#I will miss you my dear peanut | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

verlovestaylor13 · 2 years ago

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Dear Reader...

Hi @taylorswift and @taylornation. The twins are back to give you The Story of Us ... updated 2023 edition❤️✨

What a journey these 16 years have been with you. You don’t know me, but hi my name’s Veronica! I’m 28 (turning 29 on 8/11!) and my IDENTICAL twin Victoria (@viclovestaylor13) and I have loved you for years. Your music has quite literally been the soundtrack of our lives.

Vic and I haven’t had the easiest past, to sum it up. We wouldn’t be the people we are today If it wasn’t for your love, strength, music and radiating happiness. Although you don’t know it, we’ve grown up together and experienced impressive milestones with you being a constant along the way. I’m not good at this whole tumblr thing, let alone getting you to see my post amidst the millions I’m sure you’re exposed to. But hey, we can’t ever give up hope! So that’s what I’m doing, here’s to never giving up. And here’s to always hoping that my twin sister and I will one day have the chance to tell you EVERYTHING and most importantly, thank you for everything that you’ve truly done for us. Fun fact is that we’re from Rhode Island so all of our experiences at your tours have been at our favorite place….GILLETTE STADIUM!!!

✨✨Okay lets start from the first tour we were able to attend! As you scroll down you’ll see us through the years until we reach 2023 at the bottom ❤️

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🌈🌈🌈☂️Speak Now Tour 6/26/11 ✨

This was the first time we saw you!! Trust me when I say we wanted to see you MANY times before this but we were young and had no $$$. This show was a combination birthday and Christmas present.

Seeing you live for the first time changed us, to say it was magical is a complete understatement.

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🌹Red Tour 7/26/13 & 7/27/13 ✨

These shows were OF COURSE at Gillette Stadium! Vic and I saved up our money so that we could be at BOTH nights!! After the speak now tour we knew we never wanted to miss a single night. We picked up extra shifts at work and didn’t splurge on anything so that we could be there, buy merch and have the time of our lives. It was incredible and yes it did rain. We happily danced in ponchos.

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🎀1989 World Tour 7/24/15 & 7/25/15✨

Of course my sister Vic and I once again picked up extra shifts at work, ate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and saved our money to be at both nights! I can still picture those nights as if it was yesterday…it’s crazy how much fun we had. This was during a tough year and having your shows to look forward to really helped us more than you could ever know.

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🐍REPUTATION TOUR 7/26/18, 7/27/18 & 7/28/18✨

As it has been with all your prior tours, my sister Vic and I saved up our money and gave up on certain things to afford to be there for ALL THREE (3) NIGHTS!! This time we were able to save enough money to afford our outfits! We dressed up and made friends with Gillette staff because of it!!! See the pics below 😇 The rep tour forever lives in our hearts and we’re constantly watching videos and crying lol.

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Lover Fest 🌈🌻💐🌸

Vic and I spent over TWELVE (12!!) hours to get tickets for lover fest east! Luckily between using our phones at work and carrying portable chargers, we secured dates to BOTH of the shows at gillette!

...March 2020

We know what this month and honestly the whole year brought into the world. Vic and I started as REGISTERED NURSES on March 2, 2020...and the federal shutdown in the United States quickly followed suit. Here we were, 2 brand new nurses working amidst a pandemic with no vaccine at the time and people passing away at an astronomical rate. Significant sacrifices were made this year and with that we know that Lover Fest was canceled. Being FRONTLINE WORKERS, Vic and I thought it was the best decision to cancel lover fest given the critical nature of the world. We were of course extremely sad, but it was the best for everyones safety. You continued to be our guidance while the nature of hospital systems turned into crisis scenarios. There were countless nights of physical as well as emotional breakdowns as we tried to navigate this unfamiliar world of nursing during a global pandemic. It was a long few months that turned into years - and now writing this in 2023 the pandemic is not over, but there is a newfound hope. We even wore the “I’m Feeling 2022″ headband to work our NYE night shift in 2021! That was until it had to be removed to go into covid isolation rooms, but it was still present! I attached the picture below.

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Fast forward to us now... and somehow it’s 2023?!

We have come out stronger than ever and now we are ready for The Eras Tour in our home aka Gillette Stadium!!! Like the tours in the past, we knew we had to be at ALL THREE (3) NIGHTS! We saved up and through all the rough shifts in the hospital, we knew a tour would be in the horizon as a reward. We couldn’t be more excited to be happy, free, confused and NOT lonely with the best people...Taylor Swift fans.

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❤️ The Eras Tour 5/19/23, 5/20/23, 5/21/23 ✨

Let’s do this!!!!!

