#…I really wish My Own Family will just SOOTHE already

[void-tiger]

…surely I can make it ‘til August.

(she says like a pining liar.)

[haoboutyou]

Hi! (^3^)/ I really liked the way you wrote "Mornings With You" and I wanted to request if you can make a version with Seungcheol if you want to. Thankies in advance (●•^-^•●) 💜💜💜

fren u r in luck :D

lucky in love | choi seungcheol

fluff | 730 words | no warnings

an: tbh that wonu fic was actually a cheol fic but then i realised… i have way too many… (i need help)

wonu ver. | kwan ver.

Choi Seungcheol knows that he’s loved. He’s loved by his fans, who greet him with resounding cheers every time he comes on stage. He’s loved by his members, whom he has gone through multiple trials and tribulations by each others’ sides. He’s loved by his family, who have given and will continue to give their unwavering support for everything he wishes to pursue. Most of all, he knows that he’s loved by you.

It’s evident in the way you know his coffee order by heart. In the way your pinkies stay connected even while you’re talking to someone else. He sees it when you unknowingly lean into him in crowded spaces. How you nag at him to take better care of himself and eat his meals on time. How your eyes seem to sparkle a billion times more when you see him walking into the room.

He knows just how much he’s loved by you when he arrives home and spots you knocked out on the living room couch. Seungcheol smiles quietly to himself, removing his shoes aside before carefully walking up to you. The television in front of you is still running, but you’re cross-legged with Kkuma snoozing away in your lap. No doubt you were doing some work before Kkuma deemed herself more important – your laptop is tossed to the other side of the couch, screen dark.

He sinks into the couch next to you, hand outstretched as he leans over to tuck a stray hair behind your ear when Kkuma stirs awake in your lap. The little white dog yaps when she realises her father has returned, bounding over to him instead. He giggles as she attempts to lick his face all over. The sudden noise and movement wake you, sleepily turning over only to be greeted by the sight of your lover doused in dog saliva.

“Hey,” a sleepy smile graces your features, greeted by Seungcheol trying to calm the excited puppy down. He turns to you, a fond smile and an eyebrow raised. Understanding his silent question, you stretch your arms up, leaning into his shoulder as you scrunch your nose. “I wanted to wait for you to come home,” a cheeky grin appears. “Welcome home!”

Oh, he feels his heartstrings being pulled, and suddenly he’s overcome with a wave of love and adoration so strong that his eyes start to water. Kkuma jumps off, her little paws padding off elsewhere as Seungcheol pulls you into his arms.

“I’m home,” he murmurs into your hair. His hand engulfs your own, grip tightening with the sudden proclamation. His brows furrow deeper as he inhales deeply, taking in your familiar comforting scent. “Practice was so hard today – missed you a bit more than usual.”

“Aww, my big baby…” You can’t help but coo. Using your free hand, you smooth the wrinkles between his brows with your thumb. “You did well today, do you wanna talk about it?”

He shakes his head, choosing instead to bury his slumping figure in the crook of your neck.

“Have you eaten?” He nods, fluffy hair tickling you. “Do you want to take a shower first then? I’ll make some chamomile tea for you.”

You gently guide Seungcheol into the bathroom, leaving him to clean himself up while you prepare his promised tea.

Fresh out of the shower and nighttime routine completed, Seungcheol finds you already tucked into bed and follows suit. He wraps himself around you, arms and legs tangling under the sheets. Seungcheol can feel his entire body relax under your soothing touch as you card gentle fingers through his hair.

He’s fighting sleep, especially with you patting his head like a child, when he remembers something he’d been meaning to say.

“I don’t have to go to the company tomorrow.”

“Hmm?” You squint through the darkness, barely making out the twinkle hidden behind his tired eyes.

He smiles, pressing soft kisses by your collarbone. “I’m all yours tomorrow, do you want to do anything?”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

You ponder a little bit more before resting your head back down on his chest. “Eh, it’s tomorrow’s problem. ‘m sleepy now.”

Seungcheol lets out a light chuckle. He pulls the covers higher over your bodies, pressing you impossibly closer to him. He knows he’ll spoil you senseless tomorrow anyway.

“Sounds good. Good night, baby.”

“Good night, Cheollie.”

He hopes you know how much he loves you too.

[corroded-hellfire]

Sweet Child O’ Mine - Eddie Munson x Reader

An As You Wish Story

Summary: When your newborn won’t stop crying, Eddie’s there to comfort his two favorite girls.

Note: I couldn’t get this out of my head so I needed to write this little family.

Words: 2.3k

The shrill cries from the newborn in your arms have brought on your own tears. It’s been over two hours now that the crocodile tears have run and the high-pitched wailing has been coming from the tiny human. Why is she still crying? She won’t eat. She has a clean diaper. She’s cradled in the warmth of your body. What does she want?

“Sweetie, please,” you beg as one of your own tears plops down onto her downy baby hair. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what you want.” 

Eddie slips through the doorway, heel of his hand rubbing one of his eyes. “She being fussy?” 

When you turn to face him, he can see the tears streaming down your face, reflecting off the moonlight shining in the window of the nursery. He’s instantly fully awake, coming over and resting a hand on your lower back. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he says. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

“Y-You have work in the morning,” you say with a sniffle. “You need sleep.”

“So do you, you poor thing.” Eddie runs the back of his fingers over your cheeks, wiping away the moisture. He turns his attention to your cranky daughter in your arms. “And you, little miss. You need sleep, too.”

Another wail bursts from her little mouth and it sends a fresh wave of tears down your face. 

“Eddie, why can’t I do this? Why can’t I soothe my own baby?” 

The pain lacing your words cuts right to Eddie’s heart. “Sweetheart, it’s not your fault,” he assures you. “Luke was the same way as a baby. I’d pace the entire house back and forth for hours while he cried.”

“I don’t know what to do,” you admit, bottom lip trembling. 

“Give her to me,” Eddie says, gently maneuvering the seven-day-old baby into his arms. “Come on, let’s go back to our room.”

You follow your husband, wiping the remaining tears from your face. He sits on the edge of the bed and tugs the bassinet closer with one hand while he holds the precious little girl against his chest with the other. 

“I took her temperature, I checked her diaper, I tried to feed her, and nothing,” you say, wringing your hands together in front of you. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Eddie says. “C’mere, sit next to me.”

When you do, Eddie shifts the baby in his arms so you can both see her little face, all pinched up and red from her tantrum. You can’t help but notice though, that she’s quieted considerably since Eddie took her. 

“Maybe she just doesn’t like me.” You say it so softly because you don’t really want Eddie to hear it. But he does.

“She loves you,” Eddie says. 

“She loves my boobs,” you say.

“Can’t blame her there.” Eddie winks at you and it brings a small smile to your face.

“And I can’t blame her for calming down once you held her. I always feel better in your arms, too.” 

“I have the magic touch, what can I say?”

You rest your head on your husband’s bare shoulder, eyes peering up at your daughter who’s still squirming around. 

“She’s so beautiful,” you whisper as you admire the baby girl. Her eyes are still that newborn blue and the soft tufts of hair on her head are the same exact shade as her father’s. Her little fingers stretch out before closing in a fist once more. 

“Yeah, we made a pretty wonderful little human together, huh?” Eddie presses a soft kiss to her forehead. The way he looks at her makes you feel like you’re falling in love with him all over again. The pure adoration and love in his eyes is enough to make you cry—even if your hormones weren’t driving you wild. 

“You Daddy’s little girl, huh?” Eddie asks and the newborn coos in return, making the pair of you smile. “God, I’m already obsessed with her.”

“Baby, you were obsessed with her the moment you knew I was pregnant,” you remind him. 

The little bundle in his arms rests her head against Eddie’s chest and her eyes finally slip closed. 

“M’stuck now,” Eddie whispers with a chuckle. 

“Wait a few minutes, then put her back in the bassinet,” you say.

“I know that’s what I’m supposed to do, I just don’t want to let go of her,” Eddie admits, gazing down at her. 

“Hmm,” you hum. “What about a compromise? She gets to sleep all nice and cozy in her bassinet while you hold me. Then when she wakes up, it’s her turn again for the magical Eddie cuddles.” 

“Magical Eddie cuddles?” he asks with a soft laugh. “You’re more sleep deprived than I thought.” 

Eddie moves slowly, so as not to disturb the sleeping baby, and gently lays her down in the white frilly bassinet. He breathes a sigh of relief, and you rest your head on his shoulder. Your peace doesn’t last long though, as she starts to wake up, little whines spilling from her lips. Before you can say anything, Eddie starts rocking the bassinet gently and singing softly to your girl.

“She's got a smile that it seems to me

Reminds me of childhood memories

Where everything was as fresh as the bright blue sky.”

Her eyes drift closed again and by the time Eddie finishes singing Sweet Child O’ Mine, she’s fast asleep. 

Both of you are exhausted. Running ragged from keeping up with Ryan and Luke’s schedules with school and sports and band. But even though you both desperately need sleep, your eyes aching to close and your body yearning to lay down, neither of you make a move. Eddie slips his arm around your waist as you both watch small pink lips part as a little gurgle comes out in her sleep. 

“Mm, come on,” Eddie finally says, tearing his eyes away. “Let’s get you some sleep.”

“You too,” you pout. 

“Me, too,” he agrees before taking one more look at your daughter. “Sleep tight, angel.”

“Mommy and Daddy are here if you need us,” you say, peering in on her as well. “We love you so much, Eliza.”

Eddie’s alarm blares and he reflexively reaches over to shut it up before it disturbs the baby. He breathes a sigh of relief when the room remains quiet, eyes staying closed as he takes in this peaceful moment before he has to get up. Your hand rubs across his chest and Eddie blinks his eyes open. He smiles when he sees you letting out an adorable yawn and tugs you closer against his side. 

“Morning, baby,” he murmurs sleepily. 

“Morning, handsome.” You lean up and press a kiss to his cheek. 

“Can't believe she’s still sleeping,” Eddie says as he trails his fingers up and down your side.

“Mm, I know,” you hum. Turning your head over your shoulder to take a peek at your daughter, you do a double take and sit up in alarm.

“What?” Eddie asks, sitting up alongside you.

“She’s not there,” you say.

“What?” Eddie repeats. He throws the blankets off his legs and stands up, walking around the bed to the bassinet. 

You’re scrambling out of the bed, stumbling into the hall and Eddie follows right behind you.

“Okay, but be careful,” you hear Ryan’s voice coming from his room. “Make sure you’ve got her head.”

Popping your head into his doorway, you see Luke sitting on Ryan’s bed, their little sister held carefully in his arms. A sigh of relief leaves your body, and you sag against the door frame. Eddie stands behind you, resting his hands on your shoulders as you watch the boys. 

“She’s so tiny,” Luke says, looking down at her face. Eliza is awake but calm as she stares back up at her brother. Ryan is hovering, like he’s ready to swoop in and take the baby at the first sign of trouble. At twelve years old he’s been the best little helper you could have imagined. Luke was still a little hesitant around the baby, unsure of how to handle such a tiny and fragile person. 

Tears flood your eyes as you watch the boys with their new sister. You never had any doubt about how great they’d be with her but seeing the three of them together like this in the moment, your hormones and emotions overflow. 

“Who do you think she looks most like?” Ryan asks.

Luke tilts his head as his eyes trail over the baby’s delicate features. “I don’t know. She just looks like a baby.”

“I think her mouth looks like Dad’s,” Ryan says. 

“And she has the same color hair,” Luke adds. 

“But,” Eddie says from the doorway, causing both boys to look in your direction. “She’s going to be as beautiful as her mom.”

Luke frowns as he sees you wiping tears from your cheeks. He’d never gotten used to your emotions being all over the place for the past nine months. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Nothing,” you say, shaking your head. “Nothing at all. Has she been crying?”

“I heard her starting to a little while ago,” Ryan says. “So, I went and got her so you could sleep.”

You take a few steps over to your oldest and press kisses against his head. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

Ryan smiles and leans into your side. 

“You got her there, buddy?” Eddie asks as Luke shifts the baby in his arms.

“Yeah,” he says. “She’s just getting a little heavy.”

“She’s like seven pounds,” Ryan says with a laugh. 

Luke glares at his older brother and Eddie steps forward to sit down on the bed with the two younger kids. 

“Can be a lot after a while,” Eddie says. “Want me to take her?”

Luke nods and Eddie carefully takes the baby from him. Eliza fusses a little as she’s moved around but settles quickly as her dad starts to rock her. 

“You boys should start getting ready for school,” you say, hand falling to Ryan’s shoulder. “What do you want for breakfast?”

“Waffles?” Luke asks and you nod. 

“Ry? Waffles good?” He nods and you press another kiss to his head. “Two orders of waffles and an order of milk coming right up.” 

Eliza gurgles, as if knowing you mentioned her breakfast as well. Luke grins and peers down at the baby in his dad’s arms. 

“She’s so cute,” the ten-year-old muses. His curls sway as he leans forward, and Eliza’s gaze catches on them. “She likes my hair. Is she gonna have curly hair, too?”

“Maybe,” Eddie says. “We’ll have to wait and see. Go on and get dressed now.”

Luke stands up and heads out the door, you and Eddie following behind him so Ryan can get changed as well. Eddie bounces Eliza in his arms as the two of you walk into the kitchen, humming when she starts to get fussy. His soothing tone calms her as you pull the frozen waffles out of the freezer and pop them in the toaster.

“Pretty sure she’s just like me,” you say. 

Eddie smiles at you as you grab a bottle of milk that you’d pumped the night before out of the refrigerator. “What makes you say that?”

“When you hold her, she calms down. When you hum or sing to her, she calms down. Sounds just like your wife.”

“My Munson girls,” he says with a grin. 

Once you put the bottle in the microwave, you come over and press a kiss to his cheek. 

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Eliza whines and stretches her hand out in your direction.

“And you too, of course!” Slipping your finger into her hand, she clenches it in her tiny fist. You press kisses against her little knuckles and Eddie watches the two of you with an adoring smile on his face. 

“Don’t wanna go to work,” Eddie says. “Wanna stay home with my girls.”

“Uh uh,” you tut. “The only time I’m her favorite is when you’re not here. Need some bonding time if I want to turn her into a Mama’s girl.”

