#i’m not particularly good with words sowwy :(

[lesbianyosano]

thinking about how kunikida is inarguably suicidal and yet how many people seem to miss this completely when discussing his character, likely bc the way he goes about it stands in complete opposition to how dazai deals with his own suicidal tendencies (disclaimer, i’m basing this of off what i can remember bc i’m too lazy to look for all these scenes rn)

because dazai is fully aware of his feelings, embraces them, really. all of his attempts are unambiguous and he talks about wanting to die a lot, but he also has strong self preservation instincts (if you can call it that). he rarely puts himself in immediate danger and strays away from pain. also all of his attempts (from what we’ve seen in the main manga at least) are highly ineffective (and he knows it) because he’s still hoping to find some reason to live, it’s a huge theme in his character arc (which doesn’t diminish how he feels or how serious his condition is)

but with kunikida is the complete opposite. first of all, he doesn’t seem to register how he feels as being suicidal. i would imagine it’s partly because of how strongly he associates the feeling with dazai, and he’s nothing like him so it can’t be that. but when you pay attention to how he acts it becomes clear that’s what’s going on with him. the helicopter scene is the prime example, how quick he is to throw his life away even when he doesn’t really have to (there had surely been different ways to deal with the hunting dogs then, i mean chuuya was right there), but this also comes up during the scene with aya when she’s first introduced. after the bomb thing gets resolved she asks him what he would have done if yosano didn’t come and he just.. smiles and tells her that he promised not to have people die in front him (i’m paraphrasing this bc i’m too lazy to find the chapter sorry). and it’s easy to miss i guess, but it’s still so chilling he basically admits that he’s rather die on the spot than have to deal with the guilt of not being able to save people. like that’s not,,,, a normal and healthy way to think. and then there’s also what jouno says to him (and again i’m paraphrasing), how his first involuntary reaction to the possibility of his friends dying was relief, with shame and fear coming afterwards. because if his friends are dead that means he can give up and die too.

so yeah uh, i think there’s something really wrong with him and most of these feeling seem to stem from guilt which makes me wonder what the hell happened to him that he’s now acting this was. asagiri release the forbidden backstory <\3

#oh this is long and stupid #i’m not particularly good with words sowwy :( #txt. #kunikida doppo #bsd kunikida #bsd analysis #i might delete this if cringe overwhelms me

[iratetourist]

study buddy // eddie munson x reader

featuring my fave eddie gif 🥰

summary: eddie munson wasn’t much of a good study buddy, but he had other ways to make it up to you… 👅 aka eddie’s tongue is a bit of a menace

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: idk girlies i wrote it on my phone, it’s not too long

author’s note: this man got me so obsessed that i wrote a fic for the first time in nearly a decade because of him… so this shit is ROUGH (sowwy) and the concept kind of got away from me, but regardless, i had fun just writing away for a few hours!! also, if any of the formatting is off, i apologize, like i said, i’m only just getting back into this lmao

warnings: a little sauciness, nothing explicit, only lightly implied

________________

“So, of course, I was thinking that if I introduced, like, a… a dragon-blooded drow priestess, the entire idea would come together so well. I think I want her dragon lineage to be a secret, though—”

You nodded absentmindedly at your boyfriend’s random D&D musings, humming at him in response, though a small, contented smile rested on your face as you listened and flipped through the textbook on your lap. Eddie, completely enraptured within ideas for his next campaign, continued to ramble from his spot lying next to you on the floor, his own textbook having long been tossed God-knows-where and his papers scribbled with D&D notes.

“Dustin would lose his goddamn mind at the reveal, I bet, but would still probably try to recruit her even if she killed off half the party—” Eddie shot up instantaneously at that, yet another idea that had to be written down dawning upon him.

Needless to say, this studying session wasn’t exactly proving to be successful.

Sighing, you set your book to the side and just watched him for a few moments. It was difficult to be annoyed at him when he was talking about far more interesting things than anything your textbooks had to offer and was this hyped up, because frankly, it was downright adorable. Not an adjective pretty much anyone would use to describe Eddie Munson, but entirely applicable right now, in your expert opinion as his girlfriend.

He had a contagious smile plastered on his face, his dimples deeply on display… a boyish sparkle of excitement to his eyes… his curly hair splayed wildly across his face, and his hand was writing away a mile a minute as he attempted to get out every idea he had before it disappeared. Every few seconds, he would look up at you and his face would light up just that much brighter, and you could feel your heart ache all the more, and it took everything in your power not practically pounce on him.

It was the way he was so comfortable with you, so happy to have you just be with him and listen to any and all passionate rants and ravings he had, that you wanted nothing more than to just grab him and go at it right then and there—

But no! You had come here, to his trailer, with the express intent to study while spending time with him. You hadn’t gotten to see each other that much over the past few weeks, what with studying for finals, so you figured, two birds, one stone - you both could get some studying done while getting a chance to chill and catch up with each other…

…Yeah, you’re not really sure how you convinced yourself this would work.

Inevitably, Eddie Munson didn’t give much of a shit about studying when he had barely seen his girlfriend for three weeks and you both were alone in his trailer. You couldn’t exactly blame him (you weren’t feeling particularly studious yourself that late afternoon, among other things), but the fact was you promised yourself you would at least finish reviewing up to Chapter 31 of your physics textbook before you let him… uh, actively distract you too much.

And yet, you were only barely done reading through to Chapter 16, and had already been there for three and a half hours. Oops?

Taking a deep breath and closing your eyes, you made a new promise to yourself: at least get to Chapter 20 today, that’s it. You could do that, easily - only four more chapters to go, and you knew the eighteenth was shorter than most. Perfectly attainable goal.

Then you heard a groan to your side, and opened your eyes to find Eddie stretching his arms high above his head, muscles taut and tattoos enticingly on display. Add the fact that his tongue - it was always that goddamn tongue of his - was sticking the slightest bit out past his lips, running along them, and you felt every bit of resolve you had just mustered flush out of your system in an instant, only to be replaced by an immediate surge of heat and longing. You exhaled forcibly, but couldn’t bring yourself to look away.

When he opened a single eye a second later at the sound, he gave you a long, knowing smirk and then changed his stretching position, throwing one arm across the opposite shoulder and pressing his hand to his elbow, making sure to go slow as he did so.

“See something ya like, sweetheart?”

Oh, good Christ, you didn’t know how long you could keep this up, not when he brought in the nicknames. Looking down, you saw a flash of his smooth skin, the briefest peek of toned abs, as his shirt riled up from the action, and your mind went blank yet again. Your eyes shot up to his, and you could feel your cheeks flush instantly at the cocky glimmer in his own - caught red-handed and by God was he revelling in it.

Stupid cute, annoying boyfriend… he knew exactly what he was doing and you both hated and loved him for it.

“I… I need…” You could barely swallow down your embarrassment at how breathy your voice came out. Coughing a bit, you shifted a little away from him, and then purposefully grabbed your textbook and made a show of sticking your nose in it. “I need to finish reading… um, this… yeah. At least… to Chapter 20.”

Wow, super convincing, Y/N, good job.

Eddie’s smirk only grew that much more smug at your strained tone. Oh, he liked a bit of challenge.

Crawling over to you, he leaned his head down on your lap, turning so he was looking directly up at you through the window your textbook made. “Hm…” He ran a hand up the back of your forearm, sparking goosebumps across your skin, and reached for your textbook. “I think what we both need is a bit of a break, don’tcha think?”

Despite the increasingly distracting mood, you couldn’t help but laugh a little at that. The warm sound reverberated through your body, and Eddie swallowed thickly, trying to keep his own composure - were it not for the fact that he was trying to wind you up as much as possible first, he would have hiked you over his shoulder at that and taken you to the bedroom. But… not yet, not yet.

“Tell me, Eddie Munson, how do think you’ve earned a break, considering I know for a fact you haven’t read past chapter three in that textbook of yours?” Passively, you began to play with the ends of his hair - you knew he loved that more than he was willing to admit.

Eddie put on a fake pout at that, pressing a hand to his heart. “Y/N, you wound me!” he began, running his tongue across his lower lip again. Despite your best efforts, you once again found your eyes trailing after it, and the shiver that ran through you at that was quite acutely felt by man laying beneath you, earning yet another self-satisfied smirk. Good God, you were gonna let him have it…

“I have spent the the better part of nearly four hours tirelessly working out potential ideas for our next D&D campaign, and you don’t believe that warrants a nice, long break? Well, I’ll be damned. I think I more than deserve it…” He pushed himself up at this, knocking the textbook you were very much so just staring blankly at out of the way, before nudging you to the ground, hovering atop you.

That goddamned smug grin of his grew that much more at how easily you let him do so, and the sight stoked further at the coiling sensation in your gut. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to the shell of your ear, a husky whisper leaving his mouth, “…and I think you require it.”

“Mm, you think so, do you?” Your hands came up to ghost your nails down his back, and he let out a throaty noise at the contact, causing a cheeky smile of your own to grace your features. “Well, I think what you require is just one good thing to really focus on…”

“Just say the word, sweetheart,” he breathed, turning from your ear to drag his lips across your jaw and down your neck, pressing hot kisses to the exposed flesh.

You felt a hand snake its way up your shirt, and smiled to yourself before reaching down and running a your thumb across his chin and up to his lips, pulling his face to yours. He peered up at you - eyes dark and half-lidded, tongue, as always, poking past his lips oh-so temptingly - and you knew he was utterly at your command.

“I suppose this,” you whispered, brushing your fingertips lightly across the blade of his tongue, “could be put to better use than just teasing me.”

And that was all it took before he was crushing his mouth against yours, pressing that distracting tongue of his to your quite receptive own.

The suddenness and force of the kiss caused a broken moan to leave you, and whatever cheeky resolve you had left began to succumb to the greater desire to just be close to him. Reaching up, you eagerly threaded your fingers into his long hair and gave it a quick, sharp tug, and a stuttered breath fell from Eddie’s lips.

“Fuck…” His eyes fluttered closed for a few seconds, savouring the sensation, before a wicked grin broke out on his face and he shifted himself downwards, pressing kisses down your much-too-clothed body.

Settling just before the hem of your pants, he hooked his thumbs in your belt loops, and then proceeded to flash you a look from between your legs that had your heart skipping a beat and your toes curling in anticipation.

“Don’t worry, love, this tongue has more than one way to go about teasing you…”

…And just like that, it was safe to say that you didn’t bother getting anymore studying done that particular afternoon.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #stranger things reader insert #my fics

[amrv-5]

@marley-manson thanks for the WIP sharing tag.....!! yet another chunk from The Long Fic below the cut. 

i’ll tag @pomegranate @theblob1958 @mashbrainrot and @kaviiinsky (if you want and also if you. don’t write fic .... SOWWY ignore this)

Enjoy BJ having a pleasant morning by sneaking out of church:

They spent the rest of the service outside, with Erin jumping around in BJ’s jacket like one of the superheroes in Radar’s comic books. BJ tried and failed to recite a poem he’d often traded with Hawkeye to her—he kept getting lost halfway through the second stanza, and Erin had taken to gleefully repeating the last word of every line, which was as cute as it was thought-derailing. 

