#EVEN WHEN I THINK OF HER IN LEGO FORM THAT IS A SHORT HAIRED LEGO!!!

[peachyninjago]

this post is here to inform you that i literally forgot harumi canonically does not have short hair. i saw a screenshot of her and had to do a double take. the headcanon has now become so real that ive forgotten canon <3<3

[midnight-scrivener]

Kids are wild, dude.

Couple days ago, me and Partner popped over to Disney Springs to a) buy some mead, and b) spend gift card money to go see the Boy and the Heron (10/10 so good).

I was chilling on a wall outside, waiting for Partner in the bathroom, and behind me, I hear a tiny, clear voice, filled with the plaintive ennui of someone who's been trapped in a time loop for aeons unknown, say, "just let me die."

*Freeze, slow turn*

Reader, allow me to paint you a picture.

There is a man, the daddest man perhaps ever to dad. He is wearing a visor. The visor says something like, "have a Disney day™️" on it in red swirly font. His hair is sticking straight up out of the top of the visor, like a mad scientist who forgot he was leaning on the Tesla coil when he told his Igor to throw the switch, henchman! This gives the distinct impression that this is not his visor, but rather was hastily thrust upon him, likely by a spouse who is also in the bathroom. It was cold out (for Florida anyway), so this man was wearing a heavy Patagonia fleece, and, in true Dadly fashion, little cargo shorts, pockets bulging, dragging the shape of the garment parabolically earthward, laden with the responsibilities inherent in being the Vacation Manager and Bearer of the Visor. His legs were covered in gooseflesh. But, reader, he bore it.

He had sunglasses, those iridescent mirrored kind that make you think of sport fishermen. But they dangled around his neck, so I could see his eyes, vacant, staring, lined with the patient resignation that can only come from loving someone who is A Lot To Be Around. His hand, large and calloused and properly Daddish, was clasped with another set of tiny digits.

Dangling from his arm with a comfortable drama that implied this was but one time of many, was a tiny girlchild, no more than maybe five years old, wearing a full length Rapunzel princess gown, light-up Sketchers, and pink, glittery mouse ears that had been knocked askew in the process of her collapse and gave her hair the air of waging a losing battle with a little bird.

This girl, with the face of a cherub and the serious manner of an elderly man of state, stared off into a slightly different middle distance than her father. Her sketchers trailed over the ground as she rocked slightly in his gentle-but-firm grip. She sighed, and reader, I felt that sigh. In my bones. No one who's never experienced the weight of deep debt looming over them should be able to sigh like that.

She opened her mouth and said again in that clear, innocent voice, "Please won't you let me die?"

Her father, aware that people had begun to take notice, shook his head. "We're just waiting for Mommy."

This did not satisfy the tot. Still without a shred of distress, just the solemnity of a gig worker with twelve different 10-99 forms to file come tax season, asked "Yeah, but why can't I just die now?"

Her father closed his eyes. He was silent for long enough that I knew on some level he was wondering the same thing about himself. People were Aware of the situation now. Eventually he took a deep breath and looked down at her, still hanging from his arm. "It's against the rules to die at Disney World," he said. "Even if you want to. But tell you what, if you wait until we get back home, you can die there instead. That way Mommy and I can both be there."

The girl's mood brightened immediately. She got her feet under her and straightened, beaming up at her dad. "Oh, okay," she said. "After Mommy comes can we go to Legos?"

There's not really a proper end to the story, Partner just came out of the bathroom and we went to the movie. But damb. I hope that little girl knows I'll think about her at least once a day for the rest of my life.

Don't die. There might be Legos in it if you stay.

[shurisneakers]

harmless (vii)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, existential crisis, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, lil bit of angst, clint barton being a lil shit

Word count: 3.4k

A/N: hey shoutout to @ugherik for suggesting a spin on the “A PLATYPUS!??!“ [perry puts his hat on] “PERRY THE PLATYPUS!???” thing. i used it in here, it’s a really small part and probably missable but i tried!! also i like the next chapter better than this one, i just wanted to put this here so it doesn’t seem abrupt <3333

here’s

my ko-fi

if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

Bucky can’t stop staring at the mirror.

He wishes it was for narcissistic purposes. He had enough reason for it to be. His age may be a hundred but he had the youthful exuberance of a very drained sixty year old.

But no, it wasn’t because of the steel cut jawline or thousand gigawatt smile.

After last week’s mini-spiral, he does what almost half the videos on TikTok warn him not to do.  

He got a haircut.

Everyone’s reaction stopped him from following it up with an ear piercing, but he can’t confidently say he didn’t at least consider it once. Maybe a neck tattoo. 

He pulls at a lock of hair. It’s not even longer than his finger.

What did he do-

“It’s just a haircut, man,” he says to no one in particular, almost like he’s trying to reassure himself.

He runs his hands through his hair. It takes lesser time than he was used to.

Steve had told him he looked good. But then again, Steve wore a fugly costume 90% of the time, what did he know?

Clint acknowledged it and didn’t outright call him ugly, which he supposed was a compliment. Wanda simply smiled at him.

“FRIDAY?” he reaches out.

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?” comes the automated reply.

“How are you?” It took him some getting used to her, given that she was constantly listening to everything, and in general seemed to go against the universal idea of privacy. 

But his therapist told him he needed to form friendships. 

She didn’t mention it had to be human ones.

“As good as ever. Is there anything I can help you with?”

He wants to ask her what she thinks of his hair until he realises fashion advice from a faceless AI is a new low for him. Maybe ‘Do you think I should crawl into a pit and die?’ would be more appropriate. 

“Never mind,” he dismisses instead. “Any messages for today?”

“A reminder to buy a harder bed because you can’t keep sleeping on the floor.” Ah, that was on Sam’s recommendation three months ago, but he wasn’t going to stop any time soon. “And a text from a contact named Nuisance saying to meet them at the attached location in thirty minutes.”

“Where is the location?”

“The local sports centre.”

“Isn’t that closed today?” 

If he had to go out in public looking like this, maybe he could wear a cap and sunglasses and no one would recognise him. Unfortunately, as he was reminded several times before by anyone with an iota of common sense, it was a stupid disguise. 

Beanie it was, then. Bare minimum. 

“It is, yes.” Fewer citizens to worry about.

“Okay.” He hesitates in front of the mirror again, adjusting the hat on his head. “Thank you, FRIDAY.”

“You’re welcome, Sergeant.”

He stares at the little tuft of hair at the front that refused to stay down no matter how much he shoved it back.

“Come on, man,” he exhales in slight despair. “Whatever.”

____

The lock of the door leading to the pool is easy enough to pick. He can see how you got in without a hitch even though it was closed. 

The deck around the pool was absolutely drenched in water. No one was using it, there was no reason for water to splash out unless it was deliberately kept like this.

He catches sight of you easily, being that you’re the only two people there. You were standing at the end of the hall, head ducked as you scrolled through your phone.

The door closes behind him with a soft thud.

You don’t look up from your mobile when you start talking, “What do you think 6 year olds like?”

Because James Barnes, carbon dated to 1917 and therefore certified young person, would definitely know the answer to this question.

“I don’t know. Lego?”

“Just how much money do you think a teacher makes-”

You stopped mid-sentence, finally lifting your head to catch his eye. He stares back at you, steps faltering when you don’t move.

"Who are you?" you squinted.

What

"It's me," Bucky says, tugging off the dumb beanie and using it to gesture vaguely towards himself. Fuck, he shouldn’t have worn it, it was ridiculous anyway-

"You sound like him..." You narrow your eyes. “You don't look like him.”

Great

He rolls his eyes before putting on a mock scowl. Can't have Bucky Barnes without a sense of eternal disgruntlement.

"Oh hey, that is you." You grin. "You got a haircut."

“I did.” He suddenly feels the awkwardness increase. His fingers fidget with the beanie.

“Nice.” You nod in acknowledgement.

He wants to hit himself at the words that just spill out before he could think about it. “You hate it.”

“I never said that,” you snort. “And since when does my opinion matter?”

“It doesn’t.” But now he wants to know what you think since he didn’t trust anyone else to tell him honestly.

“Must cut down on time in the shower, huh?”

It did.

He shrugs. He shoves the beanie into his back pocket.

“Was it a crisis haircut?” How did you kno- “Are you going to get bangs next time?”

“Shut up,” he says lamely, a dull burn in his cheeks. 

“I know a place where you can get hair dye for cheap. Not technically FDA approved, but I think purple streaks are a good place to start-”

“What are we doing here?” he interrupts, sighing.

“Skinny dipping. Take off your shirt, Barnes.” 

“Funny,” he says dryly, eyeing your shoes when you straighten up.

Ice skates.

“Fine, pants then.” You don’t make any effort to move from your end so he does, walking closer to you. 

“What are those for?” He doesn’t hide the annoyance from his voice when he points at your feet.

“Oh, these?” You look down at them. “Yeah, I’m going to freeze the pool.”

That seems... mild compared to the shit show you wanted to do last time.

“For?” He halts where he is. 

“’M gonna take my friends ice skating.”

“Is that all?” He wants to make a comment about the fact that you have friends but bites it back.

“Today is just a trial run. Tomorrow I’m gonna go freeze the East River.” There it is.

“The East River is not your personal ice skating rink.”

“Not yet it isn’t.” You lift up a middle finger.

It was too early for you to flip him off, even by your standards.

He raises an eyebrow.

Your face scrunches in confusion. You follow his gaze to your finger. “Oh yeah, no, that’s a freeze ring.”

Only then he notices a ring around the finger. From where he was standing he could make out the blue stone that adorned it.

“Joy.” He rolls up the sleeves of his black bomber jacket. “Let’s get this done with, then.”

“No no, wait.” You hold up your hand and he complies, having nothing to lose anyway. You pull out your phone and press a few buttons before shoving it back into your bag and tossing it aside.

The soft sounds of a piano start playing from a boombox near the corner of the room. A child starts singing following a series of knocks.

His eyebrows furrow. “What the fuck is this?”

“The Frozen soundtrack.” You beam at him. “I thought it was fitting.”

He doesn’t know what that is and at this point, he’s too afraid to ask. He can vaguely make out the lyrics being about a snowman but he isn’t too concerned.

He takes one step forward. You immediately point your fist at the ground in front of him, forcing him to jump back when a blast hits right in front of his shoes. Suddenly he gets why the floor is covered in water.

It sounds like a series of cracks as the water starts freezing over, a layer of ice now separating him and you.  

"You ready?” The mischief was woven in your voice as the blasts continued throughout the deck, effectively turning the entire floor into ice.

Bucky takes a step tentatively forward. Not bad. He takes another. Okay.

The third one is when shit starts to hit the fan. His hands shoot out to hold onto his balance when his footing slips from beneath him.

His Nike sneakers aren’t used to snow. They’re used to well manicured lawns and pavement trips to Starbucks and marble floors of the compound. Not swimming pool decks covered in ice.

He can hear you singing in the distance and every time he looks up you’re a little further away, making sure every inch of space is frozen.

It takes him a while to get over the initial fear of breaking his skull and just move forward swiftly with short steps. A goddamn penguin is what he looked like.

“There you go, you’re getting it,” you chirp as you whiz past him. He reaches out to grab at you, only to miss by an inch. He staggers, arms flapping wildly to regain his stability.

He hears crackling beside him. He gets a second or two to watch ice crystals spread through the water before turning it completely solid. You step onto the now frozen pool, testing your weight with one leg before cautiously getting on.

A triumphant smile emerges on your face. “Awesome.”

He manages to press himself against the wall as a form of support. 

There is no point to this whole thing. He knows this. It’s been well over 6 weeks and there is genuinely no point to this.

He realises it again when he moves from side to side, body erupting into a waddle. 

Why is he doing this. He doesn’t get paid extra. He doesn’t get any kind of compensation. All he gets is more wisecracking geniuses, embarrassment and the mortifying ordeal of getting caught imitating a penguin.

The song changes to a woman singing about doing something for the first time, forcing him to pay attention to it. He hears something about ball room and balls and tunes right back out.

Bucky manages to find his way to the actual pool since that’s where you’re twirling around, opting to land on his mental arm in case things go wrong. He takes a sliding step forward, followed by another. Maybe he can do this. 

“If a 200 pound super soldier can stand on this, I suppose it’s strong enough,” you muse, watching him slip and slide as he tries to invent makeshift ice skating.

Unfortunately, his method doesn’t have any brakes, so while he’s too busy trying to move forward, there’s no way to actually stop. He finds this out very soon when he almost launches himself off the edge of the pool.

Something yanks him backwards and back onto the ice.  

“Honestly, this is utterly useless since you can’t really do anything but it’s the most fun I’ve had all week,” you admit when he goes sliding towards the middle, arms flailing.

“You had to pick fuckin’ ice of all things.” He thinks that maybe he’s getting a hang of this. He can definitely move faster than what he was doing like, 10 minutes ago. It’s not like you were going anywhere, anyway. 

“I like to keep things spicy.”

He stays where he is to glare at you. You mouth the words to the song, watching his every move whenever it interested you. 

Okay, change of plan; a temporary distraction till he figures out how to actually get the ring from you. He settles on skating towards the edge of the rink slowly, taking a step off, slipping almost immediately when his foot comes in contact with the deck. 

“Where are you going?” you yell over the music initially but immediately break into song when it ends in a crescendo.

He takes a knee, lifting his metal arm up before driving it into the ground. It shatters magnificently, leaving small shards of ice at his disposal. 

He picks up one of them, waiting for you to complete your dumb twirl. He takes aim, and-

“Ouch, what the fuck?” You stop your off key singing to rub your shoulder where the ice hit you.

He wordlessly picks up another piece to throw at you, hitting you squarely in the leg.

“Stop that!”

He may not be able to move as fast but he can definitely throw. 

“Give me the ring,” he commands, stretching his arm behind his back before releasing another piece to hit your forearm. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” There’s nowhere you can skate to avoid his stupidly good marksmanship. 

“You gotta do what you gotta do.” He shrugs, breaking another patch of ice to replenish his ammo. “Hand over the ring.”

“Over my dead body,” you shriek when a particularly big piece lands next to your feet. You knew he missed that shot on purpose.

“I feel like I’m finally acting my age,” he says casually, finding your darting about in order to avoid him more fun than he initially thought. “Can’t throw pebbles at meddling kids so this is the next best option. Thanks.” 

“If you acted your age you’d be in a casket, Barnes,” you hissed, finding that skating in zig zags helped your cause, but not by much. “I’d be- you bitch- I’d be more than happy to help you get there.”

You raise your arm, ready to send another blast to freeze the water that was starting to melt around him, hopefully, keep him where he was if it froze around him. 

He flinches. You notice immediately, hand dropping slightly when you realise what it looked like.

“I’m not gonna freeze you,” you say, softer than you intended. From what you knew, he had enough and more experience with that and you weren’t going to contribute to it. 

He swallows thickly, giving himself a little shake of his head as if to jolt him out of his train of thought. 

Another piece of ice hits you in the leg. You let out a string of curses at him.

“The more ice you make, the more I have to throw at you, Y/N.” He waits for you to regain your balance when you nearly take a stumble. 

“Shut up, you’re so immature.”

“Remind me whose plan this was again?” No point waiting for you to regain your balance when you fall over only a few seconds later. 

He gathers a few shards in his beanie, tucking it into his belt like a little makeshift rucksack just in case before venturing out on the main rink again. 

It’s more difficult for you to stand without railings to guide you, giving him enough and more time to make his way towards you, staggering and skidding. 

Both of you looked ridiculous. 

“Stay away, fiend.” 

“Ring first.” He holds his hand out in front of you. He even considered pulling you up if you just made things easier.

Next thing he knows he’s on his ass on the ice beside you. 

“I hate you,” he groans, watching as you inch away from him on your knees.

He doesn’t really have any other options so he shoves aside the humiliation and gets on his knees, using his arms to drag him along the ice.

“For the love of Christ, none of us are winning here. Just give me the ring.”

The bitch from the soundtrack sings about letting it go but he won’t. 

“Never,” you shout, sliding away from him as fast as possible. 

You make use of the fact that the top layer of ice is starting to melt, using the ring to freeze it again. His knees and fingers get stuck as the water freezes over but he has super strength. It barely takes him a second to free himself. 

“Great,” he huffs, just settling down on the ice, ignoring the sting of cold that was spreading through his limbs. Running after you wasn’t going to work; he needed a way to get the ring. 

“You won last time, I’m not letting you win again.”

“Are we seriously keeping score?” He watches as you scramble towards the edge.

“No one likes a loser, Bucky.” You use the pool stair railings to pull yourself up.

“Explain why you have friends then.” He can’t help himself this time. 

“Hardy har har.” You roll your eyes. 

He doesn’t make an effort to move. Instead, when you take a step back into the rink, he raises his arm and pummels it into the ice, just to annoy you. 

The ground damn near shakes, pushing you dangerously towards losing your balance again. 

“Are you crazy?” Your arm shoots out in front of you to keep you from falling headfirst. 

“No.” He does it again. This time there’s a crack in the ice. “I’m just very tired.”

“If the ice breaks we’re both gonna be underwater, you moron!”

“Fine by me.” He shrugs. “Freeze it again. I’ll just find different ways to ruin it for you.”

You glare at him. He raises his arm above his head again.

“Fine! Fine, stop.” You eye him as he lowers his arm. 

He reaches for his stash of ice pieces from earlier, throwing one at your shoulder again.

“Boy, I swear if you don’t stop doing that-” you duck when another one comes at you. You had no idea he could be this annoying. 

It suddenly hits him, like a lightbulb going off in his brain. He wipes his hands off on his jacket, getting on all fours before slowly managing to pick himself up again. 

He looks at you, tilting his head slightly like he was studying you.

“What?” you ask suspiciously, eyeing as he starts inching closer towards you. “What are you thinking?”

It’s like watching a newborn deer stumble its way through the world, albeit more gracefully, until he starts picking up speed. The motherfucker was going to mow you down.

The skates are useful but not so much when an extremely determined bumbling oaf is barrelling towards you, his speed beginning to match yours even without equipment. 

You don’t know why you’re running, you don’t know why he’s chasing after you but when you see the end of the pool you take a sharp left only to have him knock right into you, sending you both sprawling.

You land half on top of him, breaking your fall but it doesn’t stop the very loud groan that escapes your mouth. He’s already in the process of sitting up straight, giving you less time to analyse what just happened.

“What the fuck was that for?” you speak through gritted teeth. “Fuckin’ acting like the both of us have free healthcare.”

“You refused to give up.”

“So your plan was to tackle me like a quarterback?” You threw your hands up.  

“One part of it.” He drags himself to the edge, away from you. 

“There's more to your monkey brained plan?” He doesn’t look at you. The ice around the pool has more or less melted, letting him gain proper footing on the floor before he stands up. 

“Oh, yeah.” He turns to you. “The other’s a trick I stole from Stark.”

Bucky holds up the ring. Your jaw slightly drops, eyes searching your finger for the now missing piece of tech. 

“Suppose that’s two points for me?” 

You’re impressed. You also want to stab him. So you do the next best thing.

“When I imagined you holding a ring in front of me, the circumstances were very different,” you comment.

“Bye, Y/N.” He spins on his heel, not even giving you a second’s worth of reaction. You found it amusing.

He heads towards the door, clothes all wet. He empties out melted ice water from his beanie before stuffing it into his pocket. Just when he’s about to leave, you remember something. 

Do you mean it genuinely or just because it has an effect on him? 

“Just for the record, Barnes, about your hair-” you call out, earning his attention from over his shoulder. “I think you look really good either way.”

The world may never know. 

You swear you can see the corners of his lips quirk upwards before he turns around again. 

He slips on a block of ice, cursing and clenching on to the door to keep him upright, quickly yanking it open and leaving before he has a chance to embarrass himself further.

Smooth.

Next part

[deepseavibez]

Why So Serious? || MYG

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-> Picture Source - Pinterest

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Why So Serious? [Yoongi x Reader]

Prompt - @casnextdoor

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Genre - Fluff; Comfort; Dad!Yoongi; Mom!Y/n; Drabble;

Summary - Why is your babygirl crying? And what can Daddy Yoongi do to make it better.

🎶- People - Agust D

Warning - Crying; Bad feelings(implied); Confused parents (at first)

Word Count - 1.7k

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'No.' You looked up at the short answer. Four year old tempers were a thing, you understood that but your baby girl hadn't said no to picking up her toys before.

After playtime Mina usually cleaned up after herself, the task relatively easy for her, something like a game to put everything in its place in the shortest time she could.

You believed she got it from her father, because there was no way the trait came from you. You relished in your organized chaos, if it felt like it should be there it would stay there. You would go as far as capping your pens but they were never in their holders, just strewn about your desk, the closest color to your mood for the day.

Stretching your arms out along the island where you were chopping up pieces of apple for a midday snack you gave your toddler your full attention.

'But your LEGOs are all over Minnie, and you finished playing with them this morning,' you tried to sound as gentle as possible - an invitation for an explanation.

'I don't want to.' She shook her head back and forth, no playfulness present, mouth a stubborn line, as if that answer was good enough.

'Mina, those are your toys, you played with them, would it be fair for Mommy to clean up after you?'

Shaking her head in response she looked down and away from you, twiddling with the ears of the giraffe teddy in her hand.

You gave her a minute to move, to respond, each second of it hiking up your level of annoyance.

'I won't ask again, Mina.' Your voice was stern now, patience worn thin.

'No, Mommy, No!' She cried out, and ran out of the room toward Yoongi's study.

'Mina,' you dragged out, following swiftly after her.

You found Yoongi at his desk, phone at his ear, he looked at you and motioned with his eyes toward the tuft of hair peeking out from between his legs.