“Trying to steal her affection, huh?” Eddie teases with a smirk. “Maybe I should take her to work with me.”

“Oh yeah,” you say with a scoff. “Because the sound of your alarm usually bothers her so definitely take her to where you can’t hear yourself think.”

The microwave beeps and you pull the bottle out. Testing the temperature on your wrist, you nod to yourself in satisfaction and grab a burp cloth to toss over your shoulder. Eddie hands her over to you and she happily accepts the bottle, large blue eyes staring up at you as she drinks. 

Eddie lingers in the doorway of the kitchen, leaning against the wall. He knows he should go get dressed and start getting ready for work. But he can’t make himself move as he watches you. The way you smile at Eliza, your hair still messy and bags under your eyes from lack of sleep. How you cradle her close, holding the bottle up for her. His heart thrums against his ribs, eyes misting over. 

The boys come into the room, both dressed for school, and take a seat at the table. The waffles pop up in the toaster and Eddie grabs two plates to toss them on. He sets them down in front of each son as Ryan gets up to get the syrup. 

“You’ve gotta get going,” you tell Eddie. 

“Fine, fine,” Eddie says with a sigh. He starts to walk out of the kitchen but pauses, taking a moment to look back at the four of you.

Ryan and Luke stuffing their faces, bits of sticky syrup getting on their lips. Eliza staring up at her beautiful mom as she enjoys her breakfast bottle. And the woman he wants to share the rest of his life with. A warmth tingles through his body.

In that moment, he knows. He’s never been happier. 

[toomuchracket]

you would cook, i'd do the nappies (birthday party!matty x reader smut)

honeymoon. babymaking. need i say more? enjoy <3

“shit, shit, matty, i'm close, m'so fucking close - oh, fuck!”

your husband groans happily into your core, hands latched onto the sides of your shaking thighs, dragging you back and forth over his face to catch the last of your orgasm. you release your grip on his hair, softly carding your fingers through it as the aftershocks subside, and release your thighs’ grip around his head; matty quietly says “nooooooo” when you climb off him and lie back down, and laughs when you roll your eyes.

for a couple of minutes, the two of you do nothing but peacefully lie side by side and catch your breath, listening to the ocean and the call of seabirds outside. once he's regained his, matty rolls over and rests his head on your bare chest, kissing the soft skin between your tits before he speaks. “morning, wifey.”

“hi, my love,” you pout your lips, and matty meets them with his own immediately. the tang of your own arousal on his lips makes you beam. “thank you for the lovely start to the day.”

“i should be thanking you, darling,” matty kisses you again. “letting me pull you onto my face when you were still half-asleep and all.”

you smile bashfully. “like it when you wake me up like that, baby. you know,” you can feel your cheeks burning. “you could wake me up by, like, actually fucking me, too, if you want.”

matty tilts his head to look at you properly. “really?”

you nod. “i think starting my day full of you would be the ideal way to do so.”

“christ,” matty buries his face into your chest - when he reappears, his pretty face is stretched into a shit-eating grin. “yeah, you're just desperate to be full of me, aren't you? i remember what you said last night, sweetheart.”

“oh my god,” you cover your face in your hands.

“ah! don't you hide from me, mrs healy,” matty pulls your hands from your face and takes them in his own, smiling; his love for you is evident in those beautiful eyes of his, and his excitement to finally be married to you is even more evident in the way he says your shared name. “it was hot as fuck, you telling me you want me to get you pregnant. i want it too, darling - starting a family with you has been a dream of mine for a long time, you know.”

“yeah?”

“yeah,” matty kisses your nose. “a kid that's half you and half me, the best writer and the best frontman in the world? they'd be messianic levels of cool. and good-looking.”

you cackle, stroking his cheek with the side of your finger. “you're an idiot, you know that, yeah?”

“but i'm your idiot.”

“too fucking right, baby,” you beckon matty up to you with your index finger, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and connecting your lips to his. he kisses you back eagerly, whining into your mouth when you bite his lower lip and soothe it with your tongue - his hips begin to grind down into yours as the kiss deepens, want for you clear as the september morning itself. smiling against matty's lips, you reach for his left hand and the cool metal band on his ring finger. “you're mine, and i'm yours. forever.”

“fucking love the thought of that,” matty moans into your open mouth. “fucking love you.”

“i love you,” you whisper, moving your hips up to meet his. “and i want you. please?”

“shit,” comes the gasping reply - much to your irritation, though, matty’s hips slow to a stop. “i wish we could, baby. but we've got a brunch booking to get to.”

you whine. “but you've already eaten!”

matty laughs. “but you haven't! and you need to, darling - can't have my wife not being properly nourished, can i?”

“ugh, fine,” you frown; it drops from your face, though, as you look at your husband's rock-hard dick and an idea pops into your head. “can i have a starter now, though? promise i'll be quick.”

he smirks in response, shifting to lie back against the pillows with his hands behind his head. “by all means, sweet girl.”

***

humming happily, you lean your head back to rest on matty's chest, turning it to look up at him lovingly. “god, you really do have very talented hands.”

“well, i try,” matty pecks your lips, moving said hands from between your thighs so he can wrap his arms around your waist. the warm water of the bath sloshes further over your body as he does. “can't keep them off you, to be honest, sweetheart.”

“good. i don't want you to,” you sit up slightly, moving onto your knees to face your husband, beaming when he moans softly at the sight of your bubble-covered chest. his hands find your hips and pull you close to him - you both laugh at the way your knees slide on the slippery bottom of the bathtub, laughs that fade into a contented silence as you look into each other’s eyes. you rest your arms on his shoulders. “i love you.”

“i love you, my perfect girl,” matty presses his lips to your forehead, then to your own. “shall we get ready for bed now?”

“you're tired?” you giggle, tracing little patterns into your husband's shoulders. “s'pose it has been a long day.”

“no, i just want to take you to bed.”

“then take me,” you smile. matty opens his mouth to say something, but you beat him to it. “yes, that was a deliberate double entendre. who do you think i am?”

matty drops his head and nuzzles it into the crook of your neck; he drags his tongue up it, kissing over your jaw and cheek so he can whisper in your ear. “you’re my wife.”

the combination of matty's words and sultry tone send shivers careening across your body. has anything ever been so erotic? you doubt it.

“fuck,” you whine, hands clutching at the nape of matty's neck and at his side. “yeah, let's go to bed, baby.”

“whatever you want, wifey,” matty kisses you sweetly a final time, releasing his hold on your hips. “stand up for me, please, darling.”

you oblige, using him as leverage to move off your knees and blushing when he looks up at you and says “yeah, i like this view” - matty only laughs and pulls himself up to stand, leaning in to kiss you quickly before stepping out of the tub. he holds his hands out, and you gratefully take them as you step out too. the next little while is spent drying off, which really equates to you and your husband pressed up against each other while wrapped in a single plush towel, tenderly rubbing the other's skin and languidly making out. you've been desperate for matty to fuck you since he woke you up this morning, and these acts of intimacy - of pure love, actually - have you aching for him.

still, though, you prolong going to bed with him; once the two of you are suitably dry, you detach yourself from matty. “you go ahead through, baby, i need a second.”

matty's eyes fill with concern. “you alright, darling?”

“yeah, i'm fine,” you nod, smiling. “can feel a spot developing on my chin - just need to look and see if i packed spot gel or not, so i can put it on before i get… preoccupied.”

he giggles. “the realism of domesticity and married life. amazing. i'll meet you out there, sweetheart.”

“see you in a second, lover.”

a final wink, and matty leaves you alone in the bathroom, closing the door behind him. as soon as it clicks, you crouch and reach to the very back of the cupboard where you've stashed your skincare and makeup bags, not stopping until your fingertips make contact with a smooth cardboard box. carefully, you lift it over the bags, catching your spot gel with your middle finger and lifting it out too - you might have fibbed to matty about the main reason you stayed back in the bathroom, but you weren't kidding about the spot on your chin - and laying everything in your hands on the countertop.

after quickly applying the spot treatment and washing your hands, you lift the lid off the box and pull back the layers of tissue paper inside, revealing the most delicate piece of lingerie you think you've ever seen. it's new and custom-made for you, ivory-coloured and beautiful; the thong and babydoll dress are mostly silk, with ribbons for shoulder straps and a soft chiffon skirt-thing that does absolutely nothing to protect your modesty. you love it dearly, and you have a sneaking suspicion that matty will too. 

he's also going to some effort for tonight, it seems - while you slip into the lingerie, you hear him connect his phone to the sound system in your villa and shuffle through his intimacy playlist, and it makes you smile. when he finally settles on otis redding's these arms of mine (a favourite for slow dancing in the kitchen at home, and also for subsequently having sex on the table), you take a deep breath, pull the claw clip from your hair, and step into the bedroom.

matty doesn't look at you right away, sat at the end of the bed tapping at his phone (likely queuing more songs of this ilk to soundtrack the romantic evening you have ahead of you). but you don't mind, not in the slightest; it just means you get to look at him undisturbed, freshly-tanned skin almost glowing in the dim light of the bedroom and curls made wilder by the steam from the bath. his wedding ring catches the light as he reaches to put his phone on the bedside table, and the sight of it sends a flush of lust right through you.

he's so beautiful. and he's yours.

“hi, darling,” matty starts as he sets the phone down, still not looking at you. “d'you find the- fuck me.”

you giggle as your husband looks at you and your outfit for the first time - half because of his swift change in conversation, half because the way he's looking at you is so overwhelming. 

those eyes of his are filled with nothing short of wonder. it's like you've entranced him, actually. matty makes no attempt to move, or speak, or even blink until you've wandered over to stand in front of him; only when you softly cup his jaw does he move - to smile - and speak. “i am, without a doubt, the luckiest fucker on the planet. look at you, sweetheart.”

“you like my outfit, then?”

“like?!” matty scoffs. he brings his hands to your hips, sighing happily when you card your fingers through his hair. “it's beautiful. and it's so sexy. you look like fuckin, i don't know, aphrodite or something.”

you chuckle, leaning down to kiss his head. “thanks, baby,” you straighten up, and matty's gaze doesn't leave your chest for a second as you do. “oi, healy, my eyes are up here.”

he goes bright red - god, you love that you still have the ability to fluster him - and grins. “sorry, healy - fuck, i love saying that to you - but they were right there! what else was i meant to do? you know i'm obsessed with them.”

“well, do you want to see them now?” you say, hands moving to the ribbons on your shoulders.

matty laughs. “you're eager tonight, wanting to take your pretty outfit off as soon as you put it on.”

“mmm,” you kiss him, pulling back just as his tongue starts to swipe at your lower lip. “just been thinking about having sex with you all day. m'needy.”

“believe me, i know - two orgasms already today, and you want more?” matty tuts, but he can't keep the smile from his face. “don't worry, gorgeous, you'll get them. gonna give you everything you want, my love.”

“everything?”

you don't specify exactly what you mean, but matty nods slowly in understanding anyway, a small smile on his pretty face. without breaking eye contact, he lifts the skirt of your dress up and kisses your bare stomach. “gonna put a baby in there tonight, sweetheart.”

fuck.

“promise?” you say, shakily, breathily, legs on the verge of giving way from the plentiful desire striking between them.

“promise,” matty nods, still pressing gentle kisses to your belly. his hands move to the backs of your knees, tugging you forward to straddle him. “but i think we should do it again tomorrow, just to make sure. and the day after that, and so on, etc etc. you'll be flying home pregnant, i'll make sure of that, sweetheart.”

“hope that won't be too much of an effort for you,” you tease, giggling when he blows a raspberry into your neck - it turns to a full-on cackle when matty leans back and rolls you both over, caging your body into the mattress and continuing to blow raspberries into the bits of your exposed skin that he knows are ticklish.

“nah, it's a treat when you've got a wife as beautiful as i have,” your husband pulls himself up slightly to look in your eyes. there's nothing but love in his gaze, and you know yours is the same. “can i tell you a secret?”

“ooh, yeah.”

matty kisses you deeply, a proper head-spinner of a kiss, before murmuring against your lips. “i love making you cum.”

“that has got to be the worst-kept secret of all time.”

“well, let me tell you another one, then.”

“alright.”

another kiss, less gentle than the last; matty takes your lip between his teeth, dragging it to release as slowly as honey dripping from a spoon. “i really want to make you cum now.”

“again, obvious,” you pant out, body tingling with want. “can feel how hard you are, baby.”

matty laughs breathily, rolling his hips into yours almost as slowly as he released your lip. “and i can feel how wet you are. maybe we should take that pretty underwear off before you ruin it, yeah?”

“and then you'll ruin me?”

“of course, darling,” matty giggles, kissing your nose. “will you shuffle back and get comfy on those pillows, please?”

you nod. “d'you want me to take off my dress first, or…?”

your husband thinks for a second. “may i?”

“of course,” you smile. “just pull the end of the bows on my shoulders, and…”

“obsessed with that. you're like a little gift i get to unwrap,” matty beams. “well, you're already a gift. but you know what i mean. anyway,” he giggles excitedly as he undoes the straps of your lingerie, then moans softly when it falls down enough to reveal your chest. “fuck, you're so hot.”

“back at you, gorgeous,” you wink. “now - please get me naked and get inside me, baby.”

“as you wish, my love. what is it they say, again?” matty’s brow furrows in thought as he carefully pulls your dress and thong down - tapping your hip so you can raise it and he can slide them off - and lays them at the bottom of the bed. “happy wife, happy life?”

“yeah, think so.”

“well, mrs healy,” matty grins, leaning down to make out with you again and wrap your legs around him. “i'm about to make us both really bloody happy.”

you moan when he slides the head of his dick through your folds, gathering the abundant wetness. “sounds good- oh.”

“christ,” matty hisses as he slowly pushes into you, your body rearranging to welcome him home. he smiles down at you once he's bottomed out. “feel fucking perfect, as always.”

“shhhhh,” you giggle, hiding your face in his neck. “you know i can't take compliments. but,” you smirk. “i can take you.”

matty laughs, throwing his head back before kissing yours. “yeah?”

“yeah.”

“well, in that case,” your husband pulls his hips back, almost fully leaving you, before thrusting quickly back in. you sigh happily at the feeling, and matty smiles. “feel good, my love?”