“Here come I to my own again,” BJ started again. “Fed, forgiven and known again. Claimed by bone of my bone again, and cheered by flesh of my flesh.”

Erin took a few toddler-wobbly steps down the stairs, and started dragging BJ’s jacket through parking-lot gravel. 

“The fatted calf is dressed for me, but the husks have greater zest for me…” he said, trailing off. He tried to imagine Hawkeye, sleep-deprived and bitter over a tray of poisonous-looking C-rations. 

He recalled Hawkeye’s voice as vividly as he was able, the timbre, the inflection, the way he elided consonants when he was tired, and the vexing half-stanza came to him almost immediately. 

“So I’m off with wallet and staff to eat the bread that is three parts chaff to wheat, but glory be!—there’s a laugh to it, which isn’t the case when we dine.”

Hawkeye’s voice was sonorous and soft, even coming to him from months in the past. 

Erin dropped his suit in favor of picking up a piece of gravel that was partially quartz. 

“Glory be, there’s a laugh to it,” BJ repeated to himself as Erin held the quartz out for his inspection. 

He held it to the light, admiring the way the light refracted through the crystal. “Beautiful,” he said, and handed the rock back to Erin. “Good find.”

“Diamond,” Erin said. 

“Quartz,” BJ said. 

Erin tilted her head.

“Quartz,” BJ said, “is a type of mineral. It’s what we call igneous—” he paused, and let her sound the new word out— “which just means that it was made when magma inside of the Earth cooled.” He tapped his cheek. 

“Do you know what magma is?” he asked. 

Erin shook her head. 

“What about lava?” he asked.

Erin’s face lit up. ���Volcano,” she said. “Like hot laba.”

“Lava,” BJ said, enunciating carefully. “Well, it’s called lava when it’s outside. When it’s still inside the ground, it’s called magma. Anyway, the point is, when that melted rock—”

“You can melt a rock?” Erin asked, eyes ablaze with interest. 

“Yes,” BJ said. “That’s what metal is, and lava.”

Erin appraised the cars around them with renewed interest. 

“Anyway,” BJ said, smiling. “When that melted rock cools off, sometimes we get minerals like quartz. Actually, usually we get minerals like quartz. That rock you found is one of the most common minerals on Earth.”

“Common,” Erin repeated. 

“It’s everywhere,” BJ elaborated. “You can find it all over the place. It isn’t particularly valuable, or special.”

Erin looked at the stone in her palm. “But it’s pretty.” 

BJ cleared his throat, and then scooted down a few steps. He laid a hand on her shoulder, and then planted a kiss on her forehead. “I love you. Did you know that?”

“Love you,” Erin said offhandedly, looking for more quartz in the parking lot grit. 

BJ leaned back on his elbows and took in the sun and the peace and the vivid blue of the sky while Erin occasionally exclaimed over finding new and interesting rocks. 

#my fic #the litfic cometh #mashposting #thank you for the tag!!! hope u all enjoy this #im getting antsy to post but I really want to fully finish it first and I'm......... 125k in and still going so

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

Fic: What We Don't Know Can't Hurt Us

Fandom: Triple Frontier

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Librarian!Reader (cishet female) meet-cute

Warnings: No warnings really, some language and mention of masturbation and sex. Reader doesn't like kids. Yearning. Frankie is a TOTAL DILF SWEETHEART. Sad ending.

Summary: Reader is a librarian who has to temp at the kids' section desk from time to time which is a pain because she doesn't like kids. And who is a regular if not a very hot, scruffy-looking dad with the very polite and mild-mannered daughter? Sparks fly but some things maybe aren't meant to be.

Words: 5,155

a/n: Just to be clear, this one doesn't end well. I just wanted to write something sad, I guess.

Oh, shit, there he is again. The Hot Dad.

You straighten a little in your chair and once again curse the fact that you’re working in the children’s section at the library: the only desk that isn’t adjustable. You prefer to do your service desk duties standing up, not only for ergonomic reasons but because you hate how patrons look down on you – literally – when you’re seated by the desk. Also, you tend to slouch and it’s not an attractive look. And at the kids’ section, you’re all supposed to work on the same level as the little tykes. And you’re not particularly keen on those.

You are, however, keen on hot dads. God knows you only get them once in a blue moon and if they show up, it’s usually in tow of a whole clan of children and a wife. But this dad has been in once before when you’ve had desk duty and you saw him stop at the shelf for picture books about divorce and pick out a few. You also heard him tell his little girl that she shouldn’t bring the books she chose to her mom’s. Divorcee, so fantasizing was even more allowed – although he probably had a girlfriend. Guys like that always do.

“You don’t want to lose them, sweetie,” he had explained patiently to his daughter. “You can keep them in your room at my place but if you take them to your mom’s there’s a risk you lose them and that means I have to pay for them. You see, we’re only borrowing these books, that’s what you do in a library.”

You had smiled an inwards smile when listening to him. There was nothing you loved more than parents who actually seemed to understand that all the material in the library was free at one simple condition: return it in time, in the same condition as you borrowed it. A lot of people did not seem to grasp this and made a huge deal when they failed to meet these conditions and were faced with late fees or even had to compensate for lost books. But when parents who knew how to use a library include their offspring, explain how it all works for them, well, that’s how you foster a new generation of good library patrons.

This dad did just that. And he was very careful with the books, prompting his daughter to be the same. Every book she pulled out of the stacks, he helped her put back in the right place. That’s practically marriage material right there and it was enough to make you weak at the knees, to be honest. After almost ten years working in a public library, you were disillusioned about people in general and their intelligence in particular. Sure, you liked your job enough to not cry in the mornings when you had to leave bed, and you did enjoy the work itself (mostly), but… having to deal with people was exhausting. Having to deal with little people even more so, and the worst was having to deal with adult people who had little people with them. Parents.

Hence your absolute obsession with Hot Dad who was soft-spoken, really good with his kid, understood to appreciate the library and its services, nodded his hello to you when passing by the desk, didn’t make a mess, clearly read to his kid regularly and encouraged her to read for herself. You just didn’t get to see people like that so often, and it triggered your interest. You allowed yourself to daydream about him.

Francisco Morales. You remember his name from his last visit, when he and the kid came up to the desk with their haul. You always encouraged patrons to use the self-service check-out (the less you had to do deal with them, the better), but for this guy you were more than willing to go the extra service mile, even with the kid staring at your every move from across the desk as you registered all the loans. You silently gave her plus points for not trying to “help” like some kids did, and for the quiet but clear Thank you she gave you without prompting from her father.

You’re busying yourself with the returns, loading them onto a cart, when you hear a soft, deep voice go Excuse me behind your back. You twirl around and see Morales, pulling his baseball cap off his head to reveal curls that would make any hair model cry of envy.

“Sorry to bother you,” he offers. Take me now, you think to yourself but instead, you give him your brightest customer service smile, the one you rarely give patrons.

“No worries, how can I help?”

“We’re looking for picture books about farm animals. You don’t happen to have those separated? I noticed you have some subject areas separated.” He gestures back towards the picture book stacks where his daughter is quietly perusing.

“We don’t, but I think we have some Julia Donaldsons available, let me come and have a look.”

You don’t always offer. With most patrons, you’d tell them to look under D for Donaldson and then smile sweetly and ask them if they’re okay to do it themselves. You can’t do everything for everyone, that way they’ll never learn. But for Francisco Morales and his well-behaved little girl, you’re absolutely willing to make an exception.

There are some Donaldsons that the girl, whose name you learn is Sofia, eagerly accepts when you present her with them.

“I love fawm animals,” she sighs happily as she browses the first one. “Do you?”

“Who doesn’t love animals?” You make the effort to small talk although communicating with kids usually makes you awkward.

“What’s youw favowite? Mine is bunny. And howses. And lambs.”

“Goats! I love goats, they’re so cute and sweet and playful.” You almost add something about goats being the devil’s favorite animal as well but manage to stop yourself in time.

“Is there something else you want to ask the librarian?” Morales asks his daughter. “If not, I’m sure she has a lot of work to do, and we shouldn’t keep her any longer.”

“I’m here to help,” you shrug and give him a little smile: not a polite, impersonal one that you’d give a patron, but a more intimate one. A flirty smile. “You just need to ask.”

The smile he gives you back is warm and grateful, and you realize that he doesn’t have different facial expressions for different people. He doesn’t work in customer service because if he did, he’d know the difference. Not that you ever thought he worked in retail or anything like that, well, maybe a hardware store, but no. He just doesn’t seem like the type. The way he moves his body suggests something a lot more physical.

Oh, you’d like to get physical with him, alright…

All the sucky library-themed pick-up lines flash through your head. Can I check you out as an overnight loan? Can I insert my private collection into your empty stacks? My reference desk or yours? Am I being too loud, well, you’ll just have to shush me with your lips. You’re like an overdue library book because you have fine written all over you.

Worst part is, if Hot Dad Morales tried any of these on you, you’d probably forgive him and go for it. Maybe. You’re really not that simple, but a girl can dream, right?

The kid thanks you and you return to the relative safety of the desk and the mundane task of alphabetizing returns. You need to calm the fuck down and act professional. Daydreaming is fine but you’re barely toeing the line.

God, you need to get laid. As if that’s something that one can remedy just by walking into a store and ordering a medium dick with a side of hands and tongue.

📚📚📚

The next time you see Francisco and Sofia Morales, you’re taking your lunch break in the small park outside the library. It’s a sunny day and you didn’t fancy sitting in the breakroom with your salad, listening to colleagues talking about who cares what. So you took your lunch box, fork, and water bottle, and went to sit on the park bench the furthest away from the swing set and sandbox. The weather is nice and you enjoy yourself and your break from the library’s chat service. You never know what you’re gonna get when you work the chat: a stupid question about opening hours which anyone could google the answer to, or something more complicated like requests for books with partial or no titles, rarities, or subject areas that you don’t know much about. That’s when you get to use your whole competence and really dig deep, think outside the box, solve problems. You love it but it’s challenging at times, and takes a lot of energy. Your outdoor break is welcome.

“Hi!”

You hadn’t noticed the girl walking up to you and the greeting startles you.

“Oh, hi.”

“We’we wetuwning the animal books,” Sofia informs you seriously. You have to smile.

“Good job. You want more of those or something else this time?”

“Mowe. Will you help me find some?”

“I’m not working the desk at the children’s section today but my colleague there will absolutely help you. Just ask her.”

Now you see Morales walking towards you from the swing set, carrying the large, flowery canvas tote that says “book bag” he always brings to the library.

“Hello,” he nods with that warm smile that he definitely gives everyone. “Sofia, don’t disturb the lady on her break. I’m sure she wants some peace and quiet before she has to go back to work.”

Jesus fucking Christ. How does this man just know shit like this?

“I’m sowwy,” Sofia immediately offers. “I wanted to say hello.”

“Don’t worry, it’s okay,” you allow, although technically, he’s not wrong. “I’m almost done. It was nice to see you. I hope you have a good visit to the library.”

