’t affect anything when I pondered over her words, until I decided to break the silence.

“I mean… I think I was?” She chewed on her bottom lip as she took in my response, analyzing it, weighing its validity in that gorgeous head of hers. I was nervous, but she hadn’t blew me off yet. And quite honestly? I’d do anything for that little hope that was growing inside of me.

“What changed?” Was her question, so unexpected I couldn’t help but question, “Huh?”

“What made you change?” It wasn’t an unwelcome inquiry, especially when the response became clear to me, lighting up my brain and warming my chest, spreading all over my body until I had no choice but to voice it.

“I realized I could have a future with you.” My smile was vulnerable but honest, and in her eyes, I could see that she knew that. When she threw one leg over my lap, straddling my hips, I allowed myself to breathe deeply again, leaning on the soft cushion while taking a hold of her ass.

“So, how are we gonna do this?” She non-nonchalantly asked, slowly rubbing herself against my still half-hard member. I groaned when I realized the implication of her words, knowing that the meaning paired with the feeling of her wet lips dragging along my cock would get it back up in no time at all. “You wanna do me right now?”

The brashness of the question made my eyes light up, as weird as it may sound. In that moment, it became clear just how perfect for me she really was, giving me what I needed exactly in the way I didn’t know how to ask for it.

“See? This is why I’m in love with you.” She rolled her eyes at that, making me laugh. I’d anticipated the gesture, I knew it’d take her longer to say it, but it was alright. The fact that she was willing me to give me a child was more than enough proof of her feelings for me, if her entire behavior ever since she moved in wasn’t already.

“Shut up and fuck me, Evans.” Throwing her back against the couch, she yelped in surprise when I took off my shirt and slapped the inside of her thigh, assuming my usual position of hovering over her smaller frame.

“Spread your fucking legs, darling. I’m gonna fuck you real good.” The way she bit her lip as I slowly penetrated her again showed me just how excited the prospect got her, and as I started to make good on my promise, her moans told me just as much.

“Holy fuck,” she commented as I pounded her ruthlessly, weeks of frustration and the rush of anticipation getting the best of me, and I was glad for the feeling of her nails biting into my skin because otherwise, I’d probably run over the edge of not even caring about her own pleasure as I chased mine.

“You gonna cum inside of me, honey? Make me a mom? Finally fulfill your dream of becoming a daddy?” Her words detracted me from my task of sucking bruises on the skin that was now mine to bruise, mine. I threw my head back, yelling a, “fuck yes,” as my hips sped up, desperate to fill her up, but I was determined to get her to cum before me.

“Say it,” she ordered, small hand circling my throat as best as she could, a throwback to what I’d done only moments prior. It wasn’t enough to choke me, but it did catch my attention. “I wanna hear you say it.”

Tears escaped the corners of my eyes as I blinked, the intensity of the moment overwhelming in the best of ways. “God, you are such a fucking tease…” She chuckled underneath me, giving my throat a squeeze before she raised up on her elbows to kiss my jaw.

“Better get used to it… daddy.” And just like that, I realized that I had yet another kink I hadn’t known about before her. Or maybe it was just her, and I was obsessed with the damn woman, painfully turned on by every little thing that she did.

“I’m gonna cum deep inside your little pussy, sweetheart,” I finally gathered myself enough to do as she asked me to. “You’re gonna belong to me forever now. Give me kids, make me happy. How do you like that?”

The mischievous grin she gave me told me everything. “I love it.” I knew this was her way of saying what she couldn’t yet voice, and I’d take it. I’d take anything she gave me, any chance I got to love this wonderful woman.

We came together, both riding our highs in deep ecstasy. I moaned when I felt myself empty all of my seed inside of her, incredibly excited about the prospect of starting our future together right then.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” I cradled her face in my hands as I struggled to catch my breath, but she turned it to the side and pressed a kiss to my palm and I was breathless all over again. It was such a simple action, why did it get to me so much?

“You’re not too bad yourself, Chris.” I didn’t want to part with her warmth, so I just adjusted us on the sofa in a way that kept me inside of her, sighing contently as I realized I’d never have to sleep away from her again.

“I’m gonna stay right here all night.” I adjusted myself so I was resting my face on her boobs, perfectly happy to do just so, but by the tone of her voice, I knew she had a teasing smile when she called me an, “Old man.”

“And here I was, thinking you’d be able to go again.” Warmth filled my chest at the realization of just how badly she wanted me - just as much as I wanted her too. I was so damn ecstatic. Not even her pokes at my age would be able to affect me.

“Oh, darling… better get ready,” I warned as I adjusted myself to hover over her again, taking notice of the excited glint in her eyes, the way she bit her lip as she stared back at me. “I’m never gonna get enough of you.”

The next morning, I added a new kink to the list of random bits of information that were driving me slowly insane as I felt the overwhelming need to bend the woman that I now got to call ‘mine’ over the nearest piece of furniture and rail her until I had cummed deep inside her pussy: seeing her in my shirt while cooking breakfast.

Yeah, I was going to live a happy life by her side.

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