Leaning on the door you watched her cry, something in you tugging at your chest in frustration, because all you wanted was for her to listen, but you also didn’t want her to cry. She was never like this.

'-- I'll email them by tomorrow, yeah sure, just text me. We can set up a meeting to discuss the list.' Ending his call, Yoongi discarded his phone immediately and reached between his legs to settle his babygirl on his lap.

The transition would amuse you on any other day, the serious, intimidating Min Yoongi, softening his lips, his eyes, using gentle fingers against Mina's cheeks to wipe away her tears.

'What is my pretty girl crying about huh,' he asked, as he tried to make her face him.

Shaking her head in refusal to answer, he looked up at you, a camouflaged seriousness in his eyes, meant only for you.

'She refuses to pick up her LEGOs, told me no, and when I asked her again she ran out of the room crying.' Your voice sounded even but just by looking at you Yoongi could see, you were unnerved. The tantrum uncharted territory, especially for a task carried out so many times before.

'Daddy!' You had barely explained before she burst into tears again, falling into his chest, hiding her face from view.

Holding her close and patting her head tenderly he looked up at you in alarm, 'Why is she-, ' he mouthed at you.

'I don't know,' you mouthed back, shrugging your shoulders in emphasis, your expression bewildered.

Staring ahead for a few seconds, he contemplated before his eyebrows smoothed out, a realization crossed his face, as he decided to do something.

Interest piqued, you straightened up, and watched him, ready to jump in and follow his lead.

Your crying four year old still bawled her eyes out, hiccups coming from her chest, her throat would be ouchy later, you thought in concern.

‘Shh, baby, shh, you aren't in trouble, but you need to tell Daddy why you won’t clean up your toys.’ His voice was soft and coaxing as he gradually pulled her back to look at him. Grabbing tissues from the box he had near his desk for situations like sticky fingers and leaky noses, he wiped her tears and her small nose.

Yoongi, even now, in a situation like this had you in a pile of mush. He was not outwardly one for softness, especially with his blunt nature and his solid hands, but here he was gingerly running his fingers through Mina’s hair and setting it as he cooed at her to stop crying, to listen to Daddy.

Her voice hoarse from crying so hard she answered him, ‘I don't feel okay daddy.’

‘Are you hungry?’ Yoongi prompted, discarding the tissues in the wastebin, his hand now at her back and waist, holding her up, and lowering his head with a sulky expression to match hers.

With a shake of her head, she rubbed at her eye, he tilted his head to the side, and prompted again. ‘Are you tired? We could nap, you and I together, Mommy too.’

Another shake of her head, this time her frown prominent and lip quivering, as if ready to burst into another set of tears.

‘Did mommy do or say something bad to you,’ he asked in a whisper, talking her into telling him a secret.

Your eyes widened at the question, panicking internally in resistance. What was that supposed to mean? As if there were eyes at the back of his head, he held up his hand, a clear sign to wait.

Mina shook her head hard, now in a state, more confusion than ever clouding her features as she battled not to cry. ‘It feels bad, Daddy, I don’t like it and it won’t go away.’

‘Is it telling you to be mean to Mommy?’ Yoongi asked as she grabbed onto his shirt again, ready to hide away.

‘It just feels icky,’ she answered wetly, looking over at you her eyes widened momentarily ‘Mommy don't cry. Daddy I made Mommy cry,’ she cried out in desperation.

Your eyes blurred with unshed tears at your baby’s voice, holding a hand to your mouth you kept as quiet as possible. Yoongi had this.

Yoongi swallowed hard at his daughter's face, his protective instincts flaring, but this was one boogeyman he needed her to fight with him.

‘Baby,’ he used another tissue to wipe up the fresh tears. Moving the keyboard aside, he sat her up on his desk in front of him so she could lay her head on his shoulder and he could rub her back. ‘Sometimes Mina, we feel bad inside, and we don't know what to do about it.’ His voice was smooth as he explained, no indication that he had been affected. ‘It tells us to be mean, because we don't know what we’re really feeling and it's okay baby, because Mommy and Daddy feel it too, and we’re here for you. We love you.’’

‘Do you think it's okay to be mean to mommy.’ He was so patient about it as he asked her and it left you in awe as he made her understand.

‘No,’ the word muffled as half her face was squished on her father’s shoulder.

‘No it isn't, baby, and we can't help you if you don't tell us what's wrong.’ Pulling back he smiled softly, her cheeks puffed up and blotchy, eyes shiny but without tears. ‘If you told mummy you were feeling icky, she would have tried to help, right?’

She nodded enthusiastically at that. ‘Mommy always helps me.’

Your heart soared at the statement as you watched the energy come back to your Mina.

‘There's my girl,’ Yoongi smirked as he pinched her nose and she scrunched up her face, at the action. ‘So from now on, when you feel like this again, you can tell Mommy or Daddy and we can help you and take care of you.’ Holding out his pinky finger, she smiled as she curled her small pinky finger around his - she knew we took pinky promises very seriously.

‘Come on, let's go give mummy a hug and tell her you're sorry.’ She reached up her hands to be picked up as he stood from his office chair.

Mina reached out for you as Yoongi carried her towards you and you plucked her easily from him. Her hands immediately wrapped around your neck and she placed a wet kiss on your cheek.

‘I'm sorry for being meany mommy.’

‘It's okay baby,’ rocking her back and forth, you closed your eyes at the feel of your small human in your arms, a certain escape, as if everything in the world mattered a little less as long as she was okay. ‘Mommy feels bad too sometimes, and you know what daddy does?’ You prompted excitedly.

She leaned back to look at you, her cheeks puffy, lips pouting, as she listened to you.

‘Daddy gives me lots of cuddles and kisses me here and here and here and here,’ you placed kisses on her cheeks and forehead and nose, ‘and he gives me food, and chocolate and anything else I want.’

Giggling now, your chest ached at her happiness, a sweet ache, her importance beyond anything she could imagine.

‘Did you know Daddy got me Gloss when I felt really really bad.’

‘Big white gloss,’ she motioned with her hands, her eyes full of wonderment.

‘Yep,’ you popped the ‘p’. ‘Big white gloss,’ your own excitement palpable at the mention of the white teddy bear on your bed, his size slightly bigger than her form.

‘Mommy,’ she motioned you forward with her hand and you leaned closer to her, ‘Can daddy get me a gloss too?’ She told you in your ear.

Her very loud whisper had you turning your attention to the man who now leaned against the wall and watched the interaction.

He smiled his gummy smile as wrapped his arms around both of you and answered her softly, ‘Anything for you Minnie.’

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[ballorawan740]

SCP Scenarios: When their kids swear at them (REQUESTED)

Main Masterlist | SCP Scenarios Masterlist | My Works Masterlist | Rules | Request | Socials | My Original Post

Requested by: @Astro_KeySimp

WARNING: Swearing (sorta)

Ok so I kinda made the reader into the child since don't remember if you wanted the reader to be a child or not, so if it wasn't to your liking, then I'm sorry, but I can make a separate version on where the reader isn't the child

It kinda became more of the SCPs and doctors being dads than their reaction to their kids swearing

SCP 073 (Cain)

Cain was walking around with you since you were bored and there wasn't anything to do

Being unaware of what some of the staff were saying, ye went over to grab you some food for later in case you got hungry

Once you both went back, he watched you play with some Legos and was talking as if it was your Lego friends talking to you

Cain looked away for just 10 seconds and heard you shout out "Wow! He said that her baby's such a bi-" which shocked him as he heard it

Cain looked around and made sure that nobody was around the room and was somewhat surprised that you was the one saying this

Being a good dad he is, Cain explained to you carefuly that you shouldn't say that word because it's bad

And being a sweet shy child, you obliged and stopped saying the word

Til this day, Cain had no idea about where and who you've heard the word from and is very much more self-aware

SCP 076-2 (Abel)

Abel is that type of dad who would teach you all the bad words and encourages you to say them

It's the researchers who had to teach you top not to say those words

One time, Dr Glass came in to examine you and had rewarded you as usual since you were so cooperative

You drew a picture of you and Abel talking in a garden with bright coloured flowers

Simon asked if he could see your drawing and saw that the conversation you and your dad had was those of swearing

This surprised Simon since you knew so many at such a young age but wasn't totally shocked since he knew that you were Abel's child

And knowing him, he wouldn't teach you to be nice, so Simon took the job as a mother hen and taught you to not use those words around people

SCP 999 (Tickle Monster)

Ok, so I'll keep this SCP short since I, again, don't know what I should write for this adorable, squicky, neon-orange, bubby blob

Another SCP who doesn't cuss

This adorable squishy boi here was about to have a heart attack when he heard you swear fir the first time

He had to ask you worryingly where you heard that phrase and you just said some guy wearing a white jacket

999 sighed knowing that you'll grow and couldn't do anything to stop it

He did, however, mention that you should try and avoid saying those things to anyone and that they'd most likely have a heart attack since you were his child and you won the genetic lottery for being the cutest and outgoing child in the world

The only other person who knew of this was Dr Glass (sucks to be him ngl, he do be a mother to everyone) and he had to help poor 999 with teaching you better words

SCP 682 (Hard to Destroy Reptile)

YAY! Another SCP who would teach their kid to swear

682 has such a dirty mouth like 076 and would 100% teach you all the words he knows

Similarly to what happened with Abel, you were taken for an interview with Dr Sophia Light since she was assigned to you

She's such a sweet and kind doctor to be around and would teach you anything and everything you would probably need to know all the while keeping an eye on you in case you become overly aggressive like 682

You were just eating some sweets Lights had given you for good behaviour and overheard some researchers swear

Remembering what your dad had taught you, you just repeated those curse words while clapping at your achievement

This had shocked Sophia and that researcher since you were known to be a moderately shy and quiet child who normally wouldn't say those things despite being 682's child

Sophia had to ask if you understood the meaning of those words and shook your head as an indicator for no

She had to carefully find her words and told you to never speak of those words again and took you back to 682's cell

You went and hugged your dad and told him that you learnt from the doctor that those curse words were bad and neither of you should say them

682 had a headache after that

SCP 049 (Plague Doctor)

I have a hard time thinking that 049 would teach his child to cuss and would avoid swearing in front of them at all cost

Like, he barely swears anyways but he wants to stay classy and sassy for his innocent child

Just like the other day, his kiddo, you, was curious about the whole surgery thingy he does on the dead bodies, so you asked him to teach you and so he did (like the good father we nevah had)

So you learnt some new, yet difficult, words (cuz we all have a nonexistent pea-sized brain) and somehow, you managed to fit in a curse word

This did surprise 049 as he had remembered that he didn't teach you those foul words

He had to give you a talk about using such words and you teared up since you thought that people used them to express their affection to others

Unsurprisingly, 049 took his sweet time looking for the guy who 'taught' you this and wanted to use him as a case study for your future lessons

SCP 035 (Possessive Mask)

Another parent with such an amazing influence on children

035 would teach and enable you to use swearing as a form of expression

So you were free to say whatever you want as long as they aren't directed to our mask here, especially if it's in a negative way

Otherwise, you'd be punished (No not like that! He'll just ground you from your favourite TV show/movie)

The researchers were surprised, not about you swearing, but how you use them through expression

Except for this poor guy who was new to the foundation and bumped into you by accident

This rookie found himself listening to you cursing like a sailor (maybe not that much but more or less on the same level as Samuel L Jackson)

Word got out and everybody laughed at the poor rookie and told him more about your background and how you love to swear (apparently swearing will prolong your life, so you'll basically be immortal here)

035 was impressed by the whole ordeal and rewarded you with more shows to watch whenever you're both free

SCP 105 (Iris)

Iris would accidentally swear in front of you and whenever she realises it, she would tell you to not swear at people since it wasn't very nice

So she would use words to replace the swearing like "oh fudging hell not now" and "no sugar honey ice tea"

The foundation felt that it was slightly unnecessary but went with it anyways

They'd even go as far as saying that it's ridiculous, but who are they to judge?

Iris was your mother and she's a single mum too, so she felt the need to be overly beating but would occasionally let you decide on your own since you were only 12

The foundation members did tell her that you will eventually grow and more of these words will be used but she just hesitates

As a teen, you did begin to use foul words more often and Iris would argue about how you're using them, especially towards her, your own mother

Needless to say, you both felt bad and made up

SCP 106 (Old Man)

Now this old man right here doesn't exactly speak, or at least very rarely

And if he does, he'll most likely be talking to you or the foundation staff if he needed some help finding you

He'll most likely be able to understand what the researchers are saying, even if they aren't speaking English

My own personal hc is that 106 understands English, German, Spanish, French, Chinese, Arabic and Indonesian and probably many others

Every now and again, somebody would come in and teach you new words and give other lessons like maths and poetry (our favourite)

You came back home to tell him all the things you've learnt as he watched you in awe as he braided your hair

You've even used some new phrases, including swear words while talking and 106 was pretty impressed

I feel that he's quite neutral with swear words since words are words and are used as a form of verbal communication

So I don't think they'll be much change in his behaviour to whether you're swearing or not

SCP 096 (Shy Guy)

Now with 096, all he does is scream

So basically, somebody else would have to teach you some words

It's not to say that 096 is a dumb animalistic creature with no soul and just kills people who look at his face

He isn't stupid since he manages to find anyone who looked at his face from the other side of the globe

And he seems to understand what the researchers are saying, or at least on a more intermediate to moderate level

You'll learn about swear words from the other researchers, whether they'll be teaching it to you intentionally or you've overheard them

The foundation could really care less, but would at least prefer that you chill a bit if you got carried away

096 would act all cheery when you learn more new things as it's not like the foundation would let him out anyway, so he'll be living the outside world life from you (How relatable, but more with babysitting and dating, cuz I'm too pretty for anyone to date XD)

Like with 106, I don't think 096 would have any special reaction towards swearing, but would probably be screaming internally for a bit since he knows that it isn't a nice word

Dr Jack bright

This mf right here is one of those parents who would be kind but firm

Bright would most definitely give in to your curiosity and teach you whatever you want to learn but would warn you of the dangers

Depending on what it is, he would even go as far as giving you your own personal guard who would stay with you and train you

And unfortunately, this guard has such a foul mouth, so you're constantly exposed to such words

Luckily for the both of you, Jack Bright doesn't really care about swearing as long as you're not being extremely inappropriate if you were to work

He would even joke around with you sometimes and would even start the conversation with swearing

For instance, he'd just surprise you with a "Yeet his mf outta my sheithole"

And yes, you did laugh at his antics

Some would even say that you're an exact clone of him but more stable (for now)

Well, Bright is an amazing dad, but I'd say just below Dr Glass

Or maybe even on par with him

Like Bright is a goofy dad that has all the terrible dad jokes and Glass would be the type of dad to look out for his kid

Dr Simon Glass

Dr Glass would most definitely avoid using swear words, especially if you were under 15

Even if you were over 15, he'd still avoid swearing unless he wants to make a joke or 2

So most of the time, you'd learn all the swearing from other people and SCPs

Sometimes you would swear by accident and Glass would just look at you, slightly disappointed

I'd say he doesn't exactly care about you swearing per see, but would rather you avoid it

It's cuz Simon is the best dad a dad could ever dad and nobody could prove me wrong here

He's also one of the top best dads compared to the others on the list

He's basically your best friend so he'd let you vent and its the 1 time he'd let you swear to show your emotions

Simon would 100% know your thoughts and behaviour

He's just that good at reading people, especially you - almost to the point where people would say he's an SCP cuz I swear he's just empathic and telepathic

As mentioned before, Glass would be the type of dad to care for your mental health

It's not that the others don't, it's just that Glass is a top their God of Psychology and would come to you before you even know you have depression

He would even crack a joke sometimes

So every so often, he would shout out "LANGUAGE!!!" from across the room before you could even bat an eye and say anything

Dr Alto Clef

Another top tier dad, but swearing addition

Your godfather would literally be Jack Bright

Then it's Kondraki and Glass

He would let you swear on a daily basis and would join you

Sometimes you be looking at your Oppas/Noonas and be like: "Oh fxxk me!" and Clef, who's in the next room, be like: "Yeah, fxxk me too!" (Yes but no sis! No incest pls!)

Other times, you would be in the same room as Clef and Bright and you'd join them in being chaotic

And poor Kondraki  is just there at the back trying to do his work peacefully

One time, Kondraki had to grab a Simon Glass to help stop the chaotic trio

And OML did it end so well

You were easy to manage tbh, with the exception of you swearing

Clef and Bright would most definitely encourage you to swear more

Especially Clef since he does have a twisted sense of humour

Dr Benjamin Kondraki

Kondraki is totally the type of person who would tell their kid to mind their own language

But he secretly doesn't care and his child knows it

His style of parenting is similar to Simon's

And yes, Simon is your #1 godfather/uncle

You'd go to him for emotional support since Kondraki sucks at that

Sometimes you'd swear at him and he'd get mad though

So yeah, running to Glass is a wonderful idea

And we all know that Kondraki doesn't mean what he said

He's just extremely introverted, but he's rather sensible - Usually...

Anyways, he would ask Simon on tips and advice on how to get you to stop swearing so much and he just gave Benjamin a parenting book (Like fr guys, let Glass have some rest, he's tired of babysitting over 100 dozens of pets in the zoo and all the other babies who work in it)

[somewhatgreatexpectations]

They Can’t Take That Away From Me (Wanda Maximoff/ Reader)

Hello again! It is with great excitement that I present you all with the first part of the “Love Goes” sequel! I’m still trying to come up with a name (suggestions welcome lol). 

A good amount of dialogue from Wandavision is used here since it felt necessary to set the story up. Songs used are “They Can’t Take That Away From Me” by Frank Sinatra (1954) and “Lego House” by Ed Sheeran (2011). Let me know what you think!

Summary: What is life like for Y/n and Wanda in the 1950s? And what shenanigans will they be getting into? 

There was an odd sensation of confusion as Wanda looked around the home. Now that you had gone to work she wasn’t quite sure what to do with herself. Even though you had only been gone a moment, she couldn’t help the excitement that built within her at the thought of you walking through the door again. 

Much to Wanda’s relief, she wasn’t left alone with her thoughts long as an unexpected knock on the front door caught her attention. With furrowed brows she made her way over to the front door and opened it. A hesitant smile appeared on her face as a woman holding a plant smiled brightly back at her.

“Hello, dear. I’m Agnes. Your neighbor to the right. My right, not yours.” The woman informed her cheerfully as she made her way into the home before Wanda could even get a word out. “Forgive me for not stopping by sooner to welcome you. My mother-in-law was in town… So, I wasn’t.” 

The sound of laughter floated into Wanda’s ears as she smiled back at Agnes who offered her the plant which she graciously accepted. Agnes began speaking again before Wanda got the chance. “So, what’s your name? Where are you from? And most importantly, how’s your bridge game, hon?” 

The woman wandered further into the home as Wanda closed the door and rushed over to her, the smile of a perfect hostess never falling from her lips. “I’m Wanda.” She replied politely as she offered her a hand.

Agnes took her offered hand and shook it lightly. “Wanda. Charmed.” She looked around. “Golly! You settled in fast. Did you use a moving company?”

With wide eyes, Wanda turned and placed the plant on the table. “I sure did. Those boxes don’t move themselves.” She replied lightly, the polite smile returning to her face as laughter once again floated around her. 

“So, what’s a single gal like you doing rattling around this big house?”

Wanda waved her hand dismissively. That was something she certainly wasn’t. “Oh no, I’m not single.”

Agnes titled her head slightly in surprise. “Oh, I don’t see a ring.”

Glancing down at her finger for a moment, Wanda furrowed her brow before snapping her head back up to meet Agnes’ eyes. The smile never wavering. “I assure you. I’m married. To a woman. A wonderful woman. A writer at that!”

“A woman?” Agnes asked excitedly. “How nifty! Where exactly is your special lady?” She questioned as she took a seat on the couch. 

Wanda’s smile changed slightly and become something softer as she thought of you fondly. A change she didn’t even notice herself as she settled into the space next to Agnes. “She’s off at work. Meeting with her editor today.” She said, a proud tinge to her voice.

“Well, that’s exciting!” Agnes exclaimed, “It must be a dream to be married to a writer! Maybe she can teach my Ralph a thing or two on how to romance a woman.”

A bashful smile spread across Wanda’s lips. “I can’t speak for other writers, but mine certainly is a dream.” 

Agnes gestured to the round table in front of them. “So, what’s the occasion today?” 

For a moment Wanda merely stared at Agnes with confusion. Until her eyes fell to the calendar on the table which had a heart drawn in the box for the day’s date. The calendar which she oddly hadn’t noticed until that moment. “Well, it’s a special occasion, of course! Y/n must have left it there for me to find.”

Excitedly, Agnes leaned forward. “Is it someone’s birthday?”

“Not a birthday.” Wanda replied with a shake of her head, she knew that couldn’t be it.

In response, Agnes’ own eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Well, today isn’t a holiday, is it?”

“No, not a holiday…”

“An anniversary then?”

“Y-… Yes!” Wanda agreed quickly as she pointed at Agnes in recognition. “Yes, it’s our anniversary!”

Agnes reached out to take Wanda’s hands with an enthusiastic smile. “Oh, how marvelous! How many years?”

For a moment Wanda hesitated, something told her that answer wasn’t a simple one. “Well… it feels like we’ve always been together.” 

“How romantic! So… what do you have planned?” Agnes questioned.

“How do you mean?”

Agnes chuckled as if Wanda’s reply amused her. “For your special night! A young thing like you doesn’t have to do much, but it’s still fun to set the scene!”