“Thank you!” She skips along and Morales chuckles as he takes off his baseball cap and scratches his head, swipes his long locks out of his forehead, then puts the hat back on.

“You’re her favorite, you know,” he tells you. When you raise your eyebrow, not comprehending, he hurries to elaborate. “Of the librarians. She says you’re the best.”

“Thank you, but whatever for?” You know you do a good enough job at your usual position and that your regulars appreciate you, but you are also very aware of not being at your finest in the kids’ section.

“You have to ask her,” Morales grins as he looks out for his kid, who has returned to the swing set and is pumping her legs on the swing, brows knitted in concentration. “But she’s very taken with you. I think it’s because you’re very calm and focused with her.”

Calm and focused??? You almost laugh out loud. That’s everything you’re not when you’re at the kids’ desk.

“Thanks,” you manage, because you have to say something.

“She’s also really interested in your tattoos and I definitely think she wants to get her nose pierced now,” Morales goes on. “I told her that we don’t comment on people’s appearance, but just a heads up, she might ask you about those.”

Ah, the unpredictability of children.

“I appreciate it.” You really do. You don’t mind talking about your tattoos or the septum ring you have but if a kid suddenly asks about it, you’d rather be prepared.

“Anyway, sorry to intrude on your lunch.”

“No worries,” you reassure him. “You can… sit down for a while if you want to? I have ten minutes left.”

Your heart beats faster at your proposal. It’s not exactly appropriate but you just want to enjoy his company for a moment. And discreetly sniff him because he smells so fucking good, woodsy and smokey but with a hint of… vanilla? You’re terrible at recognizing smells but it reminds you of some aroma reeds you had a couple of years ago that smelled like a wood cabin with vanilla sugar spilled on the floor. You loved it but like everything you love, it was discontinued.

Morales looks over at his daughter before nodding, the book bag slipping down from his shoulder as he places it next to the bench.

“If you’re sure?”

“Wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t.”

He likes your straightforward answer, you can tell from how his eyes crinkle a little and how relaxed his body language is when he sits down.

“I’m Frankie, by the way,” he says, like he just remembered that introductions are a normal part of human interaction. He extends his right hand to you and as you accept it and tell him your name, you can’t help but marvel at how huge his hand is. Big, warm, slightly damp but not in a weird way.

“Nice to meet you, Frankie.” Frankie. Francisco Morales is Frankie. It suits him better than Francisco, to be honest.

“And that’s Sofia.” He points to the girl who seems content swinging by herself. You realize you’re expected to say something nice about her to the proud dad.

“She seems sweet.”

“Yeah, she’s awesome. And she loves coming to the library, it’s all she talks about when I have her.” He clears his throat and adds: “Her mother and I got divorced quite recently. I only get her five days every other week.”

“Sorry to hear that.” Shit, it’s divorce and custody talk from the start. You have no idea how to respond to that.

“That’s life,” he shrugs, “but I figured that going to the library every time I get her could be a good routine to ground her. And then we have books that we can read together for her entire stay.”

It’s definitely a good routine as far as you can tell.

“When I was between nine and thirteen years old, my dad would take me to the local library every Monday evening,” you tell him, smiling at the memory. “My dad never opened a book in his life but he patiently read the auto and tech magazines while I collected half the kids’ section with me. When I went to tell him that I was done, he always pretended to object to the amounts, but then he’d help me carry it all to the car.”

As you tell him this, you’re looking at him, no, staring at the patchy, grey-splashed beard he’s sporting. It’s the most fascinating thing you’ve ever seen. What’s the story there, why doesn’t it grow evenly? Is this a thing? You don’t have enough experience in the field of facial hair. Is it genetic? Is it always like this?

He keeps looking at his daughter as he listens to you with a small smile on his face, clearly enjoying your little anecdote.

“That’s lovely,” he says, turning his attention back to you when you’re finished. “Dads and daughters, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

You pick up your phone to check the time. Shit. You have to return to the chat.

“I gotta go. Lunch break’s over.”

You collect your things and stand up, brushing off your skirt. Frankie stands up as well and picks up the book bag.

“I’ll see you in there?”

“I’m not a the desk today.”

“Oh.” He seems disappointed, his eyes flickering from you to the ground. “That’s too bad.”

“And the kids' section isn't my primary department.”

“The bad news just keep on coming, don't they,” he jokes as the two of you start to walk towards the entrance. Sofia jumps from the swing and comes running.

“She's not at the desk today, daddy,” she tells Frankie precociously.

“I know, mija. We'll have to ask someone else about the animal books, okay?”

Sofia doesn't seem too happy with this solution but nods. You take your leave before she has the opportunity to ask about your body modifications, and disappear through a door marked “Staff Only”.

📚📚📚

The following weeks you seem to see Frankie everywhere. You run into him at the supermarket and get drafted into advicing him on what cereal to buy for his kid. “Something healthy, but good so she'll actually eat it.” How the hell should I know? you want to scoff, but you're simping for him enough to help him choose something you'd never in a thousand years touch yourself. You see him in town one afternoon when you're running errands and he suggests you grab a coffee - holy hell, in your book that's a fucking date - but you decline as kindly as you can, citing a busy schedule when in fact you're mostly just scared out of your mind. The daydream is becoming a little too real and you're absolutely not ready for that, especially not because of the kid. If it wasn't for Sofia, you could have dared the leap, but dating a guy relatively fresh out of a marriage, and with a kid to boot? No, that's asking for trouble and you don't want trouble.

One afternoon at the kids' desk, you once again get to help Sofia find books, this time on sharks.

“She went from farm animals to sharks in one week,” Frankie confides in you when the girl is sitting quietly in a reading nook, carefully studying every page and occasionally widening her eyes at what you suspect is pictures of shark teeth. “It's sharks this and sharks that. She asks if there are sharks in every body of water she sees, from the pond in the park to the ditch outside my parents' house.”

“Have her watch Jaws and she will never want to think about sharks ever again,” you suggest, earning a laugh although the idea was probably a little bit on the morbid side.

“Maybe, but that would probably scar her for life. I actually want her to learn how to swim.”

“Then best not.”

You pick up a couple of books someone else left behind on a table and make a gesture that says I have to re-shelve these, come with and Frankie follows you to the right shelf.

“You know, she talks about you as her friend at the library.”

Now, some people would find that adorable but you don't. You're not friends with this kid, you're in a position where you could possibly influence her keenness to literature and literacy but you will always risk critique from her guardians. Being a children's librarian is like a hybrid between being in customer service, and being a teacher. You get to form young malleable minds but you are always subjected to criticism, even when you've done nothing wrong. Kids are patrons, like adults, and to have them see you as friends is only going to complicate things.

“That's nice,” you reply carefully, not really sure what else to say. It's so hard to talk to parents sometimes, one wrong words and you're basically Satan, you can't know because you don't have kids yourself, how dare you not worship the ground my offspring just vomited all over?

“You're definitely her favorite librarian.”

That you can take. You have a couple of adult patrons who come in regularly and prefer to get their reading recommendations from you. They always have time to discuss literature and they bring you a box of chocolates for Christmas.

“Well, she's easy to help. She always knows what she wants and she's polite. And quite easy to please,” you smile, meaning every word. You don't mention that the only time you like kids is when they're like Sofia is right now: reading quietly in a corner, handling the books with care.

“You're my favorite librarian as well,” Frankie adds, and now that sweet smile he's always wearing when you see him is shy. There's definitely a red tinge on his cheekbones as well and it makes you want to lean forward and kiss him on his goddamn mouth with that goddamn full lower lip that he sometimes sucks into his mouth or fucking licks...

“How many librarians do you know?” you ask and manage to sound easy-going, or at least you think so. The laugh Frankie produces is low and rolling and it makes your stomach coil in on itself. Fuck him and that deep voice he rode in on!

“Got me there. It's basically you and Mrs Wilkerson, the school librarian who scared the shit out of me when I was in elementary school. She made sure I didn't step foot in a library until, well, now.”

“Oh, I so wanted to be a librarian like that when I was a kid!” You grin at Frankie's horrified expression. “No, no, hear me out! I always had this idea that those librarians led these super rich, fulfilling lives as night-time vigilantes or that they were actually millionaires who spent their free time floating around in pools with fancy drinks in hand.”

“Were you... a normal child, besides these illusions?” Frankie teases you and before you can stop yourself, you're slapping his arm playfully. Like a girlfriend would. Or someone more intimate than a Favorite Librarian, at any rate.

“I'll have you know that the voices in my head are saying that we had a very normal and healthy childhood,” you reply with as much dignity as you can muster, while desperately wishing for the phone to ring or another patron to ask for your help. But no, the ones present seem to be managing on their own - except for one mom who seemed to have overheard your joke because she is now staring at you with hesitation in her eyes.

It's Sofia who comes to your rescue with her request of being taken to the bathroom. By the time she and Frankie are done there, your colleague has come to relieve you of your duties at the children's section.

📚📚📚

You knew of course that it was coming. You may not be that experienced in the terms of dating and relationships but you weren't stupid and you had some experience: Frankie was going to ask you out. It had to happen. Technically, it had already happened that afternoon in town when he asked you out for coffee. He maybe didn't see it as a date, but you certainly did.

It happened when you had just started your shift in the children's section and it was a fucking mess. A class of kindergarteners had just left and the teachers hadn't bothered to keep them in check, so there were not only books on every available surface, they were also put in the wrong way and in the wrong places. Your colleague who you were relieving stayed behind to help you, feeling too bad to leave it all to you.

That's when Daddy and Daughter Morales showed up. You weren't really happy about the existence of kids in the first place but made an effort for Sofia, who brought you a drawing she had made in preschool that day. It featured some figures in green, slightly reminiscent of animals and one human but you wouldn't be able to tell. Luckily, Frankie explained it to you.

“She's waited all day to give you this drawing of you with goats.”

“Wow,” you manage. “Thank you, Sofia, this was so kind of you.”

The girl is beaming with pride. “Will you put it on the wall?”

“Super probably!”

“I can see you're busy,” Frankie notes and ushers Sofia along. “We won't distract you. Come on, honey, let her do her job now and maybe you'll get to talk to her later.”

You nod your thanks and focus on cleaning up the entire department before you colleague leaves and Frankie and Sofia come to the desk to borrow this week' picks. Sofia seems uncharacteristically giddy.

“Do you want to come with us to the awbowetum?” she asks with a wide, expectant smile. Fuck shit ass hell.

“We're going on Saturday,” Frankie fills in, “and we were both hoping you'd want to join?”

Saturday. Thank goodness.

“Sorry, I work on Saturday,” you say, trying to sound rueful. It's true and you're relieved about not having to lie. “But thanks, it's sweet of you to ask.”

Sofia is clearly disappointed and so is Frankie, but he masks it better.

“Some other time, yeah?”

If it were only him, you'd tell him it wasn't a good idea. But you can't say that with the kid right in front of you. You may not like kids but that doesn't mean you want to scar them for life.

“Yeah, maybe.”

You loan them the books and as they leave, Sofia waves happily at you and Frankie shoots you one last smile that makes you press your thighs together in your seat.