“perfect,” you breathe out, dopamine clouding your brain more and more with each precise thrust of matty's hips. a particularly pointed one has you keening. “oh, do that again, please.”

“this?” matty repeats the movement, over and over, groaning when you cry out and clench around him. “fuck, sweetheart, m'gonna cum if you keep doing that.”

“good.”

he smiles. “no, not yet, it isn't. wanna get my sweet girl off again first before i fill her up.”

there's another gush to your core. matty notices, of course, and laughs slightly deliriously. still fucking you borderline-animalistic, he leans down to take one of your nipples in his mouth, dragging his tongue up your chest and neck so he can talk directly in your ear. “you like me talking about that, darling? how i'm gonna pump you full of me, get you all sticky and dripping, with a baby in your belly? my baby? our baby?”

every muscle in your body is taut with pleasure; your throat is so constricted that you can barely speak, but you manage a whimper. “please. want…”

your brain is too cloudy to finish the rest of the sentence. somewhere in its recesses, you worry that matty will give in to his slight sadistic streak and make you finish it, but luckily, today, he understands. of course, that might be because he's just as fucked out as you are - he certainly looks it, eyes black and heavy, jaw slack, a sheen of sweat glistening on his pretty face. he's gorgeous, though, and he smiles shyly when you tell him as much. “i love you, my girl. gonna make you cum soon, yeah?”

you nod enthusiastically, softly reaching up to caress his face with your left hand. matty turns his head slightly, still fucking you, and kisses your rings, those pretty signifiers of the two of you belonging together and to each other; you smile as he does. “love you.”

“you're so fucking cute,” matty kisses you passionately. his leaning forward lets him thrust deeper inside you, and he moans into your mouth when you suddenly jolt and clench like a vice around him. “that the spot?”

“yeah.”

“in that case, then…” matty leans even further forward, quickly detaching your legs from his waist and resting his elbows beside your head. incongruous with the feral way he's driving his hips into your own and hitting that spot inside you, your husband tenderly brushes your hair from your face and smiles. “feeling good, darling?”

“so good,” you lift your head to kiss him, teeth sinking into his bottom lip in reaction to a particular thrust sending shockwaves through your nervous system. “m'getting close, baby.”

“good girl.”

shit. your eyes roll back in ecstasy at the phrase, and you cling to matty in a wordless plea for him not to stop. wordless, because your jaw is shaking too uncontrollably from the electric pleasure in every nerve ending on your body for you to talk. he knows, though.

and he knows exactly how to blow the fuse. “taking me so fucking well, sweetheart. will you cum for me?” matty coos, fucking you impossibly faster and deeper, dragging whines from your lips. “need to feel you, darling, need you to cum on my dick like a good girl and make me cum, make me fill you up with our baby. you'll do that for me, won't you? cum for me, so i can get you pregnant?”

you will. and you do, so quickly after the words leave his mouth that it would be embarrassing if you weren't so in love; your entire body tenses, so hard your muscles will surely ache tomorrow, and then releases. your limbs quiver, flailing wildly against the mattress, and your chest heaves as you cry out your husband's name. he cries out yours in reply, before crashing his lips onto yours, still erratically fucking into you even as you feel him spurt hot cum deep in your cunt.

matty all but falls on top of you once he's finished, your sweaty, satisfied bodies breathing heavily in rhythm. neither of you make any attempts to move for a while, aside from you gently stroking the back of his head and him pressing soft kisses to your collarbone - neither of you dare, lest you let any cum spill out of you instead of doing what it's designed for. you like being like this with matty, anyway, as physically and emotionally connected to him as possible, and you know he loves it too.

he's the first to move, though, lifting his head to kiss you softly before sitting back up onto his knees as best he can without slipping out of you. “i love you.”

“i love you too,” you smile sleepily, stretching your arms with a yawn. “loved that. i think babymaking is my new favourite kind of sex.”

your husband laughs. “same, definitely,” he smiles, manoeuvring your legs so they're at a 90° angle to the rest of your body. “can i stretch your legs back a little bit, sweetheart? think it'll be the best way to pull out but still keep my cum in you.”

you nod, pulling your legs back enough so your backside lifts off the bed, while matty sucks air in through his teeth and pulls out. he grins. “that actually worked! god, i am so smart. right, let me just run and clean myself up

“ok, baby,” you smile as he speeds to the ensuite, sliding your hands under your backside to keep it up. giggling, you push it up and rest on your elbows in a sort-of shoulder stand. “feel like this is also quite smart, actually.”

matty peers around the doorframe and cackles. “you are literally doing gymnastics to keep my cum inside you, you weirdo.”

“your weirdo,” you tease, as matty comes over and carefully wipes the wetness from your entrance. he flops on the bed beside you, kissing your cheek. “but what can i say? i just really want to have your baby.”

matty rolls onto his side, stroking your cheek. “i want that too, darling,” he murmurs softly. “i really hope it happens soon.”

“i think it will,” you kiss him sweetly, then smirk. “if it's a boy, are we still naming him after you?”

“oh, fuck off.”

[n0vaisnthere]

Hello! Rlly loved your Furina fic!

Could you do an apocalypse, fanfic childe? With Childe's little brother just trying to survive in the apocalypse!

Eto po lubvi

Modern! Childe x GN! reader

Oneshots

Worries about Teucer all the time.

He worries that the entire apocalypse has ruined his chances at just being a kid.

He tries his best to protect him from the harsh realities of the word now.

He has no way to get in contact with his family, so as far as he knows, Teucer is the only real family he has right now.

So he doesn't want to lose him.

"I'm worried about him.." Childe sighed, watching as the fired crackled in the fireplace..

You've been stuck inside a small home in the middle of a big city for almost three months now. It was horde after horde, anytime you wanted to move to a diffrent city, another horde came. At this point, you guys were running low on supplies.

"Why? He looks fine to me.." You said, looking down at the sleeping Teucer who had fallen asleep a couple hours ago. It was always nice to see he had gotten sleep whenever you two couldn't.

"I mean.. I dont know— just the fact he can't really be a kid anymore.." Childe sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. He did his best not to wake up Teucer, who had fallen asleep on his other shoulder.

You gave him a small smile, your hand resting over his own, trying to give him some form of comfort.

"Im sure things will go back to how they used to be soon.." You knew it was just empty promises. He knew that, too. But wishful thinking was better than giving up.

There was a comfortable silence between you two, basking in eachothers presence for a bit.

—★°•

Protective of you as well

Especially when you both go out scavenging in old abandoned stores

Tries to keep you close at all times

Not only were there the dangers of zombies, but there were also the dangers of other survivors

Hes seen first hand the lengths they'd go to surivive out here.

You were walking through the deep freezer. It was slightly ajar, but you hoped there was something still edible in here. It smelt rancid inside the small room. And from the looks of it, everything was rotted already. You sighed, about to leave the room when your heart dropped to your toes. There was a zombie right at the door— skin a freekish green, jaw streatched out abnormally wide. Your hand fumbled, trying to grab your pocket knife when a shot rang out. Your ears were ringing for a moment before you regained your senses. A familiar ginger standing infront of you.

"Are you alright?" He said, his anxious eyes flicking over your body, looking for any injury.

"Ajax.. relax, im okay." You sent him a small smile, resting your hands on his shoulders, trying to sooth his anxiety.

He quickly pulled you into his chest, his hand cradling the back of your head protectivly.

"You have to stop running off like that.." he murmured.. you could hear his heartbeat, how his heat was racing.

—★°•

Tries his best to cook

Of course, supplies is limited

So it isn't the best food..

Look, he tries, that's all that matters.

"Tah-dah! My famous beef jerky and eggs!" Childe grinned, smiling at you and Teucer. Placing two plates infront of you both.

It looked.. diffrent. Small peices of dried beef jerky sprinkled on top of eggs that looked rubbery. Dont judge a book by its cover, I guess..

"It smells delicious, Childe!" You sent him a small smile. Resisting the urge to gag at the smell. Teucer looked at his plate with a slight confusion, poking at the eggs with his fork.

"Is this.. good?" Teucer asked, looking up a Childe with confusion. His fork was barely stabbing through the eggs because of how thick they were.

"Be greatful, you know a lot of people dont have— Hey! Dont dump it behind the couch!" Childe groaned, watching as Teucer tried to sneakily get rid of the food from his plate.

"Whoops!"

—★ MASTERLIST— here

[drewsbuzzcut]

Pictures With Santa

mat barzal x model!fem!reader

a visceral in doses fic

warnings: minor angst and mentions pregnancy (during their breakup before they had Sloane) also this is lightly edited

Christmas 2025

“Do you think he’s going to cry?” Mat questions, nervously rocking an almost 5 month old Nolan. You’re both in a crowded mall, waiting in line to take pictures with Santa. Nolan may be a baby, but you and Mat still want to experience all the firsts.

“He’s asleep, Barzy,” you attempt to soothe him, running a hand over his hoodie clad back.

“Yeah, but you know he’ll wake up the second he realizes we aren’t holding him,” Mat stresses and he truly sounds worried.

“My baby, it’s going to be just fine. If it makes you feel better, you can hold him and we’ll just have to be in the picture,” you cup his cheeks, pressing your body against his to calm him down.

For a moment he seems to settle, his head leaning down to rest against your own, but as you’re about to give him a kiss he gets worked up again.

“What if the camera shutter scares him and he starts crying?”

“Then his first Santa photo will be a funny one,” you tease, earning a scowl from your boyfriend.

“If it’s really bugging you so much, we can leave,” you suggest, knowing that he won’t agree which is why you said it in the first place.

“No way. He’s my little strong man. We’ll get through this,” he states, leaning down to nose at Nolan’s soft cheek.

“We?” You ask, combing your fingers through his hair.

“Yes.” You kiss his little pout. You swear he and Nolan are twins, they pout the same way.

“We’re up, baby,” you say, pushing him ahead.

“Hi, merry Christmas,” Santa greeted you and your boys.

“Hi! Merry Christmas. Is it okay if we just sit next to you, so my boyfriend can hold our son? He’s still napping,” you ask and explain your reasoning.

“It’s no problem.”

You and Mat sit at each side of Santa, sitting on the arms of his large chair. Nolan nestled tightly in Mat’s arms as he tries to adjust him so the camera can get a good view of him. You both smile and wait until the first shutter of the camera. However, after the camera clicks, Nolan immediately wakes up. He’s not crying or cranky, so Mat decides to have him pose for a picture with just himself and Santa.

It’s the cutest picture you’ve ever seen. Nolan is staring up at Santa with wide eyes and his little gummy smile. They both matched as Nolan was dressed in a Santa suit onesie. He wasn’t scared and you were so glad. You bought so many copies, for around the house and to give to your family members.

Christmas 2028

“Sorry I’m late,” Mat says out of breath as he finally meets you in line.

You’re waiting to have the boys take pictures with Santa and Mat was running late with Nolan. You’re officially adding this to the list of things you wish you could avoid. By no means did you want to pretend to be some happy family while you and Mat are split up. You try to focus on the Christmas music playing from the speakers, and the bustling crowd as they’re all full of joy.

“It’s fine,” you mutter, rocking Angel in your arms. He’s a bit frazzled by all the noise in the crowded mall.

“You look pretty,” he compliments you and for once his words aren’t hesitant.

“Mathew, please,” you warn, turning away from him. You’re not necessarily mad at him anymore, but you just want to keep the distance between the two of you. Things are already so messy, you don’t want to complicate things further. Not to mention, if he gets any closer to you, you know he’ll figure out that you’re pregnant and you cannot have that happening right now.

“What? I can’t compliment my wife. It’s not like I’m lying, you look beautiful. You always do, but you’re glowing and I just wanted to tell you,” he explains, wrapping an arm around your stomach to pull your back to his chest.

You quickly pull away, eyes glaring at him.

“Let me remind you that we’re not actually together right now. Please don’t compliment me or touch me. I’m only here because of the boys,” you spit out, turning your head so he doesn’t see the tears lining your eyes.

He stays quiet in either embarrassment or sadness, you don’t bother looking into it.

When it’s finally your turn for pictures, you breathe a sigh of relief.

“So how are we going to pose?” Mat asks, this time hesitantly.

“We’re not posing. Just the boys are going to be in the pictures this year,” you say, trying not to look at Mat’s crestfallen face. It’s tradition for your family to take pictures with Santa all together.

“Why? We’ve never not taken pictures without us in them,” he says in a low tone, but you can tell he’s pissed.

“I’m not going into detail right now. Just get Nolan ready while I get Angel ready,” you say, making sure Angel’s outfit is straightened out.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Seriously, I’m trying really hard here and you’re just ruining everything,” Mat whispers in your ear, trying not to alarm anyone who is nearby.

You turn to him, this time the tears are visible in your eyes. You just stare at him in surprise. You weren’t expecting that from him. You quickly inhale a deep breath, handing Angel over to Santa as Mat does the same with Nolan.

“Okay, boys, smile!” The cameraman says. Nolan is smiling wide, but Angel bursts into tears just as the camera clicks.

“I’ll hold him while you take the picture,” Mat interjects as you’re about to step in to grab your crying baby.

You watch as Mat sits next to Santa, Angel- who’s calm now is sitting on his daddy’s lap with a little gummy smile as he’s getting tickled. Your boys look so handsome, dressed in their Christmas best with their little bow ties. You can’t help but let your eyes roam over Mat. He’s dressed in an all black button up, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his wedding band on display from where his hand rests on Angel’s stomach. His smile is as beautiful as it always is, and if you didn’t know him so well, you wouldn’t have realized that his eyes don’t match the feigned happiness.

The camera clicks again and you discreetly wipe away a tear. Mat is right, you’re ruining everything.

Mat seems to catch your silent breakdown and calls for you to join them. He knows you’re going through it and that his words didn’t particularly help the situation.

You quickly get to them, pick up Nolan and set him on your lap as you all pose together for the final picture. You try not to let the fact that your wedding ring is nowhere to be seen ruin your pictures.

After paying for all your copies, Mat carries both boys back to your car. It’s a silent walk but you expected as much.