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Here’s where you can find us having the best days💃🏻

🪩FRIDAY MAY 19: Section A5, row 1, seats 11&12

🌟 SATURDAY MAY 20: Section A9, row 3, seats 3&4

💎SUNDAY MAY 21: Section A12, row 19, seats 7&8

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And then later in 2023...

Vic is getting MARRIED👰❤️ this October!!! I’m hosting her Bridal Shower on July 9th 2023 (I think we all know the significance of that date!) I’m also throwing her a LOVER THEMED BACHELORETTE in August! There will be references to the other eras as well just for fun! Then of course we have lyrics from your songs referenced EVERYWHERE for Vic’s wedding. Beautiful and meaningful lyrics selected to help tell Vic’s love story with Brandon. See the pictures I attached below!

Also, let us know if you guys @taylornation @taylorswift want to come because “...at every table, I’ll save you a seat” 🦋

There’s a standing invite to any and all festivities, always❤️

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It has always been and will always be you, @taylorswift. Thank you for every. single. thing. We owe a lot of our success to you and one day we hope to tell you all about it✨❤️

Until then, thank you for being you and being a constant all these years. Your Rhode Island twin nurses love you more than can ever be explained. Eternally grateful.

Long live🦋❤️🐱

- Veronica (Twitter: @va13x) & Victoria (Twitter: @viclynn24)

@taylorswift @taylornation

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deadghosy · 4 months ago

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𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚

𝐎𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐮!𝐬𝐥𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 + 𝐏𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐲 𝐰/ 𝐒𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧 & 𝐎𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬 𝐏𝐭.𝟑

[part 1] [part 2]

It’s shown a sunny day, birds are chirping, Tom sipping his daily coffee before hell breaks out. Apparently for this episode, the team will have two new recruits apparently. Y/N slides into the scene wrapping her arm around the tall riddle.

“Heyyy boss….” Y/N says with her usual smile. Tom shrugs off her arm and glances at her with slight irritation. “What do you want now Miss L/N?” Y/N awkwardly stood there and opened her mouth. “So I—" “no you won’t get a bonus.” Tom says interrupting her. Y/N dropped her jaw in disbelief and then pouts. “HEY! I wasn’t gonna ask that dick— *ahem* I mean Mr.Riddle…I heard we were getting new interns?”

Tom nods, sitting his mug down. Turning towards the female who is shorter than him, he leans down and looks directly into her eyes. Y/N gulps, backing up a little with heated cheeks.

“They should be coming soon…” Tom says, he then leaves a slight flustered [h/c] female in the break room who started to look behind her. “Damn….why the cold ones always hot.” She says groaning and leaving the break room.

The next frame shows a shiny black car pulls up to the parking lot. A blond male exits out first, and then another one comes out with brunette hair.

The next scene shows two neat men, one with blonde hair and one with brown hair. The blonde man has starry eyes and moles while the other has freckles scattered on his face and dark brown eyes. They stood in front of the camera to introduce themself.

“Hello I’m Ominis Gaunt, and I’m blind.” Ominis says, twirling his cane on his flat palm. The brunette male smirked looking at the camera.

“And im Sebastian Sallow, I’m not blind.” The camera cuts off as Ominis smacks the back of Sebastian’s head.

The scene shows Y/N holding a stapler as Lorenzo holds her back from throwing it at a certain brown haired male who flipped her off. He was also getting held back by his friend Theodore. Most of the cast was watching as Tom and Draco just stood there tired of this bullshit. Pansy was yelling “fight! Fight! Fight!” As Blaise just recorded it all.

Ominis and Sebastian terribly walked into the mist of a heated rivalry. Y/N thrown the stapler, aiming to hit Mattheo. Only for Ominis to block the way towards the Riddle brother. Sebastian quickly moved out of the way.

Ominis dodges the stapler thrown at him. Silence airs out the room as the camera pans from the blonde male and the others. Ominis’s quick reflex makes the rest of the crew drop their jaw except for Sebastian who was munching on peanuts.

“He’s blind.” Sebastian says bluntly. The rest of you look in disbelief at the brunette who shrugged and walked off frame.

Next scene shows you are talking to Sebastian as mattheo sips his mug slowly. Theodore stands by his friend with a raised brow. “You jealous mate?” Mattheo chokes on his drink, wiping the remaining liquid off his lips and sitting the cup down. “Are you crazy?! Me? Jealous of that punk?” Theodore nodded, “uh, yeah?” Mattheo glared at his dear friend. The camera focuses on you putting your hand on Sebastian’s arm. Mattheo immediately snapped his head at you two.

“….okay maybe I am.” He says, his hand clinching. Theodore looks at the camera, breaking the fourth wall as he looks at the reader reading this.

The scene shows Theodore alone as he stands in front of the camera, “okay is it bad I think mattheo and Sebastian are the same but different??” You then come out of nowhere, popping behind Theodore who flinched from your existence. “Yeah! Mattheo is street smart and Sebastian is like book smart.” You said smiling.