A nervous look came across Wanda’s features as she considered Agnes’ words. Before she could reply, Agnes interrupted again. “Oh! I have the perfect article to help us plan!” She said eagerly as she rushed to the door. “This is gonna be a gas!”

Wanda turned away from the door with a dreamy smile as thoughts of spending a romantic evening with you filled her mind.                                           _______________________ “Y/ln!”

The shout startled you, and the clacking sounds that floated from your typewriter ground to a halt as you jumped up and turned towards the sound of the voice. “Yes, sir?”

“My office. Now.” The curly haired man huffed as he turned on his heel to go back in the direction that he came. 

Your desk mate, who’s name you couldn’t seem to remember, why couldn’t you remember, turned to you with a sympathetic smile as he pat your shoulder. “Tough luck, pal. Looks like boss man isn’t in good mood today.”

A tight, nervous smile was all you could muster as you quickly shuffled all your papers into your arms, grabbing your notebook as you left. With hesitant feet you stepped into the office. “You wanted to see me, sir?”

The curly haired man gestured to the empty seat in front of his desk as he lit a cigar. You sat with a nervous smile. “Just wanted to check in and make sure you’re ready for your dinner with Hart tonight. One of the biggest publishers in town. Sign with Hart, then you’re set for life, kid.”

“Of course, I am.” You replied quickly, even though you had no idea what meeting he was talking about. 

“You better be, kid, or else you’re done. I took a chance on you. Don’t make me regret it.” Through a puff of smoke, he gestured you out of his office which you didn’t hesitate to take.  

Hurriedly you ran over to the phone on your desk, dialing in the only number you knew. A sigh of relief escaped your lips when an answer floated through the receiver on the second ring. “Wanda, darling, I was just calling to see if you were prepared for tonight.”

“Why, of course, dear. I have everything under control.” Came her easy reply.

You breathed a sigh of relief as your shoulders dropped. “So, you know?”

The sound of her light laughter filled your ears, making you smile. “Well, when I saw the calendar I just figured.”

“That’s a relief… I must admit, I am rather nervous.”

After a brief pause, Wanda replied. “Nervous? Whatever for?”

With a quick glance back in the direction of the office, you answered. “Well you know situations like this always make me jittery, darling. It’s a tad nerve wracking.”

“Oh, Y/n. After all this time?”

Nervously you began playing with the cord of the phone, barely even processing her words. “I think there’s a lot depending on this, Wanda. If tonight doesn’t go well, I think this could be the end.” 

Another glance back at the office showed your boss yelling at your desk mate. “Well, it’s just one night. There’s no need to get dramatic.” 

Again, your nerves made it difficult for you to process her words. “With you at the helm, I know everything will go well. Until tonight, my darling. I love you.” 

The smile in her voice was obvious as she responded. “Until tonight. I love you.”

When you placed the phone back on the receiver, you couldn’t help but notice the song playing from the radio, something about a star-spangled man. A thought felt as though it was forming in your mind before the song was abruptly cut out, and a new song drifted out of the radio.

“We may never never meet again, on that bumpy road to love, still I'll always, always keep the memory of…”

                                                ___________________

When you entered your home, you couldn’t help the confusion that appeared at the sight of the clearly romantic atmosphere that was set up. The lights were dimmed, and candles were spread throughout the room.

“Wanda?” You called out hesitantly, placing your briefcase and the papers in your arms off to the side of the entryway. 

The woman in question sauntered in the room with a coy smile on her face. “Hello, darling.” She made her way over to you and draped her arms over your shoulders. “I missed you.” She whispered as she leaned closer.

Any thoughts that had previously occupied your mind vanished as every aspect of the woman before you invaded all your senses with ease. “Wow. Wanda… You look… breath taking.” You breathed out.

With loving arms, you pulled her closer as your fingertips skimmed over the soft and flimsy silk of the dress she had on. Like magnets your lips met in a tender embrace, a soft sigh escaping your lips at the sensation. Wanda pulled you closer fervently as her hands tangled into your hair.

A sharp knock at the front door startled you apart a moment later as your eyes widened with the realization of what you were supposed to be prepping for flooded back. “Hart!” You whisper yelled as you rushed to the mirror to fix your hair.

“Hart?” Wanda questioned in confusion.

“My publisher! I thought you knew?” You quickly turned to her, your confusion matching hers as another impatient knock appeared at the door. “I have to let them in!”

Wanda’s eyes widened. “Y/n, no! My dre-“ Her words were cut short as you had already opened the door, you own eyes widening when you realized what she was saying. 

Without thinking you moved behind the man and covered his eyes with your hands, Wanda following your lead as she covered the eyes of the woman standing next to him. “Y/ln, what’s the meaning of this?” The man exclaimed as you looked over to Wanda with wide eyes.

With a snap of her fingers, the beautiful dress she was wearing seconds before was replaced with a much more modest one. You both removed your hands from the guests and stepped in front of them with sheepish smiles. “Well, you see, sir…” you trailed off as you attempted to think of a reasonable response.

“It’s a tradition Sokovian greeting!” Wanda exclaimed, you nodded enthusiastically, thankful for her save.

You smiled nervously, “Yes! It is a traditional Sokovian greeting of hospitality, sir. My wife is from Sokovia.” Nerves began to bubble in your chest which Wanda noticed as she took your hand to steady you which immediately eliminated any feelings of discomfort. You loved her so much.

The woman chuckled lightly. “How exotic.”

“Mr. Hart, this is my wife, Wanda. Wanda, this is Mr. Hart.” You introduced quickly to steer the conversation back to where it should be. “And this must be Mrs. Hart.” you offered your free hand to the younger woman standing next to Mr. Hart as Wanda dropped the other.

The woman took your hand with an amused smirk as she eyed you. “Are you insane? This is my daughter.” Mr. Hart said gruffly, “My wife is out of town at the moment. My daughter has an eye for quality, so I brought her along.”

“Eleanor Hart. You can call me Ellie.” The woman offered, as you uncomfortably took your hand back from her. There was something familiar about her, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. 

Wanda walked off to pull a cloth off of one of the lampshades before taking your hand again. “Can I see you in the kitchen for a moment, sweetheart?”

“Excuse us.” You said quickly as Wanda was already dragging you out of the room. You blew out a candle along the way.

When you both reached the safety of the kitchen Wanda spun around to face you, “Who are those people?”

Instead of answering you asked your own question. “What was happening earlier?”

“Well, it’s our anniversary!” 

A look of confusion quickly overtook your features. “Our anniversary of what?”

Wanda threw down the cloth still in her hands and sulked away. “Well if you don’t know I’m not going to tell you!” 

“That man in there is Mr. Hart, my publisher! My editor set up this dinner for us, so we could discuss publishing my book.” You explained as you gestured vaguely to the window in the kitchen.

A look of realization crossed Wanda’s features as the disembodied laughter floated in the air again. “That must have been what the heart on the calendar meant.”

You took Wanda’s hand in your own, an apologetic look in your eyes. “Darling, this was so romantic to do. The candles, the music, that stunning dress…” You trailed off as your eyes glazed over at the thought. Wanda snapped her fingers in front of your face to get you to refocus. “Right. I don’t want to be unappreciative, but right now…”

“Your publisher and his touchy daughter are expecting a home-cooked meal?” She supplied helpfully.

You nodded sheepishly. “Exactly.”

Wanda glanced over at the table in the kitchen. “Any chance they’d settle for a chocolate covered strawberry split three ways?” Once again, the laughter floated through the air as you winced. “I might have a better idea.” Wanda announced as she ushered you out of the kitchen.

When the door to the kitchen swung shut behind you, Wanda rushed out the back door as you made your way over to Mr. Hart and Ellie so you could attempt to entertain them for the time being. It wasn’t long before commotion in the kitchen caught the guest’s attention which you were able to distract them from.

The second time the commotion began it seemed as though there would be no distracting Ellie. 

“Maybe I should see if Wanda needs help while you and my father discuss business. I sense trouble.” Ellie announced as she made her way over to the closed shutters that looked into the kitchen.

Nervously you stood up as the commotion in the kitchen continued. “Ellie, I insist you don’t-“ The woman kept moving forward though and eventually opened the shutters which you could see into as she was opening them. The sight wouldn’t be one that would be easy to explain as practically everything in the kitchen was floating around Wanda. 

Thinking quickly, you sang the first and only song that came to your mind to distract them. “I’m out of touch, I’m out of love, I’ll pick you up when you’re getting down. And-”

As soon as the song began falling from your lips both of the Harts began turning in your direction, only they seemed to be frozen mid turn. 

“-out of all these things I’ve done, I think I love you better now.” You murmured along to the lyrics that were drifting out of the speaker at your feet as you swayed lightly to the slow tempo of the song. Your eyes stayed locked on the woman in your arms.

The arms that were circled around your midsection tightened as Wanda lifted her head from your shoulder to meet your eyes. The look in her eyes was staggering. You had almost forgotten what oxygen was when Wanda was near. You didn’t care though, you’d happily stop breathing if it meant she was by your side. She was a different kind of air. 

Wanda grazed her palm along your cheekbone. You easily leaned into her touch. “You never gave me a choice, you know?” Wanda whispered even though she didn’t need to.

“A choice for what?”

“Loving you. It’s as easy as breathing. You are a part of me. I’ll never be able to love someone else.” The words fell from her lips so easily and you couldn’t help the way your heart beat heavily against your ribcage as though it were trying to get to her.

Closing the short distance, you connected your lips to hers. “Loving you was never a choice. It was a necessity.” You mumbled against her lips.

Wanda pulled back and just stared at you adoringly. “If I could go back, I would love you longer.” Your brows furrowed, you didn’t know why but you knew the response was out of place. “There’s never been anyone but you. Never. Not before, not now, and not in the future.” Wanda whispered fiercely as the compound around you began to fade and you both drifted away as pieces of the living room began to form again…

Suddenly the Harts completed their turn and stared at you in shock. You glanced up at Wanda in confusion, seeing the kitchen appliances still floating around her. You didn’t know what just happened and you hoped she’d be able to offer clarity.

When you met Wanda’s eyes though they were filled with an emotion you couldn’t quite register… except you could. It was pain. Before you could react, she waved a hand and the shutters closed once again. 

“Golly, what tune was that you were just singing there?” Ellie questioned excitedly, “It sure was nice.”

You smiled politely, unsure how to answer the question yourself. “Just something I heard a long time ago.” 

“A writer and a singer? Your wife sure is a lucky gal.” Ellie replied with a wink

The flirtatious comment made you shift uncomfortably where you stood. “The lucky one is definitely me. Wanda is heaven sent. Perfecti-”

“When is dinner going to be ready?” Ellie questioned abruptly, interrupting the day dreamy look in your eyes as you spoke of Wanda. “My head is spinning.” She added as she leaned on you for support.

Mr. Hart marched over to you as you nervously used your hand to fan his daughter. “Do you hear that? My daughters head is spinning. Generally speaking, I don’t like her head to do that.” You winced. Ellie leaned further into you, forcing you to use your arms to support her.

The lecture Mr. Hart was giving you continued. “You know, I’m beginning to think you aren’t worth publishing. I had high hopes for you after speaking to your editor. From what I’ve seen here tonight, you can barely keep it together. Look around there’s all this chaos in your househo-“

“Dinner is served.” Wanda interrupted as she stood by the table with an uneasy smile, her eyes expressing her discontent at Ellie’s position even if she didn’t say it. 

Mr. Hart turned to eye the table as you breathed a sigh of relief. “Breakfast for dinner, how very…”

“European?” Ellie finished with an entertained smile, still leaning on you. 

Thankful for the lighter shift in atmosphere, you quickly moved away from Ellie and rushed over to the table. “Let’s have a toast!”

Everyone gathered around the table. “To my lovely and talented wife.” You stared at Wanda adoringly as you raised your glass.

“To our esteemed guests.” Wanda countered with a smirk as everyone around the table clinked glasses. “Well, please, eat before it gets cold.”

Everyone took a seat around the table. “So, where did you two move from? What brought you here? How long have you been married?” Ellie rapidly spouted off. 

The polite smile on Wanda’s face faltered slightly as she seemed to ponder the questions. You chuckled nervously. “I think what my wife means to say is w-we moved from-” 

“Yes, we moved from…” Wanda interrupted only to pause in thought.

“And we were married…” You stopped as well to think of the answer, why couldn’t you think of the answer. You picked up a fork to keep your hands occupied.

“Yes, yes, we were married…” Wanda looked at you, confusion in her eyes.

 “Well, moved from where? Married when?” Mr. Hart asked impatiently.

Ellie pushed the food around her plate. She seemed amused at the situation. “Patience, Dad. They’re setting up their story. Let them tell it.”

“Our story…” Wanda began again, a nervous chuckle escaped her lips.

Mr. Hart looked between the two of you in annoyance. “Yes, what exactly is your story? I think it’s a perfectly simple question.”

Wanda stared blankly at the table as you felt a pressure begin to build in your temples. You held back a grimace. 

The walls in the room began to feel suffocating and the dress you had on felt constricting. Your breathing became heavier as your continued to desperately search your mind for something, anything. A memory that existed before this morning. The floor around the table began to splinter slightly as the fork in your hand folded in on itself. 

“Honestly, why did you come here? Why?” Mr. Hart slammed his hand on the table causing you both to jump. Your thoughts were racing as you wracked your brain for the answers to his questions but kept coming up blank.

A large crack in the floor appeared by Mr. Hart’s chair as he fell back, stuck on the edge, frozen in fear.

Ellie smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Dad, stop it.” The gap by the table widened as Mr. Hart teetered precariously on the edge, still frozen in shock. “Stop it.” She repeated. 

Wanda’s eyes widened in concern as you vaguely saw wisps float over to the gap but do nothing. The pressure in your head became even stronger as the world around you became more difficult to register.

“Stop it. Stop it.” Ellie kept repeating as she turned her attention to Wanda. Mr. Hart hanging over the gap by his fingers.

“Y/n. Help him.” Wanda said assertively as the racing in your mind came to a halt. You stared at the scene before you in horror. With subtle wave of your fingers, the gap closed as Mr. Hart was once again on flat ground. 

You rushed over to help him. “Let me help you up.”

When he was once again on his feet, Mr. Hart glanced at his watch. “Well, would you look at the time.”

“We better be going.” Ellie added as she stood up.

Wanda looked at them both cautiously, the polite smile making a reappearance, but much more tentative than before. “Are you both alright?”

“We had such a lovely time.” Ellie wandered over to you and shook your hand once again a moment too long, the flirtatious smile returning. 

With an uncomfortable smile, you pulled your hand back and made your way over to Mr. Hart. “You made me proud tonight. First thing Monday morning, I’ll make a call to your editor and let him know we have a deal.”

The final remnants of confusion faded away at his words as you eagerly shook his hand with a broad smile. “Yes, sir. Thank you.” Wanda let them both out as you each leaned against the closest object near you and breathed a sigh of relief. 

After taking a moment to collect, you both wandered over to the couch. You easily wrapped an arm around her. “You know, we are an unusual couple.” Wanda stated.

“Oh, I don’t think that was ever in question.” You replied as the disembodied laughter rang out again. 

Wanda leaned into you, “We don’t have an anniversary… or even wedding rings.”

You rubbed her arm soothingly. “Well, today could be our anniversary.” You offered.

“Of what? Surviving our first dinner party?” She questioned with an amused smile.

You chuckled. “Precisely.” 

“And the wedding rings?” She asked.

“Well, couldn’t you make some for us?” You questioned as you held out a hand, smiling when she mimicked your action. 

With a wave of her finger, beautiful rings appeared on both of your ring fingers. “I do.” You said softly before turning your head to look at her. “Do you?”

“Of course. I do.” Wanda replied tenderly as she intertwined your fingers. The disembodied voices cooed.

“And they lived happily ever after.” 

“And we have a happy ending.” Wanda whispered. A brief flash of something flickered in Wanda’s eyes, but before you could analyze she leaned in and lovingly connected her lips with yours in a sweet kiss. . . . . . . . . As the credits rolled there was a brief moment of silence as everyone stared at the screen. “I told you star-spangled man wouldn’t work. This is the 50s, not the 40s.” Darcy said pointedly.

The sound of a soft thud filled the room from Natasha hitting the back of Steve’s head. “I thought it would be close enough.” Steve grumbled as he rubbed the back of his head.

Fury stared at the screen intensely. “I know that woman, but how did she get there.” He mumbled more to himself than the people in the room. “I think I know someone who we can send in.” He eventually addressed the room.

They all turned to look at him. “Let’s do it. Rogers ideas obviously aren’t working.” Natasha answered as Steve crossed his arms in annoyance.

There it is! Part 1 of the “Love Goes” sequel. This one felt a little constricted by the episode because a lot of it still felt necessary as it introduced the newer characters which is why a lot of dialogue from the first episode was used here. The italicized portion was a memory in case that was a little confusing. Also “Star-Spangled Man” is from the first captain America movie lol. I’m actually kind of excited about this though! As always, let me know your thoughts, they’re always welcome!

P.s. I pictured Emma Watson as Ellie because Emma Watson. :)

[kuroos-babie]

Falling in Love with a Single Mom

Sugawara x fem!Reader | Kenma x fem!Reader

[ Headcanons/MiniFic ]

Request: hi!! i absolutely loved your single mum hc and please could you write the same but with sugawara and kenma? thank you so much- you’re doing great!!! — anonymous 

a/n: sorry it took so long!! wasn't feeling motivated lately and didn't want to put out half-assed stuff :(( I HOPE U LIKE THIS ANON!!!!!

❀ suga sat in front of the class, observing his class of 4 year-olds with a gentle smile on his face.

❀ they were all minding their own, occasionally calling out for their teacher when they were short on glue and fancy stickers, checking up on their tablemates to compare their crafts

❀ one particular student catches his eye as the child opted to lay on his arms folded on top of his desk, looking sullen, instead of working on the given task; a father’s day card

“hey, is everything all right? are you not feeling well?”, his voice was soft as he approached the boy and his eyes grew softer when the he shook his head and proceeded to bury his face between his arms.

“why aren’t you making a card, then? look, all your friends are doing one for their dads.”

“i don’t even have a dad to give it to, why would i even make one.”

suga was taken aback by the young one’s words but stood his ground

“give it to me then, i’ll be your substitute dad”, he said with a gentle hand on the boy’s back, smiling even wider when the boy looked at him with a giddy smile

“really?”

❀ the child then proceeded to work on a card; enumerating all the nice things he likes about his teacher-turned-substitute-dad

❀ after adding the final sprinkle of glitter, he excitedly went to show his finished product

❀ suga scanned his work, his smile never leaving his face but the clumsily written bit at the end left his heart soft with sympathy for the little boy

❀ “i wish suga-san really was my dad, we would have lots of fun playing at the park and mama won’t be too lonely anymore!”

❀ when the day came to a wrap, he found himself being dragged through the halls, your child pulling him by the sleeve

"mama said she'll be picking me up today!"

he laughed nervously but continued to match the boy's little steps, "that's great! but why do i have to come with?"

"i want you to meet mama! i bet you'll like her, she's really nice, her food is amazing!! and she's the preeeeeettiest girl ever"

❀ and oh boy was he right

❀ suga couldn't contain the the wild blush that found it's way to his face, tinting his cheeks and the tip of his ears

❀ he hasn't felt this flustered since kiyoko held his hands

❀ he watched the boy let go of his sleeve to run to you, meeting him with a sweet smile

"mama! suga-san said he'd be my dad so i can have someone to give my dad's day card to!!"

you looked shocked. then confused. and then just plainly amused.

"baby, i told you to call your teachers sensei, haven't i?"

"but if he's my dad now should i still be calling him sensei?"

"you'd only cause trouble, baby. besides, i don't think he wants to be a full-time dad just yet, isn't that right sensei?"

you shot him an apologetic smile and he glance at the boy whose eyes are already brimming with tears

"i-i wouldn't mind at all!", he blurted out before he could even stop himself

his face flushed an even deeper shade of red which you found endearingly cute, "I MEAN ONLY IF YOU WANTED TO. IF HE! if he.. wanted to, i mean. yes."

❀ and that is how he found himself sat in your living room floor two weeks later, playing legos with your son

❀ he knew he couldn't be with you just yet, not when he still has your son as his student

❀ but when he glances at you busily preparing food in the kitchen and at the little boy on the floor trying to make turtles out of legos, he knew he'd be able to wait for a bit more.

❀ you and kenma lived in the same apartment complex, on the same floor, separated by a single wall

❀ being a new mom living alone with her 3-month old child wasn't easy

❀ sleepless nights, panicked grocery runs, and a shit ton of noise complaints from your neighbor

❀ noise complaints in the form of small pieces of paper slipped through the crack of your door

❀ "pls quiet down, trying to sleep. ty"

❀ but it was one evening when kenma had a scheduled stream and your baby's been inconsolable for the last 45 minutes, her cries seeping through the thin walls and bouncing across kenma's flat that he decided to come over yours

he knocked at your door, annoyance clearly shown in the way his eyebrows are knitted in a frown

"can you please do quiet down a bit? i'm trying to stream and the mic's picking up your baby's... crying"

he couldn't help but notice your disheveled look; wrinkled shirt, eyebags and tear-stained cheeks while you held your child, rubbing circles on her back in an attempt to calm her down.

"i'm very very sorry, she hasn't been feeling well. i'm sorry for the trouble, i really am"

he couldn't possibly be mad at you still, he figured you had it really tough and kenma's not the type to deliberately make you suffer even more

with a sigh and a quiet, "it's fine, i guess", he went back to his unit, deciding to cancel the stream just this once

❀ that evening, kenma laid on his bed thinking about you, or your situation rather.