You keep to yourself as Mat gets the boys settled in their car seats, talking with Nolan and listening to Angel’s little babbles. He kisses them many times before finally closing the car door and turning to you.

You bid a quick goodbye with an awkward wave, but he stops you from getting into the car. He slightly shoves the door back closed, giving you no choice but to face him.

“What am I doing wrong?” His voice is strained and you’re not sure how long you can stare at him without throwing yourself in his arms. You’re craving his affection.

“What are you talking about?” You stall.

“You know what I’m talking about. If this is still about the fight we had, we can work through it. I truly didn’t mean to offend you and I wish you’d let me help us fix things. I can’t go on like this. You flipped out when I touched you back there and you’ve never done that before and it killed me. Please just let me touch you. Please let me fix us,” he pleads, pulling you into his arms.

For a split second, you start to cave, but then you remember that you’re pregnant. He still doesn’t know and you really don’t want him to figure it out on his own. You know that if he’s close to you for longer than he has been the past couple of months, he’d realize the changes in your body. He just knows you that well. You need to get away from him. There’s a time and place for you to have that talk, and right here, right now isn’t it.

“I’m sorry, Mathew. I need to get home. Please get home safe,” you pull away, pushing a hand into his chest and quickly getting into your car and pulling out of the parking lot.

Mat takes a few moments in the driver’s seat of his car, trying to collect his thoughts. He’s pissed with you for pushing him away and refusing to fix things, and he’s pissed with himself for saying things without thinking about what he’s saying or how he’s saying it. He just wants to hold you. He misses your warmth and the feel of your skin on his. Don’t even get him started with how beautiful you looked. You’re always beautiful to him, of course, but today your skin was glowing and your boobs were peeking out from your top and he just misses you so bad. You actually looked like you usually do when you’re pregnant, and it makes Mat reminisce on simpler times.

Christmas 2029

“Look at my pretty princess,” your husband coos, lifting Sloane in his arms. She scrunches her legs up and you hear Mat gush over her cuteness.

“The pretty princess needs to eat,” you interrupt their moment, bringing Sloane into your arms, pulling down the shoulder of your top and letting her attach to your nipple.

“Look at my sexy wife. I love you,” Mat whispers in your ear, kissing the side of your neck.

“I love you, so much,” you lean up, puckering your lips for a kiss. He quickly obliges.

“Kith!” Angel comes toddling in, arms up so someone can pick him up.

“Yes, kisses for you, too, bub,” Mat gives him a kiss then leans him towards you so you can give him a kiss.

“Ready to see Santa?”

“Anta? No!” AJ giggles, hiding his face in Mat’s neck.

“Oh boy,” you sigh, hoping he doesn’t throw a tantrum.

“I’m going to get them buckled in. You two meet me at the car,” he gives you one last kiss and dashes out the room.

“I don’t remember this being so difficult,” Mat says in line for pictures. You got there thirty minutes ago, but it was packed to the brim. Adding a third kid to the mix makes things that much more complicated. Yes, it’d be easier to hire someone to take these pictures in your home, but you want to keep up the tradition.

“Good thing Sloane is still asleep. If she gets woken up from her nap, she will go ballistic,” you respond.

“Mommy, I don’t want to see Santa,” Nolan says, pouting at you and Mat.

He is still iffy about Santa being that he had a “dream” of you kissing the man in red.

“Honey, I promise it was just a dream. You don’t have to worry,” you assure him.

“Yeah, Nolie bear. Mommy only gives me kisses,” Mat adds.

“And me and Lo and AJ,” Nolan corrects him.

“Yes, baby. Only you guys,” you say and he continues to pout. You try to ignore it, because you don’t want him to start acting bratty about it.

When your photo session rolls around, Nolan is first to get settled. He’s right next to Santa. You and Mat place Sloane and Angel on Santa’s lap. You fix each of your babies’ outfits, making sure their hair isn’t going crazy and that their spirits are bright by tickling their tummies. You make your way to Mat, fixing a strand of his hair and adjusting the collar of his button up. You give him a chaste kiss and quickly sit down and pose next to your husband and on the opposite side of where Nolan is sitting.

The first photo would’ve been perfect, but Nolan is caught glaring at the poor man.

The next one is nice, though, because Nolan finally looks at the camera. However, it’s when you and Mat walk away for the kids to take a photo without you both that things get crazy.

Sloane realizes she isn’t in your or her daddy’s arms, so she starts wailing. Her wails eventually set off Angel, so you now have a picture of two crying babies squirming on Santa’s lap while Nolan is giving him the side eye.

“You kissed my mommy!” Nolan jumps down from where he was seated, arms crossed over his chest.

You gasp in surprise, a hand over your mouth to stop your laugh. Santa looks up at you and Mat, clearly not knowing how to respond.

“No anta! No anta! Mama,” Angel calls out for you, but you and your husband are already picking them up in your arms.

“I am so sorry. They’re a bit wild today,” Mat says to the man as he tries to calm Sloane down by rocking her in his arms.

“Not my first rodeo, so it’s totally fine,” the man says.

Your family moves to the line to pay and pick up your photos, still trying to soothe your children.

“Are you okay, my love?” You look down at Nolan while he grasps your hand tightly.

“I’m sorry. I got angry for a little,” Nolan whispers, eyes downcast.

“I love you, little man,” Mat jumps in when you fail to find the right words. You didn’t feel the need to berate him, but you also just didn’t know what to say.

“I love you, daddy. I love you, mommy.”

“I love you, Nolie bear,” you lean down and press a kiss to his puckered lips.

“Lo and AJ didn’t like Santa either,” Nolan points out.

You and Mat let out a laugh, low enough to not disturb the new found peace of your two little ones.

“No they didn’t, baby,” you giggle.

“These are going to be the best Santa pictures yet,” Mat whispers in your ear, pulling your body into his chest.

“Oh yeah. Angry babies and Santa Claus are a perfect combination. We oughta make them into Christmas cards and send them to everyone,” you joke, smiling wide at the sound of your husband’s laughter. You feel an overwhelming sense of happiness basking in his warmth and his overall presence. A year ago things were rocky, and you weren’t sure how life was going to turn out. You’re just glad that everything is exactly the way it’s supposed to be. You and Mat together with your three babies, just as in love as you two were during your first pictures with Santa.

a/n: Enjoy!!!!

[insuke69]

Scars that make you who you are.

☆ Hobie x FTM trans reader

Transphobia will be blocked <33

★Warnings: Angst, kissing, cursing, body dysmorphia, misgendering mentioned

☆ Rating: 13+

★Symposis: You’re feeling self conscious about your surgery scars, but luckily you have Hobie to help you through it.

☆ 827 Words, Drabble nibble.

You transitioned a while back, hell, most people in your life didn’t really know that you’re trans besides friends who knew you pre-transition and your family, and of course your partner, Hobie, knows too.

You’ve managed to save enough money to be able to afford your top surgery and finally stop wearing binders all the time! You’re comfortable in your own skin for the first time in a while, you finally no longer feel like the boy who had to wear dresses because he was stuck in a feminine body. You were living your life no longer being deadnamed and no longer being referred to with ‘she/her’.

You had your top surgery and had the beautifully flat chest you deserved, yet two crescent lines where the stitches stayed. You remember researching and looking through so many websites stating that it usually takes over six months for the insisions to heal, but thankfully the doctor elaborated, saying that the scars will stay for at least a year, so you knew you had to deal with it.

Besides that, you felt.. Not good. You knew you were lucky to finally have what so many other people wish to afford at all, you finally got rid of those pesky breasts that wouldn’t leave you alone since you were ten. But here you were: shirtless in the mirror with your hands ghosting over your chest.

It’s been a few months, around six months, you’re all healed and aren’t that sore anymore, but your stitches still hurt like if the needle and thread were just stabbed into your sensitive flesh. It already is taking so long for you to heal at all, how the scars have to heal before you can even think about being shirtless comfortably at all? And what about Hobie? What if he isn’t willing to wait with you? Or if-

“Oi, Love, Have you seen my-” Hobie just opened the bathroom door, since you two live together and his gaze was averted towards the sink for what he was looking for, but he paused and looked at your expression before murmuring “ring..”

You look over at him and hesitantly cross your arms over your chest. You haven’t really been topless in front of Hobie since before the surgery, either because you had bandages around you most of the time, or because you didn’t feel confident enough in front of him no matter what the scenario was..

“You alrigh’?” He asked as he walked over to you and settled his hands on your shoulders from behind, his gaze locked with yours in the mirror in front of you two.

His warm hands sooth your skin on your shoulders, relaxing the tense muscles that laid below your flesh. “Nothing, Nothing, just.. I don’t know, my scars feel shitty.”

Hobie’s gaze softened and wrapped his arms around your torso with his hands easing over yours, “Yeah? Why? Does i’ hur’?”

“No, I don’t like them right now, the stitches are healed at least, but they look so shitty.”

As you spoke, Hobie began ghosting gentle kisses on your shoulders and back of your neck, his hands easing yours to relax and to loosen your hold so he could see the remnants of your surgery.

“No way, You’ve go’a be fuckin’ wit’ me.” He murmured almost jokingly as his hands went to your waist and rested on your abdomen from behind, “You’re so handsome, so perfect- tits or nah, scars and all.” You felt his warm breath and lip piercing flush against the side of your neck below your ear. 

His lips closed over your skin and began kissing and sucking your sweet and soft flesh, littering purple bruises on their wake.

You chuckle and tilt your head to the side to give him more access to you, “Sure. Yeah, You’re willing to wait over a year for them to even start to fade?” You asked sarcastically which made Hobie stop kissing your neck and frown at you through the mirror.

His hold hardened and he spun you so you were now facing him and placing a hand on your lower jaw in order to make you look up at him, “I’m willing to wait decades for you just to be able t’see your smile, You won’ be rid of me until I see you adore that boy in the mirror.” 

You smiled at his words, feeling like a warmth in them is sending pure love into your heart, probably because of the pure adoration in his eyes, or the blatant truth he’s saying. Fully confident in himself and reassurance.

He smiles at you before leaning down and kissing your lips, holding you by the hips as he pulled you up onto the bathroom counter. You reciprocate with your same passion while wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Now c’mon, let me adore my man.” Hobie cooed as he eased his hands over your thighs and glide to your knees to spread them.

_____________________

Stopping it right before the smut like a true writer <3

[blushhingblue]

Saturday Sleepovers

Yandere! Olivia Rodrigo x Reader

attempted(?) suicide, manipulation

“You’re coming over tomorrow right?” Olivia asked.

Every Saturday, since the beginning of time, you and Olivia would have a sleepover. These sleepovers were done despite sickness, family problems, and just about any other inconvenience. Though, you were starting to dread these hangouts. You’ve grown out of them and just wished they’d stop.

“Of course i’ll be there,” you replied with half a smile.

As Olivia continued to ramble on about whatever, you noticed Amelia, your crush, behind her. She was talking with her friends and she looked as beautiful as ever. After staring for too long, she finally noticed and motioned you over.

“Hey Olivia?” you interrupted her abruptly.

“What’s up?”

She seemed taken aback.

“I’ll be right back,”

You nervously walked over to Amelia and her group of friends. When you opened your mouth to talk, so did she, which led to an awkward silence.

“So Y/N,” Amelia trailed off.

You looked at her with expectant eyes. Your thumbs subconsciously began to twiddle in a desperate attempt to sooth your nerves.

“I was wondering if you wanted to come over on Saturday,” She asked, her cheeks turning a bright pink.

“Sure, that’d be really nice.”

You couldn’t contain the large smile that spread across your face, stretching from ear to ear. She reciprocated the smile and leaned in to give you a small peck on the cheek.

“Cool!” She giddily said and walked away with her friends.

You were frozen in place, the shock still taking its course throughout your body. Why would Amelia, one of the prettiest and most popular girls in school, have any interest in you whatsoever? You’ve lived on the same street for your whole lives, but now that you can both drive, you don’t see much of each other anymore. Being so deep in your own thoughts, you failed to hear the loud stomps approaching you

“What was that about?” Olivia asked, her voice shaky and upset.

You turned around and saw Olivia, her lip quivering and her eyes welling with tears. Your hand immediately reached for hers, and began rubbing her knuckles with my thumb. You learned this calmed her down when, in elementary school, she fell off the swings.

“Nothing. Amelia just asked me to hang out on…”

Saturday! You completely forgot about Olivia and I’s sleepover whilst in the presence of Amelia.

“Sunday. I’ll go once I wake up after our sleepover,”

You tried to cover up your hesitance, but she was already looking at you with glossy eyes. Confusion was etched deep into her forehead when she furrowed her eyebrows. Olivia seemed to think for a moment before speaking.

“Well I wanted to ask you if you wanted to have a long sleepover this week. Are you seriously going to pick me over her?” Olivia questioned angrily.

This seemed like a trap, so you tried to answer as politely as possible.

“She asked me first and we always hang out.”

This didn’t seem to calm her down at all. If anything, it made her far angrier.

“So what you’re telling me right now is that you don’t even like hanging out with me? We’ve been doing these sleepovers for forever! You mean to tell me that tradition means nothing to you?” She spoke accusatorially.

“No, of course it means a lot to me, but it does get sort of repetitive.”

Her hands started to shake. You glanced worriedly between her and her hands.

“We can hang out all weekend next week. I’ll come over right after my homework on friday and we can drive together to school on Monday,” Y/N suggested, just rambling on hoping some magical word would calm her down.

Her hands stopped shaking, but then balled into fists. With knuckles as white as paper from gripping so hard, she just began to cry.

Olivia had always done this. Whenever you tried to hangout with someone that wasn’t her, she would get so upset that she would cry. It also always happened in public. She made sure you felt obligated to comfort her because if you didn’t everyone would shoot you dirty looks.

This was the 2nd time this week alone. You tried to hangout with your other friend a few days ago and she had a tantrum. When you eventually gave in and let her join, she stuck to your side the entire time and refused to let go. She also shot dirty looks at your friend the entire time.

You could never say no to her when she started to cry. It made your stomach twist in all sorts of uncomfortable ways and made you want to cry yourself. The sound of Olivia’s sobs hurt your heart. You looked at her, unsure of what to do. Looking down, you saw your thumb was still rubbing her knuckles, but it didn’t seem to calm her down this time.