“…where did you even come from??” The tall Slytherin questioned you while you just smiled. “I came from my mom. Duhhhh.” Theodore rolled his eyes. “Alright then.”

“But yeah, it’s like that saying of same person, different fonts.” Theodore says calling it out as the camera turns to look at Mattheo who is eyeing you from the corner with Sebastian.

Theodore grabs the camera, making it face him again. “He’s an idiot for this little "I hate y/n act. When clearly he loves hers it’s pathetic….” The camera then cuts off to mattheo grabbing you from the other brunette who raised a brow and smirked.

A/N: hey! I did this on my own time and was bored. So let me know if you want more parts or want this in a series! Love ya, and don’t be a stranger <3

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goodomensbutwrong · 1 year ago

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*texting*

Crowley: Hey.

Aziraphale: I'm out being a detective right now, what do you want?

*missed call*

Aziraphale: I said I'm being a detective posing as a journalist right now.

*missed call*

Aziraphale: My dear boy, I can't call right now!

*missed call*

Crowley: PICK UP THE PHONE.

Aziraphale: TEXT ME WHAT YOU NEED.

Crowley: Do you know where the peanut butter is?

#good omens #incorrect good omens #neil gaiman #incorrect quotes #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #anthony j crowley #david tennant #michael sheen #good omens tv #aziracrow #otp: ineffable #ineffable partners #good omens season two

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 11 months ago

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Napoleonville [Chapter 8: The New House]

Series Summary: The year is 1988. The town is Napoleonville, Louisiana. You are a small business owner in need of some stress relief. Aemond is a stranger with a taste for domination. But as his secrets are revealed, this casual arrangement becomes something more volatile than either of you could have ever imagined.

Chapter Warnings: Language, references to sexual content (18+ readers only), dom/sub dynamics, smoking, infidelity, kids, parenthood, historical topics like violence and discrimination, Cakes with Christabel, angst?? Who am I kidding. Angst!!!!!!

Word Count: 5.9k.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

Taglist: @marvelescvpe @toodlesxcuddles @era127 @at-a-rax-ia @0eessirk8 @arcielee @dd122004dd @humanpurposes @taredhunter @tinykryptonitewerewolf @partnerincrime0 @dr-aegon @persephonerinyes @namelesslosers @burningcoffeetimetravel-fics @gemini-mama @daenysx @chattylurker @moonlightfoxx @huramuna @britt-mf @myspotofcraziness @padfooteyes @targaryenbarbie @trifoliumviridi @joliettes @darkenchantress @florent1s @babyblue711 @minttea07 @libroparaiso @bluerskiees @herfantasyworldd @elizarbelll @urmomsgirlfriend1 @fudge13 @strangersunghoon @wickedfrsgrl

Only 2 chapters left!!! 🥰🧁

“I have no idea what he’s thinking,” Christabel tells Alicent, a low furtive murmur around nibbles of a cinnamon French toast cupcake. They are both sitting at the kitchen counter as you scuttle around wiping down burners and handles and knobs, trying not to listen in, unable to help yourself. At the table, Amir is frosting a Lady Baltimore cake and chatting with Criston, who has eaten no less than three miniature cherry pies in the past fifteen minutes. Amir keeps casting you wide-eyed, flummoxed glances. He means: Can you believe these people? No, you can’t.

Alicent sips the glass of sweet tea you poured for her and gazes vaguely around the room. “Oh, you know how Aemond is, dear. He works so hard. He’s so consumed by the Lake Verret project.”

“But shouldn’t he talk to me?” Christabel’s large blue eyes are luminous, persistent.

“Don’t be ridiculous, darling. Of course he talks to you.”

“Sure,” Christabel says, frowning. “He talks to me about the weather and the garden and the koi in the fish pond. He asks if I listen to Dire Straights or AC/DC. Nothing of consequence, nothing revealing. And he never touches me. Alright, fine, there’s a hand on my shoulder or my waist once in a while, for a moment. There are quick, courteous kisses. But that’s all. And he’s so…so…” She struggles to decide on a word. “Formal!”

“Have you tried the cannoli cupcake yet?” Alicent asks, sliding the plate towards Christabel. “It’s just divine. I absolutely adore it.”

“When we’re apart he says he misses me, but he hardly ever calls. He tells me that he loves me, but only if I say it first.”

“He’s marrying you!” Alicent declares as she restlessly twists her assortment of glittering rings, gold and diamonds and emeralds. “What more is there to say, dear?”

“Surely there must be something,” Christabel mumbles. She obediently samples the cannoli cupcake, carving away a tiny sliver with her fork. “Oh, that is wonderful, isn’t it?”

“I think it’s my favorite one yet.”