❀ you woke up the next morning with a bag of groceries hanging on your doorknob

❀ it was full of cupped ramen, gatorade, a couple jars of baby food and a note in the same neat handwriting

❀ "i'll be next door if u need any help"

❀ you continued finding random treats at your doorstep with little notes for a few more weeks

"i ordered too much, u can have it."

"sponsor sent some stuff i didn't need."

"friend brought food, couldn't finish it all."

❀ you find it sweet but couldn't help feeling guilty having to bother your quiet neighbor like this

❀ so you decided to post your own little note on your door, hoping he'd find it

❀ "what food do u like?"

❀ the same hour you put it up, you heard shuffling outside your door

❀ and as expected there was another bag of instant ramen with your note scribbled with his reply

❀ "apple pie"

❀ a week passed with radio silence between you two, even your baby has been cooperative enough in your mission of trying to make apple pie

❀ soon you found yourself in front of the door right beside yours, freshly baked apple pie in your mitten-clad hands and your daughter blubbering in her carrier on your back

you knocked.

"uhm hi, i'm y/n. i made some apple pie, figured you wanna share."

kenma's eyes were wide and his cheeks dusted pink the same shade of yours.

he ushered you inside and prepared two plates and forks for the both of you.

"thanks for the stuff" was your meek attempt at breaking the silence.

"it's nothing really"

you noticed him silently looking at your daughter whose hands found their way into her mouth

carefully placing her from your lap to kenma's you giggled as panic flashed in his eyes.

he held her nonetheless, smiling softly as she reached out a slobbered hand to his cheeks and letting out curious coos

❀ you both soon found comfort in each other's homes, coming and going as you both shared takeout, home-cooked meals and stories in between

❀ kenma's fondess for your child grew apparent in the way he'd let her crawl all over him and tug at his hair and the way he held her up just to hear her giggles and the way you'd find him passed out on your couch with your baby on his chest and a protective arm around her

❀ what wasn't obvious to you was the way he would stare at you lovingly as you tucked your daughter to sleep in her crib every afternoon, or the way his little notes turned to subtle love confessions

❀ or the way he's been building up the courage in asking you to move in to a new house together and be a real family.

[hyuniebaby]

Sweet Surrender

Pairings: Baekhyun x Y/N, Jongin x Y/N

Based loosely on: Sweet Surrender by Against the Current

Summary: Maybe moving on from Baekhyun isn’t so bad, especially when Jongin’s by your side.

Word Count: 2.7k

Sequel of Hopeless

A/N: Here it is, finally! Fun fact: I started writing this last November and I only finished it today. I stopped writing for a while because I got too busy with work and everything so I’m sorry if it took long. In my defense, Hopeless was supposed to be a oneshot but I can’t get enough of OC and Jongin so... 😅 I hope you all enjoy this!!!

Tagging: @bbhmystar​

You scrunched your eyebrows because of the headache you were having, but you tried to pay it no mind. You remained still for a couple of minutes, trying to get back to sleep but to no avail. You didn’t really want to get up yet, much less open your eyes.

You started to wonder why you were having a headache in the first place. You didn’t even drink that much last night so it was definitely not a hangover, but then again, you sure did cry a lot. Maybe the headache was from dehydration, you thought.

You frowned as you tried to recall what happened the night before, trying to think of the reason why you cried. But because of your grogginess, your mind came out blank.

Before you could think further, you realized you felt warm even without your duvet.

Usually, you never feel this warm even during summer, unless of course you were wrapped in your beloved duvet. So waking up and feeling this way was strange for you. For some reason, anxiety filled you instantly. This wasn’t normal, this wasn’t right.

With a racing heart, you immediately got up and tried opening your puffy eyes.

The first thing you saw was Jongin looking ethereal as he slept peacefully beside you.

Only then did you remember requesting Jongin to stay with you last night, as well as the reason you asked him to do so. Your panic quickly subsided, however, it was replaced with pain and shame.

Naturally, you felt pain because, well, who wouldn’t? Especially when you’ve fallen so hard for your best friend who didn’t just reciprocate your feelings but also had fallen equally hard to a different person.

You felt shame too, because you let yourself fall this hard, only to realize it was futile when it was already too late.

Shame, because you let yourself get hurt this badly. And shame because Jongin saw it all.

Jongin saw you at your most vulnerable.

Sure, he had already seen you cry because of Baekhyun before, but last night was different. Last night, your heart had finally been broken down after all the instances where you let Baekhyun unintentionally leave cracks in it.

Last night was the final straw. Last night your heart had finally been shattered into tiny, little pieces.

If love was a war, last night was the night you had finally waved the white flag. You had surrendered.

You suddenly felt like crying again at the thought of Baekhyun. Tears were already forming in your eyes, but before they could even drop, Jongin had pulled you in an embrace.

One minute he was asleep and the next, here he was, consoling you. It was as if he could sense when you’re feeling sad. It was as if he had a sensor that gets triggered when you’re unhappy.

It was always like this with Jongin, he always came at the right time to whisk you away when you were in pain, no matter the intensity or reason of the pain. Most especially if the reason was Baekhyun.

Baekhyun had been in and out of many relationships already, each one leaving you more and more pained. While the girls — his girls — came and left, you were the one who remained, because you’re the best friend. And as much as it hurts you to admit, you know that’s all you’ll ever be.

Each and every time you cried over him, your mind would start to drift into a dark place. You’d hear voices in your head telling you how you weren’t as pretty as the last girl he dated, how you weren’t as experienced as the second girl he’d been with, how you weren’t funny, smart or nice enough, how you’ll never be his type. And each and every time this happened, you would lock yourself up in your room.

The four walls in your room were suffocating, but it was far more dangerous to be locked up in the cellar your mind built out of failure and shame. Your mind tended to get very dark sometimes; it was hard for any light to penetrate through it.

“Sweetheart?” Jongin called you.

You didn’t even hear it the first few times he called. You were too deep in your thoughts. Only when he started to rub your back and softly said, “It’s okay, you’re going to be okay,” along with the soft murmur of your name did he finally coax you out of your negative thoughts.

It has been a while since you last heard your name from Jongin’s lips. He has called your Sweetheart for as long as you could remember. And there was something in the way he tenderly said it that brought you back to reality.

With or without saying your name though, Jongin always found a way to bring you out of the prison you isolated yourself in.

No matter how bad your headspace got, he was always able to rescue you. No matter how dark your mind became, he would do what he can to bring back your light.

You feel yourself calming down a few moments later. “I’m sorry, I woke you up,” you murmured.

“That’s not a problem. Do you mind telling me what’s bothering you though?”

“Well…” You bite your lips. “I-I’m just s-so l-lame,” you say as your lips quivered.

“Sshh, you’re not lame, sweetheart.”

“But I am! I know what I’m s-supposed to d-do. I know I-I-I’m supposed t-to move o-on, b-b-but I can’t. I’m so ho-hopeless,” You stammered.

“Moving on is a long process… You’re already doing great since you know what to do. Admitting to yourself that you should move on is the first step. While that is hard, actually doing it is completely harder. Just take it easy. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”

Was he right? Should you believe him?

“You know what, let’s do something fun today.”

You looked at him, hesitating. Jongin’s definition of fun was rather unpredictable. While yours was to get piss drunk and party, to him fun was building legos from dusk to dawn. Regardless of the differences, you wouldn’t deny that time with him was worthwhile.

“I promise you’re going to enjoy it!” Jongin urged.

“Fine. As long as it doesn’t involve being out in the open for an extended period of time.”

Just like that you started preparing for the day with Jongin.

He didn’t bring up Baekhyun or what happened last night. He didn’t question anymore why you were on the verge of crying a while ago. He didn’t force you to talk, instead, he let you know he’s there for you.

The car ride to the location Jongin wanted to go to was silent, but the comfortable kind of silent. It was so quiet that you had unconsciously fallen asleep.

When the two of you arrived at the destination, Jongin gently shook you to wake you up, “Sweetheart, we’re here.” He said softly.

You pouted, you didn’t want to wake up yet. Crying always made you tired.

Jongin then cupped your cheeks as he said, “Come on now, I promised you’d have fun, right? I’ll make sure you get your rest after this.”

You tentatively opened one eye. Jongin was giving you the softest look and the gentlest caress on your cheeks. Then he gave you the sweetest smile. You opened your other eye, feasting on the sight of the man. Despite your feelings for Baekhyun, you couldn’t and wouldn’t deny that Jongin is attractive.

“Alright then. I’m counting on you.”

You both got out of the car. Jongin led you to the front door of a house you’ve never been before. He knocked three times before the door opened.

“Jongin we’ve been waiting for you!” Jongin’s sister greeted him. “Oh Y/N, darling, what a surprise! Come in, come in.” She welcomed you. But shortly after, she bid you and Jongin goodbye as she had to go elsewhere for the day.

Once you stepped in her house, Jongin got tackled by two cute little beans. “Kaichun!” They exclaimed.

Jongin laughed and scooped them in a hug. “Raeon, Rahee, how have you been?”

They answered excitedly, almost shouting at Jongin. He chuckled at their energy. “I’m glad you’re both doing fine!” Then he looked over at you, the children followed his line of sight immediately. “Do you remember my friend, Y/N? Why don’t you guys go and greet her?”

It was comical how the kids had suddenly switched from being loud and boisterous to quiet and reserved. They grabbed onto Jongin’s legs, shyness overcoming them. They quietly greeted you.

You couldn’t help but giggle at their cuteness. You stepped in closer to them and crouched down to reach their level. You ruffled their hair, “Oh my, aren’t you two the cutest?”

A faint blush could be seen on the children’s faces because of your compliment.

“Y/N is going to play with us today,” Jongin singsonged. They immediately perked up at the prospect of having a new playmate. In the blink of an eye, the kids were grabbing your hands and leading you to their playroom, leaving behind Jongin.

“Ya, don’t you want to play with me too?” Jongin whined.

You and the two kids giggled at him. “No!” The kids collectively yelled.

Jongin huffed in feigned annoyance but then immediately ran to keep up with the kids. When they noticed this, they ran and giggled, all the while not letting go of your hands.

That was how the cat and mouse chase started. Somehow in the middle of it all, the game shifted from Jongin chasing you and the kids to the kids chasing the adults. You didn’t even know why they ended up chasing you too, but you still indulged them in the little game.

When you noticed the kids getting tired, you slowed down your pace and pretended to pant hard. Jongin followed suit almost instantly. Raeon and Rahee caught up with you and Jongin, squealing “Gotcha!” as they did.

You and Jongin grunted and whined but it was short lived because soon enough, Jongin had convinced them to play another game that didn’t involve running around.

A round of indoor bowling and some random board game later, the kids had tired down but they refused to sleep.

“So what do we do now?” You whispered to Jongin.

“It’s time to watch a movie.”

You looked at him incredulously. “Are you sure about that? Shouldn’t we just tuck them to bed or something?”

He only grinned and said, “Trust me, they’ll fall asleep within minutes.”

True enough, the movie lulled the children to sleep. Now it was only you and Jongin who was awake.

“Are you hungry? Do you want to eat something?” Jongin asked.

“Not really, but I do want something sweet though.”

“Ah, a sweetheart.”

You raised your brow, “You mean sweet tooth, right?”

For a moment Jongin didn’t react and then he started shaking. You could tell he was laughing but without noise so he wouldn’t wake the kids up. Instead of laughing out loud like he usually did, he was smacking his legs uncontrollably. It didn’t take you long enough to laugh with him for his idiotic tendencies.

When he finally recovered from his laughing fit, he wiped the happy tears in his eyes and then said, “What exactly do you want to eat? Do you want to order from the cafe two blocks away?”

You contorted your face. You were really picky with your sweets so usually you only ate pastries that you bake. “I’m not so sure…”

As if Jongin knew what was going inside your head, he asked, “Do you want to bake instead? We can use my sister’s kitchen.”

You perked up. “Really?”

“Yeah, it’ll be fine as long as we clean up afterwards,” Jongin said. “Come on.”

You grinned and followed him to the kitchen where you immediately went to work.

Apparently Jongin’s sister was passionate about baking too because she has everything in her pantry, including the brands of the ingredients that you loved to use. You couldn’t help but get awed.

“What?” Jongin curiously asked as he saw you with your mouth wide open.

You only smiled and shrugged in response. Then you started taking out the ingredients needed to bake chocolate chip cookies.

You were mixing all the ingredients except for the flour and chocolate chips when you leaned in to smell the mixture. You knew it wasn’t necessary and sure, it was weird but you couldn’t help but chase the smell of the vanilla extract.

But before you could even stand straight up again, Jongin dumped the flour he had carefully measured in the bowl right in front of your face. The abrupt motion sent a portion of the powder flying right on your face.

You were both so shocked at what happened that for a few moments you two only looked at each other with mouths wide open. And when you had finally gathered your wits, you whisper-yelled, “Jongin!”

That was the cue for Jongin to laugh. But you were having none of it, so you stretched your arm — to clamp his mouth shut or to punch his arm, you weren’t sure. But the movement caused panic to him and he sprinted.

You had no other choice but to run after him to get your revenge. This time you were sure you were going to punch him. Every now and then he’d pause to apologize while laughing but you both knew you weren’t going to be satisfied until you get your revenge.

You should have known there was something wrong bound to happen because of how clumsy Jongin was. Because just as Jongin was rounding the kitchen counter, he elbowed the container with the measured chocolate chips. You watched in horror as the chocolate chips fell into the floor. The poor, innocent, sweet little pieces of delight had gone to waste. “Oh no!” you squeaked.

When Jongin saw the mess he managed to make, all he could mutter was “Oops.”

You instantly kneeled to clean up the mess, mumbling sadly about the poor fate of the chocolate chips. It took you some time to actually finish the task so you weren’t aware of the fact that Jongin was fondly looking at how cute you were and taking photos of you.

It took a few minutes for Jongin to snap out of his trance and when he did, he immediately went to help, but you were almost done by then.

Jongin was expecting you to snap at him or scold him like you usually did when he wasn’t careful enough, but he was surprised when you looked at him with a pout.

The look on your face sent Jongin into protective mode. He was assuming you had remembered something about Baekhyun again that made you feel sad.

Before he could even ask though, you whimpered, “The chocolate chips…”

Jongin just blinked upon hearing your voice. You were upset because of... chocolate chips? And not because of Baekhyun? He couldn’t be any more relieved.

A smile found its way into his face. He pat your head affectionately, “That’s alright, my sister has plenty.”

“But—”

“Why don’t we finish up baking your cookies, huh, sweetheart?”

You completely forgot about baking because of Jongin’s shenanigans! Your eyes widened in realization. You quickly went over to the mixing bowl and continued making the cookie dough.

A soft chuckle escaped Jongin’s lips at that. He proceeded to tidy up the counter and return the ingredients that weren’t needed anymore.

It was all work after that. You worked on the cookies while Jongin washed the utensils that were used.

When the cookies were done and had been cooled off, both of you grabbed a piece. You waited until Jongin took a bite before you did, wanting to see if he liked the taste or not.

It only took a couple of seconds after biting the treat before he had put on a big bright smile. One fact about Jongin’s smile was that it was contagious, therefore you find yourself smiling back at him. And for some reason, his smile had made your heart stutter against your chest. You couldn’t stop this one thought from popping on your mind: Maybe letting go of your feelings for Baekhyun wasn’t so bad.

[eminems-skittles]

target run [ bau family au]

bau family au  warnings: none word count: 1.7k

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

"Do you guys remember what I said?" David said, his eyes moving up to the rear view mirror to look at the five kids in the backseats.

"No messing around," Six voices droned in unison.

"Perfect," Rossi said smiling as he pulled into a parking spot.

"Do we have to all stick together?" Aaron asked from the passenger seat. His earbuds, hanging out of the collar of his shirt, played a vaguely familiar rap song that David could just barely hear.

"No but someone does have to stay with your little brother," David said, earning a groan from the seat behind Aaron.

"But dad," Spencer whined, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm almost nine years old. I can go off by myself."

"Says the kid sitting in the booster seat," Derek mumbled, earning a smack on the arm from Penelope and a giggle from Emily. JJ shook her head disapprovingly but there was a trace of a smile at her brother's antics.

"Spence, wanna come look at the toys with me?" Penelope asked, leaning across Derek so she could see Spencer. The question cause Spencer's face to light up and he nodded excitedly.

"Alright, let's go," David said, getting out of the car. Aaron and Emily were next out.

"Aaron?" Spencer called for his big brother.

"What is it buddy?" Aaron asked, pulling his head phone out of his ear.

"Can you give me a piggyback?" Spencer asked while unbuckling his seatbelt.

Without saying anything, Aaron turned around and crouched down. Spencer threw his arms around his big brother's shoulders and jumped up slightly. His tiny hands clutched the black and white flannel that Aaron was wearing. Aaron laughed and held onto the little boy's legs.

"Hey! I never get piggybacks!" Penelope complained.

"He's my favorite," was all Aaron said as he walked toward the store. The rest of the kids followed suit and branched off to go off on their own. Penelope walked next to Aaron and Spencer, talking animatedly about the newest episode of the anime her and Spencer were watching. When the trio got to the toy section, Aaron set Spencer on the ground and started to walk away. Before he got too far he turned around facing Penelope and Spencer, laughing at the contrast of their appearances. Penelope was dressed in what Aaron swore was all JoJo Siwa merch, although whenever he mentioned it to Penelope she'd deny it profusely. As if they planned to be polar opposites, Spencer was wearing a grey sweater vest he had gotten for Christmas with a blue long sleeve underneath it and khaki pants that were a little too big for him. The only pop of color Spencer was wearing were the beat up pair of purple Chucks he wore every day. "Don't get into too much trouble and remember-"

"If we see you, no we don't," Spencer finished, the corners of his mouth tugging into a small smile. Aaron smiled back before spinning on his heel, popping his earbud back into his ear.

"Where do you think Derek went?" Penelope asked, her eyes trained on a lego set.

"Probably to the sports section or he's following Dad around," Spencer replied. "Why?"

"I still have to get him a birthday present. Do you think he'd like this?" Penelope held up a box of legos for Spencer to look at.

"He hasn't opened the set you and JJ got him for Christmas," Spencer said, shaking his head, a pout forming on his face. "He won't let me play with them."

"I'll just get him a sticker or something," Penelope sighed defeated. "Do you think Dad will let us get a toy?"

"I dunno," Spencer shrugged.

——–

"I'm telling you, Em, she's out to get me," JJ complained as they milled around the junior section.

"Strauss isn't out to get you," Emily said, holding up a top for JJ. JJ cringed at it, shaking her head.

"Yes she is! Last week, I labelled my paper Unit One instead of the actual unit name and she gave me an F on the assignment even though I got all of the questions right," JJ groaned.

"That's probably Aaron and I's fault," Emily stated. "At least you don't have Mrs. Barnes. She hates me so much. Probably because she had Aaron last year and I'm nothing like him."

"You mean you're not a quiet straight A student?" JJ asked, quirking an eyebrow. "Can we go over to the sports aisle? I need to get a new ball since Will kicked mine onto the roof of the gym during practice yesterday."

"I still think he likes you," Emily teased, nudging her shoulder as they walked towards the sports gear.

"No he doesn't," JJ blushed.

"Oh my god! You like him too!" Emily said, poking her sister's cheek. JJ swatted her hand away, her eyes staring widely at Emily.

"Can you please be quiet?!" JJ asked, frantically looking around to make sure no one heard. She stopped abruptly when her eyes landed on her brother just a few aisles away from them. "Hey, who's Aaron talking to?"

——–

"Derek, why don't you go find your brother?" David asked as Derek threw random snacks into the cart. "I can do this myself."

"If you say so," Derek said laughing. "See ya later, pops!"

Derek ran down the aisle toward the toys to find Spencer and Penelope, his shoes squeaking every now and then. When he saw they weren't at the toy section, he ran through the whole store looking for them. Eventually, he found them near the sports aisle, huddled close together with JJ and Emily. He quietly walked up to them, careful not to make any noise.

"What are you guys doing?" He asked causing his brother and sisters to jump and turn to face him. Emily pulled his arm down so he was level with all of them. "What are we looking at?"

"Aaron has been talking to this girl for like fifteen minutes," Emily explained, her voice hushed. She pointed to where Aaron and the mystery girl were standing. She had short blonde hair and was wearing high waisted mom jeans and a white t-shirt.

"Who is she?" Derek questioned.

"Her name is Haley. Haley Brooks. She's the reason Aaron auditioned for the play," JJ whispered.

"We should go say hi," Penelope stood up, beginning to walk over to her older brother. Before she could get even half a step away, she was being dragged back to her spot.

"Absolutely not, Pen. Aaron can't know we saw him," JJ whisper-yelled.

"Why not?" Spencer asked, pulling on JJ's sleeve.

"Because he really likes her so we aren't going to ruin it," JJ said, looking down at her younger brother.

"Speak for yourself," was all Emily said before she stood up and walked over to Aaron and Haley.

"Hey Em!" Haley greeted. Emily winced at the nickname. Only her siblings could call her Em.

"Hey...Hal," Emily said, forcing a smile on her face.

"Why is she smiling like that?" Penelope whispered from where they stood.

"She's not Haley's biggest fan," JJ whispered. "Now, shush. I'm trying to listen."

"What's up, Emily?" Aaron asked, an annoyed smile settling on his face. Emily turned to face Aaron, her back completely to Haley.

"Spencer's looking for you. He needs help getting something. Says you know where it is," Emily lied.

"No I do-" Spencer was cut off by JJ shushing him.

"Okay, I'll be right there. I'm sorry Haley, but I gotta go help him," Aaron apologized.