Come Saturday, you're by your usual desk in the section for adult fiction and you almost fall off your chair when you see Frankie come up the stairs and straight up to the desk.

“Hi.” He's had a haircut and a shave and looks different. Still good, but very different. The dark locks of his hair are more tamed. The mustache is still there but you miss the patchy beard.

“Um, hi? Where's Sofia?”

“In the car, with a friend. We're going to the arboretum.”

“Right. I hope you have a good time, the arboretum's lovely.” You still don't understand what he's doing here and he seems to have some difficulty in telling you. Moving his weight from one foot to the other, he scratches his neck and looks down - why does he have to be so freaking cute? - before looking up at you.

“About that... I wanted to apologize. I wasn't sure it was a good idea to ask you to come with, but Sofia was so persistent. She likes you so much. I didn't mean to put you on the spot like that. I'm sorry.”

“That's alright,” you brush it off because there's not really anything else you can say. “Don't think about it, just go have a good day.”

“I also wanted to ask if you wanted to go grab a drink with me. Just me. Maybe next week when Sofia's at her mother's.”

Fuck, there it is. His hopeful face makes you hate yourself for the answer you have to give.

“I'm not sure that's such a good idea, Frankie,” you begin carefully. “I'm really flattered, but you're... recently divorced with a kid. That's a lot of baggage and things could get complicated. I don't want to get caught up in that.”

You've practiced this speech at home but it still breaks your fucking heart because Frankie is so good-looking, kind, funny, and sweet. You would've asked him out yourself already if it wasn't for the baggage. Fuck, you masturbate to the thought of him, for crying out loud! You imagine what it would be like to be with him, to make dinner together and watch movies and go to bed and wake up in each other's arms. You think about sex with him a lot. You make an effort with your appearance those days you know he'll show up at the library, you don't even mind the kids' section that much anymore because you get to talk to him.

You are fucking in love with him, or at least the idea of him because you don't know much about him, only that he used to be a pilot in the special forces but now he trains new pilots, he has best friends who are like uncles to Sofia (and who have been asking about this mystery librarian she always keeps talking about), he likes cooking and loves baking with his daughter, he hates working out but knows he should take better care of himself, hell, you even know what brand of milk he buys.

He's clearly disappointed but keeps a brave face, one that you can see right through because he wears his heart on his sleeve.

“I understand that,” he says quietly, mildly. “I'm sorry, I hope I didn't embarrass you.”

Jesus fucking Christ can this man not???

“No, don't worry. I'm sorry I couldn't give you the answer you wanted. It's just... not a good time.”

Shit. You shouldn't have said that. Now he might think it could be a better time later.

Frankie nods and smiles sadly. “Yeah, you're probably right.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Yeah, me too.”

He clears his throat and nods. “I better be going. You have a good weekend now.”

“You too.”

He shoots you one final smile before he turns around and leaves. As you watch him go down the stairs to the exit level, you just want to call his name, do your run through the airport and hurry after him, throw yourself into his arms, kiss him, Jesus, imagine that somewhere there's someone who'll get to kiss him some day, tell him that you made a huge mistake and you want to go out with him, you want to have drinks with him and dinner and breakfast and lunch for the rest of your lives because nothing would make you happier than making him happy. You want to be the reason his eyes crinkle and his cheek displays that little dimple that makes you lose your train of thought every time you see it.

But it's not for you. People with kids need to prioritize their kids and you know that you can't be anyone's number two. You don't want to get caught up in custody disputes, you don't want to be "your father's new slut", you don't want to be anyone's stepmom. You don't want to have to spend five days a week in the same house as a five-year-old. Being in a relationship is difficult enough as it is and if you can make choices that avoid some of the problems, you're going to make them, no matter how much it hurts.

And it hurts. A lot. But so much in life hurts and you've made it through before.

He must already be out the door, probably in the car. Does he say something about this to his daughter and friend? Is it a female friend? No, it must be one of his army buddies, probably one of the brothers.

You pull up Frankie's profile in the library database and see his phone number. You could call him anytime. Or send a text. Keep talking to him, flirting.

Shit. It's a bad idea.

A patron approaches the desk and you force yourself to look mild and service-minded.

“Hi, do you have Hate To Want You by someone called... Ray, I think?”

“Please hold a moment, I'll check.” You stifle the sigh that threatens to escape you and hope that the day will be busy so you won't have time to think about Francisco Morales again.

#my fic #triple frontier #francisco catfish morales #francisco frankie morales #frankie morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader

[calpalirwin]

Painted Pink Room

A/N: @talkfastromance4​ mentioned that a part 2 to this would be cool and I had some ideas for it, so here we are.

Word Count: 2.3k

And away, and away we go!

__

It took a month for McKenna to finally sleep through the night in her own room, not that Calum and Luke minded in the slightest. Nap time was fine, but there was something about sleeping in the dark alone, even with the aid of a nightlight, that sent McKenna scurrying into bed with her dads every night.

So when Calum rolled over one morning and found empty space before his hand smacked into Luke’s arm, he shot awake. “Where’s Mack?!”

Luke mumbled angrily in his sleep. “Shh, Cal, I’m sleeping…”

“And Mack is missing!”

That got Luke’s attention, blue eyes snapping opening. He sat up straight, throwing back the covers. “What do you mean she’s missing?!”

“Do you see her in here?! Did she sleep in her own bed all night?”

“She better have otherwise she might be actually missing…”

Both men jumped out of bed and raced down the hall to McKenna’s room. And found her peacefully sleeping in her bed, Duke and Petunia curled up on the floor next to her. “How is she still asleep?” Luke asked in a whisper. 

Calum shrugged, checking the time on his phone before groaning. “Probably cuz it’s five in the fuckin’ morning…”

“You woke me up at five in the morning because Mack was asleep in her own bed?!”

“I panicked, okay?! She’s never spent the whole night in her room before, what was I supposed to think?!”

“Sssshhhhh!” Luke shushed, gesturing for them to leave the room. “You wanna wake her up, or go back to bed? I, for one, vote for going back to bed.”

Calum yawned, agreeing with Luke that more sleep was needed. “Hey, Lu?”

“Yeah?”

“She did it. Whole night in her own room,” he smiled in pride.

“Yeah,” Luke matched Calum’s grin for a second. “But I’m kinda gonna miss her elbow in my ribs.”

“Yeah. Me too…”

And as much as they missed the little body squeezed in next to them, they did enjoy the extra uninterrupted hours of sleep. They also enjoyed McKenna tiptoeing into the room with both dogs at her side to wake them up, asking for breakfast.

~~~

“Alright, little miss, how do we want our hair today?” Calum asked her after Luke helped her get dressed. “Up or down?” He swung her up and sat her down on the bathroom counter, spinning her around so they both faced the mirror.

“Up!”

“Ponytail, braid, or bun?”

“Tail!”

“Great choice!” Calum grinned before setting to work, taking in pride at how well he’d learn to do her hair over the past handful of weeks. “Did Daddy tell you what we’re doing today?”

“‘Ool?” she asked, cocking her head to the side and turning a little.

“Gotta sit still for me, darling.” He gently set her straight again. “But, yeah, you’re right. We’re gonna go swimming today. Do you know why?”

She thought about it for a second, her little face scrunching in the mirror.

“You know you scrunch your face just like Daddy when you’re thinking,” Calum noted.

“Like Daddy?” she asked, scrunching her face more.

“Just like him.”

“Eyes like Papa!”

“Yep, eyes just like mine,” Calum smiled at her. “Can you remember why Daddy said we’re swimming today?”

“No.”

“It’s because we’re meeting some friends today!”

“Fwends?!”

“Yeah! Uncle Ashton and Uncle Mikey are gonna come over, so you can meet them and your cousin Wyatt.”

“Wots of fwends!”

“A little bit, yeah. But they’re excited to meet you.”

“Me?!”

“Yes, you! So, what do you say? Wanna go swimming with your new friends today?”

“Yes!”

“That’s my girl! C’mon, let’s go find Daddy.”

~~~

There was a small downside to having told McKenna that friends would be coming over to swim. It was the fact that she had very little concept of how time worked. So any sound of a car driving past was met with an excited gasp of “Fwends?!” and Calum and Luke having to shake their heads and go, “No, Mack. It’s not time yet. We have to have lunch and a nap first.” A cycle of conversation that repeated on an endless loop even after lunch had been eaten and the nap had been taken.

“Seriously, where the fuck are they?” Luke asked in a low, aggravated tone.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Calum replied in a similar tone, huffing and pulling out his phone. Then he sighed in relief, flashing the message at Luke. “On their way. 5 minutes ago.”

“Which means they should pulling up any-”

“Fwends?!” McKenna interrupted as a car turned into the drive.

“That better fuckin’ be them,” Luke grumbled, marching for the door and pulling it open. “Hey, ya made it!” he hollered.

Ashton laughed as he slung a bag over his shoulder. “Sorry mate. Someone took forever to go down for a nap.”

“S’alright. Still got most of the afternoon. How long can these two swim for anyhow?” Calum pointed out, stepping onto the porch next to Luke with McKenna at his side. “Look, Mack, our friends are here! You wanna say hi?”

McKenna peered around Calum’s leg over at Ashton and Michael, her eyes wide. “Big wike you…” she whispered.

Calum laughed. “Yeah, Uncle Ashton and Uncle Mikey are big like me and Daddy. But look! Wyatt’s little like you.”

“Hey, McKenna,” Michael said, crouching down in front of her. “I’m Mike, and this is Wyatt. Wyatt, do you wanna say hi to McKenna?”

“Hi,” the little boy said, before glancing up at Michael, and whispering “Swimming now, Daddy?”

“You don’t wanna say hi to your uncles first?” Michael whispered back.

“Oh…” Wyatt turned his attention to Calum and Luke. “Hi.”

“Hey, bud,” Luke chuckled. “Mack, they said hi. Do you want to say hi back?”

“Hi…” she offered up shyly.

“How ‘bout we hit the pool, yeah?” Ashton asked, trying to steamroll through the shy hellos.

“Great idea!” Luke agreed. “C’mon, Mack, let’s go get your swimsuit on.”

“Otay!”

From there, conversation flowed much more fluidly as the four men leaned against the pool walls, chatting about work ideas while McKenna and Wyatt splashed about on the steps, engaging in their own imaginary play and toddler babble. “So how are you guys adjusting and everything?” Ashton asked once they’d worn down work ideas. 

“Fine I guess,” Luke said with a shrug.

“Yeah. She actually slept the whole night in her own bed last night,” Calum added. 

“Shit, that’s a huge step. Have you reached the tantrum stage yet?” Michael asked.

Calum and Luke looked at each other and shook their heads. “No,” answered Calum. “She gets whiny and pouts about things sometimes. But no major meltdowns so far.”

“But don’t jinx us,” Luke added with a laugh.

Just then there was a particularly loud splash and all of them turned as Wyatt came up sputtering, before letting out a scared wail. “Whoa!” Ashton rushed, stepping over and helping Wyatt back up on the step. “Deep breath. You’re okay. What happened? Did you slip?”