They have twelve flavors to choose from, some familiar and some new: vanilla bean and triple chocolate of course, the classics, and then also cannoli, cinnamon French toast, carrot, red velvet, Boston cream pie, apple cobbler, peanut butter and grape jelly, Neapolitan, Louisiana crunch, and hummingbird. Christabel surveys the selection and then looks to where you are vigorously scrubbing an already clean stovetop. “Aemond mentioned something about banana bread cupcakes. Do you have one of those we could try?”

And again, you are amazed by how much he remembers: the very first cupcake from the very first night. “Um…I’m not sure, actually. Amir, didn’t we make a batch earlier this week? Are there any still on the table?”

Amir checks the cake plates, lifting glass covers, until he locates a single remaining banana bread cupcake for your customers. He ferries it to the kitchen counter with great ceremony. “Everyone raves about this flavor! And it’s so quintessentially southern. Perfect for a Louisiana wedding.” You give him a miserable, deadened stare and he offers a millisecond smirk of commiseration. What else can we do? Amir means. And you think: Nothing.

Christabel samples the cupcake, an infinitesimal morsel speared on the very tip of her fork. You recall how Aemond tasted like sugar and honey and cinnamon when he kissed you on the night you met, rough, dominating, irresistible, without the aching weight of disappointments or betrayals. If time was a cobweb you could rip and walk through, you’d be back in that May dusk in an instant, you’d live there forever and never leave.

“That’s it.” Christabel grins as she licks cream cheese frosting from her full, pink lips. “This one. I want a banana bread cake.”

“Mmm,” Alicent agrees, taking a bite. “It has so many dimensions! Sweet with just a touch of salt, light and fluffy but with a certain substantial, rustic quality, don’t you think? It’s the cinnamon, perhaps.”

You make a note on your yellow legal pad—a reminder you don’t need—so you can avoid Christabel’s benign, guileless gaze. “Is there a design you’d like for the frosting?”

“Wildflowers.”

Amir emits a startled gasp before he can swallow it back down. You look up at Christabel. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

“Just like the vanilla bean cake you made for the engagement party.” She draws blossoms in the air with her fingers, whimsical like a fairytale. “There was white icing and then all these gorgeous flowers in a dozen different colors. You could do that for a wedding cake, couldn’t you?”

“Of course.” And then you amend: “Well, Amir can. He’s our Picasso.”

“You’ll need something for the rehearsal dinner too, dear,” Alicent tells Christabel. Then she turns to you, tugging anxiously at one of her auburn ringlets. “You’re the expert, love. What would you recommend to impress upon our guests all the history and mystique of the Deep South?”

Your mind is blank, your thoughts gnarled up with visions of Christabel meeting Aemond at the end of an aisle. Amir sees this and he saves you.

“A Napoleon cake,” he announces with his best salesman enthusiasm, powerful enough to sweep everyone else along with him.

Alicent claps her hands, elated. “Oh, just like the town!”

“It has layers of puff pastry and rich custard cream, very French, very elegant and sophisticated, but also a nod to Napoleonville. And we can add a cherry jam to make it more romantic, if you like.”

“Doesn’t that just sound heavenly, darling?”

“Does Aemond like cherries?” Christabel asks Alicent. You know he does, but you don’t say anything.

“I think so. We’ll ask him tonight to be sure.” Alicent is opening her clutch purse to get the cash to pay you; she is eager to have this errand finished, you believe. “And can you put wildflowers on top of the Napoleon cake as well?”

“You can have the Declaration of Independence written on it if that is your heart’s desire,” Amir says, then steals a glimpse of you. You’re jotting the order down and then tracing over your own letters again and again.

“That’s the color scheme,” Christabel says a bit dreamily, forever woolgathering. “Wildflowers. And I think you suggested it at the engagement party,” she tells you, appreciative. In your recollection, it was less of a suggestion than a confession of what you once dared to hope for. “Everything has to have wildflowers. Even the dress.”

Alicent groans. “Oh, Christabel, not this again.”

“I don’t know why you’re being so resistant, those dresses were spectacular.”

“Whoever heard of a multicolored wedding dress?” Alicent asks you, Amir, Criston. “It’s absurd. The bride always wears pure white, everyone knows that. It’s tradition! It’s dignified!”

“Well now I get to solicit opinions too.” Christabel reaches into her own purse—a quilted shoulder bag, light blue with red roses and a label reading Souleiado stitched inside—and produces several polaroid photographs. She gives them to you; they are all of her posing in different wedding dresses, stylish white gowns freckled with wildflowers like splashes of paint. “All anyone can talk about is what I should wear, what the guests will expect, what they will chatter about when they gossip afterwards,” Christabel tells you. And in her vast, shimmering eyes you can detect no resentment or slyness, only quiet desperation. “But you’re a real person. So be honest with me, because there’s only one thing I really care about. Will my husband think I look ravishing in any of them?”