"I can come with if you-"

"He can do it by himself," Emily cut her off before walking away.

"I'll see you at rehearsal," Aaron said to Haley before following Emily to where everyone else was waiting eagerly. "What do you need help with, buddy?"

"I don't need help," Spencer stated as if it was obvious.

"Then why did Emily practically drag me away from Haley?" Aaron questioned, turning to glare at his twin sister.

Deciding to not answer with 'because I hate your girlfriend,' Emily went with a much more logical approach. "Would you rather have us drag you away from your girlfriend or Dad?"

"Fair point," Aaron said with a smile.

The group of six wandered aimlessly around the store, having at least ten different conversations. They looped back to the front so they could grab a cart to fill with things they know Rossi would never let them get. Aaron and JJ, the responsible ones, were in charge of pushing the cart while everyone else threw random things into it.

"Emily tells me it's your fault Mrs. Strauss hates me," JJ says casually to Aaron.

"Uhh, maybe?"

"Great," JJ said rolling her eyes. "Hey, Spencer! Put that down!"

Spencer sighed, setting down the large glass ball he was about to throw at Derek. He looked at JJ and mumbled, "You're no fun."

"I could've caught it!" Derek muttered.

"Derek Morgan Rossi!" JJ exclaimed exasperatedly. "You are the older one, you know better than to egg him on."

"JJ, why don't you leave the parenting to me?" A voice said from behind them. They all turned around to find David standing with an almost full cart, an amused smile on his face. "But seriously, Derek, Spencer, you guys should listen to your sister."

"See!" JJ shouted, earning a few curious looks from other customers.

"What do you guys have there?" David asked, looking into the cart.

"Just some random things," Emily replied, tossing a tube of mascara into the cart.

"Okay, well let's go checkout," David said, before walking away.

"Wait, Dad!" Aaron said causing David to turn around. "Shouldn't we put this stuff away?"

"If you guys want it, you can get all of it," David said before turning back around and continuing his journey to the checkout. The six children shared looks of disbelief before following their dad.

After checking out, pushing three carts of bags (they had to get a third after they paid) and stuffing the car full of their goodies, they were on the way back to their house. The car was filled with excited chatter, everyone discussing the stuff they got.

"I have a question," Rossi said, grabbing the children's attention. "Who's Haley?"

[roughentumble]

geralt and roachie

@avrupasya​ asked for a fic/continuation of this post of mine, where modern au geralt’s roach is a stuffed animal. sortve told in, like, vignettes, i suppose?

[read on ao3 if you like!]

The one constant in Geralt's short, stressful life, is Roachie. The little brown stuffed horse, named after a fish with similarly colored eyes("I'm gonna' study animals when I'm big!" he proclaims to anyone who will listen, which isn't many, so he whispers it into his horse's mane instead) has been with him long enough that he has no memories without her in some peripheral corner-- clenched in his fist, sitting on his blanket, overflowing from a fit-to-bursting pocket of his shorts. She's been with him through two houses now. He likes to think that she was given to him the day he was born, that they'd never been separated, but he can hardly ask anyone for confirmation. It's just one of those certainties you hold in your heart as a child.

So of course, for his seventh birthday, a dog eats her.

(The kicker is that it isn't even his birthday. It's a government assigned day that may or may not be in the vicinity of the actual day of his birth. It's not like he was dropped off at the fire station with paperwork or anything. He is vaguely, sort of, aware of this, just enough that it feels like an extra kick while he's down.)

She is utterly and completely beyond repair. Her shape isn't even recognizable, and for all his inconsolable tears, she's gathered up and unceremoniously dumped in the trash.

He cries when he finds her, cries through dinner, cries late into the night, cries until he is informed by one of his caretakers through what seems to be a rather impressive headache that if he doesn't stop crying, he would be "given something to cry about," which...

He already had something to cry about. Hence the crying.

He chews on his fist, however, startled into silence by the shouting, and hiccups softly into his pillow. Even as he's left alone, in the dark, he can't settle-- the thought of Roach thrown away like garbage is one that just doesn't sit right with him. He waits until the house is silent, into the wee hours of the morning, then sneaks on silent feet to the kitchen. He rustles through the trash as quietly as he can, pulling out pieces of his old friend, now not simply in tatters but also covered in what was left of dinner.

He nearly loses it at the sight of her, destroyed and filthy. Tears well in his eyes, blurring the world around him, and he sniffles once, weakly, but he doesn't want to wake anyone, and who knows what they'd do if they found him rooting through the trash, so he steels his resolve. Stomps down on the urge to give into another round of crying fits.

The night air is cold against his hot, sticky face. It's refreshing, but he barely notices it as he shuffles into a far corner of the yard. He digs a shallow hole with his hands and reverently lays her body inside. He covers her back up, tamps the earth back down with his palms, and then sits back on his heels. He's a little too young to fully understand what goes on in a funeral-- he's never seen one before, after all-- but he's seen TV, and he knows you're supposed to say something nice, so he says something to the effect of "Roachie was the bestest friend, an' the prettiest horse, there ever was in the whole entire world," and then sits in silence for a few moments longer, sniffling in the cold night air.

He suddenly recalls headstones, and he doesn't have any rocks-- doesn't know how to carve words into one-- but he does see a stick nearby. He shoves it in the ground like a stake and looks over his work. About as good as any grave dug by a seven-year-old could hope to be. He stays there until the cold starts making the tip of his nose and the joints of his fingers hurt, and then he stumbles back inside and curls up in bed.

He's moved to a new house a week later.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

He starts skipping lunches. He goes to school hungry, and comes home hungrier, and devours his dinners in this new house voraciously.

Every penny that would be spent on school lunches gets shoved in his pocket, then consolidated and shoved in his sock drawer when he gets home. Once he's gotten a decently-sized pile, he gathers it all up in his tiny little fists, shoves it in his pockets, and walks all the way to the local thrift store.

He'd gotten it into his head, somehow, that Roach still existed. Some childish idea that'd popped into his head as a comfort, and that got ingrained in his mind as he repeated it to himself over and over at night. He'd seen the rags, of course, what'd become of her after the dog had had it's way, he knew she was buried in the dirt a state away... but the core "soul" of his Roachie, that'd been with him and loved him and cared for him, was out there, in some other brown stuffed horse, waiting to be found again.

He marches into the toy section in the back of the thrift store with the determination of a soldier on a rescue mission.

And at the bottom of the bin, underneath all the teddy bears and off-brand babydolls, is one single brown stuffed horse.

Logic would dictate a coincidence-- but to his little eyes it looks a lot like magic.

He snatches her up instantly and runs to the front of the store, lest anything come and rip her from his arms again. He has to stand on his tip-toes, but he pushes her up on the counter, then pushes over the pile of money and asks if it's enough. The old lady looks at his pile, then pushes her glasses down the bridge of her nose to get a better look at the tag on the horse's ear. She squints, then glances at his wide, desperate eyes. "Well!" She announces. "Would you look at that. That's the exact right amount. Must be fate." Then winks down at him.

He gasps loudly, eyes getting impossibly wider. Fate-- Roach really had been waiting for him! He reaches up and makes a grabbing motion with his hands. "Can, can I... can I hold her, then?"

"She's all yours." The woman says gently, and places it in his waiting arms.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Roach stays with him all the way to the doorstep of the Kaer Morhen Home for Wayward Boys. He's thirteen, and she has a few weak seams, a few patches where the fur's been worn away. She's heavily loved, and he hasn't spent a night without her since they were "reunited". He's worn as well-- tired of the constant cycle of new places, new "families".

A few months later, with no prospect of leaving in sight, he takes back his wish for someplace permanent.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

He rooms with a boy named Eskel, who is about the only bright spot in Kaer Morhen, as far as Geralt is concerned. He is only mildly mocking of a thirteen year old sleeping with a stuffed animal every night, and it's mostly companionable ribbing, so even though the thought of anyone mocking Roachie gets under his skin, he lets it go. Eskel is his friend, after all. Of course, though, because that's the way of the world, some older boys overhear Eskel's teasing.

He comes back to his and Eskel's room that night, expecting to find Roach under his pillow-- he's too old to carry her everywhere, now, so that's where she lives-- and instead she's strewn across his bed.

He's old enough, now, to know that it maybe looks a little ridiculous from the outside, but he's too upset to be self-conscious, and Eskel is nothing if not understanding as Geralt sobs into his shoulder that night, quiet except for the occasional little soothing noise as he strokes a hand up and down Geralt's trembling back.

It's unsalvageable, at least for their inexperienced hands. Neither of them is a seamstress. After lights out, Geralt sneaks out-- this time with Eskel in tow-- and creeps into the backyard. Just like last time, he silently digs a hole and places her inside. That's what you do with Roaches, after all-- you bury them, then you find her all over again. The idea of Roach not existing out there, somewhere, is inconceivable.

He curls up next to Eskel that night, and it isn't the same, and he doesn't quite sleep... but it helps.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

His first Roach had been about the side of a Beanie Baby, and had been a light, palomino sort of color. His second had been more the size of a Build-A-Bear, with slightly stiff limbs and brown fur so dark it was nearly black. The third time he finds Roach, she's a reddish sort of Bay, peeking out at him from behind a large Lego set on the thrift store shelf.

He'd already searched the bins three times and had come up empty-handed, not even a miscolored unicorn, or something else close-but-wrong to show for his efforts, and... there she is, sitting right there, like it's some sort of game. He gasps, and Eskel turns away from the slightly melted Barbies he'd been toying with at the sound. Geralt shoves the box aside and grabs at her, cradling her carefully in his hands. She's already a little on the worn side this time around-- one eye's a bit loose-- and she's right in the middle, size-wise, compared to her other two incarnations.

He loves her instantly.

It must show on his face, because Eskel laughs a little and throws an arm around his shoulders. "So, is this the fated horse, then?" He asks, teasing.

"Yeah," Geralt replies breathlessly, too excited to meet the teasing tone back, "I think so."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Lambert shows up when he's thirteen and they're both sixteen.

He's loud, and violent, and instantly hones in on Geralt's preternaturally graying hair and the shock of white growing out of the back of his head(poliosis, born from stress, though none of them know that term). He's inhumanly annoying, a real pain in the ass, and somehow, against all odds, Geralt and Eskel both instantly adore him.

Maybe it's the way he talks back to their "caregivers", or the way he sometimes gets into fights on smaller kids' behalf, who knows, but the three of them form a little clique fairly quickly. Lambert pretends it's begrudging, but it's not hard to see that it's mostly a front. He's a brat, through and through, but he's their brat.

Which is why he's even in their room-- they're all hanging out, Geralt flipping through a book and Eskel attempting to study, while Lambert fiddles with Roach. He turns her over in his hands, examines the spot where the loose eye had fallen off a year back, picks at one of her loose seams. "I just don't get it," he says, scrunching up his nose, "like. What does it do?" He asks.

"Be careful with her." Geralt says, flicking a glance over at Lambert before returning to his book. "And she doesn't do anything. She's a stuffed animal, she just sits there."

"Well, yeah, no duh." Lambert replies, rolling his eyes. "I'm not stupid." Eskel mumbles 'Could've fooled me,' from his own bed, and Lambert hisses back 'Watch it,' and kicks his leg as he snickers. "I mean, what do you do with it? Give it wots and wots of hugs and kissews?" He asks mockingly. He's holding her by the front legs, wiggling them up and down like some sort of dance and shoving her in Geralt's direction. He's about to tell Lambert to knock it off, trying to bat him out of the way to continue reading when, one of her legs just... pops off. There's a stunned moment where Lambert just stares at the two pieces in his hands.

A strangled noise works its way out of Geralt's throat, and he snatches Roach out of Lambert's hands.

"I-- I didn't mean..." He tries, looking between Geralt and Eskel helplessly, but the tears are already welling up as Geralt clutches her closer to his chest.

"Oh, shit," Eskel mutters and scrambles to his side drawer, which hides in the bottom a small sewing kit. Lambert slips out of the room in between Geralt sobbing and Eskel rushing to reattach the limb.

The fabric is weak enough around the seam, and Eskel is inexperienced enough at sewing, that the limb is noticeably shorter than the rest, but she's whole and in one piece by the end of the night.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Lambert awkwardly shuffles in place in their doorway the next day. "I-- fuck, man, I really didn't mean to..." He mutters, rubbing at the back of his neck.

Geralt holds Roach a little closer. "It's fine," he says tersely, "but no one's allowed to touch Roach anymore. Ever." He says firmly.

"Yeah, no, that works." Lambert tentatively steps into the room and then, when he isn't shooed out and no one starts crying, grows a bit bolder, sitting down on the edge of Eskel's bed. "I mean, except for nursemaid Eskel over here, right?" He says jokingly, and earns himself a punch on the shoulder from Eskel.

"Piss off, ya' little brat." He mutters fondly.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Years pass and Geralt and Eskel age out of Kaer Morhen. They get an apartment, split the costs, because they've basically never not shared a room, and they need all the shoulders to lean on they can get. All they really get is each other, so they settle for that. A few more years and Lambert is shoved out at the healthy age of eighteen-- just like they were. He's invited to their little apartment, and he's loud, and complains that he went from one roommate to two, bitches about how they're both sticks-in-the-mud who don't know how to have fun, and that they snore, and that he'll never get a good night's rest.

It's exactly what they were missing, and Roach watches all of it from her spot on the shelf near Geralt's bed.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Then, Geralt meets Jaskier.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The first time Jaskier comes over, Eskel and Lambert are both at work, so they have the apartment to themselves. Geralt opens the fridge to pull out two beers, and Jaskier flounces past him towards the shared bedroom. "I'm gonna' go root through your stuff without permission." He announces teasingly as he opens the door and slips inside.

Geralt snorts and rolls his eyes, taking his time popping open both bottles. He hears an exaggerated 'oooohh, interesting,' from the other room and carries the beers to his room. "There's really not much here to see." He says as he bumps the door open with his hip.

"Oh, I don't know about that." Jaskier replies from his place on Geralt's bed. "Who's this little cutie, huh?" His tone is light, teasing, and he's got Roach in his lap, playing with her ears.

Panic crawls up Geralt's throat-- she's old, now, and her ears were always a weak point. It's been years since he was sixteen, and her leg had come off so easily back then, so now... he shouts something strangled at Jaskier, maybe 'no' or 'stop', he isn't really sure, and Jaskier looks up with wide, startled eyes. He rushes over and drops the bottles on his night stand before scooping Roach out of Jaskier's hands. He doesn't yank-- terrified of what might happen to her stitching if he did-- but he isn't nice about it either.

He ignores Jaskier's stammering entirely, swiping his hand across her shelf to make sure there isn't any dust, before carefully sitting her precisely where she'd been. His hands tremble a little as they hover in the air in front of her, waiting to make sure she didn't fall, glancing over her to make sure nothing was out of place, that she still had all her limbs. After a moment, he lets out a shaky breath and steps back from the shelf.

"No one touches Roach." He says firmly.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know," Jaskier starts, and Geralt whirls on his heel, grabs Jaskier's wrist.

"Swear it." He says, squeezes Jaskier's wrist tight. "Swear you won't touch her."

"I won't." He sounds a little mystified at the afternoon's sudden turn, but he gently places his other hand over Geralt's. "I promise."

Geralt deflates a little with relief, loosens his grip and lets Jaskier's wrist slip from between his fingers. "She's..." he starts quietly, eyes averted, guilt and embarrassment creeping in over his sudden outburst. "She's really fragile. I... I didn't mean to... just, please don't touch her." He finishes weakly.

Jaskier agrees once more, reaches out and squeezes Geralt's hand reassuringly. They drink their beer in the living room.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Months pass and his friendship with Jaskier deepens.

Then, he meets Yen.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Hmm." She says thoughtfully, arms crossed over her chest. "I like your stupid little horse."

Her tone is light, teasing, and it strikes him right through the heart all the same. But, at least she isn't trying to touch Roach. He pulls her down into his bed, and the conversation is forgotten.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

They dance around each other like that for far longer than either reasonably should. Fuck, then fight, then silent treatment, only to fall back into bed and start the cycle anew.

He cares, really he does, and he knows Yen cares back, in her own way, but it's just all so... much. It's a little hard to take, most nights. As he lays there, unable to sleep, he catches sight of Roach out of the corner of his eye. His bed is cold and lonely, and thoughts of Yen won't stop swirling around his mind, and he just... he just wants to feel settled. Before he can talk himself out of it, he's carrying Roach down off her perch and curling around her to sleep with his old friend for the first time in a long time.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A few months later, Jaskier uses his spare key to open the door to Geralt's apartment after a few rounds of knocking goes ignored.

He's got snacks, and a six-pack of beer that he deposits in the fridge, before calling out into the apartment, announcing his presence. He gets back a muffled 'in here,' and opens the door to the bedroom to find Geralt planted on the middle of his bed, Roach cradled carefully to his chest. "Sorry," he says weakly, sniffling into his palm, "I- I guess I forgot we were supposed to hang out."

Jaskier's by his side in a moment, kneeling in front of him on the bed, gently brushing his hair out of his face. "Oh, Geralt, what happened?"

He shrugs a little, helplessly. "Yen and I broke up." He pauses for a moment, rubbing little circles into the back of Roach's head, and then adds, "For good this time."

Jaskier reaches out and gathers Geralt up in his arms, lets him tuck his face in the crook of his neck. "I'm so sorry..." He mumbles, nosing into Geralt's hair.

"It's fine," Geralt replies weakly, voice cracking, "it was bound to happen sooner or later. We're kinda'... volatile."

Jaskier huffs out a humorless laugh. "Yeah, that you were..." The past-tense on Jaskier's tongue hits Geralt like a bolt to the chest, and he chokes out a sob. "Oh," Jaskier croons back, reaching up to cradle the back of his head, "oh, it's alright... it'll be alright..."

As he collapses forward into Jaskier's arms, he lets himself be soothed by Jaskier's voice, his arms enveloping him, and the softness of Roach's fur beneath his fingers.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A few months later they kiss for the first time there, on his bed, in full view of Roach, which doesn't occur to him until later, but once it does it makes some small part of him wish he'd turned her around. She's seen enough of him, she doesn't need front-row seats to... that.

Then he realizes that she was also there for Yennefer, and he feels a sudden surge of guilt mixed with a healthy dose of shame.

His poor little Roachie.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The first time they fuck in his room, Geralt pauses with his hands on Jaskier's hips, blushing faintly. "Do... do you mind if I...?" He asks nervously.

"What is it, dearest?" Jaskier asks lowly, smoothing his hands up and down Geralt's bare chest, eyes all want and smoldering heat.

Geralt clears his throat awkwardly and lets go of Jaskier for a moment to reach up and carefully turn Roach so she was facing the wall. It's deeply embarrassing, but he hasn't been able to stop thinking about it ever since he had the realization about his time with Yen. He turns back around, expecting to be mocked, but Jaskier looks nothing except fond.

He laughs a little, but not meanly, and wraps his arms around Geralt's neck. "Good call," he says, pressing a kiss into Geralt's cheek, "don't want to subject poor Roachie to anything she didn't sign up for."

The complete lack of judgement, paired with the nickname, has a surge of affection swelling in Geralt's chest. He grabs Jaskier by the hips once more, and gently tosses him onto the bed. Jaskier laughs again, delighted, and opens his arms to grab at Geralt, who happily follows after him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Geralt, look at this!" Jaskier announces from the couch, tilting his phone screen to the side as Geralt scoots closer and hooks an arm around his shoulders for easier viewing. "It's a stuffed animal repair service, but she runs a blog with pictures of the process and calls herself Doctor Beth. Isn't that the cutest thing?"

"Hmm." Geralt hums back. He glances at the screen, scrolls a little, but he quickly abandons it in favor of burying his face in Jaskier's neck and depositing kisses along its length.

Jaskier laughs and snuggles closer, but holds out his phone screen more insistently. "C'mon, Geraaalt," he whines, "you have to actually look. It's cute! You have to say it's cute."

Geralt flicks his eyes towards the screen once more, then away just as quickly as he deadpans the word "Adorable." right into the curve of Jaskier's jaw.

"You are the worst!" He announces, but he's grinning like a fool, and he turns his head into Geralt's affection all the same.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Once the kissing has died down, and Jaskier is seated side-saddle in Geralt's lap, he pulls his phone back out. "In all seriousness," he says, tucked up comfortably against Geralt's chest, "it's actually very interesting. She's really good at her job-- look at this, the bear's practically rags before she reconstructs it."

Instead of trying to distract Jaskier again, Geralt dutifully listens, watching the pictures as Jaskier flips through them. She is rather good, he has to admit, and there is something interesting in watching the stuffed animal go from rags to repaired, in the same way it's relaxing to watch an episode of How It's Made. He 'hmm's again, though it's a more thoughtfully, agreeing sort of ‘hmm’ this time.

"I've actually been following her blog for a little while now, and... I was just thinking..." Jaskier fiddles with the edge of his phone case, "maybe you could... send Roach to her, and--"

"No." He says, swift and firm. The playfulness has left his tone entirely, just the thought of sending Roach anywhere enough to make anxiety race through his chest and his palms turn clammy.

Jaskier's mouth twists into a frown. "Oh... sorry. I just... I know she's fragile and I thought this might help, so I--"

Geralt slides a hand up and down Jaskier's back soothingly. "It's alright. Thank you, for thinking of her, just... I... I can't."

He nods in return and straightens up to press a kiss to Geralt's cheek. "Alright, love, whatever you're comfortable with."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Now that Jaskier's said it, though, the thought won't leave Geralt's head. He scrolls through Doctor Beth's blog when he's alone, gets a feel for her track record.