“She! Pushed! Me!” he continued to cry, pointing at McKenna who scowled at him.

Calum grabbed McKenna, pulling her away from Wyatt before setting her on the ledge in front of him. “Did you push Wyatt?”

She nodded.

Calum sighed. “Why?”

“He mean.”

“He was mean to you?”

“Uh-huh.” And to demonstrate, she dipped her hand in the water and splashed Calum in the face.

“Hey!” Calum said sternly, grabbing her hand. “We don’t splash people in the face. That’s not nice.”

“He did!”

“Oh…” Calum said in understanding. “He splashed you in the face so you pushed him?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Okay, but we don’t push people, darling. That’s not nice either. If you have a problem, you come get me or Daddy, okay?”

“Otay…”

“Okay. So what do we say when we’re mean to someone and hurt them?”

“Sowwy…”

“Don’t say sorry to me. Say sorry to Wyatt.”

“Sowwy ‘Ayatt…”

“It’s otay,” he sniffed.

Ashton and Calum set both kids back to play before making their way back over to Michael and Luke. “So what happened?”

“I think Wyatt accidentally splashed her in the face and she got pissed, so she shoved him,” Calum recapped.

“So we’re raising a vigilante? Cool,” Luke laughed. “Good to know.”

“Shut up, it’s not funny,” Calum scolded.

“Eh,” Michael shrugged. “In all fairness there’s a 50/50 shot that Wyatt splashed her on purpose.”

“That’s true,” Ashton nodded. “Tried to break the habit about a billion times, but hey, maybe he just needed to get shoved to make the lesson stick ya know? They’re kids. No one got hurt. That’s what matt- Wyatt James, don’t splash her.”

Wyatt’s hands were poised in the water, ready to splash at McKenna again. He giggled, not thinking Ashton was serious and gave McKenna a face full of water. On instinct, she shoved him off the step again.

“Dude, what did I just tell you?” Ashton groaned as he went over to get Wyatt.

“Alright, we’re done,” Calum said, following Ashton to collect McKenna. “That’s enough swimming for the day.”

“Good call,” Ashton nodded.

“Papa, no!” the toddlers shrieked as they got taken out of the water.

“Yeah, I bet you’ll listen next time then, huh?” Ashton asked.

“Papa!” Wyatt continued to sob as Ashton wrapped him in a towel and sat with him in a chair. “I… wanna… swim!”

“Me too!” McKenna hiccuped.

“Maybe later. Right now we’re taking a break,” Calum told them both.

“Daddy!” McKenna cried.

“Oh, you’re mad at me so you want Daddy? Alright, see how far you get,” Calum chuckled, as Luke and Michael made their way over to the rest of the group.

“What’s up, sweetheart?” Luke asked, taking McKenna from Calum.

“Swim, pwease?”

“Nope. We’re all taking a break.”

She let out a loud cry, burying her head into Luke, who reached over to shove Michael. “I told you not to jinx us, ya cunt.”

Michael laughed, “Wait til she has a tantrum over something completely ridiculous.”

The men continued to talk, while whispering small assurances to the toddlers that “It’s alright. You’re fine,” until the hiccuped sobs turned to soft sniffles.

“You understand why Papa had you take a break?” Michael spoke softly to Wyatt. “We don’t splash people in the face.”

“Accident…”

“The first time, maybe it was. But the second time we all watched you. Papa even told you not to, and you did it anyway. That’s why McKenna pushed you, and that’s why we all had to take a break.”

“Oh… Sowwy…”

“Not to me. To McKenna for splashing her, and to Papa for not listening.”

“Sowwy Papa.”

“Thank you, bud,” Ashton smiled at his son. “I love you.”

“Wuv you. Sowwy, ‘Kenna.”

“It otay.”

“What else do you say, sweetheart?” Luke guided. “Papa already warned you about pushing people the first time, that’s why you had to take a break.”

“Sowwy ‘Ayatt.”

“It’s otay.”

“Daddy?” McKenna asked, tracing her fingers over Luke’s painted nails.

“What’s up, sweetheart?”

“Dis pwetty.”

Luke waggled his fingers. “They are pretty, huh?”

“Mhm. Mine wike dat?”

“Yeah, we can get your nails painted.”

“Me too?” Wyatt asked, perking up.

“If you want, bud, sure,” Michael nodded, before directing his attention to Calum and Luke, “You guys got nail polish? We can do it now.”

“Yeah, we got a whole bunch,” Calum answered. “I’ll go get the stuff. Lu, you wanna get her changed out of her swimsuit?”

“On it.”

Fifteen minutes later found the group hunkered down in the living room, nail polish bottles scattered on the coffee table while little fingernails were swiped with pretty colors. “Tada!” Luke cheered as he capped a bottle of bright red polish. “Look, your nails are just like mine, now.”

“Papa too!”

“Oh, I dunno. Does Papa wanna match with us?” Luke asked Calum, waving the bottle back and forth.

Calum looked at his nails, and shrugged. “Eh, fuck it. Go ahead.”

“You want the red, or do you want your usual black?”

“Red’s fine.”

“Alright, Mack, you wanna help me paint Papa’s fingers?”

“Yeah!”

“Careful not to smudge hers,” Calum warned lightly as he settled back, giving Luke one of his hands.

Carefully, Luke held his own fingers over McKenna’s on the brush to guide her as she painted Calum’s nails for him.

On the other side of the coffee table, Ashton was blowing on Wyatt’s fingers to help the glittery purple nail polish dry. “You know, Daddy used to have hair kinda like this.”

Wyatt looked over at Michael and laughed. “Daddy hair purple!”

“My hair was lilac, not purple,” Michael corrected as he swiped black nail polish across his own nails.

“Not the lilac. The…” Ashton snapped his fingers as he thought. “Fuck what was it? It was like purple, blue, and black all at once.”

“Galaxy. Yeah, that one was fun.”

“Probably my favorite hair color of yours honestly,” Calum told him.

“Yeah, you ever gonna dye your hair again, Mike?” Luke asked.

“Maybe when you finally decide to dye yours.”

“I did dye my hair!”

“You’re blonde, and you dyed your hair more blonde. Doesn’t count.”

“How does that not count?!”

“Cuz you gotta dye it another color.”

“It was another color!”

“No, it was a different shade. Not the same thing.”

Luke made sputtering sounds of disbelief. “Cal! C’mon, tell Mike it’s the same thing.”

Calum snorted. “I’m with Mike on this one. Dying your hair a different shade, isn’t the same as dying it a different color.”

“You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“Not if that side’s wrong, I’m not.”

“You’re an ass for 1. And for 2, your nails are done.”

“Very pwetty,” McKenna beamed, proud of her handiwork.

“Thank you very much, darling,” Calum said, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. “Now we all match. Me, you, and Daddy.”

__

Tag List

@aquarius-hood1996 @creator-appreciator @philthepegacorn @myfavfanficsever @cxddlyash @youngblood199456 @stormrider505 @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @hoodhoran @metalandboybands @maybeememez @major5sosstan @1weekago​ @kaitieskidmore1​

#painted pink room #calum hood #calum hood fic #luke hemmings #luke hemmings fic #calum hood x luke hemmings #dad!cake #dad!sos #5sos #calpal irwin

[7team7]

Choosing Fate: Chapter 1

SUMMARY: Sakura’s peaceful life is disrupted when she learns of her imminent marriage to Sasuke, the handsome boy she had only ever seen at the public market. Arranged marriage AU. Rated M.

A/N: I love a good arranged marriage AU, but I feel like all of the ones I’ve read are powerful political/royal types of things? So I wanted to write one about normal people because that’s of course more common and somewhat related to my own family history and ~normal~ ss is always good Also no major specifics because I’m a lazy researcher and I’ll leave it open to readers. Just know it’s set in the Past lol and in a literal village none of that built up Konoha shit

.

.

Like a good and dutiful son, Sasuke accepted the news that he was to be betrothed soon with a simple bow of his head. It had happened to his brother years ago, it was bound to be his time soon too. He would respect his parents’ choice. It’s all he really could do. Itachi and Izumi were having trouble conceiving a child, but the Uchiha bloodline needed to be continued.

Even if he wasn’t particularly interested in getting married, he wondered what kind of girl she would be. Was it someone he knew? Was she smart? What did she look like?

But after delivering the news, his father began eating and there was no more conversation for the rest of dinner.

.

Girlhood. Short lived and usually more bitter than sweet. Her family was poor, but Sakura had a decent life, and she was grateful. But like any selfish teenager, there were things she still yearned for. She daydreamed of a handsome, kind husband sweeping her off her feet and she hoped for a big house where she didn’t have to feel like her mere existence was taking up too much space.

So when her parents sighed before eating dinner and said she was to be betrothed soon, her world simultaneously collapsed and expanded.

She couldn’t help the tears from slipping out and her voice cracked when she asked, “Does that mean I have to stop going to school?”

Her parents nodded, knowing how much her education meant to her. Her siblings had just gotten old enough to allow Sakura some relief and the time to attend school again. But it simply wasn’t possible to fulfill the duties expected of a wife and attend school at the same time.

Sakura continued eating her dinner at the table but she didn’t chatter away like she normally did. She looked longingly at her youngest sister, Moegi, so innocent and carefree. She wondered if Ino would be allowed to stay longer than Sakura had. When would Naruto get married? Sakura would soon be living with a new person, a new family — and there was nothing she could do. Her parents couldn’t manage her and her siblings for much longer. As the oldest daughter, it was her time.

Mebuki’s secrecy made Sakura feel even more on edge. She was itching to know at least one small detail about her future husband, but for some reason her mother would not budge. Sakura wondered if she was doing it to save her.

Sakura wallowed in her own misery the entire trip to the meeting place, imagining him to be horrible, ugly, poor, cruel, childish. Gone were her silly dreams of a romantic marriage of choice. She knew no one would ever come to save her. Maybe if she hated him enough, he would just disappear.

So when she was faced with Uchiha Sasuke as her future husband, she was pleasantly surprised. They’d hardly ever spoken, but at least he was easy on the eyes, even if he wore a frozen mask of indifference.

Sasuke tried not to let his reaction show on his face. He knew Sakura was younger than he was, there was no way she was ready for marriage! Why did his parents make such a decision?

He got his answer soon, as their parents wasted no time and began relaying the exact details of their betrothal:

They would be married in six months time. The Uchihas were more well-off than the Harunos and they would bring Sakura into their household. Fugaku knew of Kizashi as a respectable farmer and found Sakura suitable enough for Sasuke. Her education made her an attractive candidate, and Fugaku appreciated the way Kizashi never tried to present her on a platter to the Uchihas, unlike some other neighboring families. Fugaku’s hand could never be forced.

They were both once again painfully reminded of their birth order: the younger son was nearly disposable, and the oldest daughter could only be of use through marriage and domestic activities.

Young Sasuke hadn’t minded living in Itachi’s shadow. In fact, he thought of himself as the shadow. If he followed Itachi’s steps exactly, then that meant he was doing something right. But as he got older, he realized that his actions didn’t really matter because he could never top the favored first son and his seeming perfection. He was honestly surprised by his father’s careful consideration of a marriage candidate.