“These theatrics,” Alicent sighs to herself, lighting a Marlboro cigarette. Again, she is peering aimlessly around the kitchen. Amir fidgets with the dogwood flower in his hair as he watches you wearily. Criston compulsively eats another miniature cherry pie.

You study the polaroid photos. Each one feels like a split lip, a fractured rib, the shredding elephantine pressure of a contraction. You wait to speak until you’re sure your voice won’t break. “They’re all stunning. But this one…” You place one picture on top of the pile. “This dress was made for you. Just look at your face. Glowing like a lightning bug.”

“Thank you,” Christabel says, beaming, immensely grateful, and she takes the photos back. She seems pacified. “You’re married, aren’t you?”

“I was, yes. Briefly. Not very happily, I must admit. But it was worth it to get my daughter.”

She smiles. There’s no uneasiness; she doesn’t shy away from displays of human frailty. “I’d like a few daughters one day. We could all dress up together and style each other’s hair.”

“I wouldn’t count on it. If I tried that, I’d get my hands chewed off.”

Christabel laughs. She wears a casual blue t-shirt, blue gingham capri trousers, and white flat pumps. Her eyeshadow is a sparkling gold, her mascara flaking onto the apples of her cheeks. She is still marveling at you with those aquamarine eyes when Alicent pulls a list out of her clutch and grudgingly crosses off items with a black ballpoint pen.

“So we’ve got a wedding cake, a rehearsal dinner cake, a dress, a venue, flowers, photographers…I still need to call about hair and makeup…and we need to pick out candles…”

“Where are you getting married?” you ask Christabel.

“The most unique, picturesque, atmospheric place in the entire state of Louisiana, I’m sure of it.”

“We took a drive to visit that church you mentioned,” Alicent says to you. “And it was absolutely perfect. None of our guest will have ever seen anything like it. And it’s so historic! Over 150 years old! The Chapel of Saint Honoratus of Amiens.”

Amir squeals, a distressed mewing that he stifles with a feigned cough into his elbow. You stand shellshocked for a few seconds before managing a generic encouragement: “Really! Wow! Amazing! Great!”

Now Christabel is rather melancholy again. She scrutinizes her engagement ring, a large teardrop emerald with a gold band. Her voice is low, like she’s talking to herself. “I just wish…I don’t know. That we had more time together before the wedding, I suppose. Then I think I’d feel like I had more of a handle on things. It’s all been such a whirlwind, such a shock. A good shock, but still. We hardly know each other.”

Alicent prompts her: “You care for Aemond, don’t you, dear?”

“I’m in awe of him,” Christabel replies, a little dazed, a little defenseless. “He’s so clever and gallant. He’s the most inspiring man I’ve ever known. And the scar…it gives him quite a roguish look, doesn’t it? Like a Bond villain. It’s not a detriment in the least.”

“Yes, yes,” Alicent says impatiently, like she’s waiting for the conversation to be over. “Then there’s nothing more to worry about. You care for him, he cares for you, and you’ll have the honeymoon to get better acquainted. Criston, would you go outside and start the Lexus, please?” He dutifully departs.

Honeymoon. Your stomach lurches, the sea in a storm. You can see Aemond’s hands on Christabel’s face, in her hair, skating up her bare thighs. You can hear him moaning her name.

“We’re going to Greece,” Christabel informs you, thinking she’s being polite. “Athens, Mykonos, Santorini, and Corfu. Have you ever been?”

I’ve never been anywhere. But instead you say, forcing a smile: “Not yet.”

When Christabel, Alicent, and Criston have gone, you look to Amir. Your blood has turned to cement: cold, heavy, immobile, trapped. “You realize she’s getting my wedding, right? The one I always wanted. The wildflowers. The candles. The chapel.”

“And she’ll even be taking your favorite dick home at the end of the night.”

You cover your face with both hands and shake your head, trying to clear it, to drive out mirages of someone else’s oasis. This can’t be real. I can’t handle it, I can’t survive it.

Amir pushes his tortoiseshell glasses up the bridge of his nose and says, gently now: “If we’re catering dessert, we’ll have to go to the wedding. The rehearsal dinner too.”

“Why would they want that? How can they not see how insanely awkward and wrong this is?”

He shrugs. “They probably think it’s normal. Wasn’t Camilla at Charles and Diana’s wedding?”

“If one more person tries to talk to me about Camilla Parker Bowles, I’m going to feed myself to the gator.”

“You’ll have to come to terms with it or you’ll have to end it. Those are the only options.”

“Yeah.” And it’s not just about me. It’s Cadi’s life too.