“Olivia, please stop crying,” You begged, voice shaky.

The guilt you felt was overbearing. The way she looked at you with such misery made you want to drop every other plan you curated and stay with her until she felt better. But, at the same time, you knew she was a manipulative person and that if you didn’t take a stand now, you never would.

“I’m not hanging out with you on Sunday,” I paused to build some courage, “or Saturday.”

Her despondent gaze contorted into one that read full blown rage. She didn’t say anything, instead she stomped away. As she left, she mumbled plenty incoherent phrases. You watched her leave, that empty feeling running rampant in your stomach.

That night and the following morning, you didn’t get a single call or text from Olivia. It scared you how she didn’t try to reach out. It made you wonder how she was doing, but you knew that if you called first, she would just suck you in.

Instead, you took a hot shower. The warm water cascading down your body soothed all your nerves and worries. The light feeling as you massaged your scalp. Eventually, you got out and put on a casual outfit. You checked the time and saw it was 12:00. Your phone dinged, and you saw that it was Amelia telling you to come over at 1:00. You ate something, brushed your teeth, and began walking over.

As you made it to Amelia’s front door step and rung her doorbell,your phone began to ding. You pull it out and you saw there were a few texts from Olivia asking what time you were coming over. You rolled your eyes and left her on read.

“Hey Y/N! Good to see you,” Amelia said, wrapping her arms around you.

She smelt fantastic like freshly washed clothes and shampoo. Beckoning you into her home, she led you to her living room.

“Would you like anything to drink or eat?” She asked

“I ate before I came here, but I’d like a glass of water if you don’t mind.”

“Of course.”

Once she left, your phone began to ring. Olivia was calling. You quickly declined, hoping she’d give up. But that wasn’t Olivia. She never gave up when it came to you because no matter the circumstance you had to be glued to her hip. She kept calling and calling.

When Amelia came back, she just sat awkwardly waiting for you to answer. Every time someone began to speak, your phone would ring. Though, for some odd reason, whenever your finger inched to put your phone on silent, a wave of fear came with it.

“Are you sure you don’t want to take that?” Amelia asked uncomfortably.

“No, It’s fine,” You assured her, but you were also secretly trying to assure yourself.

You knew that Olivia was either fuming or crying right now. You tried to continue conversation, but with the guilt in your stomach and the constant ringing of your phone, you couldn’t. Finally when you just couldn’t take it anymore, you answered.

“What do you want, Olivia,” You yelled angrily into the phone.

You heard her soft sobs through the phone and immediately shut up.

“Y/N please come over. I can’t live without you,” She muffled through her harsh sobs.

“Speak to me Olivia. What’s wrong?”

“You chose her over me. I’m in my bathroom now looking at all these pills, Y/N. I’m gonna kill myself and it’s all going to be your fault,”

You hung up the phone.

“Amelia, I have to go!” You yelled bolting out of the house.

You quickly ran down the street and to your house. As you jumped into your car and sped to Olivia’s, you prayed that she wouldn’t make any rash decisions. Although she drove you crazy and was far too clingy for her own good, she was still your best friend and you loved her.

Olivia didn’t live too far. About 10 minutes driving, but right now, it felt like an eternity. Unbeknownst to you, Olivia watched you speed into her driveway with a small, devious smile.

Though you didn’t waste any time knocking. Instead, you barged right in and screamed, “Olivia! Where are you?” You were met with silence. You scrambled hastily around all the bathrooms in her house until one didn’t open.

“Olivia, please let me in,” you pleaded, unsure of whether or not she was conscious or even alive.

That was until there was a slight jolt at the door knob. You twisted it and were met with Olivia sitting on the floor, her body lazily thrown against the wall. She was surrounded by countless yellow pill bottles. You kicked them out of the way and immediately sat by her side, your hand instinctively grabbing hers.

“How do you feel?” You asked.

“Drowsy,” Olivia responded, her body shaking.

“Should I call someone?”

She just shook her head in disapproval. You wrapped your arms around her body and repeatedly kissed her on the head. Little did you know, she had that same evil smile painted across her face.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t come over,” You apologized profusely.

You whispered countless “I’m sorry’s” into her hair. A few tear drops escaped from your eyes, wetting her scalp.

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Olivia.”

“No, Y/N, I love you. Like really love you,” she expressed, her voice muffled.

Your stomach churned slightly, fully understanding what she meant.

“Now isn’t a good time for this. Why don’t we go lay down?” You suggested.

Olivia nodded against your shoulder, knowing her words were lingering in your head. You stood up, and helped her up. She leaned against you as you led her to her bedroom.

“I’m going to grab you a glass of water, okay? Lay down,” You said, tucking her in and turning on the television.

She nodded, a faint smile on her face. As you left her bedroom and began to prepare the glass of water, you figured you should call Amelia and apologize. Though, like clockwork, as soon as your phone began to ring, Olivia screamed your name. You bolted upstairs, cup in hand, and rushed to her side.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” You questioned worriedly

“I heard your phone ringing. I don’t appreciate you calling other girls right now especially when i need you,” She angrily said, grabbing you by the neck of your t-shirt and pulling you into her bed.

A wave of guilt washed over you, and you avoided eye contact with her shamefully. She allowed you to get comfortable before crawling on top of you and cuddling your body. Her grip was tight and unforgiving. You wondered how she had so much strength despite the weakness she portrayed earlier.

Suddenly, you felt a pair of lips pecking along your jawline. You winced uncomfortably, knowing Olivia’s stubborn personality would soon revisit the confession from earlier. You figured this was the introduction to it.

Olivia was stunning. She had beautiful brown eyes and long, brown hair. Not to mention she was funny, and extremely down-to-earth. Almost all of the boys at school had a crush on her and had tried to ask her out at least once. But she always said the same thing, “I’m waiting on someone”. She was practically all you could want in a woman, but she was just your best friend.

“Can I tell you something?” Olivia asked in a whisper against your ear.

You gulped and nodded, her breath tickling your neck.

“When you told me you didn’t want to hang out with me today, it made me realize how I can’t afford to lose you. Of course, I always knew I was in love with you ever since elementary school, but I was never really sure how far I would go to cherish our love. That was until Amelia came around. She opened my eyes to how much I was capable of and I realized I would go as far as to kill for you.” Olivia confessed, her watery eyes boring into yours.

You were at a loss for words. You felt guilty that she had felt these unreciprocated feelings for so long and that she had to constantly suffer through all your meaningless crushes. But you also felt afraid. Afraid of what she could do after coming to this “realization” and even afraid for your own safety.

“Olivia, I think I should go,”

She laughed manically for a moment, before her giggles turned into sobs.

“I just poured my heart out to you and you want to leave me again? How about no! I’m sick of you using me as a stepping stool knowing that I would do anything for you! It’s time for me to be selfish!” She shouted through sobs.

You weren’t exactly sure what that meant, but you weren’t too keen on finding out. You shoved her off of you, and rushed for the door. Though, she was quick on her feet and jumped onto your back. She jerked your neck back, pulling you onto your back. Only one hand left your neck, and the other reached into her pocket. Out she pulled a sharp blade.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Y/N!” She shouted, her tears dripping onto you.

“I know you don’t Olivia. Just drop the knife,”

She shook her head.

“It’s so unfair, Y/N! i’m the full package! I have my pick! Boys and girls drop to my feet just for a chance with me. Yet, i’m stuck on you! Why you? You’re not all that special and despite that I’ve loved you since we were little kids,” She put the blade up to your neck, her hand shaking violently out of anger.

“Did you even take any pills? Were you ever going to hurt yourself,”

“If you didn’t come, I would’ve. But you did come and that’s why I love you so much,”

“What do you were just going to lie to me? You really acted sick!”

“Y/N, don’t be so stupid! You knew all along. You knew I didn’t really take any pills. You also knew that I’ve loved you since the moment I saw you!”

You shook your head and yelled, “Don’t put words in my mouth!”

Olivia laughed and began to caress your cheek with her soft hand while the other was still pressed harshly against your neck, clenching a knife.

“You know I’ve still never had my first kiss. I’ve been waiting for you,” Olivia admitted, her cheeks turning a pink hue.

You were terrified at how fast she could switch her demeanor.

“I mean I haven’t had any practice, but i’m sure you could show me how to do it,” She suggested shyly, struggling to hold eye contact.

While you didn’t want to, you thought it could serve as a distraction to possibly disarm her. You nodded and connected your lips. They were surprising soft and tasted like chapstick, but had a small salty taste due to her tears. She pulled away and looked expectantly at you, waiting for your approval.

“You could use a little work, but it’s not bad for your first time,” You lied, biting your tongue.

She smiled widely, showing you her pearly white teeth.

“You’re going to have to take away a few of my other firsts. I’ve waited too long to stop at kissing,”

[mountainscouts]

I think Gary shouldn't be just a perfect overachiever gentleman that soothes Stan's depression. I don't dislike it but I also want to see Gary not have everything in his life in order, allow him to get angry, question Mormonism (racism, homophobia), pressure him with familial expectations (don't set bad example for his siblings, must marry a woman, etc), let him cut loose and party. Conversely, Stan isn't 24/7 doom+gloom. He can be stable, proactive and self-reflecting even before dating Gary.

WHEW. OKAY THIS ASK HAS BEEN SITTING IN MY ASK BOX FOR A WHILE NOW BECAUSE ITS JUST SO. SO PERFECT. where do i even begin?

okay, i have such a specific view of gary that is essentially this, seriously. when it comes to stary, people tend to gloss over gary as a character and while i can't really blame them for doing that, considering that gary is just a guy who has in total less than 3 minutes of speaking roles in his only episode, it's something i've noticed. while i wish that more people would explore him as a character with as much depth as stan, i've kinda just accepted that it won't ever be the case. BUT because of that, i've sort of hyper focused on these types of details about gary and built on his character more in that regard, going that exact direction you went in your ask.

gary, to me, is a well-polished & put together mess when he gets older. the church is such a fascinating and important facet of his life, and the fact that his character is so inherently & quintessentially mormon is a very accurate portrayal of a lot of mormons from SLC. with that, any type of interpretation of him that deviates from typical norms and values in the church is actually asking for a lot of character dissection. i understand that a lot of people would rather not, but i WOULD. and HAVE BEEN...

gary to me is gay, and i can't really see him otherwise. he finds this out– or at least has a feeling that he might be at a younger age, so already his sexuality giving him leeway in questioning the church and its beliefs. this starts leading him to be more self-aware of his societal and familial role, juggling his own beliefs, the church's, and by extension his family's. with this baggage, i guess, i'm sure it'll extend beyond that to his sense of self. what does he want to be? what does he want to make of himself? how can he feel so trapped, but by the loving arms of his family? so much to build and unpack here!!

speaking of his family, i truly believe they're ignorant folk, conservative, and traditional (inadvertently confirmed by how many children they have and how they all interact with eachother- even if that's just a joke, it proves my point that the harrisons are a decent portrayal of mormon families yet again). gary, being the middle child and if one wanted to write him as "the special one", makes for these dilemmas even more interesting honestly. from setting a good precedent for his siblings, following the path of his older ones, cramming extra-curricular activities as a means to both please his parents and even distract himself from his issues, to having to attend church meetings— it all piles up, all while his own contractions are fed more and more at the incessant exposure of daily life.

the reason why he's considered a polished mess is because he's your typical "looks like he has everything under control, actually under insane amounts of stress" character. i firmly believe that the harrisons have no ill-will, but i think the way that they raised their children falls strongly on the line of emotional neglect. their children were never taught any life lessons that'd help actually help them like- you know, regulating emotions. i've mentioned this in a previous post (and also elaborated on gary showing anger specifically) but i personally believe that while gary is a kind, and generous person to his core, there is an incredible amount of repression deep within him— a product of being raised with many, "boys dont cry"s, "love thy neighbor"s, and "forgive and forget"s. kindness specifically is actually an incredibly important aspect to mormonism, as it's a key part of the lifelong and ever present journey to celestial afterlife. but that's the thing: objectively speaking– this is just a way of control.

so when one wants to break free from this way of thinking, to lose this control, to break away from all they've known— their very livelihood— it's not going to come in the form of an overnight epiphany. in gary's case, considering how tight he is with his family versus his budding progressive views and drive to have more free reign over his self, it's going to be one hell of a struggle.

to touch on your point of him not getting everything he wants, i think that's another fundamental reason why he would question his standing in the church as well— depending on What he doesn't get. perhaps he doesn't want to serve his mission, but does so anyways. or maybe he simply had a bad day, but he can't allow himself to get upset, convincing himself that "things could be worse" as a way to make himself feel better, barring himself from healthily expressing his feelings. repeatedly saying "its okay" is going to be his downfall lol

and, i too would love to see him cut loose and party eventually- without a second thought that he'd be disappointing anyone.

okay now for stan. oh yeah that guy— no i'm just kidding, i'm also actually very picky about stan as well. :P most of your points about him align perfectly with mine. i don't like it when people woobify him to a point where his only/a major part of his character is his pessimism and depression, and while they are a part of him, it seems to be a big theme when people talk about stary. i definitely love the whole "i can fix him" thing gary has with him (because of gary's primordial urge to "fix" things and be persistent until he can't anymore) but that's definitely not all that they are!! (also gary's initial thought of "fixing" stan would already be faulty from the get-go anyways- but he will learn)

with stan, i think people tend to make him already pretty "helpless" in general fandom, and while he has shown to be more vulnerable than his peers, hes still pretty resilient. i do think that he would need a little bit of a push when it comes to his mental health, but that's only because he's found a way to cope with these issues- none of which are truly healthy. he's moreso content with being in a stalemate with himself and while he does wish he could do more, it takes a lot out of him to get out his more personal comfort zones.

kinda gives him another reason as to why him and gary are narrative foils, i just realized :P!!

but yeah!! i really loved this ask, and i probably really should indulge more in this aspect of gary >_<. its something i truly think about, and those who are close to me DEFINITELY know this! thank you for the ask and sorry it took so dang long haha. also thank you to those who read this behemoth, genuinely didnt expect to yap this much

[mncxbe]

Hello! I was wondering if I could request the Hunting Dog Bois (Jōno, Tecchou, and Tachihara) reacting to their SO saying that they want a baby?