Roachie is fragile now. Close to ten years with him, and she was already thin in some places before he got to her.

On the other hand, does he really trust some stranger on the internet to treat her right? What if she comes back wrong? What if, somehow, she doesn't come back Roach? He reaches out to run his thumb gently across her snout, looking to soothe himself, and watches as little tufts of fur come away under his feather-light touch.

He's already buried two Roaches. He really doesn't want to do again.

"Well, Roachie," he murmurs into the empty room, "third time's the charm, right?"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

He is the closest to a nervous wreck that Jaskier's ever seen him in the intervening weeks. He'd packed the box with Roach so delicately, gently surrounding her with bubble wrap so she didn't get knocked around and somehow lose pieces in shipping, and as soon as the box was shipped he took to pacing the apartment and checking his phone every twenty minutes. Jaskier thought it was endearing, if a bit worrying.

It drove Eskel and Lambert up a wall.

There were a lot of movie nights in those weeks in an effort to keep Geralt's mind off of things, but inevitably about halfway through the movie he'd get a bit of a distant look in his eyes and he'd reach down to feel his phone in his pocket, make sure it was where he'd be able to feel it if he got an email.

Waiting to confirm materials, what color cloth to use and what eye matched best with her other in his opinion, what to do about her now rather sparse tail and mane.

Jaskier would touch his arm gently, bring him back to the present, and he'd turn his attention back to the movie, maybe sling his arm around Jaskier's shoulders. It was nice, and very sweet to see him so very concerned, but Jaskier did wish he could do a little more to ease some of Geralt's worries.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

There are, as Jaskier recalls, a few posts where people had sent in video of the results, of them opening the box and seeing their little stuffed animal friend all fixed up. And he knows for a fact Geralt's going to be excited to see Roach again, so when the box finally arrives and Geralt sits down on the couch with it, Jaskier opens up the camera on his phone without much thought.

And then has to set it down almost immediately.

As soon as the box opens, before he could even get his hands on her, big, fat tears start rolling down Geralt's cheeks. Jaskier drops his phone on the table without even bothering to turn off the recording, rushing forward to envelop Geralt in a hug.

Geralt's hands grip the edge of the box so tightly his knuckles turn white, and Jaskier holds him closer, runs his fingers through Geralt's hair soothingly. "What is it, what's wrong?" He asks softly. Geralt shakes his head.

"She just-- she didn't even look this good when I first got her and I--" He's cut off by another sob, and Jaskier holds him a little tighter. "I just can't stop thinking about e- every time she... she broke and I couldn't fix her and I h- had to just... just buy a new one and I... I..."

"Shh, shhh..." Jaskier quiets him gently, pressing a kiss to his temple. "It's alright..."

"I know, I know, she just... she's like new, you know?" He says weakly into Jaskier's shoulder.

That gives Jaskier pause. "Love... are you," he asks incredulously, "are you crying because you're happy?" Geralt nods, and Jaskier can't help the little laugh that escapes him. "Oh, my dear heart..." He murmurs, almost sickeningly fond as he nuzzles into Geralt's hair. "Why don't you pick her up, then? I'm sure she missed you."

Geralt reluctantly pulls back from Jaskier's embrace to look down into the box.

She really does look good as new, and Geralt's almost afraid to touch her. Maybe the new stitching isn't as sturdy as it looks, maybe she'll fall apart in his hands, or maybe she just won't feel right... He sucks in a breath and carefully curls his hands around her. All his breath leaves him in a whoosh.

He holds her in his hands, and something he didn't even know was unsettled, settles in his chest.

As he presses her close to his chest, she still feels like Roach.

Except now she looks like herself again. Whole and complete and strong.

"Thank you," he turns to Jaskier and wraps an arm around him, tugging him in close while the other keeps a hold of Roach, "I never would've done this if you hadn't brought it up. I... Jask... thank you so much."

"Of course, love," he says gently, carding his fingers through Geralt's hair, "got to look out for dear Roachie... where would you be without her, hmm?"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"You know, she's so much sturdier now that she's all fixed up." Jaskier points out gently, after a few quiet moments have passed. "She could handle... well. Being handled more, again. She doesn't have to live up on that shelf anymore."

Which, kind of had been the whole point, but Geralt hadn't thought it through in so many words. The tears come back with a vengeance and he sniffles into Jaskier's shoulder, clutches her to his chest firmer than he's dared to in years.

That night, he falls asleep with Jaskier behind him, and his old friend clutched in his arms, and it's maybe a little silly, a little childish, but it's the best sleep he's had in his life.

[avengerscompound]

Running to a Standstill - 17

Running to a Standstill: A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count:  2050

Rating:  E

Warnings: Canon typical violence

Synopsis: While on the run from an unknown organization trying to take your son, you meet two super-soldiers.  While they try to help you get to the bottom of who is hunting you and your son, feelings come out and admissions are made that make your personal life even more tricky.

Chapter 17

“This is an act of war, Captain!”

Ophelia Sarkissian stood behind a small army.  Steve wasn’t too concerned, he had his own, and he’d already taken out more HYDRA than was remaining just getting to the self-proclaimed Queen of Madripoor.  She had no true claim to the throne, except that she decided to use her position as Madame HYDRA to take it.  She had also broken several international laws outside of the fact that she was leading a criminal organization that was officially disbanded under orders of the UN after world war two.  Not to mention the crimes of unauthorized human experimentation, human trafficking, and kidnapping.  This was a sanctioned mission.  There would be some time spent in international courts after this was through, but Viper as she liked to be called, was going to the Raft and she would stay there until the day she died.

Carol landed beside him and gave a short nod.  “Sarkissian,” Steve shouted.  “Give yourself up.  This has gone far enough.  You know you haven’t got a leg to stand on.”

“Madripoor doesn’t recognize your authority Captain,” Sarkissian snarled.  “Leave now.”

“I don’t know about you, Cap,” Carol said.  “But I think she talks a little too much.”

“I think you’re right, Captain,” Steve said. “Time to finish this.”

Carol took flight and barrelled into the group of HYDRA soldiers.  They went flying like pins in an alley.  “Stop them, you idiots!”  Sarkissian screamed as she shot a photon blast at Carol.

The soldiers that hadn’t been sent sprawling by carol had all quickly tossed back some pills.  Almost instantaneously the room erupted in chaos.  Carol and Viper were taking turns firing on each other.  The soldiers were changing.  Some bulking up.  Some grew tentacles or horns.  One on the far east side seemed to sprout wings from his back.  Steve threw his shield into the mass and began to fight.  He knew his agents were with him.  They began engaging in combat and he was very glad he’d taken the extra time to train his people to fight against enhanced soldiers.

He called his shield back and began fighting through the group to get to Viper.  Something sticky wrapped around his leg as he punched a guy who seemed to have had a crustacean-like shell form around him hard enough to crack the shell down the middle.  He slammed the shield down without looking and whatever grabbed him.  It let go and he vaulted over two more soldiers that seemed to have started growing fur.  He knew this battle wasn’t going to be a long one.  The drugs started to overload the soldier’s systems too fast and their bodies would start shutting down.  They were just trying to finish it first.  With Carol there, he did not doubt at all they’d be able to do it.  The problem was, Steve wanted to take them all alive.

He tossed his shield again, clearing a path to Viper who was now trying to escape through a secret door behind her throne.  Carol blasted the wall and Steve vaulted, first over two HYDRA agents and then the throne, catching his shield and slamming into Viper, knocking her sideways.  She caught herself before she fell and attacked him.  Carol began to circle the room taking out the mutated agents as Steve fought Viper one-on-one.  She wasn’t strong, but she was agile and highly trained.

“Do you think this will protect your beloved?”  Viper sneered as she parried with him.  “Or the child?  This is HYDRA, cut off one head…”

“And two more grow in its place,” Steve said in a bored voice, aiming a series of blows to her side.  “Save it.  I’ve heard it before.”

She flipped forward, aiming to put him in a thigh lock.  Steve reacted quickly, stepping to the side and using his shield to slam her straight down into the ground.  Steve used the back of his shield to hold her down.  “Ophelia Sarkissian, I take you into custody on behalf of the United Nations for crimes against humanity,” he said.  “And while you’re mulling things over on the Raft, you might want to let any of your colleagues that we don’t collect up today that Geo is not worth it.  Whatever you think that little boy can unlock, you’d have to go through the Avengers to get it, and this is what will come from it.”

Viper’s tongue pushed inside her cheek.  “Hail -”

He knew what was happening before he even realized he knew.  He quickly shoved his hand into her mouth, and she bit down into the glove, hard enough that if he was anyone else, she might have broken his fingers.  Carol landed beside him and raised her eyebrow.

“That’s a weird fighting technique, Steve,” she said.  “They teach you that in the army?”

Steve smirked as he grabbed the cyanide capsule between his pointer and middle finger and pulled it out of Viper’s mouth.  “Taught me to notice things.  Sorry to hear the Airforce was lacking in that department.”

Carol bit back an obvious laugh and looked around the room.   “I think we got them all. We might want to call in the cleanup crew.”

Steve nodded and let out a sigh of relief.  You would be safe now.  At least for a while. He just hoped you would be there when he got back.

The clean up took a long time.  Normally Steve was okay with that.  He never wanted to rush things when it came to cleaning up after a mission.  He wanted to make sure all the injured were treated, any dead were taken to a morgue, anyone arrested was processed and locked up.  All the I’s needed to be dotted and all the T’s crossed.  He had to make sure that what he had just fought to do, didn’t get immediately undone like had happened in the past.

This time he was antsy.  He needed to make sure everything was above board.  They had just taken a dictator out.  The power reshuffle could end up being dangerous.  He had to make sure every single person who was arrested today stayed locked up.  Particularly Viper.  He had to make sure all the drugs that were seized were processed and then destroyed and none ended up being taken and sold on the black market or worse, in the hands of yet another government agency hoping to recreate the super-soldier program.  He had to make sure that any data about the program that led to the creation of the drugs in the first place was locked up and kept out of the hands of any government agency.

Most importantly of all though, he had to make sure all names, including yours and Geo’s, were expunged from all data seized.  He had to protect you and anyone else that this had happened to, from ever being hunted again.

However, while he was supervising medics, and prisoner containment, and signing paperwork, and speaking with various authorities, he couldn’t stop thinking of you and Bucky.  He knew Bucky was okay.  He’d heard from every one of the other groups and knew they’d all been successful.  He knew that he was supervising the clean up in the same way Steve was.  He also knew exactly how Bucky got when he was on a mission.  He knew the dark place his lover went to.  He knew how long it took for Bucky to shake it off again.  Every time in the past Steve had wanted to hold him and tell him it was going to be okay.  That Steve had him and he always would.  But back then they were just friends and he wasn’t sure where the line was that would be okay.  Now he could do it and his mind kept flicking back to how he wanted to check on Bucky.  To hold him if he needed it.  Or to run a bath and wash the battle out of his hair.

More than that, he kept worrying about you.  Now he was on his way home he knew Bucky would be there.  He wasn’t as sure about you.  He was worried that you’d have run and that if you did run, that you’d have run straight into the arms of HYDRA.

Usually when the jet came into land at the Avengers Tower Steve was exhausted and ready to finish paperwork, debrief, and then sleep.  As the jet came into land, he was as tightly wound as he was when the mission started.

He was off the jet first, heading for the elevator before Hill managed to cut him off.  He rode it directly down to his floor and had to hold himself back from breaking into a run as he made his way to his apartment.  He threw the door open and looked around.  The only sound was the hum of the refrigerator and air conditioning.  Geo’s Lego was on the coffee table, but that meant nothing.  If you’d run you’d have taken the go-bag and little else.  He called out your name and moved into the room.  He knew you weren’t here even as your name left his lips, but he hoped that maybe he was wrong and you and Geo were just napping.

He tried to find some signs of what happened.  A note that might let him know where you went.  The signs of a scuffle would even be good because then it meant you hadn’t chosen to leave him.  There was nothing out of order.  The kitchen was clean.  He went into Geo’s room and looked around. The bed was made, but there were a lot of Geo’s toys around.  The teddy bear he slept with was on the bed.  He hoped that was something to say you hadn’t run, but the fact he couldn’t see Geo’s tablet anywhere was making his heart hammer in his chest.

The door opened and he spun around and practically launched himself back through the door to see who it was.  Bucky stepped through the door and Steve sagged.

“Wow, thought you’d be happy to see me,” Bucky said, a playful lilt in his tone.

Despite the tone, Steve felt bad.  He’d hoped it would be you and while he was of course happy to see Bucky back safe and sound, and even happier that he could be as playfully teasing as he was, it didn’t change the fact you weren’t here.  “It’s just…”

“Steeb!”

Geo’s voice reached him before you appeared behind Bucky holding the little boy.  Steve rushed to you, pulling up when he reached you and cradling your jaw.  “Oh my god,” he said. “I thought you’d left.”

You furrowed your brow and looked up at him, Geo was tugging on Steve’s armor, and he took the boy from you without even realizing he was doing it.  “You told me not to go out.”

“Where were you?”  He asked.

“FRIDAY said your jet had landed and I went up to meet you,” you explained. “And then Hill said you’d come down here, but then Bucky’s jet landed so we waited for him to come down here.  I’m sorry if I scared you.”

Steve shook his head.  “I should have trusted that you’d be here.”

“It’s okay,” you said softly, leaning in a little, so the breath you exhaled teased his lips. “I’m glad you’re both safe.”

He brought his lips to yours and as you kissed him softly but deeply he felt his muscles relax.  There would be work to do still. He had to make sure that Viper went to the Raft and everything he had done to protect you had worked, but this was the start of things.  You were safe and here with Bucky.  The three of you could have a life together.

You pulled back slowly and caressed his cheek.  “You both look like shit.  You want to take a shower and sleep?”

“God damn yes,” Bucky said.

“We’re going to need to head down to the armory and then debrief.  Steve said.  “You’ll be here won’t you?”

“Yes, Steve,” you teased, giving him a gentle push.  “Go.  Do what you need to do and I’ll make sure there’s dinner here for when you both get back.  I promise I’m not going anywhere.”

// NEXT

[a-day-in-the-afterlife]

The 14th Department (AFTERL!FE) Meets the Demon Brothers and Undateables (Obey Me!)

Lucifer

Noah heard he has a dog.  He is staying far away from the pretentious eldest. 

Oldest big brother?  You better believe Youssef finds a kindred spirit, even if they differ wildly in personalities.  

Louis lives for the almost regal aesthetic Lucifer has got going on.  Lucifer, in turn, lives for the day Louis will stop talking.

Quincy finds this whole trip preposterous (“What the heck is the Devildom?  What happened to the Underworld?”) and does not like Lucifer’s condescending attitude (it conflicts with his own!).  

Ethan doesn’t like Lucifer��proud and arrogant people with no reason to be so are not to be respected.  Lucifer despises Ethan for the same reason.

Day!  Will!  Not!  Go!  Near!  Lucifer!  He’s so scary!  But Cerberus is his best friend now (Nine-Nine who?).

Nine and Theo together find out that the eldest demon is into classical music and spend hours discussing early compositions with him.

Ell cannot be around this demon!  He is a fallen angel!  He tries to be nice (and because Ell is kind, so is Lucifer, even if the sickly sweetness of the angel drives him up the wall), but every good wish is punctuated with a sneeze.

Lucifer is so overworked, so by way of his calm disposition and love for meditation, Jamie helps him find ways to relax.

The eldest demon’s general demeanor astonishes June.  How manly he is!

Likewise, Sian can’t go near Lucifer without feeling nervous.  The man drips dominating energy!

Verine can’t understand the eldest’s love for classical music.  Rock is infinitely better.

Mammon

Um, Mori and him are best friends.  They together cause trouble in the House of Lamentation and in the 14th Department with their many get-rich-quick schemes.

Gaudy and expensive taste?  Sign Louis up.

Ethan says ‘no’ to the demon’s general pomposity (it reeks of low self-esteem) and by God, doesn’t he own anything that depicts an iota of class?

Mammon is one speedy demon—how can Kirr not appreciate his fleetfootedness when it would bring him so much use whilst hunting?  Apart from that, Kirr has no respect for that reprehensible thief, for the very idea of stealing brings back terrible memories.

Always belittled by their peers, Day and Mammon find a kindred spirit in each other, and Day is always reminded of his past life when he sees all the gold that Mammon professes to possess possesses. 

Kati bit him twelve times because no dumb tsundere was going to steal his (cough Aitachi’s) spot as cutest in the Department!

Licht is eclipsed by Mammon’s demon form because how is he able to pull off wearing so little clothing so well?  He must take notes.  When he learns that Mammon is a model, too, he goes berserk with delight.

Cyrille finds the secondborn exceedingly stupid, although he begrudgingly gives him credit for being pretty decent at math.

Sian spots a fellow tsundere and runs away, because oh my God, it’s so obvious that Mammon likes this MC person!

Leviathan

Games?  Social awkwardness?  Extreme interest in things that no one else seems to care for?  Cyrille has found his soulmate!

Aitachi and Kirr cringe at how Leviathan spends his leisure time, but are intrigued because they have never seen such methods of gaming and media consumption before.

Leviathan is forever at Quincy’s mercy, for the fellow demon has no qualms of absolutely crushing Levi’s already non-existent self-esteem. 

Even though he loathes to admit it, Sian really likes the rhythm games Leviathan plays, and the thousands of idol posters in his room make him strangely nostalgic of his past life.

June wonders how Levi can go so long without feeling the overwhelming need to burst into a sprint now and again.

Theo almost kills the thirdborn because how is his room filled with so many Demonrito and Hell Mountain Dew containers?  What filth!

Speaking of filth, Licht finds some of Levi’s dating sims and oh my darling, some of them are quite … lewd.

Ghilley and Leviathan together construct an elaborate Lego model of a castle from the anime My Sister Is A Fairy Princess, And Her Suitor Is Secretly An Ogre From a Land Far Away And Wants to Eat Us All, And It’s Up to Me to Save My Sister’s Kingdom.

Ethan can’t even walk past Leviathan’s room without a disapproving “tut.”  Has the demon no discipline, despite being rumored to be the Grand Admiral of Hell’s Navy?

Kati spends all day poking at the cute monster and waifu figurines situated in Levi’s bedroom.  He thinks Azuki-tan is cute, but not as cute as him, and anyone who says otherwise will get bitten!

Aitachi likes to rifle through Leviathan’s anime sword replica collection and giggle because in combat, they would be of no more use than a toothpick.

Satan 

Finally!  Someone with sense! thinks Ethan.  Boy, do these two get along, right down to their educated and proper mannerisms to their mutual hatred of Lucifer.

Verine can’t go near Satan without coughing violently because the forthborn always has some manner of cat hair on him, no matter how diligently he preens.

Cats are infinitely better than dogs, so Noah sticks close to Satan.

Cyrille thought he had found a friend in Satan, who always has his nose in a book, but it turns out, Satan is more philosophically-and-intellectually-versed, while Cyrille is more scientific.

Nine likes Satan, for he is as calm as himself.  Strangely enough, they both seem to have hidden wrathful feelings and bond over this.

Kitties! :D is all Day can think when he sees the fourthborn.

Youssef enjoys Satan’s company, too, for they both are anthropological in nature—always watching, but never interfering until there is a need.

Blond and princelike are the two of them, but Louis is sorely disappointed when Satan’s royal appearance is merely a façade of darker emotions to come, where Louis enjoys life in its every aspect.  “How disappointing art thou, Satan!”  Louis throws rose petals in distress.

Kirr and Aitachi try to hunt one of Satan’s cats, thinking it was some kind of Devildom’s finest prey.  Satan does not forgive them for the attempt.

Theo sneezes the moment he enters Satan’s room.  Although everything is in its place and not truly messy by any means, he refuses to let the stacks and stacks of books sit idly by when they are begging to be put in shelves!

Quincy and Satan each add to their respective repertoire of curses in their time together.  It does not bode well for anyone in the House of Lamentation or 14th Department.

Asmodeus

They are … essentially the same person, so you can bet your ass that Licht and Asmo absolutely live for each other’s company.  They literally spend hours modeling clothes together, discussing fashion, gossiping about their romantic exploits, and praising their overall appearance.  

Louis joins in too, although he mostly stays for the latter, and the three vanquish away many nights complimenting their own and the others’ looks.

Sometimes Asmo likes to sew patches and sequins onto his clothes and mend them to his own design, and Aitachi, who likes to sew, learns many different ways of stitching from the fifthborn, although he hates the fact that Asmo, like Licht, never shuts up about what an “adorable and cute warrior” he is!

Asmo has to know Kirr’s hair care routine, which Kirr gives in one, succinct sentence: “I wash it.  Sometimes.”

Nine has to constantly flee Asmodeus’ presence because it is in his nature to compliment the Soul Reaper on how absolutely beautiful he looks.

Kati expects makeovers, all of which should emphasize his cuteness, every other day.

Don’t ask how long Mori spent calculating how much money Asmo spends on beauty products, because he wept at the end of it.

Verine refuses to step a foot into Asmodeus’ room because do you know how much his sinuses are going to bother him when he spends even a second into a room so deeply entrenched in the fragrance of flowers and perfume?

Ghilley is used to a personality so akin to his roommate, Licht, so he has no qualms in dealing with Asmo and quite likes the gossip he is quietly able to distill from the fifthborn.

Beelzebub

Brothers in their flaming orange hair, June gloms onto Beel with astounding loyalty (Theo refuses to admit jealousy, but ...), especially when he hears of his dedication to his twin.