Amir sits down at the kitchen table, crosses one leg over the other, kicks his foot nervously. He rests an elbow on the tabletop and his chin on the knuckles of his left hand. “I hate to give you more bad news.”

You already know what he’s going to say. You’ve been dreading it for months. “You have enough money saved for San Franscisco.”

“I do.”

You exhale, your shoulders collapsing, tapping your fingertips against the counter. The air conditioner whirrs; the cicadas shriek in the trees outside. The house is hushed and still. Cadi is away at horse camp. Each day you receive a postcard in the mail that you assume the employees forced her to write at gunpoint. “When are you leaving?”

“The end of July. I’ll wait until after the wedding, once all the dust has settled. But I can’t wait any longer than that.”

“I want you to be happy,” you say. “I really do. But I’m going to miss you so much. You’ve been my best friend for a decade. You’re the closest thing I’ve ever had to a partner in life.”

Amir smiles faintly. “Come over here.”

When you sit beside him, he takes your hands in his; and you remember how he visited you in the hospital after Cadi was born, carrying a bouquet of wildflowers he picked himself and a Tupperware container full of crawfish pistolettes. He had been just a casual friend before you found out you were pregnant, one of a group, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t keep him at an arm’s length. Amir was different, and not in a way that you fully understood or accepted yet. But he was the only friend who had no judgment for you when you told him you were pregnant, who cared about how you felt, who wanted to be a part of whatever would happen next. He was the only one who stayed.

“I’ve never had a boyfriend,” Amir tells you. “I’ve never even been on a date, not once. I’ve never been in love. I’ve never had sex that wasn’t a one night stand in a New Orleans club or the back seat of my Ford Escort because those were the only places we had to go. And I’m starting to believe that people like me can’t have more than that. So I have to go someplace where I can have more, where I will have more. I don’t want love to be something that only other people get to experience. I don’t want to be afraid of leaving my house after dark or wake up every day wondering if someone has broken a window out of my car again. I have to go. There’s no future for me here. If I stay in Napoleonville, this place will kill me, one way or the other.”

Okay, you think. I can let him go. After everything he’s done for me, this is how I can be the friend that he deserves in return. “You should leave, Amir,” you say, tears stinging in your eyes. “I hear you, I understand you. I just wish I could go with you.”

“No, don’t cry, don’t cry! This isn’t the end. I’ll fly back to visit, you know that. Grandma’s still here, you and Cadi are here. And you can visit me too. Maybe you’ll even settle down on the West Coast someday. Eight more years and you’re free.”

You try to imagine your life then: Cadi headed off to college—and she will go to college, you’ve already decided that—and your tether to Willis weakened, closer to 40 years old than 30, Aemond and Christabel nearing their anniversary. How many children will they have by then? Three? Four? And the Lake Verret project will be well-established and no longer in need of so much of Aemond’s attention, and the house they call The Last Desire will sit empty on the lakeshore, warm draughts breathing through it like blood in veins. “I wouldn’t know how to exist anywhere else.”

“You’d learn,” Amir says confidently. “Now, have you ever made a Napoleon cake before?”

“I don’t think so. Not that I can remember.” You consider this. “My mom might have a recipe lying around somewhere. I’ll call and ask her.”

“Yes, do that,” Amir agrees. “If she doesn’t, I’ll try to dig one up at the library. We’ll want to have a few practice runs before the rehearsal dinner. Gotta impress the Rockefellers and their soulless millionaire ilk. Unless you were planning to have a homicidal meltdown and make the custard out of antifreeze or something.”

You chuckle. “No. Probably not.”