Thank you for your time! :)

Omg yes absolutely this was so nice to write. I hope you like it and thanks for requesting♡ I got a bit silly at Tecchou's part hehe

10:23☆

𝑱ō𝒏𝒐, 𝑻𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂, 𝑻𝒆𝒄𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒖 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: fluff♡/ implied smut?/ comfort

○☆° // 𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: season 4 spoilers

𝑱ō𝒏𝒐

he teases you so much at first but when he realizes you're serious he's a bit reluctant

it's not like he doesn't want to have a kid with you, but he doesn't get to spend much time with you as it is. the kid would only make things more complicated // also doesn't think he's ready for such a responsibility

if he agrees I feel like he'd be more excited about the process of making the baby than the baby itself

Your partner didn't have many free days, but when he finally got one he always spent it with you. Fancy dinners, coffee shop dates, simple hangouts at home you name it; Jōno didn't care what you did as long as you were together. He adored your high spirits and was so smitten with you that only hearing the fast thumping of your heart when he hugged you made him forget all his worries.

But recently he started noticing a strange change in your behaviour: whenever you passed by a crying baby your breath would hitch. Jono didn't pay much attention to this since he assumed that you were simply annoyed by those little creatures. Well, that was until you popped the question.

"Hey Sai, I want to have a baby" you said one day. You were both laying on the cushioned couch in your shared apartment, your head nestled against his chest.

"What's that?" he asked, raising a brow in confusion.

"I said I want to have a baby"

"What like buy one? Why not get a kitten instead?" he teased. Jono's grin slowly began to fade when he saw the serious look on your face.

"I'm not joking, Sai. We've been together for such a long time and I'd like us to have a kid. What do you say?"

Your partner shrugged, gently peeling you off of him. "I mean, if you really want to... To me it sounds like a bother."

"What do you mean by that?" you cried out in dismay, clearly not expecting this reaction from him.

The knot in Jono's chest tightened at the sound of your shaky voice. The last thing he wanted was to upset you. It's not like he didn't want to start a family with you, he just wished he could have you all to himself on his free days.

"Well" he began in the most soothing voice possible "I guess I don't want us to lose what we have now. I enjoy how peaceful our home is and having a baby will just stir things up and to be frank, work is already chaotic enough. I don't think I could handle being a dad too."

His confession made your heart melt, all the tension built between the two of you dissipating in a matter of seconds.

"Oh Sai." you sighed, one of your hands sliding up to cup his cheek "I know that a kid will change things, but no matter what we'll still love eachother. As long as we're together I promise, we got this. And of course we can wait a few more years if you're not ready. I just want you to be happy, my love"

Now it was Jono's turn to be emotional. He gently removed your hands from his face and gave them a little squeez.

"Thanks dear. I know it'll be alright, but I'd like to wait a few more months at least, ok?"

"Sure" you smiled reassuringly "But who knew that the strongest Hunting Dog would be scared of fatherhood." You laughed at your own remark, gaining a mischevious grin from your partner.

"Quit teasing, darling. Or we may end up having that kid sooner than planned" he said, giving you a wink.

𝑻𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂

he's surprised to say the least but also thrilled

you're the one for him and he definitely wants to have a baby with you, but he can't help but worry

the loss of his brother still affects him and he cannot help but wonder if he'll be able to protect the two of you; after all, if the Mafia finds out he's just a spy, who knows what they'll do...

long story short he worries a lot but after you talk things out and reassure him, he'll agree

he'd literally be the most caring dad ever, always taking your kid to the zoo or to ride the ferris wheel♡

"Honey, I'm home" said your boyfriend as he entered your condo.

When you heard his voice you immediately abandoned the book you were reading and rushed to the hallway; and there he was, standing in front of the door with a bouchet of light pink hyacinths in his hands. Not caring about the flowers you jumped in his arms, embracing him tightly and he eagerly returned a hug.

"I missed you so much Michi" you cooed, showering him with saccherine kisses.

"Hey, enough love" he chuckled as he gently pulled you away "How have you been? I hope my pretty girl had a great day."

"Yes I did, work was great but honestly I was so excited that you'd come home tonight."

"Me too, princess" he said as he untied his shoes and took off his crimson cape. Your boyfriend hasn't been around that much since he infiltrated the Port Mafia. He knew the job was risky and in the event he got caught, it would be best if the mafiosi didn't know about your existence; they would surely hurt you as a way of punishing him. So Tachihara had bought a second apartment where he lived during these interventions. He only came home when he was working with the Hunting Dogs.

"Sooo honey I was wondering if we could talk about something tonight." you inquired, toying with a stray strand hair.

"Of course we can. Did something happen?"

"Oh no nothing. I just had a question for you."

Your boyfriend took a step forward and seized your hips, pulling you closer to him. "Alright then tell me. What is this all about?"

"Ok so" you began, trying your best to hide the slight blush that was spreading on your cheeks "I wanted to ask you if you'd like to have a baby with me."

Tachihara's face dropped when he heard your proposal. For a second you thought he was upset about your idea, but before you could apologize the lovesick smile returned to his lips "I uh well I don't know what to say about that" he stuttered, trying to avoid meeting your gaze.

"I mean it would be amazing. I'd love to start a family with you" he continued as he scratched the back of his head. "But don't you think we're a bit too young for that?"

"Oh not now Michi. We can wait a few more years but we should start saving up for a crib and all that, you know? Baby stuff are quite expensive"

"Yea, I guess you're right" he said before going silent, a shadow of doubt clouding his eyes.

"What is it, love?" you eventually asked him.

"It may sound a bit silly but do you think I'm fit for being a dad?"

You quickly took a step back "What do you mean by that? Of course you'd be a great dad". But your words didn't reassure him too much. You could tell there were things still left unsaid so you asked him to take a seat on the couch while you made some tea for the two of you.

A few minuted later you joined your partner on your sofa, two cups of steaming orange tea in your hands.

"Ok now tell me, Michi. What's bothering you?"

He took your hands in his, his amber eyes fixated on the bamboo floor and after taking a deep breath he started talking:

"I've always regretted not being able to save my brother. If only I had been a few years older I could've joined him in the army and maybe things would've been different. I guess I'm just worried about having a kid. What if something happens and I'm not there to protect you two?"

It hurt to hear him say such things; he sounded so defeated. You gently placed your index finger under his chin, forcing him to meet your gaze. "Don't worry about that dear." you said in your softest voice "It's all going to be fine. We can have the kid after you finish your undercover mission. Plus, not only will our kid have an awesome dad, bur also a badass mom. I can kick ass too, never forget that."

Tachihara chuckled at your words "I know love, you're truly amazing. Thanks for listening to me, it means a lot."

"No problem, love"

He swiftly wrapped his arms around you, resting his head on your chest as you playfully ruffled his hair. Now that things were sorted out he could finally relax in the comfort of your embrace; his eyelids were getting heavier and he felt as if he was under a spell.

"I love you, Michi" you chanted, your voice lulling him to sleep.

He only mumbled in response, placing a tender kiss on your neck. "Love you too, sugar"

𝑻𝒆𝒄𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒖

the moment he hears your proposal he drops to his knees and starts giving one of his speeches

he promises he'll be a good father and a faithful husband and will do anything for you; he'll fight to ensure a safe future for your baby and all that

so yea he doesn't oppose to the idea, he's actually quite excited about it. He already he's going to spend the rest of his life with you so why not start a family?

you make him swear that he won't try to feed the kid his strange food combinations

You would often joke with your boyfriend about how you wanted him to give you his babies. And how could you not? He looked so attractive doing literally anything that you couldn't help yourself. You loved how caring and innocent he was, how he'd always make you dinner on weekends (actually refraining from trying any strange combinations) and plan the nicest dates; he was always there when you needed a shoulder to cry on and was eternally devoted to you. His looks were just a bonus.

But when you saw him buying an ice cream for the neighbour's kid one summer morning, you realized that you may actually want to have a kid with him.

"Say, darling, can I ask you something?" you inquired as he stepped foot in your apartment. He had just finished running and glistening beads of sweat were sticking to the tips of his hair.

"Yes, my love. What is it?"

"You know how I always ask you to give me your babies?"

"Ah yes" he chuckled, taking a sip of water from his hydro flask "You say that quite a lot"

"Yea well I think I'd actually like to start a family with you" you said coyly, flashing him your most alluring smile.

Your boyfriend, who was getting ready to drink some more water, stopped dead in his tracks. He suddenly placed the steel container on the countertop and made his way to you, holding your hands as your eyes met.

"My love, I would be honoured to be the father of your child and start a family with you. I swear on my sword that I will be a devoted husband and I will protect our child with my life."

He had such a serious expression that you couldn't contain your laughter.

"Oh Hiro you're something else, did you know that?" you teased, hoping to get a reaction out of him. But you boyfriend simply stood there holding your hands, his lips pressed in a tight line.

"I'm serious, Y/N. I know you're the only woman I'll ever love, my heart is yours. I do want to have a baby with you."

His gaze was so intense you felt your knees wobble. You opened your mouth, fumbling for words when he quickly captured your lips in a tender kiss. It felt so much more intimate than any other kiss you'd shared before.

"Did you really mean what you said?" you asked once he pulled away, his face still inches from yours.

Tecchou nodded, his eyes glimmering with adoration. "Of course."

"Well then it's settled, we'll have a kid. Let's get to it" you announced triumphantly as you began dragging him towards the bedroom. Your boyfriend tried to protest but the grip you had on his arm was unshakeable.

"But I want to marry you first." he whined, making you cease your motion. "Y/N will you be my wife?"

He spoke the words so tenderly, almost as if they were made of gold leaf. Needless to say you said yes; you've been a couple for more than four years now and you were ready to start this new chapter of your life together.

Then pulled him into a passionate kiss and he took the hint; swiftly picking you up he made his way to your bedroom, closing the door behind.

[musicallisto]

clara my dearest role model, clara my devoted friend, clara my delicate muse... i am sending this right as i'm finishing the final chapter of romancing mister bridgerton on audiobook, so forgive me for being so inexcusably brief </3. might i request one of these 💿 lovely surprises with literally any f1 driver, i want to see a violent characterization of these loser men from my most respected author friend yuki tsunoda? i am, in all things, horribly on brand.

· · · · ♡ EXILE (yt22)

… starring yuki tsunoda x f!reader ... based on exile by taylor swift ft. bon iver ... 1.2k words ... in which yuki tsunoda, fresh from his formula 1 debut, returns to a tokyo both familiar and foreign, where ghosts and feelings still linger. ... i really hope you enjoy this my darling olive!! when i saw i had pulled exile out of all songs i freaked out a little,, this song has gotten me through a lot so i had to pay homage </3 happy august 1st to those who celebrate!!!

"I can see you staring, honey

Like he's just your understudy

Like you'd get your knuckles bloody for me

𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐒𝐓, 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐇𝐄 comes to Tokyo, always brings her heat with her.

More than the temperatures, it's a joyous sort of effervescence that coils around the street corners, trickling down like the first monsoon rains. Day after day, Tokyo attires itself in the most festive of summer colors, until all of a sudden all the festivals, open-air markets, and traditional dances flood the city like budding poppies. Here, rows upon rows of sunflowers sway to the soft breeze in Kiyose; over there paper lanterns float off into the night sky over the Sumida river, each cradling an unspoken wish.

To Yuki, August is always the best time to return to the capital. Or rather, the second best; nothing beats the cherry blossoms of late April, but late April is home for Imola now, and it's been years, really, since he last saw the sakura of home.

He doesn't mind the heat—he never did, and his Japanese friends joke that he was already a fiery character before his time in the West made him brazen. He's always glad to be back home over the summer break. Even more so since he debuted in Formula 1 six months prior.

It's Yuki's first time returning to Tokyo since he started racing with AlphaTauri, and one of his increasingly rare visits to his homeland. He's been eagerly anticipating the break; to recharge, certainly, and most importantly to meet with his family. In the cloudy skies the plane traverses, Yuki can see his elders' crinkled eyes, beaming with pride as he, the picture of practiced humility, answers every question about the sport, about Italy, about the world he made it big in. It matters not they won't understand much about racecars, or the FIA—he's coming home aureoled in a gladiator's glory. Honor to his family, to the Tsunoda bloodline! He smiles to himself as the plane touches down on the tarmac.

Yet as Yuki steps into the urban jungle he's so ardently missed… he finds the city changed. Not transformed, entirely, but… almost misplaced. As if street names and trees and playground slides have been shuffled over his time abroad, all of them still there but in a disposition unknown to him. Sure, he is a child of the suburbs, and Tokyo a fidgety creature—maybe Italy's stone roads have eroded his memory. But wasn't there an old laundromat on this corner, on which the papier mâché dragons would cast fantastical shadows as they snaked down the street? And the brand new KFC—this was a pet store, where he'd press his nose against the glass to watch the colorful fish and guinea pigs until his mother forcibly dragged him away.

This is still home, he tells himself to soothe the unease away. Things change, but they don't leave you behind, he repeats as he checks his phone to make sure he's going in the right direction.

They're all little details. Like when he stops at a food vendor's cart and has to repeat his order twice, taken aback by the sound of his very own mother tongue coming out of his mouth. Six months without speaking Japanese to another person, other than the odd calls to his parents, have left his voice chalky. The woman looks at him for a brief second, quizzical, but hands him the sugary buns; he thanks her, seamlessly this time, and it's all back to normal. Yuki Tsunoda is home.

They're all little details until they aren't. Until he turns on his heels, biting into the snack, and catches sight of her.

It's unmistakable, and it's her. Even with the facemask, it's the same silky hair and smooth skin, same little bounce to her step, and even the same linen pants she used to wear in high school. Tokyo's immutable certainty on the other side of the street. Y/N.

Yuki stops dead in his tracks as their eyes meet, thirty feet away, and a flash of recognition has her almost recoiling, but she holds firm onto the hand she's holding and stays immobile. A man's hand; he's a little taller than Yuki, black hair in a neat middle part and dark eyes distracted by an advertisement on a screen. Wearing nice clothes, sunglasses hanging from his neckline, shoulders relaxed but holding Y/N with the casual affection of a man who cherishes a great treasure.