Cyrille has to interrogate Beel on the structural integrity of his wings in his demon form because there is no way that such a flimsy apparatus could lift a demon of Beel’s stature even an inch into the air!  Also, how much does Beel exercise if he expects to gain muscle and burn off the infinite calories that he consumes?  It is a scientific mystery.

Day likes snacks, Beel likes snacks!  Everything is right in the world (even if the demon accidentally mistook Day’s hair for a mint ice cream cone).

Jamie is constantly offering fresh fruits and vegetables to the sixthborn, but even though he eats them willingly, Beel much prefers foods that will actually fill him up for a short amount of time.

Again, Ethan is appalled by the lack of discipline Beelzebub shows.  The demon is simply a slave to his appetite and deserves nothing less than scorn.

Theo cannot decide if he likes or hates the fact that Beel leaves a trail of crumbs wherever he goes.  On one hand, he gets to clean, but on the other hand, it’s so messy ... 

Even though he has many misgivings of fallen angels, even Ell cannot help but like Beel!  As long as he is fed, the demon is very sweet and kind.  

Noah likes Beel, too.  Something about his easygoing and generally cheerful personality pleases him to no end. 

Beel tried to eat Kati’s hair, thinking it was a yummy bun.  Sadly, he got bit more times than Mammon.

Youssef is a good cook and is thereby followed by Beel wherever he goes.  The kind Soul Reaper doesn’t mind, though.

Belphegor

Noah likes how Belphie takes things easily and calmly, although it probably wouldn’t hurt for him to get more exercise.

Belphegor is even more of a conundrum to June than Leviathan was.  He decides that next time he goes to the Devildom, he’s going to bring an extra pair of running shoes because the demon most certainly was wanting of physical exertion! 

Kirr is absolutely astonished at the unguarded and completely lax way Belphie sprawls out in the House of Lamentation, sleeping.  If he was an enemy tribesman, he would have no trouble in taking the demon down as he slept.

“This kind of laziness is not fit for a warrior at all!” cries Aitachi any time he seems Belphie dozing off.

Jamie likes Belphegor’s way of thinking.  Sometimes, sitting under an apple tree in the sweltering summer heat after a hard day of work just causes one to be overcome with the desire to take a nap. 

Youssef tries to brew Belphie a cup of espresso, but the caffeine just doesn’t seem to have an effect on the Avatar of Sloth. 

Although he is slightly disheartened by the fact that his quiet footsteps seem to have no effect on the seventhborn, as he is always asleep, Ghilley revels in the prospect of drawing unsavory graffiti on the demon’s face when he slumbers.

Day sometimes tries to rouse Belphie, and Belphie, in turn, tries to kill Day.

Like his observations on his twin, Cyrille cannot fathom how the demon could sleep so much.  How could one body need so much rest?

Simeon

Ell loves him.  How can he not?  He is the perfect angel!  He is also very curious as to how the Celestial Realm of Obey Me!’s world works compared to the one in AFTERL!FE.

His whole aesthetic mesmerizes Louis.  There’s something so tranquil but regal about it.  

Licht wants to know where he can get an exact copy of Simeon’s outfit because darling, it's gorgeous.

Youssef probably spends more time around Simeon than he should, but his calm demeanor is so refreshing compared to the chaos in the 14th Department and the House of Lamentation. 

Kirr and Aitachi together lament with Simeon on the struggles of working with technology.  Why is it so difficult?

Something about the angel’s holy air makes Mori very much not inclined to ask him how much the gold clasp on his cape is worth.

Quincy hates the “pretentious” and “stuck up” angel and bickers with him almost as much as he bickers with Ell.  Simeon never responds to his goading, although ... he does get a bit prickly when Quincy criticizes Luke or the Celestial Realm too harshly.

Encouraged by the prospect that he can actually breathe in the (fresh-smelling) presence of Simeon, Verine enjoys his company, but is perpetually annoyed by the fact that the angel seems to pity him for his condition.

Ethan can’t hate Simeon, either.  He is the sole honorable character he can find in the entire Devildom, even though he has to admit that it seems that the angel is hiding something.

Day really likes Simeon!  He’s so nice and is always ready to play with him.

As a man of science, Cyrille scoffs at Simeon (and Luke’s) unfaltering belief in religion. 

Luke

Kati bites him on sight.  Luke just seems irritating and how dare he think himself cuter than him!

Aitachi sympathizes with Luke, for they both lament on not being taken seriously because of their age.  

Luke reminds him a bit too much of a chihuahua for Noah to be too fond of him, but the little angel means well, so Noah suffers his incessant barking out of (Kind)ness.

Day is a human puppy ... and Luke is an angel chihuahua.  They get along great, although Luke makes it his most important goal to Christianize Day, who seems to believe in other things!

Quincy wonders when Luke will stop talking and is constantly entertaining thoughts of hastening the day when he will.  Likewise, Luke wishes the “horrible demon” would go away forever.

As a fellow angel, Ell finds Luke to be great fun.  It’s strange though, Luke seems to always be expressing the opposite of what he’s feeling in typical tsundere fashion, but he never sneezes.

Sian finds Luke to be of the utmost annoyance.  He’s so short (heh) and yappy and annoying!  

Kirr wonders if the little angel will make a good hunting dog, but after he realizes that Luke has a lot of trouble keeping his mouth closed, he thinks  better of it.

His dealings with Day cause Nine to be an excellent caretaker of Luke when Simeon is away.  You just have to deal with exuberant personalities like his carefully, is all.

Ghilley and Licht give Luke “five stars” in terms of cuteness.  The young angel does not approve!

Theo stays far away from Luke.  Children are walking crumb-and-stain-factories and he is not going to get dirty.

Solomon

Quincy and Solomon exchange many spell incantations and curses and keep the rest of the Soul Reapers, angels, and demons in an uproar with their constant shenanigans. 

When he notices that Solomon has many fortune-telling artifacts in his room, Kati rifles through them all (without permission), much to the sorcerer’s amusement, especially when Kati discovers many supposedly unpleasant things about his future.

Although Quincy and Solomon are the true troublemaking duo in terms of pranks (Satan helps, sometimes), Day and Solomon are almost equal in measure, although much of Day’s rogurey is an accident, and he never means to cause any harm!

Licht is instantly enamored by Solomon’s cape—what style!  You can see the entire Milky Way embroidered on it (Cyrille instantly assures him that that is not actually the case)!

Ghilley can’t help but wonder why anyone thinks Solomon is shady.  He seems to be a pretty upstanding, if chaotic, guy?

Youssef admires the humanity of Solomon.  In a land of angels and demons and even Soul Reapers, it’s good to have someone so normal.

Unlike Ghilley, Ethan definitely notices that something shady is afoot when Solomon is around.  Because of this, he tails the sorcerer wherever he goes, for he’d rather not a ruckus be caused.

Sian has many questions for Solomon on the status of idols in the Human World since he left it.  What are the newest trends?  The most popular groups?  The most admired dance moves?  He wants to know it all.

Barbatos

Cyrille finds the whole time-travel aspect of Barbatos’ powers intriguing and derails the butler from his duties for hours in attempts to understand the nuances of this overpowering concept.

Ethan privately thinks that he looked much better in a butler suit than the demon.  What is even going on with the front of his outfit?  A diligent and uncomplaining demon is Barbatos, and Ethan has to respect him for that, even if he is a position so beneath his own.

He’s so scary! D: thinks Day, even though Barbatos is nothing but kind to him.

Kirr likes the fine fare that Barbatos cooks, although he laments not being able to win “the mind game” against the butler, who he spends many hours staring coolly at.

Theo and Barbatos spend many an evening chatting about the best way to maintain the most perfect state of cleanliness.

The strong smell of detergent follows Barbatos sometimes, and Verine can never bring himself too close to the demon.  However, he has to begrudgingly admit that if it weren’t for the overwhelming stench of chemicals, he would be breathing in a suffocating cloud of dust particles, so he has to thank the butler for that.

Jamie gives Barbatos many good recipes for fruit pies and Youssef can’t wait to try all the (possibly) delicious recipes that Barbatos recites to him.  

Ghilley, unfortunately, finds it very difficult to sneak up on the butler, for Barbatos has seen all Ghilley’s attempts to scare him in all the timelines he has observed. 

Diavolo

This bumbling idiot is the ruler of the Devildom? thinks Ethan with great distaste.  However dignified Diavolo might be, Ethan cannot see past the blindingly cheerful mask he puts on and finds it most undignified.

A fellow royal!  How is Louis supposed to resist striking a long-winded conversation?  Diavolo entertains Louis’ pompous and overbearing self and they find each other most delightful.

Licht positively drools over Diavolo’s demon form outfit.  Just how he is pulling off that much style?

Quincy finds much enjoyment in disrespecting the Prince of the Devildom to no end and is always disappointed when Diavolo responds to his insults with a tolerating smile.

The Prince of Demons and the son of the Demon Lord are titles that are essentially the bane of Ell’s existence, but he manages to be most respectful toward him, even though he is shaking in his shoes and wondering when all their interactions will come to and end.

Day lived like a king in his past life and is not even remotely fazed by the enormous amount of finery found in the Demon Lord’s Castle.  He is, however, enamored with the Little D’s, who, when not insulting him, are great fun!

Diavolo’s lifestyle of luxury is basically Mori’s dream, so he takes every opportunity to make notes of the expensive furniture and ancient pieces.

Noah and Youssef like how down-to-Earth Diavolo is, despite his high position.  They feel as if he has something to hide, but for the most part, he is a jolly fellow and they enjoy his company.

[of-elves-and-mad-hatters]

“The Azure Sky” - Chapter 4 - Lego Elves

Shadows to the Brightest Flame: Series

- The legacy of Lumia’s influence is scarred eternally into the lands of Elvendale. Burdened by a prophecy foretelling her demise and need for a successor, she watches for one capable of such power. Yet her enemies are working steadily to undo all she’s labored so long for, and it is millenia too late to make peace. 

Emily Jones, heir to Eimileen, is a bold girl dedicated to protecting Elvendale, but the world she has grown so fond of is not so black and white as it seems, and the titles of Guardian of Portal and Guardian of Light may hold darker legacies some ancient elves have worked tirelessly to hide. 

In conjunction with the extended version of the Guardian of Light prophecy I wrote previously

Basically a rewrite of all of the Lego Elves & Secrets of Elvendale storylines with an additional arc beyond the Season 4: Into the Shadows. There will be a varying degree of deviation from canon.

Technically a crossover with Lord of the Rings/Hobbit/Silmarillion in terms of worldbuidling, as I set Elvendale as being north of Middle-Earth, cause this is fanfic and I can. So there will be mentions of the Noldor, Sindar, Silvan, and some Tolkien characters, but they will be mostly background. Definitely not an issue if you aren’t familiar with the Middle-Earth fandom; everything will still be easy to understand. 

Book 1: The Azure Sky

Grieving over the unexpected death of her grandmother, Emily Jones is accidentally trapped in another world. Befriending a few young elves in an attempt to find her way home, Emily discovers many secrets about her grandmother’s past, but for every truth she learns two more questions take its place, leaving her vulnerable to darker force inhabiting this realm. 

A rewrite of Unite the Magic

____________________________________________

Chapter 1 

Chapter 2 

Chapter 3

____________________________________________

Chapter 4

Emily watches the golden light of early sunset reflects upon the surface of the ocean, changing shape and hue as the waves roll. The gentle rhythm is soothing, distancing her from the events of the past couple of weeks.

Peaceful, content.

She shifts her position on the wooden bench. She feels the edge of a splinter catch the hem of her shorts, sighs.

It’s all too real to be a dream.

The admittance is not as terrifying as it should be, being trapped in a strange world, but it certainly a beautiful one, vibrant, angelic. A part of her truly would rather stay here a thousand years than suffer another day on Earth, a voice that cares not whether they succeed in finding a way to return her home.

That wistful dream shatters when she thinks of her parents and her little sister, Sophie, wondering where she could be, having only gone to wander in her grandmother’s garden. They would never learn the truth, the mystery forever haunting them.

She leans her head over, watching the water, frowns. “Have we stopped?”

“No, Em,” Azari calls from above the cabin. “We’re just going so fast you can’t feel it.”

“Actually,” Naida corrects, “We’ve stopped. The wind’s died down.”

“Oh! I could build a windmill! Or some wings…” Aira bubbles.

“Someone’s desperate to build something,” smirks Azari.

Farran raises an eyebrow. “Aira, you control the wind.”

Aira pouts. “Fine.” She stands at the bow, raising her hands towards the sky. She starts to sing, or screach. The other elves clamps their hands over their ears as her voice raises in volume. A gale gathers above their heads and with the final note floods the sails. The boat begins to cut across the water.

Keeping her eyes on the map, Naida guides the water telekinetically. Azari makes her way down, sighing with boredom. “How much farther is it…” The boat stops.

Aira frowns. “That gale should have kept us going…”

“It’s alright,” Naida soothes. She strides over to let down the anchor. “We’re here.”

“But where is here, exactly? All I see is a bunch of ocean,” Azari questions, “No offense.”

“The map wouldn’t lead us astray.” As the water elf finishes, new runes appear on the righthand corner of the map.

“The deep shelters all things from curious eyes

Fates of those who should not have dared the sea

Graves graced with the memorials of strangers

Bones piled high and crowned with mermaid’s tears.” Naida reads aloud.

“Well that doesn’t sound foreboding,” Farran chuckles nervously.

The water elf ignores him and turns to the human girl. “Emily, what do you think of all of this?”

Emily shrugs, feeling once again as though she were being tested. “Well, I can barely believe I’m on a boat with elves and in a land with mermaids to begin with, but um, I remember my grandmother telling me that mermaid’s tears were pearls.”

Naida’s eyes shine with approval. “Well remembered.” She turns and bends down, lifting an ornamental rug to reveal a viewing port in the bottom of the boat. Through the glass a shipwreck can be seen. It is strangely arrayed, fully covered in coral and other sea plants, but the wood seems perfectly preserved, almost petrified. The reef extends up a rocky mound towering above the fragmented structure. Intermixed with the coral are hundreds of bones, separated and scattered but perfectly intact, even the skulls. Atop are nestled a group of large oysters, their shells muted in typically muddy greys and browns.

“So the key is inside an oyster?” Emily asks. “That’s kinda cool.”

Farran frowns. “Yeah, but how are we going to get it?”

“I can try,” Naida offers, but their is hesitancy in her voice.

“Wait, you’re going to try and walk down to the bottom of the ocean?” Azari looks incredulous. “Have you ever tried sustaining your magic that long?”

“I’ve come close,” Naida reassures, “And there aren’t a lot of other appealing options.”

“We could get help!” Azari argues.

“No, the fewer people who know what we’re doing, the better.”

“Why? Every elf in Elvendale would give their right hand to help the descendant of the fifth sister!”

“We still don’t know for certain that Emily is related to the fifth sister. The evidence favors that conclusion, but not to the satisfaction of every inhabitant of this continent. And even if we could prove it, the Sisters made enemies by making that portal. We could be endangering Emily’s life.”

“What enemies? Aside from some disgruntled elves on the southern border and a few skeptics, the portals weren’t really controversial.”

Naida frowns. “I don’t actually know,” she confesses, “Only that was what Nuala said, that they made enemies of those who were once their allies. She never explained more than that.”

“Well, I for one don’t think you should risk your life over shadows and boogeymen,” Azari responds. “Farran?” she asks, assuming his support.

“Actually,” Farran nervously runs his hand through his hair, “I agree with Naida. We shouldn’t get anyone else involved.”

The fire elf looks shocked. “Aira?”

Aira laughs nervously, “I don’t know? In the end shouldn’t it be Naida’s choice what risk she takes?”

Azari’s face hardens to one of disbelief. Ever the rebel of the group, she never imagined a day would come when her friends approved of something she considered too dangerous. “I guess I’m outvoted then,” she mutters.

Feeling guilty, Emily opens her mouth to speak on Azari’s behalf, but Naida has already begun forming a tunnel in the water and stepped off the side of the boat. They hold their breath as she wanders down, the tunnel growing until in envelopes the tip of the coral mound covered in oysters. The largest of the group opens its lid, revealing a bed with two shiny white pearls and a blue metallic key. 

Naida grasps the key, flinching as the oyster clamps its shell suddenly closed. Face beginning to strain with effort of maintaining the magic, the water elf hurries back to the surface. She nearly collapses onto the deck, but brushes off the other elves’ help. “I’m fine, just a little tired.”

“That was incredible,” Emily exclaims. Aira and Farran resound the praise. 

Azari crosses her arms, but her frown cracks into a smile. “That was kinda awesome.” Naida returns the compliment with a hug, which the other elves quickly join. Emily stands awkwardly off to the side. 

“So,” Azari’s voice travels from inside the group, “When are we gonna eat? I’m starving.”

[imaginesmai]

Tom Holland - True love kiss

This is long, this is perfect and I’m dying of fluff right here. Am I using my denial of Endgame in this fic? Yes. Tony, Peter and Morgan as a family was what we deserved. Enjoy!

Plot: “I tricked your little sister telling her Ursula has stolen my voice because I have a massive hangover, and now we have to kiss in order not to break her innocence”

or

Au were Tom works in Disney store, has a massive headache and can’t talk, and now he has lied to a little girl and she wants to get him a ‘true love kiss’; which happens to you, her older sister and Tom’s highschool crush.

“Dude, you look like shit”

Tom raised his head from where it was resting against the counter and gave Harrison the biggest glare of death that he could muster in his condition. The boy just returned a cheeky grin.

“Rough night?”

His head was pounding, his throat was dry, and more than anything at that point, Tom wished that the ground would just open up and swallow him whole, and put him out of his misery. When he had woken up that Sunday morning to his alarm blaring, his first instinct had been to call in sick. But after a few minutes of lazing around buried in blankets, his sense of guilt had kicked in, and with a groan, Tom had dutifully risen from his comfortable position and went in for his shift at the Disney Store.

There were some days when he cursed the fact that he had taken up the offer; so far away from his home, with shift too early in the morning. Normally, he swallowed the whines and put on a fake smile for the excited kids that ran around as soon as it opened. As soon as he closed his eyes again, Tom knew it was one of those days, where he would have to search deep inside the excitement to not to frown to those kids.

Last night, he had had the perfect idea to go to a party. His brother had begged him to go, and since the fucker didn’t have to work next morning, he kept Tom awake until the sun rose. He drank, he had fun and maybe flirted with a blonde – although he wasn’t sure. Then, he threw up in the toilet, drowned in headaches and swallowed the pills for the hangover.

And the worst part of it, was that last night activities involved yelling and laughing, and it had resulted in the morning’s hardship; his voice was practically gone, and all that was left was a pretty sore throat.

Tom let his head flop back against the counter, but raised his hand in a rude gesture for Harrison’s remark.

“Boy, are you grouchy when you’re hungover” he teased. Harrison stood, stretching his arms as prepared to leave, probably heading to his own job at the Nike store on the other side of the mall. “See you later, Tom”

Tom just made some recognition noise from the back of his throat.

The store was fairly quiet for a Sunday, something Tom was thankful for. There were a few kids roaming around, but a quick glance told Tom that his co-worker could more than handle it. Sometimes a break from dealing with customers was nice too. He spent the next couple of hours working at a relaxed pace, stocking shelves and making sure the displays were all neat and tidy.

“Hi, mister!”

At the sound of the sweet voice, Tom looked down to see a young girl standing next to him, giving him a wide toothless smile, and looking as cute as can be. Her hair was tied up in two braids, and she was dressed in a sparkly blue Elsa princess dress; if he had to say, she wasn’t older than four.

Tom smiled warmly at her and waved hello. He then lifted his eyes from the little girl and glanced around, frowning slightly when he noticed she was alone.

“Mommy and daddy are next door buying some diapers for our new baby brother, with my big big sister” she explained when she saw Tom’s questioning gaze. “They said we could wait here until they are finished. My big brother is over there looking at the Star Wars toys”

Tom looked over to where the girl was pointing, and sure enough there was a boy about sever, busy looking excited over the new Star Wars Millennium Falcon Lego set.

“Mommy said I can pick a toy for the new baby” the girl continued. “Can you help me get that Olaf? It’s too high and I can’t reach it”

Tom smiled and grabbed the plushie toy that the little girl was pointing at. His muscles screamed at him when he stretched his arm, but he didn’t mind; from the corner of his eye, he could see the little girl bouncing up and down. The smile on her face became even wider once he passed it to her, and she hugged the snowman to her chest. Tom chuckled soundlessly, and brought a hand to his throat. Maybe it was time for another glass of warm milk. Sure on the café down wouldn’t care.

“Thanks, mister!”

Swallowing down the hurt from being called mister for the second time one a day, Tom grinned and gave her a thumbs up. The girl’s expressions suddenly became concerned and she looked at him inquisitively. She tilted her hear slightly and a little furrow between her eyebrows formed as she stared at him intensely.

“Can’t you talk?”

Tom’s lips twitched and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing out loud. He couldn’t tell to a little girl that he couldn’t talk because he had screamed every bit of the songs of last night, and that, combined with cheap vodka, wasn’t a good choice. Instead, he shrugged his shoulders and pointed to his throat, shaking his head. The girl’s eyes widened.

“But why can’t you talk?”

Probably, if her parents would have been around she would have been scolded for asking such a question. But they weren’t, and Tom thought there wasn’t anything wrong with enjoying the attention that kid was willing to give him

Quickly, he took his notepad that was sitting by the cash register and wrote something down. He held it out to the little girl. She glanced at it, frowning cutely when she couldn’t make out any of the words he had written. Like if they were in a TV show, the girl closed her eyes tightly and yelled out for his brother. Tom almost jumped on his place from the strength and volume of that little girl voice.