Sakura closed her eyes and tried to calm herself down; the resentment made her throat feel tight. She was always expected to take care of her younger siblings, and now she was being given away to another family to make room in her house. Would she ever have a choice? Did her life even matter?

.

They were left to speak alone, although they both sensed their chaperone-parents lurking just around the corner.

“Uchiha-san,” she nodded.

“Haruno-san,” he returned.

They knew of each other, but had only ever exchanged a few words at the market. He’d seen her haggle with the toughest of merchants and successfully bring down the price of medicinal herbs. Sakura had watched him move with effortless grace throughout the market. He bought salt from her once.

And of course he noticed her appearance — pink hair and green eyes were hard to overlook. She was pretty, but he would never admit that.

And Sakura felt a little something like betrayal when the blush crept up her face. She had told herself to feign indifference, her own little form of rebellion, but how could she ignore someone like Uchiha Sasuke? But despite any of his attractive traits, he still represented the ultimate death of her freedom.

They stood next to each other, nearly a foot apart, in silence for ten more minutes until their parents came to collect them.

.

“You’re lucky,” her mother reminded her on the way home. “He’s handsome and only a few years older than you. You will never be poor again. I’m sure he will make a fine husband.”

“You’re lucky,” his mother commented when they returned to their house. “She’s a lovely girl, smart and beautiful. Be kind to her.”

.

.

A/N: Umm I know I keep saying I'll post/update one work then I do another instead LOL sowwy I cannot control this brain. I'm rating it M for now because hopefully I'll be able to include some spicy stuff but I'm /.\ shy so we'll see. I'm very busy but hopefully I can post updates sooner rather than later :)

#sasusaku #Sasuke Uchiha #sakura haruno #uchiha clan #my writing #fan fic #arranged marriage au

[princelettow-archive]

1, 2, 8, 21, 25, 39, 40, 49, 50 for my homie cata

i would die for you

also this got long so i’m throwing it under the cut i am sowwy

1. How does your character think of their father? What do they hate and love about him? What influence - literal or imagined - did the father have?

Her father is probably the most important person in Cata’s life. He was pretty much the one who raised her (along with her eldest brother) so his teachings shaped her as a person. She loves her father even though they didn’t have the most “loving” relationship (he is a very strict person who isn’t very open about his feelings) and that he pretty much always pressured her into career paths she didn’t particularly like.Cata admires him because he did raise five kids almost on his own and all of them turned out to be great people so of course he had to do something good, and ever since she was a kid all she ever wanted was for him to feel proud of her, something he told all his other kids but not her (that is still one big wound in her heart because she feels as if she failed him and her family). She hates how he is so stubborn (something she inherited from him) and refuses to ask for help or to share his problems and instead becomes grumpy and takes it out on his children (that is why she is always very open about what upsets her and how she feels all the time, she was raised in a “no-communication” environment and has seen how bad it can be).

2. Their mother? How do they think of her? What do they hate? Love? What influence - literal or imagined - did the mother have?

Cata has few memories of her mother because she died when she was only four years old. Pretty much all she knows is stuff her older brothers tell her (because her dad rarely talks about her) and stuff she reads from her old letters to her dad when he was away from home. Her mom wasn’t alive long enough to have a strong literal influence of her but since Cata knows she was a good and loving woman she tries her best to “honor” her memory, so she did have some influence on her daughter after all.

8. How does your character feel about religion?

Cata was raised as a Christian! I think her family could be considered as lapsed Catholics? They’re all baptized but they’re non practicing and don’t really follow the teachings of the religion. Cata herself is part of the Church (since she was baptized as a baby) but she considers herself agnostic.

21. What are your character’s manners like? What is their type of hero? Whom do they hate?

She is….not exactly the best mannered person out there fksehufs she is very blunt and almost all the time forgets about addressing her superiors with respect. It’s not like she is rude, it’s just that she has one braincell and it never reminds her of courtesy. She also swears, A LOT, almost all the time. You know people who say “ah shit, fuck, sorry!” when someone tells them they swear too much? That’s her. Growing up with five men does that to people.She admires those who always try to help people in need even though it may be inconvenient or dangerous for them. She kind of has…some regrets? regarding the actual reason she joined the Sheriff’s Department (she didn’t do it to “help people”, she just did it because it seemed like an easy job where she wouldn’t have to do much) so that’s why whenever she sees someone who is trying so hard to make the world a better place she can’t help but admire them.In the same line of work she absolutely hates people who just try to make things difficult for everyone or who exploit and run over people for their own personal gain

25. What are their hobbies and interests?

She loves singing even though she is not really good at it. She believes music should be enjoyed by anyone regardless of their ability to sing well (this is the fancy excuse she always gives people when they try and stop her from making their ears bleed). Other than that she is really into baseball (she used to play as a kid) and absolutely loves watching bad movies, no matter the genre (bad horror flicks and cheesy action films are her absolute favourite ones).

39. What do they like to ridicule? What do they find stupid?

answered here!

40. How is their sense of humor? Do they have one?

Cata has a great sense of humor and it’s super easy for her to make people laugh, which is something she is very proud of because she likes it when people are happy! She also laughs at pretty much everything, the silliest the better (which is why she has the time of her life with Hurk and Sharky), though she doesn’t particularly like dark humor because she fails to find it amusing or puns because most of the time it takes her forever to get them sfkuhfds

49. What about voice? Pitch? Strength? Tempo and rhythm of speech? Pronunciation? Accent?

Her voice isn’t particularly deep nor high pitched so it’s somewhere in the middle? She has a very loud voice tho so if she gets excited people have to shush her because she won’t notice she has raised her tone. She always speaks super fast so 90% of the time she gets tongue-tied and has to stop and start over again. She also does have a slight spanish accent when speaking (she sometimes adds an “e” when pronouncing words beginning with an “s” and rolls her “r”s….a lot fksdhufsd) 

50. What are the prevailing facial expressions? Sour? Cheerful? Dominating?

Most of the time she just looks like she has no clue what is going on because her mind drifts off in like 0.5 seconds so she is sometimes just staring at the wall with her mouth slightly open and it looks like she is in another world. The corners of her mouth is also slightly curved upwards by default so it looks like she has a lil smile, you know the :3 emoji???? that’s her, the cat mouth fjsdfs

#dykefaithseed #replies #oc:catalina #this is so long i apologize dhsjfs

[queseraone]

Maybe One Day - Part 21

A collection of snapshots of Jay Halstead as a dad. Co-written with @halsteadpd

Catch up here.

Since Jay did most of the cooking—if it was up to Erin, they would eat take-out far too often—he was the family’s designated grocery shopper. On Saturday mornings, he and Erin would divide and conquer, with Jay taking two children along with him. They had learned from experience that it could be a bit of a nightmare wrangling all four kids at the grocery store. This week, Maddie and Sam accompanied their father, while Ben and Zach stayed home to help Erin clean out the garage.

“Daddy?” Seven-year-old Maddie called out. She had been trailing behind the cart, inevitably getting distracted by something new and exciting in every aisle.

“Yes baby?” Jay replied as he looked up from his shopping list on his phone.

“Can we get these?” Turning around to face his daughter, he noticed her staring at a display of cookies, particularly interested in a package of pink frosted ones.

“If that’s the treat you’d like for today, then go for it.” Jay had a system to avoid temper tantrums at the grocery store. The kids knew that if they behaved, they would get to pick out one special treat—it also helped prevent them from asking for a million things. He watched as Maddie carefully considered her options, an intense look on her face as she focused. After a few seconds, she smiled to herself and grabbed the package off of the shelf, carefully placing it in the cart. “Good choice Mads. Okay, let’s keep going.” Maddie walked just ahead of her father  while he pushed the shopping cart, carrying two-and-a-half-year-old Sam in his arms. Jay added a loaf of bread and a package of bagels to the cart as they left the bakery section and started making their way over to the produce aisles to finish up.

“Daddy!” Sam exclaimed, squirming in his father’s arms.

“What is it, bud?” Realizing that Sam wanted to look at the candy at the end of one of the aisles, Jay carefully set the little boy on his feet. “Remember, you can pick one treat, Sam.” He followed his son over to the display, keeping a close eye on Maddie at the same time.

“Dis one.” Sam picked a cherry lollipop from the shelf and handed it to his dad.

“Okay, are we all done?” Jay looked down as both children nodded. “Let’s go pay then.”

At the checkout, Maddie and Sam began to help their dad transfer all of the items from their shopping cart onto the belt. The toddler quickly lost interest and instead started examining the various things on display in the checkout lane.

As Jay fished his wallet out of his pocket to pay, he glanced over to check on his youngest child. “What did you find there bud?”

“Look Daddy!!” The toddler said, his eyes lit up, excitement filling his voice. He held out his hand, proudly displaying a flashing light-up bouncy ball.

“Wow! That’s really cool!” Jay tried to match his son’s excitement as he loaded the bags into the cart. “But remember you already picked out your treat for today. Maybe you can get the ball next time?” For a split second, Sam frowned and it looked like he was going to protest, but he carefully placed the ball back on the shelf. “Alright, come on guys.”

*

When Jay pulled into the driveway, Ben and Zach emerged from the garage to help unload the truck, Erin following closely behind them.

“Hey Dad, did you get Frosted Flakes?” Zach asked eagerly as he opened the back of the truck.

“Frosted Flakes are dumb, Fruit Loops are way better!” Ben piped in.

“Relax guys, I got both.” Jay rolled his eyes at his oldest children’s bickering as he joined them at the back of the truck.

A moment later, Erin was at his side, leaning in to give him a chaste kiss. “Hey babe, did you remember the… condoms?” She asked quietly, meeting her husband’s eye as she mouthed the last word.

“You bet I did.” Jay smirked as he opened one of the bags to show her the box of Durex XXLs. He took pride in the blush that filled Erin’s cheeks and laughed when she tried to subtly lick her lips. He leaned down to kiss her quickly before slinging his arm around her. “C’mon, let’s get this stuff inside.”

Erin opened the front door and let the kids in ahead of her—each of them carrying a shopping bag. She got them all settled down at the kitchen table for lunch while Jay started putting the groceries away.

When Jay had finished, he bent down to pick up the reusable bags he had discarded onto the floor and noticed a slight bulging in his youngest son’s pocket.

“Sam, what do you have in your pocket?” He watched as the toddler’s eyes grew wide and a guilty look washed across his face.

“N-nuffin.” He blurted out quickly, avoiding eye contact with his father.

“Let me see.” Jay said, holding out his hand as he took a step closer.

“No.” Sam slid out of his seat at the table and tried to make a run for it, heading towards the living room as fast as his little legs would carry him. Unluckily for him, his father’s longer strides allowed him to catch up within seconds, quickly lifting him up off of the floor. “No, no, no, no, no!” The little boy fussed as Jay reached into the little pocket of his jeans.

As soon as Jay felt the rubbery texture in his hand, he knew what it was. It was the flashing bouncy ball that had caught his son’s attention at the checkout lane. “Sam, where did you get this?” He asked as he looked the toddler right in the eyes. Sam curled his lower lip into a pout as he avoided his father’s line of questioning. “Did you take it from the store? Even after I said no?”