“It would be difficult to blame you.” And he turns on the little pink Panasonic radio: Alone by Heart.

~~~~~~~~~~

In a spacious corner booth of the Olive Garden in Gonzales, Aemond is talking about Lake Verret as you pick at your Tour of Italy and Frank Sinatra pipes through the speakers. You could swear they have the same three songs playing on a loop: Fly Me To The Moon, My Way, Luck Be A Lady, back to outer space again.

“But by total coincidence, Daeron has been researching desalination techniques for his latest article. Apparently there are ways to try to mitigate the damage and reduce the brackishness of the water, so we’re going to be—”

Abruptly, you ask: “Where does Christabel think you are right now?”

Aemond’s forehead crinkles, his fork hovers above his plate of herb-grilled salmon. He’s wearing a black t-shirt and his Marlboro jacket, jeans, Adidas sneakers. “Why do you care?”

“She’s getting the wedding I always wanted, did you even notice? She’s getting married at the Chapel of Saint Honoratus of Amiens in Belle River. She’s getting wildflowers and flickering candles.” And she’s getting you too.

“Okay,” Aemond says slowly. “I’m not involved in any of that.”

“I think you are, actually, because you’re kind of the groom.”

“But I don’t do the wedding planning,” he insists. “I have no idea what Christabel has arranged. My job is to be there on the day in a suit and that’s just about the extent of the real estate it takes up in my brain.”

“She’s never mentioned any of that to you? Not once? You’d swear on your life?”

He sets down his fork with a clang and stares fixedly at you. Your waitress glances over from several tables away where she is refilling a couple’s sweet tea glasses. “What do you want me to say? I’m sorry you had good ideas and other people liked them. It fucking sucks that you didn’t get the wedding you wanted when you were seventeen. But that wasn’t my fault. I didn’t know you yet, and you didn’t know me. You can’t blame me for what Willis or anyone else did.”

“But it’s not fair,” you choke out, sounding weak and juvenile, and you hate it but you can’t stop. “I understand that you’re marrying her, I get that, but she can’t have everything.”

“Look…” Aemond laces his hands together on top of the table, and his voice softens. “Even if Christabel didn’t exist, even if you were from my world, even if you were a duchess or a socialite or the daughter of the president of the United States of America, I still couldn’t marry you.”

You scoff; it’s despicable. “Because of Cadi?”

“No,” Aemond says, like that’s preposterous, like he’d never consider her to be a liability. “Because I have to have heirs.”

“Fuck you,” you hiss with vitriol that stuns him. Now the waitress is gawking. “You’re going to manipulate Christabel into walking down that aisle and then immediately get her pregnant?”

“Why are you mad at me?! I’m listening to you, I’m respecting you! You don’t want to have any more children of your own, fine, completely reasonable, I would never ask you to have a baby and go through all of that again for the sake of the Targaryen dynasty, but somebody has to!”

“You really don’t understand why I would empathize with a teenage girl trying to raise a child when she’s lonely and exhausted and confused about why the man she married isn’t turning out to be who she expected?”

Aemond shakes his head like it’s not a valid comparison. “She wants this.”

“She doesn’t know what it is. She doesn’t understand what she’s signing up for.”

“Everyone from a family like mine goes through this,” Aemond says. “My grandparents did, my mum and dad did, Aegon did, even bloody Charles and Diana did, and now it’s my turn. There are growing pains, but people adjust and it all works out eventually. Christabel will learn to manage her expectations, and once the children are born she can find happiness wherever and with whoever she wants to.”

“But you’ll be with her,” you forced out, voice fracturing, and at first Aemond doesn’t grasp what you mean. “You’ll…you’ll sleep with her. You’ll touch her, you’ll kiss her, you’ll do everything with her.”

“Surely you, as someone who called up a stranger from a personal ad in the Bayou Journal, comprehends that sex can be a solely physical act under the right circumstances.”

“So what, you’ll fuck me and then go home to her? Or you’ll fuck her and come home to me? And I’m supposed to live like that?”

“Yes,” he says, like it’s simple, like it’s easy.

You gaze morosely out of the restaurant window. In the distance is a Dollar General, a Burger King, the Kmart where you had to buy your own engagement ring.

“Do you want me to tell Christabel to change the wedding?”

“No.”

“Because if I tell her to pick a new venue, new flowers, new cakes, whatever, she’ll do it.”

“No. She likes her wedding. I can’t take that away from her. She thinks I’m her friend.”

“Cupcake,” Aemond says, tenderly now. You turn back to him. “I don’t want to fight with you. I’m going to be gone for a while, four or five days. I have to fly to Norway and inspect some of the offshore rigs we have up there.”

“In the North Sea?” you ask, alarmed. “Isn’t that dangerous?”

“I mean, it’s oil drilling. It’s one of the most deadly professions in the world. But that’s how we built our fortune, our legacy. I’ve survived before, I’m sure I will again. If you need anything while I’m gone, you can call the house. Criston knows that you’re to be taken care of.”

“No one else can go to Norway instead of you?”

“I have to go.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s my responsibility.”

“Because Viserys told you to?”

“They amount to the same thing.”

“I don’t think you should listen to him.”

“I have to go,” Aemond says again. He takes out his wallet and lays $30 on the table. “But there’s something I need to show you first.”