Yuki's throat dries up. He thinks about reaching out—to say what? Giving her a polite wave—but what for? High school confessions play in his head, back when he loved her as zealously as he raced, and when her laugh ringing in his ears, more than the trophies and the European circuits and the million-dollar contracts, was his only belief.

"So when do you plan on coming back?" she'd asked him the last time they'd ever seen each other, sitting on a park bench that cherry petals flecked.

"Eight months to a year, maybe," he'd answered after a little while, knowing there was no return once he said it.

"Eight months?" she'd exclaimed, disbelieving. "Yuki, I can't… I don't think I can go eight months without seeing you."

"I don't think I can ask you to do that, either," he'd said, sounding sadder than he'd wanted, though he had rehearsed the moment over and over in his head.

She'd stared at him wordlessly, her incomprehension feigned. She knew what he was about to say, but pretended not to. He'd wished she'd piece it together on her own, admit it to herself so he wouldn't have to say it out loud, but…

"I think it's best for both of us if we just… go our separate ways. I don't want to hold you back, and you deserve to be happy here. With someone who's here with you."

You are among the twenty best in the world, Yuki, had told him Franz Tost after some F2 race he couldn't remember, when news had broken out into the world the Japanese rookie would be AlphaTauri's shiniest, newest addition. It's rough getting here and it's only gonna get rougher staying here. The engineers may cut out what's slowing you down… but you need to do it too.

"All right," was all Y/N had said, her eyes glassy. Steel. Dignified, like he'd always known her. Like he sees her right now, staring at him from the other side of the street.

Her new boyfriend taps her shoulder to show her something in a shop, and she turns her head, breaking eye contact with Yuki. Up the road, the lights turn green, and a flock of cars of all shapes and colors buzz past, invading the crosswalk and hiding the couple from view.

Twenty seconds later, when the street is quiet once more, and Y/N eagerly turns her gaze from her boyfriend to the opposite sidewalk, she finds moms pushing strollers and well-behaved Inus on leashes, but no trace of Tsunoda. A flame, gone in a flash. Her heart drops.

She squeezes her boyfriend's hand, and they keep walking.

I'm not your homeland anymore, so what am I defending now?

You were my crown, now I'm in exile, seeing you out

I think I've seen this film before

So I'm leaving out the side door"

… tagging @retvenkos @heliads @faerieroyal (the f1 girlies🥺)

… masterlist here

[anamoon63]

RL and Sims update post + a thank you note

(Warning: long post ahead, read at your own risk).

I wrote this post to thank you guys for all the likes and comments you keep leaving on my posts, even though, as you may have noticed, I can't be here as often as I used to. Real life has taken over almost completely, as I think it should. There are too many things going on, with me, my family, my country, even my sims and other games, lol.

I'm not going to bore you with daily life problems, much less with sad and depressive stuff, or with previews of a story I don't know when/if I'll ever finish, the only thing I can tell you is that I'm still busy with a lot of work, (fortunately) and family stuff; plus, I (finally) started going to therapy (yes, at my age). So right now, I'm juggling even more things than I already was.

And so I wanted to thank you for sticking with me, for continuing to read the chaotic stories of my wacky characters without judging them; thank you as well for each and every message you have sent to my inbox, be it questions, or flowers and love; and to all of you who continue to tag me both on sims stuff and cute games, knowing that I most likely won't be able to answer you, really, thank you for continuing to think of me. Your messages soothe my heart in difficult moments, and I wish to answer them all, I just don't know when I will be able to do that, hopefully someday.

Now, my sims story. For those of you who might remotely still be interested, I'm currently revising the next few episodes of Time Traveler which I wrote earlier this year. To be honest, I don't know when they will be ready, I just know the story goes on and as soon as I have reviewed these episodes, I'll start taking the pictures. When will they be published? Frankly, I don't know. It could be early 2025, but no promises, as I don't have much free time on my hands now. I manage to write in the evenings, but in-game photo shoots are quite time consuming and have to be done in peace and privacy, of which I don't have much at the moment. So, if I do decide to publish these episodes, it will likely be early next year, and at a rather slow pace.

About my gameplay, in Sims 4 we will continue with the Wilsons until the end of the season (coming soon), and then we will take a small break. As for The Sims 3, we just finished Patrick's story in Bridgeport, so now we'll go back with The Cho Brothers. First, we'll take a brief trip to Lucky Palms with Terence and Cynthia Cho; then we'll spend a rather long time in Hidden Springs and Starlight Shores, to see what has happened with Tyron, the eldest of the Cho brothers. And last but not least, we'll go back to Uni with Dale and Kelly, who I hope will FINALLY graduate this year, hahaha.

Anyway, I just wanted you to know that I am not gone (yet), that if one day I decide to retire I will make a special post about it, I won't leave without saying goodbye, but that day seems far away at least for the moment. 

Now, regarding Inzoi…

I admit Inzoi has captured my interest. As usual, I'm late to the comment party, but I still want to put my two cents about this amazing game. Seeing the trailers and all those beautiful Inzois created by other simmers got me so excited, and at the same time, terribly frustrated to see that the demo didn't contain any gameplay. I need to actually play the game to give an opinion on it! So far it looks beautiful, though I must say that the character creator disappointed me because the sliders are Sims 4 style, which I've always found a bit complicated, I'll forever prefer the Sims 3 sliders, but hey, I had a lot of fun creating my own Inzois.

Hopefully the graphics and gameplay are as good as seen in the previews and its developers won't “break” it into multiple or turn the into a malfunctioning cash cow like EA did with The Sims 4, and to a certain extent, also with the Sims 3 in its time. I hope with Inzoi they'll go for a complete game, no matter if it's expensive, if I consider it is worth it, I'll give them my money as soon as it comes out.

That being said, it is important for me to clarify that I will not abandon The Sims 3 (or even Sims 4 though I don't play it much) for Inzoi. Ever. Neither do I plan to recreate my sims OCs/games in it, because my sims are exactly that, sims. If I ever get to play Inzoi it will be with entirely new characters, although I confess, I did try to reproduce two of my most beloved sims (a boy from the future and a college girl who is a model *wink*) and they turned out pretty well, but nowhere near as adorable as they look in The Sims 3. Plus, the environments in which those two OCs currently move could not be reproduced in Inzoi, at least as far as I know.

Okay, enough of Inzoi. In short: I'm not gone, I'm still here, I'm still reading all your stories, only at a much slower pace, two or 3 simblrs per day at the most. I'm going to read them all, just bear with me, and forgive me again if I don't always comment. Sometimes I don't even have the time or the energy for that. Believe me, 2024 has been an intense year in every possible way, sometimes I really need a break, but I try to be around and will always find a way to keep in touch, even if at times it seems like I'm nowhere to be found, I'll get back to you at some point.

That's all, thanks for reading this far! Have a nice and beautiful start of the week. ���

P.S. I wrote this post three days ago, wish I had published it earlier, that way I probably wouldn't have gotten a notification that some Simblrs Community 'removed my membership'. When I clicked in said Simblrs Community icon, it said the community was 'private'. I don't know if that's some kind of automatic Tumblr thing, if there's a committee that decides about this, or if it was just a glitch in the matrix; whatever it was, I'm so sorry I wasn't able to be here to keep said membership. I didn't even know Simblr was a private membership. For what it's worth, it wasn't neglect or lack of interest for my part, just lack of time. I hope one day to be able to qualify again and be worthy of this membership. At any rate, I thank you for thinking of me and admitting me in your community in the first place.

[writethrough]

Can I request a Morpheus and reader where the reader is krypton like supergirl and he doesn’t know until I show him and we are dating and I risk my life to save him from people who wants to kill him

Thank you 😊

With Power Comes Misunderstandings

(Morpheus x Female Reader)

Synopsis: When Morpheus is late for your date, the only explanation is that someone's tried to harm him because of you—Supergirl's and Lena Luthor's daughter. After all, why else would they want your completely normal, powerless boyfriend?

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1623

A/N: Thanks you so much for sending this request in! And thank you for being so patient with me! This one kind of stumped me for a long time, but I think I figured out a way to write it that, hopefully, does your idea justice. It's slightly different, maybe a little lighter than the original idea, but I really played on the "doesn't know you have powers" bit. I hope you enjoy!

He had your full attention, he always did. 

For all the sounds you could hear and how far you could see, everything in you focused on Morpheus. 

He had this calmness that soothed your soul. He held himself with such confidence and clarity, and you desperately needed that. 

Your life was hectic to say the least. 

Being the child of Kara Danvers and Lena Luthor was one thing. But having powers like both of your mothers was something else entirely. You were born with Supergirl’s speed and senses, and the Walsh affinity for magic. 

However, they both wished for you to grow up as human-like as you could. You went to school, college, got a job, and when you were old enough, they started training you. 

You were disappointed when you discovered heat vision and freeze breath weren’t in your arsenal of powers. But, it turned out, they translated into your magic. 

Fire and water were at your disposal. Two sides of the same coin—the light and the dark. Much like your parents’ families. 

They told you stories, you watched and read the news—you knew their history. But one of the things they always taught you was that your story was your own. They embodied it in everything they did. Even in their names: Kara Danvers-Walsh and Lena Walsh-Danvers. 

It was why you never felt the need to keep secrets from them. You also never forgot that if anyone could sus them out, it was your mothers.  

When you initially told them you were seeing someone, you asked them to respect your privacy and to not go digging. Though, you doubted that they would find anything. It’s not like Morpheus had an Instagram—any social media for that matter. You didn’t mind that, though. He wasn’t attached to this modern-day vanity. He didn’t live his life for an audience, he did it for himself. 

Glancing at your watch, you wondered just where your other half was. 

Today, you were finally going to introduce your parents to Morpheus. You could already hear Kara asking how you two met, itching to get confirmation of the meet-cute she had already imagined. 

It was kind of cliché. 

You were walking your dog, she caught a whiff of a hot dog cart and bolted, and Morpheus grabbed her leash just before she could snatch one from the cart owner’s fingers. 

You had thanked him profusely, that twinge of irritation ringing because you couldn’t use your speed in public. 

Morpheus was gorgeous. And you may or may not have given your pup extra treats for inadvertedly introducing you two. 

Again, you checked your watch, tugging on the simple stud in your ear. Your magic thrummed within them, the spell to conceal said magic always on you. Your parents recommended the idea early on, a protective measure. It kept you hidden from anyone who could sense your power. 

You sighed. It wasn’t like Morpheus to be late. If anything, he was always perfectly on time, appearing the second the clock turned. 

Your stomach churned, and there was a prickling underneath your skin. 

Something was wrong. 

You clutched the necklace Morpheus had given you a few weeks ago. It had been a true surprise—not a birthday gift or a silly monthaversary token. He’d given it to you out of the blue, and said when he saw it, he thought of you. 

A ruby, no bigger than your pinky fingernail, hung from a delicate gold chain. It was the most recent possession you had of his at the moment, but thankfully, it should hold enough meaning between the two of you to lead you to him. 

You muttered a few words, imbuing it with your magic, and instantly, it cooled against your chest. 

Too far. 

The chain warmed along your left side, pulling you in that direction. 

You ran when you could, slowing when too many people were around. 

The necklace lost its warmth in front of a rundown barn five miles south of the city. Everything about it screamed “Do Not Enter.” Smashed-in windows, chipped paint, overgrown foliage—trees creating a shroud, its very own darkness. 

You exhaled shakily. Morpheus was inside. And the only reason you could come up with was that someone found out about you. Someone needed to get you away from your family with enough leverage to make you come alone. And they chose Morpheus. The man your parents knew of, but not who he was. You weren’t sure if it was sheer luck or pure coincidence. 

You kept him hidden too long, and now look what’s happened. 

You should’ve been more careful. People were always trying to hurt your parents, hurt you, but you were all strong. Morpheus was innocent in all of this, and you were going to make sure whatever asshole took him would be sent straight to prison. 

It was that thought that made you kick in the door, charging into something you never expected. 

“Morpheus?” 

He stood as he always did, calm and collected—unbothered even—with five men unconscious at his feet. 

His head tilted almost imperceptively. “Darling?” 

“What happened?” you asked, spotting the chalk-drawn runes. 

Walking along the circle, you recognized most of them. Entrapment, weakening, barriers, and one that you’d never seen. You were so wrapped up in deciphering it that you hadn’t realized he never answered you. 

“Morpheus?” You furrowed your brow, and he avoided your gaze. 

“I must confess an error.” He spoke softly, almost...ashamed? 

You slowly stepped closer. “What are you talking about? Are you alright?” 

That seemed to make his shoulders drop more. 

“I am unharmed, but I fear my misjudgement will...effect us.” 

“You can tell me anything,” you urged, fingers brushing his forearm. 

“I—” He stopped himself, eyes pleading with you. “I have not been truthful, and it has endangered you.” He glanced to the men. “They wanted to use you to manipulate me.” 

Your features pinched. Why on Earth would they want to control Morpheus? And why did he think these people were after him and not you? 

You shook your head. “This isn’t your fault. They wanted me.” 

You moved to the runes again, missing the confusion passing over his face. 

“These are symbols meant to draw in magic. They wanted to trap someone here.” You stopped at the one you couldn’t place. “I’m not sure what they were doing with this one, though.” 

“They made a mistake. It means nothing.” 

You scanned it. 

He was right. It was almost like the men smashed two runes together. It was completely useless. 

...But how did Morpheus know that? 

The question was on the tip of your tongue when he interupted. 

“I am Morpheus, Dream of the Endless.” 

You blinked. “What?” 

He stepped toward you, slowly, as if afraid you’d run from him. 

“I am not human...am I to think the same for you?” His eyes lit trails over your body even in his investigation. 

You nodded, everything piecing its way together. 

“So, wait. You’re saying that you were the target, and that they wanted me as bait?” you asked. It wasn’t anything completely new. Your mothers had security all over you until you came into your power. “How did you get to them before they got to me?” 

“Their dreams. One fell asleep here and showed me what they wished to do,” he said, head down. 

His fingers slipped into your hand, a point of connection he seemed to need. 

“My deepest apologies, dear one.” 

Your brow furrowed. “Why are you apologizing?” 