The little boy’s eyes immediately filled with tears as he reluctantly nodded his head. Jay looked up toward the kitchen to see Erin standing there, watching with a look of disappointment on her face.

Moving to the living room couch, Jay settled onto the cushions and rubbed the little boy’s back as he started crying into his shoulder. “Shhh, calm down Sammy.”

“I sowwy Daddy!” Sam wailed, his cries somehow growing even louder.

“It’s okay, buddy, relax. Daddy’s not mad, you’re not in trouble.” Jay’s voice was soft and gentle as he tried to soothe his son.

“I don’t wanna go to jail!”

Jay and Erin locked eyes as she sat down on the couch beside them, reaching to help comfort their youngest child, running her fingers through his dark blond curls. “No baby, of course you’re not going to jail. Only bad people go there.”  

“B-but I bad Mommy!”

“Oh sweetie, you’re not bad. You just made a mistake.” Erin explained. “Everyone makes mistakes sometimes, even Mommy and Daddy.” Sam didn’t answer as he continued to sniffle against his father’s strong arms.

“How about we go back to the store and give the ball back? You can tell them you’re sorry?” Jay suggested with a smile. “Sometimes saying sorry can fix things.”

“Really?” The little boy asked, his lip still trembling slightly as he wiped his eyes with his fists.

“Yes, really.”

Sam nodded carefully. “Okay Daddy.”

*

An hour later, they were back at the grocery store. As they made their way inside, Jay carried Sam over to the customer service desk, intent on speaking with the manager. Sam recoiled in Jay’s arms when he saw the man walking towards them a few minutes later.

To Sam, the manager looked scary—he was a tall man with broad shoulders and he was wearing a suit and tie that made him look super important. But as he approached, he quickly smiled at the little boy. “Hi there, I’m Todd, the manager. What can I help you folks with today?”

“Well, we were here earlier getting some groceries and Sam here picked something up without paying for it and he wanted to apologize.” Jay said as bent down to set his son down on his own feet.

Sam clung to his father’s leg as he carefully extended his hand to present the ball, watching as the manager took it from him. “I’m sowwy.”

“Thank you Sam.” Todd replied as he set the ball on the counter behind him. “You know, I think I have something for you for being so honest.” He pulled a roll of stickers out of his pocket as he crouched down to Sam’s level. “Which one would you like?”

The toddler moved his finger to his mouth as he contemplated this big decision. When he had finally made up his mind, he reached out and pointed at a fire truck sticker.

“Good choice!” Todd chuckled, peeling the sticker from the roll and gently pressing it onto the little boy’s hand.

“What do you say, buddy?” Jay leaned down, placing his hands on Sam’s shoulders.

“Tank you.” Sam replied bashfully.

Jay gave the manager a nod of respect as he lifted his son back up into his arms before they made their way back out to the truck.

“See, that wasn’t so bad.” The little boy was still smiling as Jay strapped him into his carseat “Now let’s go home for some lunch.”

*

So we are having a hard time picking which prompt to do next, so please vote for your choice from these options!

Teaching a kid to drive 

Dentist trip 

Coaching hockey with Will 

Catching Ben with a girl in his room 

#writing: maybe one day #maybe one day #daddy jay #queseraone #halsteadpd #linstead au #au but also not au because this will happen #linstead for life™️ #linstead #linstead fanfiction #jay halstead #erin lindsay #chicago pd #cpd fanfiction #chicago pd fanfiction #fluffy

[imagine-loki]

Irked

Title: Irked

Author lokilover9

Chapter 3

Original Imagine: Imagine due to having highly effective telekinesis, Tony Stark seeks you out and hires you. Loki’s been forced to live there by Odin and help on missions when needed, making penance to Midgardians. Prior to moving into the Tower, you learn of his superior and arrogant attitude and upon being introduced, immediately dislike him. Particularly because he looks at you like your his next meal.

Notes: Some words have been purposely misspelled due to the characters alcohol consumption. Silly girls. ;)

That Friday evening, Shandi and Nat were in her apartment getting ready to go out and Nat was doing her makeup.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Shandi asked.

“I think so. This eyeshadow goes great with your big blue eyes.”

“No, I mean letting Loki see me before I go out. If I want him to stop ogling me so rudely, won’t this only encourage him?”

Nat began doing her brows. “Tell me something. Has he touched you inappropriately at all?”

“No. I definitely would have gone to Tony about that, after popping him one of course. God or not.”

“Good girl. Has he said anything rude to you of a sexual nature?”

“No.” Said Shandi.

“Then why does it matter to you what he thinks?”

Her eyes remained closed as Nat kept working. “It doesn’t. I don’t care what he thinks. Why would I? Couldn’t he just show a little decency and not look at me like I’m an object?”

Nat smirked as she applied her blush. “You know you’re far more than just that, right?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I’m not saying what he’s doing is alright Shandi, but he’s probably bored. He can’t irritate any of us because we’re too familiar with his shit and Tony might send him back to Asgard. You’re the new kid on the block and now his present muse.”

She expelled an annoyed sigh. “Perfect. I’ll be glad when he finds another.”

‘Sure you will.’ Nat thought. “Revenge can be sweet, beautiful.” She stated. “Give him a taste of his own medicine and we’ll go out and have a blast.” She fluffed up Shandis hair. “You can look now.”

Shandi opened her eyes. “Holy shit! You’re good at this, thanks!”

“No problem. Now let’s get you dressed and we’ll go tell Clint where to meet us later.”

As usual, Loki was reading in the library when Nat nonchalantly appeared at the door. Black high heels, skin tight, powder blue jeans, a black belt around the waist, short sleeve, snug fitting black top, see through from the breasts down, makeup and hair perfect, she looked beautiful as he glanced up from his pages.

“Seen Clint around?” She asked.

“I believe he’s in the gym.”

“Thanks.”

She no sooner walked away and Loki went back to his book, when hearing Shandis voice from down the hall.

“Natasha!”

He listened as Nat stopped to respond.

“I thought you were holding the elevator beautiful?”

“I was, but didn’t you want to give Clint his phone?”

Loki watched the door as her voice got closer.

“You tossed it into the bag with our flats, I think.”

The two met up right outside the library door and Loki got a good look as they stood talking. Shandi was wearing red high heels, skin tight dark jeans that highlighted the shape of her hips and ass perfectly, a white cotton shirt covered in delicate lace just snug enough in all the right places to highlight her full, d cup breasts and small waist, with narrow straps over the shoulders. Her long, wavy dark hair was styled to one side and makeup so perfect, her steely blue eyes sent a shockwave through Loki when she glanced briefly in his direction. Shandi ignored him, but could feel the intensity of his stare from thirty feet away and her pulse quickened as she spoke with Nat.

“Is this it? I heard it buzz loudly and tried to reach for it while holding the door open, but it stopped.”

Nat took it from her. “It is, thanks. The night awaits us girl, go get that elevator again.”

Shandi turned her back towards Loki when walking away from Nat, giving him a perfect view of her ass before leaving his sights and Nat went in the direction of the gym. Immediately, he moved to the doorway and watched her walk away as Nat quickly peeked around the corner and saw him do it. When Nat passed by again, he made it appear as though he was just leaving the room.

“Clint’s fortunate to have such a lovely date this evening. You look very nice.”

“Thanks. I’ll tell Shandi you said so, she’s my date tonight. Girls night out.” She kept walking, smiling slyly at his curiously raised brow from over her shoulder. “Chow.”

Just as she slid from his sights, Clint came down the hall towards him. “Aren’t you concerned letting your lady go out alone in this massive city?”

“Not that it’s any of your business there Cactus, but no. Nats quite the weapon as you know and her dates pretty clever too. I’m sure they’ll be fine. Nat knows where the best clubs are.”

He walked on and unimpressed, Loki went back into the library. He’d learned since coming to Midgard what going clubbing meant and the thought of many eyes ogling Shandi, oddly Irked him. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do about it.

Nat got in the elevator and the door closed. “Nice touch mentioning the phone buzzing. Are you ready to have some fun?”

“Actually I wasn’t kidding, it did. I’m not sure what I pushed reaching into the bag for it.”

“No worries. I’ll tell Clint later, he’ll figure it out. You did good back there. I could feel the agitation brewing beneath Loki’s skin.”

Shandi leaned against the wall, looking to the ceiling. “Oh great, I’ve agitated The God of Mischief. This was so immature of me. What was I thinking?”

Nat laughed. “Are you always this neurotic? Relax, he’ll get over it.”

“Yes, but aren’t we doing exactly what Tony was? Instigating him?”

“Trust me. Giving Loki a rash is only one way Tony tried instigating him. Have you heard the way those two go at each other? Pssh, they sound like a married couple for fuck sakes. Think of how clever you are. Loki needed magic to prank you and without an ounce of trickery, you did it right back.”

Shandi smiled as the elevator door opened. “You’re right, I did.”

“Never underestimate yourself. Now let’s get a taxi and enjoy the rest of the evening okay? It’s all on me.”

“Nat, you don’t have to…”

“Ah, not another word beautiful. Let’s go.” ~~~~~~~ Upon returning much later, the ladies were passing by Loki’s apartment with their arms around each other, headed towards Shandis.

“My freakin’ feets are killing me.” Said Shandi. “Imma take off me shoesies.”

She stopped unexpectedly, gripping Nats shoulder while trying to remove one and lost her balance. Toppling to the floor, she took Nat with her, landing on her ass with Nat laying sideways on her lap looking away from her.

“Oh oh. Sowwy Natskies.”

Nat turned to face her. “Dafuq is wrong witchyu woman? You couldn’t like..let the hell go first maybe?” As they were struggling to remain upright, Loki opened his door. They glanced up at him, looked back at each other and burst into laughter.

Loki rolled his eyes and leaned against the door frame. “Well then, isn’t this an attractive sight.”

Nat smiled, took Shandis jaw between her fingers and pressed a kissed to her lips with her eyes closed. Shandis widened and Loki smirked at her reaction. Nat ended the kiss, placing her cheek against Shandis lips and looked up at him. “I’m having a moment with my date.” She gestured with her hand that he go back inside. “Be off unespected intruder.”

“That’s un ‘ex’ pected intruder Natskies.” Said Shandi. Then she looked up at Loki. “And yeah. We don’t need spectitters.”

His brows raised. “I see.”

“Nat.” Shandi whispered. “Can you do my shoesies?”

“Suuure girl!” She leaned forwards and clumsily removed Shandis shoes, tossing them at Loki’s legs and one flew past his door. Nat smiled and Shandi shook her head.

“I’m not gettin’ that, you do it.”

“Iss yur problem woman, go for it.”

Shandi stared at her like she had three heads. “Nope.”

At this point, Steve heard the ruckus and opened his door. Nat was still lying sideways on Shandis lap, facing her with her arm over her hip and hand resting on the floor.

Loki looked at Steve and crossed his arms. “Welcome to the party.”

“Nat, what are you doing?” Asked Steve.