A boy with short brown hair and a pout made its way where Tom was.

“What’s wrong, Morgan?”

“Peter!” the girl turned around, shoving the paper to his brother’s hands. “He can’t talk! Something is wrong! Can you read what he wrote?”

“My name is Tom” the boy read it out loud, giving Tom a weird glance. He looked then to his sister, who was looking at him as if he was reading the secret to immortality. “I can’t speak because – uh, because Ursula the sea, witch? Stole my voice, but I’m happy to assist you”

Morgan let out a gasp and, if possible, her eyes widened even more. She clutched Olaf even tighter to her chest, looking devastated at Tom’s predicament. Peter, on the other hand, didn’t look quite as convinced, looking at Tom doubtfully. Still, he didn’t say anything.

“I know how we can get your voice back!” Morgan tugged on Tom’s hand, and smiled brightly at him. “We need – We need to find your true love! You need true love’s kiss!”

“I don’t think that would work, Morgan” Peter announced. He didn’t sound too convinced, but Tom could see that his little mind was trying to work around the lie yet. “How do we even know Ursula is real? We’ve never seen her”

“Of course it would work. It worked with Ariel!” Morgan began pulling Tom around, giving a hard glare to his brother. “Ursula is very tricky. She could be hiding in plain sight and you would never know! Do you have a true love, Tom?”

Honestly, the boy was having more fun than at the party last night. Tom shook his head and allowed the girl to begin dragging him around the store, stopping after taking just a few steps. He watched as Morgan surveyed their surrounded, Peter watching too even if he tried to hide it. There weren’t much people on the store, just two couples and their children.

“We are going to find your true love. Everyone has one!” Morgan seemed convinced; and his brother didn’t seem to need much more, since he had a excited smile too.

“Maybe we can go to the food court!” Peter chimed in, now completely caught up in the situation. “There’s always lots of people there!”

The idea of the two children leaving the store with him made him pale. As harmless as he thought his little joke was in the beginning, he clearly hadn’t thought things through. If he was seen with two kids on the mall, if the parents saw him with their kids, he could be in so much trouble he didn’t want to think off. Even if the kids hand bright expressions on their faced, Tom thought it wouldn’t hurt to force his voice one more time to avoid being fired.

Before he could cough out the rawness of his throat, another voice appeared.

“Morgan! Peter! Time to leave!” a man’s voice echoed through the shop, and Tom let out a relieved breath. Both kids looked extremely disappointed as their father appeared and beckoned them towards him. “We’re gonna grab some lunch – your mother is already waiting for us at the food court with Y/N”

The siblings looked at each other with glee, and Morgan let go of Tom’s hand to run to his father.

“Daddy! Daddy, Tom has to come with us! We need to find his true love!”

The man, who had dark sunglasses on and the same brown eyes than his kids, gave Tom a confused look. And Tom understood; kids brought home stray cats or dogs, not full grown men to look for their love. However, the man didn’t seem to react in a scandalous way, just tightened his tie and let his son speak.

“Ursula stole his voice” Peter added. “We have to help him get it back!”

“Please, daddy! Can he come? Can he come?” Morgan jumped up and down, begging. Cooper walked forwards too, and started to fill the man’s cheeks, covered by a black goatee with kisses.

“Morg, honey” the man began slowly, pushing his kids away. “Uh, this boy had to work, he can’t just up and leave. He has responsibilities here. What do we day about responsible, Pete?”

“That it’s important” Peter answered, pouting.

The man gave a whole speech that had Tom with wide eyes; even if he wasn’t specially tall, or strong, he held a determination in his voice that he hadn’t heard in anyone. After promising that Tom would be okay without a voice for another week, since they would come back just for him, the kids left with their father. Both of them gave Tom a big hug and promised a thousand times that they would come back.

That kind of innocence was pure, and if a five minute interaction could help them to keep that innocence even longer; well, Tom was willing to promise them back that he could wait.

After all, what could it hurt?

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

Ninety minutes later, Tom was feeling a lot better. His headache was gone – courtesy of Harrison, who had taken pity of him and given him some Advil and a nice, streaming mug of tea, which helped to sooth his throat. His voice was even starting to come back, albeit it was accompanied with a slight rasp. All in all, he felt like a normal functioning human being.

The store had slowed down in activity even more; the bright and sunny day was then dark and with ominous rain clouds rolling in. Tom was almost sure that it wouldn’t hurt anyone to go home before he had to shower in cold water when it started to rain.

Pounding footsteps were suddenly heard echoing from the hallway, and Tom looked up just in time to see Peter appearing at the front entrance. Peter spotted him and squealed with excitement, whipping around to wave.

“He’s still here, Morgan! I see him!”

“Hurry up, Y/N!”

At the sound of Morgan’s voice, Tom rounded the corner of the cashier desk and frowned. Behind him, he could hear Harrison, who was lazily hanging around, begin to snicker as he watched. He already knew what had happened with the kids, and after a whole lot of teasing, Tom had regretted telling him.

Just then, Morgan appeared in his line of vision, pulling a young woman behind her by the hand. You just looked confused as you struggled with your shopping bags and the purse, all while trying to keep Morgan from running off without you. The second the little ball of energy saw Tom, she let go of your hand and went running up to him. Blinking the upcoming embarrassment, Tom bent down to one knee so that he could be at eye level with Morgan.

“Hi Tom!” Morgan greeted enthusiastically. “We thought – we thought that if you couldn’t go and find your true love we could bring her to you! This is my sister, Y/N, and she can be your true love!”

As you stepped closer to him, Tom looked up – and felt his mouth go dry. His stomach fluttered when he recognized you. You had never talked in person, but it was hard not to notice when Y/N Stark walked into the room. You had shared a couple of classes together back in highschool, and Tom sat directly behind you in your biology class. He wasn’t that much of a genius, but thanks to you he passed all the classes; and it was really a miracle, because young Tom spent all his time staring at you.

He could almost remember the stuttering when you talked, the burning heat on his cheeks and how sad he was when he learned that you had moved away. Now that he thought about that, he had already met Peter as a baby, and your father a couple of times. How could he forget his forever crush?

“Didn’t you guys want to go to the arcade?” you asked, your voice sweet and gentle as he remembered. “It’s on the other side of the mall”

“Y/N” Peter talked “We have to ask you something really important”

Panic filled Tom. He desperately wracked his brain, trying to come up with a way to stop the kids before they could embarrass him to the next decade.

“Can you be Tom’s true love?” Morgan and Peter asked at the same time, slightly unrhythmical.

For the second time that day, Tom wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole, never to be seen again. His cheeks turned red and his ears pink, and he wanted to bash his head against the counter.

“W-what?” you asked. Your gaze landed on him and he could see the recognition flashing through your eyes. The smile that appeared on your face made the whole situation more embarrassment. “Tom! It had been ages since I saw you!”

Tom nodded dumbly.

“Y/N!” Morgan stamped her foot impatiently and your attention landed on your little sister once more. “This is really important!”

“Ursula might come back, Y/N!” Peter backed up. Tom wasn’t sure who was more invested in the story, if the big brother or the little sister. “Can you be his true love or not? He doesn’t have all day!”

“Who the f -uh, who is Ursula?” you gave a confused glance to Tom, who was still kneeling on the ground frozen because I could fucking faint.

“The evil sea witch” Morgan rolled her eyes, slumping her shoulders as if you were the most annoying thing in her short life. She showed you the pad of paper with Tom’s note written on it. “Remember, Y/N? She stole Ariel’s voice. And now she took Tom’s voice, and the only way to get it back is if he finds his true love!”

Tom could hear Harrison laughing his ass off on the background. His friend for sure knew who you were, as Tom couldn’t stop talking about you even years after you left, so the situation was hilarious for the blonde. Meanwhile, Tom was feeling everything moving in a slow motion, the headache back and his palms sweaty. He had the prettiest girl he could think of in front of him, with a note that confirmed his implication on the true love thing. If you slapped him and called him a creep, he wouldn’t blame you.

But the smile didn’t fell from your lips, it just transformed into a little laugh. You tried to cover it up with a cough and brought your hand to your mouth. Tom could see the happy shine in your eyes, the same he had enjoyed when he was in highschool and made you laugh. Even if it wasn’t going as bad as it could, Tom was sure he wouldn’t be calling you to meet up, as much as it hurt him; more like changing cities and avoiding you like the plague. Forger ever mucking up the courage to ask you on a date.

“Yeah, I can” your voice pulled him from his thoughts, and he started at you in disbelief as you smirked down at him. Your hair was shorter, your features more mature and you were a bit taller; but he felt like he was all over that nervous boy that followed you through the corridors in hopes of you noticing him.

“Really?!” Morgan squealed, her wide toothless smile lit up her entire face.

“Only because you ask me and because you’re gonna eat all your veggies tonight” you tapped both of your siblings’ noses and laughed when a defeated sigh left their mouth. Then, you looked down at Tom and raised a brow. “Tom is going to have to stand up, though”

There was no way you could be serous about that. There was no way his crush from highschool, who he hadn’t seen in years, was asking him to stand up to kiss him. Not Harrison, who had stopped laughing behind Tom and was looking at the scene with wide eyes. Not your siblings, who were waiting for him to move. No, you were talking to Tom and Tom was having a heart attack.

“Tom, come on!” Peter urged him, tugging on his sleeve. For such a small boy, your brother was strong.

The whole thing was more than a little weird, but Tom wasn’t that stupid to deny the opportunity that it presented. And if there was one thing that could be said about Tom, was that he was fucking in love with you he never backed down. Even if it was going to blow up in his face.

Up close, he was able to notice the little details that he otherwise would have missed. You smelled so good that he had to stop himself from sniffling. Your eyes were brighter, and your hair was the same colour he remembered. He looked to the small mole that he had found years ago, and it was in the same place; so were the wrinkles around your eyes and the dimple on your cheek. You tucked your hair behind your ear, and Tom could see himself studying the last history test on his bed, his mother knocking on the door to see if everything was alright and hearing her giggling when Tom stuttered.

“You really have to make it a special kiss” Morgan instructed, dead serious. “Like the kind of kisses that daddy gives mommy sometimes. A real true love’s kiss!”

“Alright” you nodded, stepping closer.

Gently, you grasped the lapels of his store vest and pulled him even closer, so that your bodies touched each other. Tom leaned in automatically, his head dropping and your lips slanting together. It wasn’t as hard as he thought, as his arms wrapped around your waist and you kissed him once, twice, three times. It wasn’t the first time he had been kissed, but without a doubt, it was easily the best kiss of his life.

Your body felt warm against him, or maybe it was the nerves, and he realized that you fitted perfectly together. Your noses didn’t touch, your hand seemed to belong to the back of his neck and even the heights were perfect for each other. Tom was about to melt in the ground, when you teared apart.

He seemed them to see the two kids looking at you with wide eyes and mouth open, Harrison on his side vision with the phone on his ear and whispering-talking excitedly. You blushing and tucking your hands in the pockets of your jacket, looking down.

“Now try talking, Tom!” Morgan said, her voice sounding impossibly loud in the empty store. Tom had never been so thankful that there were no customers around.

“Uh” Tom ran a hand through his head, floundering for words.

Tom let his eyes go back to you, and your gazes met. He tuned out the kids urging him to talk, and cherished how you didn’t look ready to run off and call the police on him. It wasn’t probably the best way to ask, since you hadn’t seen each other for years and you had kissed because of a shitty tale told to a little girl as an excuse for his hangover.

But, what else could he lose? After all, in fairy tales everyone had a happy ending; and he couldn’t let the two main characters hanging.

“What about a date?”

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[hopelikethemoon]

Falling Apart (Javier x Reader) {MTMF}

Title: Falling Apart Rating: PG Length: 1600 Warnings: Angst (allusions to post-partum depression) Notes: You can find everything about Maybe Today, Maybe Forever here. Set in July 1997. Javier’s POV.  Summary: Javier grapples with the aftermath. 

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“Coffee?” Javier questioned as he rose from the kitchen table with his own coffee cup. His brows knit together as she lifted her gaze to stare back at him with visible indifference written on her face. 

“Sure.” She pushed the coffee mug to the edge, before picking up the newspaper that had been sitting idle on the table and flipping through it.

He hesitated, words forming at his lips, but he didn’t have the balls to actually speak them. Instead, he snatched up the mug and headed for the coffee pot. 

It felt like he was living with a stranger. 

The woman sitting at his kitchen table looked like the woman he loved, but everything about her felt wrong. Sometimes he still saw her — that glimmer of mischief that was followed by cold feet finding his leg beneath the covers; that raw sense of humor that meshed with his and drove their friends crazy. 

But most days it felt like she’d been replaced with a pod person who wanted nothing to do with him. She was stand-offish at best and entirely disinterested at the worst. 

Maybe he had understood her correctly. Maybe she truly was done with him. 

Javier was well aware of the fact that he’d been overbearing during those last few months of her pregnancy, but he hadn’t anticipated that his worry would turn into this festering wound that wouldn’t heal. 

“I was thinking about taking Josie to the park,” He started gently as he sat the coffee cup down on the table in front of her. 

“Newborns aren’t exactly park-friendly.” She retorted, folding the newspaper in half and sitting it aside as she reached for her mug. “I’ll just stay home.”

Javier took a sip of coffee as he sat down across from her, “I don’t mind handling Sofía—“

“You don’t mind handling her?” She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “I’m perfectly capable of watching her at home. Alone.”

He swallowed thickly, nodding his head as he glanced down at his half eaten breakfast. His stomach turned in response to the coarse tone she’d taken with him. “Right.”

Where had he gone wrong? Was it the guilt he felt that had done this relationship in? Wasn’t that what precipitated her confession that she didn’t want to do this. 

Whatever it meant. 

No, he knew what she meant. 

And fuck if it wasn’t tearing him up inside. 

The idea of having to rebuild his life without her scared the shit out of him. It had been bad enough when there had been a few hours where he thought he’d have to plan her funeral — but somehow the idea of existing in the same world with and without her didn’t seem right. 

Javier rubbed at his jaw as he stared down at his coffee cup, brows drawn together as he considered how to navigate this perilous situation he found himself in. “I would really like for you to come with us. And I’m sure Josie would like to have the two of you there.”

She chewed on her bottom lip as she glanced at him briefly, “Alright.” She offered a shrug, before rising to her feet. “I’m going to take a shower, then.”

She hadn’t even touched her coffee. 

He sighed heavily as he watched her walk out of the kitchen. His gaze lingered on the empty space she had occupied, before he leaned forward on his elbows and raked his fingers through his hair. 

Javier pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek as he stood up to clean the table off. 

He’d already called his father to try to talk through the situation — to try to figure out why this was happening. But even that hadn’t helped. It was like she was drifting away at sea and he was completely helpless and drowning too. 

Steve and Connie had come to visit a few days ago and she’d seemed almost normal. But he wondered how much of that was just for show — she was good at putting up these false walls of emotion, to mask how she really felt. 

It pissed him off that he had gone through four years of psychology classes two decades ago and it did fuck all now when it really counted. 

And she was too damn good at performing in front of friends and family, Javier doubted Steve would believe him if he brought up the way she’d been acting around him. 

“Josie,” Javier started as he walked down the hallway to her bedroom, pushing the door open. “Can you get ready to go to the park?”

“But I already am dressed, daddy!” She said as she looked up from the Hot Wheels track she was building. 

“You can’t wear pajamas to the park,” Javier chuckled as he watched her adjust the tiara she had on. “Do you need help?”

Josie pursed her lips thoughtfully before nodding her head, “I want to look like a princess, like mommy.”

Javier smiled a little, “Your mommy is a princess, isn't she princesa?” He said as he pulled open the dresser drawers to find her something to wear. She had a plethora of dresses with like shorts sewn into the skirts — which were perfect for the park. 

What would life look like if all of this fell apart? Would he get the girls part of the time? He hadn’t had to have these thoughts since Colombia — back when everything hung in the balance. 

His father had talked him off that ledge, the last time they’d talked. Chucho was convinced that they were both stressed after everything that happened. He’d been there too, after all. He’d seen it firsthand. 

But the thought of packing his life back into a joyless apartment was a sobering thought to consider. 

“Hey babe,” She popped her head into Josie’s bedroom, fresh out of the shower and toweling off her wet hair, “Did you use the sunblock last? I can’t find it.” 

Javier perched on the edge of Josie’s bed, “Should be in the kitchen in the junk drawer.” 

“Perfect.” She smiled, like nothing was wrong and it felt like a genuine display of emotion. “Next time we go to the store, remind me that I’m out of my apricot scrub.”

“Alright,” Javier nodded, turning his attention back to Josie who was wrestling her way out of her pajama top. “I’ll put it on the list.”

“Josie, are you wearing a crown?”

Josie turned towards her mother, beaming from ear-to-ear, “I wanted to be a princess racecar dry-beaver.”

“You wanted to be a beaver?” She snorted. “Are you trying to say ‘driver,’ babydoll?”

Josie nodded her head, “A race dri-ber.”

“Close enough,” She grinned, looking towards Javier then. “How about ice cream after the park?”

“Ice cream?” Josie gasped dramatically. 

“I can’t say no, now.” He smirked, his heart beating a little faster. “Whatever you want, baby.” Whatever it would take to make her feel normal again — Javier was willing to try it. He’d walk on Legos barefoot if it meant normalcy could return to their lives. 

Sofía started crying in her nursery and her mother’s face fell. 

“Do you want me to get her so you can get ready?” Javier offered cautiously. 

“No.” She blinked slowly as she looked down the hall, “I’ve got her. Just get Josie ready.” 

“Come on, JoJo. Let’s get you dressed.” Javier clicked his tongue against his teeth and held out her dress for her. 

He knew he had to be patient — she’d gone through hell too. Physically and mentally. They had both built up so many expectations for Sofia’s birth and in the end it had been a nightmare. 

Javier hated to even think about what life might’ve been like if they hadn’t kept trying. If they’d given up… but how could he think that way? Sofía was the grumpiest little angel — she was perfect. And if they hadn’t had her, they wouldn’t have Monica in their lives. 

Or Stevie. 

Or even the house they lived in. 

Even with the current situation, he wouldn’t give up the best parts of his life just because they had hit a rocky patch. A really rocky patch. 

And then there was the added pressure of knowing what she’d gone through in her own childhood. The pain, the trauma, the instinctual reactions that came with her upbringing. It was why she soldiered through everything without speaking up — she’d rather suffer in silence than feel like a burden. 

Was she suffering now and he was just blind to it? Outside of how it inconvenienced his life.  

“Daddy, why are you sad?” Josie questioned, standing in front of him pouting. “You’ve gots to smile.” She wagged a finger at him, before poking him between the eyes. “You’ve got them wormy lines!”

Javier couldn’t help but laugh, scooping Josie up and tickling her until she squealed for him to stop, her laughter an infectious sound that warmed his heart. 

This was his family and he wasn’t going to lose his partner. He’d weather whatever storm he had to weather, if it meant coming out the other side. The good already outweighed the bad, he just couldn’t let him get caught up in his own melancholy. 

His own guilt. 

That guilt still ate him alive at night. 

She’d wanted to have a second child to give him the experience he’d missed out on. Now he wished he’d missed out on this experience. 

He had wanted to experience the joy of fatherhood firsthand, but instead he got to suffer the nightly fears that the love of his life was slipping through his fingers. 

And maybe he should bring it up with her. Talk about it. But what if she confirmed his worst fears? What if she truly did want out? He was a fucking selfish man still, and he wanted to hold onto this until it was pried out of his hands. 

He wanted to roll over at night and reach out for her and not fear that he’d feel her flinch away from him. He wanted to walk into the nursery while she was feeding Sofía and not fear that she’d bite his head off about hovering. He wanted all the things he had been blessed with when Josie was a baby and he’d taken for granted. 

Javier had realized the merit in the saying — you never realize how good you have it, until it’s gone. And she already felt one foot out the door of their relationship. 

[merskrat]

Do you think everyone has some level of internalized misogyny? Like when I was a kid I genuinely never even conceived the thought that boys might be better. I wasn’t treated differently than a boy by my family I don’t think, except I did like dolls so that’s what they got me, but they didn’t assume what toys I would like before I made my preferences known and I had lincoln logs and legos and stuff too. I CERTAINLY didn’t think boys in school were smarter than girls—I looked at the children around me and saw girls that got better grades, who were more athletic, who were more artistically talented than the boys. I mean I do shave and wear mascara and maybe my desire to be beautiful or to put any stock at all in being feminine is internally misogynistic? I know that I was socialized to want to shave my legs for instance (being ten and being told you have hairy legs every time you wear shorts will do that to you, and that’s the age I was when I started hair removal) , and I like my legs to be smooth, but where does socialization end and my preference for smooth legs begin? Is that internalized misogyny? I’ve put up with absolutely terrible shit from men but idk if that’s because I had low self esteem or because of internalized misogyny, or both. Idk radical feminism saved my life and ended a years long depressive slump partly because of the wonderful women I’ve formed friendships with online and irl, but also because it gave form to the things about this world and the people in it and liberal feminism that bothered me. At the same time it’s extremely upsetting to realize that you all of a sudden don’t know if any choice you’ve ever made has been made freely. And liberal feminists generally realize that this is the case for capitalism but not for patriarchy, and claim that any choice that any woman makes is empowering if it makes her feel confident or makes her money, and that any critique of these ideas is a direct attack against individual women and robs women of their “agency” or “bodily autonomy.” They don’t even believe in women as a global class. They don’t even believe that it is sex that oppresses women rather than femininity, and seem to be too blind to realize that if women could identify out of their oppression, we would have done so by now and the patriarchy (and probably capitalism) would not exist.