His thumb grazed over the back of your hand. “I was late for our meeting.” 

Your smile started small, then grew until you were giggling. His eyebrows twitched, but the uptick of his lips was all you saw before you threw your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. 

His hands settled at your waist as he returned it. 

“That’s what you’re worried about,” you mumbled into his lips. “I think—” kiss “—I can—” kiss “—forgive you.” 

He cupped your cheeks, gliding his nose against yours. 

“How very generous.” 

The last bit of your giggling escaped, gripping his coat. 

“You have not told me who you are,” he said, eyes locked. 

You hummed, then gave him one last kiss. “I think it’s best if you get everything all at once.” 

Gripping his hand, you were about to walk out of the barn when his firm hold stopped you. 

“I believe I have a faster way.” 

--- 

“Wait. So, you thought he was the bait for you, and he thought you were the bait for him?” Aunt Alex asked, waving her fork between you and Morpheus. 

You nodded. “I think he was more surprised than me.” 

He gazed at you fondly. “I have never been more pleased to learn a secret that had been kept from me.” 

“Oh?” Lena asked. “Why’s that?” 

“She is protected even if I can not come to her aid.” 

Kare “awwed” as she brought in two pans of food with Aunt Kelly carrying a large bowl. 

You rolled your eyes, fighting a smile. 

“Trust me,” Kelly started. “Even if she wasn’t powered, she has an entire legion behind her.” 

Morpheus gripped your hand beneath the table. You glanced to him, then caught Kara’s eyes, a knowing look as she turned to your boyfriend. Your cheeks warmed when you realized she wasn’t wearing her glasses. 

“We’ll have to introduce you to everyone one day,” Kara said. “Since we’ll be seeing more of you.” 

Your jaw relaxed as you caught it just before it opened. She wasn’t wrong, but you didn’t think she’d be so bold. 

Morpheus gave your hand a light squeeze. “It would be an honor.” 

Taglist: @sayumiht, @hatterripper31, @snowsatsu, @1950schick, @navs-bhat, @bookshelf-dust, @sapphireonline, @fictional-hooman, @steph-speaks, @ladyredstar1991, @secretdreamlandmentality, @ababycake, @morpheuss1mp, @boofy1998, @alice-the-nerd, @herfantasyworldd, @poemfreak306, @tronnily, @commanderfreethatdust

If you’d like to be added to any taglists, please comment or message me with the character you’d like updates on. 

[richeeduvie]

Lalo’s young preteen bebito thinking he’s grown enough for a cool tattoo like papa and Lalo catches him at the last second and to punish/reward him makes him get one of those heart tattoos with the word ‘Mom’ in it

The way this is abuse but also kinda cute? (also I didn't read this correctly and the son already got a tattoo in this so my bad, also I'm realizing how flawed milf princesa and old Lalo are but it's kinda cute also scary and Princesa??)

I mean, I don't know how else to word it. I know with the basic understanding of teenagers, that they are in conflict with their parents all the time. It's apart of growing up. But...the Salamanca's have their own odd and obsessive understanding of family. The boy would only hate a Mama tattoo for so long.

"Papa! It's just a small tattoo of a knife! I can hide it! You have tattoos and it's-"

They cry out when Lalo takes their ear and drags them down the hall.

"You got a tattoo all of your own, thinking you're a big guy, huh? A grown hombre. Bad work, too. You're gonna get something that actually means something to you. Wanna get a tattoo like a grown man, balls haven't even dropped yet-"

"Papa!"

He's flicked his son's head.

"Lalo! We'll ground him, we don't have to-"

"Nah, Princesa. He's been acting up lately, he was acting like a little boy and now he wants to be a man. Going against you and me? If he wants to cry out like he still respects us, he'll find a way to respect us. And you're calling out my tattoos, boy?"

He sits the boy on a stool and points to his roses.

"These are for you and your brothers and sisters. And I know how to pick out an artist. You?"

Lalo's eyes go wide in harsh humor as he huffs.

"Looks like a sharp cock. I'll call my guy to fix that up for you."

And the guy comes. The young Salamanca cries, Princesa soothes and shushes. He's really a little boy again.

She pushes his hair back. It's a point in time where her soft, obedient personality has grown into Lalo's parenthood, with the fiery and hot exceptions burning through her from time to time. But not here.

"You already got one tattoo without us, baby. But we're here and it'll feel the same."

"Mama, what if he chooses a bad tattoo?"

"Papa wouldn't do that."

She isn't so sure on that, but the boy hisses and leans into Princesa as Lalo pats his back and shoulder. The tattoo gun buzzes against his skin.

It's a lot cleaner and even a bit less painful than the boy he paid at school. He breathes the same way, hard and even when he sees what the tattoo is.

The big red heart with the word MAMA right inside.

"Don't put that look on your face, boy." Lalo laughs, back bent with legs straight. "I did you a favor, now Mama can't get too mad at you ever again, huh?"

Princesa blinks slow. She wishes her heart didn't know what to feel at the sight.

"It didn't hurt bad?"

"...No, Mama."

"Alright. It looks - it looks-"

"Great! I know good work when I see it!"

It'll take only a week for the boy Salamanca to start parading the tattoo around.

[australet789]

TLK: And i saw myself

Continuation of this Kiara needed to think. Rafiki's word still danced on her mind. Were The Lions of The Past really the reason she was with Kovu? Has she ever had a choice about her life? Could she even trust her own heart or it was just all a big plan? Will her cubs be part of it as well?

She couldn't face her family. Not with the knowledge she learned. So she went to the side of Priderock and let herself lost into the night sky...

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I was waiting for you, my child."

The voice rumbled on her head, filling the black space Kiara had just woken into. But she wasn't afraid. The voice was...calm and soothing, like she had know it all her life.

"Because I had always been with you since the day you were born", replied the voice. Kiara pressed her ears to her head, trying to hide her thoughts from this presence. "Don't be afraid," the voice chuckled, "I can't hear your thoughts, you just had the same reaction I had when I entered this place for the first time. I am going to admit, it is quite scary. But come closer. I want to finally meet one of my grandcubs in person and not from the sky".

Grancubs? Could it be..?

"Mufasa?" Adjusting her eyes to the darkness, Kiara finally recognized the spirit in front of her.

The old king nodded. "But how? I thought only The Lion Guard-"

"Yes, usually, only The Lion Guard's leader can communicate with the ancestors. But once in a while, some animals are chosen to be more perceptive of The Lion of The Past's wishes and knowledge. And you, are one of them."

Kiara looked away from her granfather's spirit, remembering the conversatio from earlier. "I'm aware".

Mufasa frowned. Kiara tilted her head. "You didn't happen to overhear my conversation with Rafiki and how he told me you were the one who decided me and Kovu were together?"

The spirit of her grandfather blinked. And after a moment of silence, Mufasa did something she would have never expected the respected king to do: he threw his head back and groaned. Loudly.

"Great Kings, give me patience with that old mandrill." It was so, so unexpected, that Kiara couldn't help to laugh. Mufasa, realising he was caught in a moment, blushed (as much as a spirit could blush) but then laughed along his grandaughter.

"Ahem!" the lion composed himself. "Listen, Kiara. Rafiki said the truth that it was my plan to make you and Kovu be together, but it was you who gave me the idea."

"Come again?"

"I thought Simba was going to heal The Pridelands," continued the king, "but we- I didn't consider how much Scar had hurt my son. His heart was still healing and his soul was broken even more when your old brother Kopa died."

Kiara remembered the stories about an older brother she never got to meet.

"I wanted to intervene, to show Simba there was a way to unite the prides again. But he has built a shell around his heart. And you were born and he was raising you to hate the Outsiders too. I thought the war was going to last forever. But you...you weren't like your father. You were curious, you were open-minded...and you gave Kovu a chance." There was pride in Mufasa's words. "You, Kiara, saw beyond his exterior, beyond the prejudices you were raised into, defied your instincts, and decided to be friends with the enemy."

"It was all you, Kiara. You taughe me there was still a chance to make The Pridelands the way it was before Scar's reign. I only told Rafiki what your heart already showed to me, to us. The rest, was all you."

Her heart was beating quickly. Kiara couldn't believe what she was hearing. But her grandfather's words resonated not only in the void they were talking to but in her soul.   "Never doubt on your decisions, my child." Reassured him. "You are what I was supposed to be, what I was supposed to do in my time as King. But I was naive and blinded to my brother's doing and what I was told to do. You didn't. You defied that. You were truth to yourself, as a Queen should do."

Something rumbled around them. And Kiara knew it was time.

"Grandfather...thank you." Kiara tried to bow but a warm paw stopped her. "No." And then Mufasa bowed to her. "Thank you."

And then Kiara opened her eyes. ----------------------------------------------------- Kovu was tired. He never thought fatherhood was going to be this hard. It was scary, but seeing his cubs sleeping between his paws, make it all worth it. If only he knew why was Kiara so bothered about-

*thud*

He felt someone resting on him. But he knew who it was. Looking back at his mate, he could glance a smile on Kiara's muzzle.

Everything was going to be ok...

[ragingbookdragon]

Something about being thirty-nine doesn’t sit well with Alejandro. Every year reminded he’s getting older, the soldiers are getting younger, replacing the men and women who are finally retiring and spending life with their family. Alejandro ages with Las Almas, but his soul still feels as young as it did when he was seventeen, riding bikes along the peaks of the mountains with Rudy, standing atop the highest one, staring down at their city bathed in a golden crest, all their problems gone as they shout their dreams from the high heavens above and below. I want to see Las Almas free! Alejandro sometimes wishes he could go back to seventeen. So many choices he could undo, make right with people he did wrong, stop things. But he lives in the present with his actions and consequences.

Young as he may be inside, his body tells him otherwise. Every day he wakes with a new pain somewhere. His lower back, his knees, his shoulders. He thinks about the pain he used to feel when he was a teen and Abuelo would put him and Rudy to work in the gardens, hands and knees in the dirt, pulling weeds and resituating plants, hoeing the long planes of the ground, sweat dripping down his face, chest heaving with each breath. An all over body ache that was soothed with hot water and a good night’s rest—some things couldn’t be solved so easily now.

His soldiers had gifted him numerous trinkets, a few bottles of liquor, others cards with a few twenties, anything above he gave back and hounded his men about not being worth that much and that they needed it more. A few gifts even came in from the 141, something Alejandro was very happy for. Price had sent along a goody bag full of cigars, liquor, and a really intricate looking knife courtesy of Ghost, along with a note that said next year they’d all get together to celebrate his fortieth.

Alejandro was content to share his cigars and liquor with Rudy as they stared up at the night sky on the back of Alejandro’s porch, quietly reminiscing and laughing over the stories they’d made over the years when a knock sounded from the front door. Immediately the two were on guard as someone called out, “Colonel Vargas! I have a delivery from Mistress Spades!”

Alejandro relaxed, if any, and replied, “Around the back!” he’d nodded to Rudy, who’d already had a handgun waiting, and when the man came around, he held up his hands.

“I’m unarmed, sir! Just a package for you!” he had the package in his left hand, small enough that it couldn’t be an explosive, but then again, he’d seen some very impressive bombs be smaller. “Mistress Spades called for me in Laredo. I run interference for her in that area and connect with Houston. She had a package sent here and had me deliver it.”

Alejandro walked over, Rudy’s sights trained on the man, and held out his hand.

“Here you are, sir,” the man said and handed it to him. “She said to be extra careful with it, that it took forever to track it down and if I lost it, it’d be my ass.”

He laughed. “Sounds like her.” He looked at him. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” He nodded at Alejandro then to Rudy and disappeared to the front, where an engine started then the echoing of him driving off reached them.

He returned to the porch and sat back next to Rudy, who was curiously awaiting him to open it. “What is it?”

“I don’t know,” he retorted. “I haven’t opened it yet.”

“Ábrelo!”

Alejandro laughed as turned the box over. A beautifully decorated box, no bigger than his palm, wrapped in thick black paper and sealed with a gold wax stamp that had Spades’ symbol on it. He gently popped the wax seal and lifted the paper, carefully unwrapping the small black box beneath. He lifted the top and picked up the gray card, elegant crimson writing he recognized as Spades’.

Catholicism always confused me, considering the idea of salvation and talking to God is something you are supposed to do in private one on one and not with a priest who orders you to pay penance for your sins. To each their own though, if that’s what helps you sleep at night. Happy Birthday, Alejandro. With love, Spades ♠

He chuckled and put the car aside before shifting the wrapping paper to reveal his gift. His eyes widened as he stared at it, heart fluttering in his chest as he reached to touch it. “Qué es?” Rudy asked, and when Alejandro didn’t respond, he leaned over, concern in his voice as he asked again, “¿Alejandro? ¿Qué pasa? ¿Qué es?”

Alejandro lifted the rosary from the box. An ornate and antique piece, made of bronze with ruby beads, the Infant of Prague sitting just above the crucifixion. Tears gathered in his gaze as he ran his thumb over the cross and flipped it, seeing the inscribed initials he so fondly remembered.

“Es el rosario de mi madre,” he managed to say, a bubble of laughter escaping him as he wiped a stray tear. “No lo he visto desde que tenía siete años. Había perdido la esperanza de encontrarlo.” Alejandro couldn’t stop the tears as he closed his eyes and pulled the rosary to his forehead, a quiet prayer for his mother. He missed her terribly every day, had never stopped looking for the cartel men that had murdered her and stolen her rosary that day at seven years old. Now it was home again.

Rudy leaned over and wrapped an arm around him, squeezing him tight and joked, “Déjale a Spades encontrar algo que has estado tratando de encontrar durante treinta y dos años en menos de seis meses.”

Alejandro couldn’t help but laugh, a full one from his chest that made his stomach hurt and he nodded his head, slipping the rosary on to rest under his shirt at his heart. It felt like his mother’s arms were around him, her lips pressed to his head like she always had done. She was home.

He looked at Rudy and smiled. “Este ha sido uno de los mejores cumpleaños de mi vida, Rudy.”

Rudy was already clambering to his feet, pulling Alejandro with him so they could go eat dinner. “Lo ha hecho, pero el año que viene va a ser increíble porque puedo darte cuarenta puñetazos y no tener ninguna repercusión.”

“OYE!”