She placed a finger to her lips. “Shhhh, in a minute.” Still perpendicular to Shandi, Nat shifted and laid the back of her head on Shandis lap, then lifted her legs and feet in the air towards her reach.

“Do my shoes?”

Loki looked at Steve again. “You missed the romantic kiss, but this may be even more entertaining.”

Shandi, with the tip of her tongue hanging out, reached up to grab Nats foot and pulled her shoe with such force, she spun her partially around on the floor and fell backwards onto it herself. Nat landed on her elbows with her leg hanging over Shandis stomach and started laughing.

Steve approached and picked her up. “Damn Nat. How much vodka did you get into this time and where’s Clint?”

Shandi started laughing while pointing at Nat. “She left him sleepin’ in the car!”

“Yep, did too.” She proudly stated.

“So he joined you did he?” Asked Loki.

“Yep. Hurled huge in the taxi too and the driver gonna sue Tony’s ass.”

“Is that so? I’m sure he’ll be impressed.”

“Wait.” Said Steve. “Who’s car is he in then?”

“His dummy.” Said Nat.

“How did that happen?”

Shandi chuckled while still lying on the floor. “He said he wanted somethin’ from it and made us go..down to the garage there too.”

“Yeah.” Said Nat. “Then the dumbass jus’ crawled into the back seat and..(she dismissively waved her hand)..passed out there so fuck em.’”

“Nat, your language.” Said Steve.

“What about it pops? You wanna go?”

Shandi had closed her eyes while laughing at Nat when two strong hands slipped beneath her arms and quickly lifted her to her feet. She grasped at the green fabric blurred before her, leaning into the firm chest it was attached to.

Steve and Nat went quiet, observing the interaction.

Letting go, Loki stared at her and Shandi froze momentarily in his piercing gaze. “Let me know if you need any further assistance.” He calmly stated.

Shandis heart pounded as she slowly backed away. “No..no I’m good thanks.” She bent over to pick up her one shoe and when losing her balance, Loki grabbed her arm until she gathered it before letting go again. She glanced at him, then to Nat. “Imma go to bed now. Had fun, but need bed. Bye.”

Nat winked at her. “Bye beautiful.”

As Shandi turned the corner, Loki went to re enter his apartment and the door abruptly slammed in face. He shot an angry glare in her direction and Nat smirked.

“Play nice now darling.”

With an unamused sigh, he entered and re slammed the door. Stepping further in, he discovered some pieces of furniture flipped over and chuckled. “Nothing I can’t fix.”

“What was that all about asked Steve?”

“Nuttin.’ Nighty night Cappy.”

After removing her other shoe, Nat walked away and Steve called to her. “Are you actually going to leave Clint in the car?”

“He reeks. You go get ‘em.”

Shandi tossed her shoe to the floor, locked her apartment door and headed towards the bedroom. She couldn’t recall leaving the bedside lamp on, but was too tired to care. After using the washroom, she yanked down her covers in her underwear and top, crawled onto her side and quickly drifted off. Thinking she was dreaming, the softness of her blankets were then dragged up her body and stopped at her waistline. Then ever so slowly, what felt like the tip of a finger softly trailed down her neck, along her shoulder and down half the length of her arm. It ignited a tingling sensation that ran down her spine, fluttering through her very core and she startled from her sleep. Still in a haze, she quickly glanced around, but soon drifted off again.

Loki stood invisible in the doorway of her bedroom thinking of all the ways he wanted to ravish and devour her. ‘Deny it all you like Shandi, you’ll never succeed. I can smell your arousal every time you’re near me and will enjoy marking you as my own.’ He chuckled quietly before leaving. ‘Sleep well darling. It’s only a matter of time.’

#Loki #God of Mischief #Submitted fic #submission #irked #chapter 3 #lokilover9 #telekinesis #tony stark #hires #odin #mission #penance #tower #superior #arrogant #introduced #dislike

[vcg73]

Kadam Fic: Twu Wuv

Combo Prompt: #3 - Dental Misery & #4 - A stupid or embarrassing injury

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Kurt Hummel was a firm believer in good dental hygiene. Brush at least twice a day, thoroughly. Use dental floss and mouthwash on the regular. See the dentist twice a year for a checkup and cleaning; even when doing so took a good chunk out of your meager savings because your insurance is rubbish.

 It’s a personality quirk that Adam has learned to, if not love, then at least tolerate with genuine affection. Even though he isn’t sure that Kurt isn’t putting him on with some of his dental-oriented horror stories. Particularly the one where his school guidance counselor had married a dentist who somehow prompted Britney Spears hallucinations in half the glee club by using bad nitrous oxide. Or the time Kurt had kissed a girl who rinsed her teeth with soda pop, so religiously that he’d actually thought she was using root beer flavored lip balm. ‘She thought Dr Pepper was a dentist, Adam! And I touched that mouth with my mouth!’

 Not that Adam didn’t take care of his own teeth. He was conscientious about brushing, and avoiding too much processed sugar, but he only visited the dentist annually. He’d had good luck up until today. Only one cavity in his whole life, which admittedly had been a doozy that required root canal surgery and a porcelain crown; but that had luckily occurred back home, and while he was still young enough for his dad to be paying the resultant bill.

 Kurt had suffered through impacted wisdom teeth, braces, and a retainer, in addition to the odd glee club related woes. He took no chances with his teeth, and he refused to allow Adam to take any either.

 Which is why now, Adam was extremely reluctant (for probably the first time in their personal history) to speak to his boyfriend. But he needed to let him know that their planned evening of dinner and a trip to sing karaoke at a favorite local hang-out was off the books. Calling was out of the question, and a text seemed cold, so here he was. Standing on Kurt’s doorstep, not knocking.

 But then it was too late for second thoughts. Kurt was already opening the door, as if he had sensed his boyfriend hemming and hawing outside his apartment, and had grown impatient waiting for him to make his entrance.

 “Adam!” Kurt said in surprise, apparently not having psychically divined his presence after all. He laughed a little, trying to hide the kitchen sack he had clearly been about to carry out to the bin. He brushed a hand self-consciously over his chest, drawing attention to the ragged sweatshirt and plain black yoga pants he was attired in. “What are you doing here so early? Our date isn’t until 7 o’clock.”

 “Ah . . .’urt. I, erm . . . I’m vewy sowwy, bu’ I ‘ave to ‘ancel.”

 Kurt frowned, clearly having a little trouble deciphering the words. “Cancel? Why? What’s happened? You sound really odd.”

 He attempted a sheepish smile, only to wince instead when the motion aggravated his sore mouth. “Ow.”

 “Oh, Adam, are you hurt? Why didn’t you tell me!” Kurt drew him into the light and gasped. “Oh my gosh! Your face is all swollen. Did someone hit you? Come inside, sit down!”

 Before Adam knew what was happening, he found himself ushered into Kurt’s flat and settled into his favorite corner of the big comfy sofa, an afghan over his legs in spite of the rather warm day, and Kurt concernedly checking his forehead for fever and muttering about thermometers and compresses, and phoning for a doctor, or perhaps the police.

 “’Urt!” Adam blurted when Kurt seemed poised to start dialing for the National Guard next. “I’m no’ inj’ed! Nobo’y hi’ me. I jus’ bwoke a toof’.”

 Kurt stopped his fussing, looking surprised. “You broke a tooth? How? Adam, were you trying to teach the Apples to play cricket again?”

 It was a fair question. The Apples were lovable and talented people, but athletics did not rank high on the team’s skill-set. Adam’s previous attempts to instruct them had resulted in more than one bruised and bloodied mate.

 “No,” he said with a careful shake of his head. “I, uh . . .”

 “What?”

 He blushed. Now would come the explosion. “Well, I wa’ twyin’ a new wecipe. It cawed fo’ vaniwwa so I got out a new bott’l.  Da cap wa’ 'tuck.”

 Kurt got it immediately. He winced. “It was stuck, so you tried to pry the cap off with your teeth.” Adam nodded. “And I take it the bottle won the fight?”

 He nodded again, hanging his head as he confessed, “Bwoke my po’celain cwown, and cwacked the toof above. I spen’ all afte’noo at th’ den’ist.”

 “And now your mouth is sore and your face is still half numb,” Kurt filled in, smiling a little. “Which explains why you sound like Elmer Fudd with a burned tongue. Poor baby. You stay right there and I’ll fix you some soup and a nice bowl of pudding to eat as soon as the anesthetic wears off a bit. Do you need an ice pack? I have some frozen veggies.”

 Adam could not really feel his lower lip, but he was reasonably certain that he was gaping like a fool at this unexpected sympathy. “You’ no mad at me?”

 “Mad at you?” Kurt clarified, then frowned. “Of course not, why would I be? I mean, trying to chew the cap off a bottle wasn’t the wisest move you could have made, especially when I know you own a perfectly good tool kit, but it’s not like you intended to hurt yourself.”

 Properly chagrined at the reminder that Kurt had given him a very well stocked kit at Christmas, which included a set of pliers that would have done the job handily now that he thought about it, Adam sighed. “I fee’ wike an arse.”

 Kurt squeezed his shoulder. “Don’t. We’ve all done things like that. I once walked out of high school, heading toward the student parking lot while still talking to my best friend over my shoulder, and tumbled right down the north wing staircase. I’d gone down those steps a hundred times, but I completely misjudged my distance because I wasn’t watching where I was going. Wrenched my ankle and skinned up my knee and both palms trying to catch myself. It could have been a lot worse. Somehow I’d managed to do it at a time when none of the goon squad was outside to witness my moment of shame.” He laughed a little. “Though I was less concerned with my reputation or bodily harm than by the fact that I’d ripped the brand new designer jeans I’d only had for two days.”

 Adam huffed a quiet laugh too. That sounded like Kurt all right. “You a’ways warn me to take goo’ care o’ my teef.” He shrugged again with one shoulder, half apologizing.

 “Aww, honey,” Kurt said, giving him a careful kiss on his slightly swollen lips. Adam couldn’t exactly feel it, but he appreciated the gesture anyway. “I wasn’t trying to make you feel guilty. I know you hate to go to the dentist, and I always worry about the people I love, so maybe I got a little control freakish about that. I’m sorry. I clearly had nothing to worry about, because you didn’t hesitate to make an emergency appointment when you needed one.”

 For the first time all day, Adam relaxed a bit. It was true, after all. Kurt only fussed and bothered with those he truly cared about. Being on the receiving end of that tendency was comforting, even when it got a trifle annoying, because it reassured him of how much Kurt really did care. “Gonna be so’ fo’ a bit, but a new cwown is on o’der. Be wight as wain soon.”

 Kurt smiled and ruffled his hair fondly. “Well, until you are, you’ll just have to stick around and let me fuss over you.”

 Content to do so, Adam nodded. He accepted the bag of frozen corn Kurt fetched him from the kitchen freezer, placing it carefully against his swollen jaw. “I wuv you, Urt.”

 “I wuv you too. Now . . . cream of mushroom or cream of potato?”

 The End

#Kadam Week 2017 #Kadam #prompt:dental work #Prompt:Stupid or Embarrassing Injury