As Aemond’s red Audi Quattro barrels down Route 70 southbound towards Napoleonville, you say very little to each other. Once you were strangers, and the words flowed easily and your bodies intertwined with effortless need, and now you have known each other for nearly two months and shared days and nights and confessions and yet every ghost filled up the space between you until it was a splinter, a gap, a gulf, a chasm. You miss the person he was when he showed up on your sloping, creaking porch steps back in May. You miss the person you were before you found out about Christabel.

A Men At Work song comes on the car radio, and it takes you a moment to figure out which one. It’s Down Under, a bewildering hit from 1981. “I never understood this song,” you say, staring through the open window as a jungle of southern live oaks, dogwoods, and cypresses rolls by. Rivulets of opaque, slow-moving bayou water snake through the wild green. Pelicans flap their wings in the pink-golden dusk sky. “What’s a head full of zombie? What’s a Vegemite sandwich?”

Aemond laughs, a smoldering Marlboro Red nestled in his left hand. You wonder if once he’s married he’ll wear a gold band on his ring finger, if he’ll take it off when he cheats with you. “Cupcake, it’s obviously about Australia.”

“What?”

“Down Under? As in, literally below the rest of us in the Southern Hemisphere? Head full of zombie means they’ve been smoking weed. Vegemite is a kind of yeast spread they put on sandwiches. I’ve had it, it’s disgusting. The whole song is in Australian slang. Everyone knows it’s about Australia.”

I didn’t. You look out your window again. Aemond takes note and swiftly backpedals.

“But I mean, I can see how an American wouldn’t know that. No big deal, okay? To anyone in the Commonwealth, Australia is like our fuckup sibling. It’s our Aegon. But you guys probably don’t really learn about Australia in school. So…yeah. It’s probably not as obvious as I assumed.”

“Maybe I missed that lesson,” you say. Maybe I missed that year.

In a brand new neighborhood just outside the town center of Napoleonville, Aemond parks in the paved driveway of a ranch house on a three or four acre lot. The yard is bordered by a white masonry fence with chicken wire around the base to keep snakes and gators out. There are a few dogwood and bay laurel trees, and one monstrous southern live oak that’s probably two hundred years old. Aemond cuts the Audi Quattro’s engine and steps out into the twilight.

“Aemond? What are we doing here?”

“Follow me.”

“Why?”

He walks around to your side of the car, opens the door, and leans down to grab your face with his right hand, his fingers hooked around the curve of your jaw. Instantly, there is a bolt down your spine: hunger, warmth, weakness, momentum that is thoughtless like falling from a great height. “Follow me,” he repeats, grinning mischievously. “Right now.”

Aemond has a key that unlocks the front door. Inside is rose pink carpeting and mauve walls, a sunken conversation pit, popcorn ceilings, mini blinds on the windows, closet doors covered with mirrors. You can see your face reflected in them, puzzled.

“This is the living room, clearly,” Aemond says as he continues briskly through the house. As an afterthought, he kicks off his Adidas sneakers so he doesn’t track any dirt inside. You do the same, sliding off your cheap flats from Kmart. He points down a hallway. “There are two guest bedrooms down there, and then a big one at the other end of the house with its own private bath. Here’s the kitchen…” He leads you through it, mint green with pristine black and white tiles on the floor. “And over there is the dining room.” It’s a kind, golden yellow like dawn or sunset.

“Aemond, what—?”

“Bedroom next,” he interrupts, hurrying you along.

At the end of the hall, he opens a door to reveal a sprawling chamber. It is blue like his bedroom in the Targaryen mansion, but not a deep, vivid sapphire color; it is a pale blue like prairie flax or a clear midday sky. The carpet is lush and soft. There are mirrors on the ceiling.

“Those are optional,” Aemond clarifies, pointing upwards. “But personally, I like them.”

“Aemond, whose house is this?”

“It’s yours,” he says.

“It’s what?!”

“Well, technically, it isn’t yours quite yet,” he admits. “I bought it in cash, it will close in a week or two. At that point I’ll sell it to you for $1—the same price as one of your cupcakes, incidentally—and then it will officially be your house. And it doesn’t even have a sinking foundation or any alligators. Imagine the possibilities.”

“But…but…”

“Cadi’s bedroom is green, like the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. I’ve been told the yard is big enough for one horse, or two very small horses. Ponies, I guess.”

“You cannot buy me a house,” you say, aghast.

“I think I already did.” He holds out the key to you, resting in his palm among lines of prophesy.

You are paralyzed; it takes you forever to find your words. “Aemond, I’ll never be able to repay you.”

“You don’t owe me anything. It’s a gift, not a trade,” he says, the key still lying in his outstretched hand. “Every cent I spend on you, every second I spend with you, is solely because I want to do it and for no other reason. There’s no obligation. There’s no quid pro quo. And that’s what I feel like you don’t understand. I have no logical reason to keep you in my life, absolutely none, aside from the fact that I want you to be here. And I want that with everything I’m made of. I never stop wanting it. So let me help you. Take the key. Take the house.”

His right eye is on you, imploring, commanding. At last, you lift the key from his palm. Studying it like the cryptic letter of a foreign language, you murmur: “You shouldn’t have done this.”

Aemond rakes his fingers through your hair, tilts your face up towards his, skims his lips feather-lightly from your cheekbone down to your lips—though he doesn’t kiss you, only ghosts his flesh over yours, a taste, a taunt—and then up to the curl of your ear. His whispered voice is colored with wicked scarlet desire. “You don’t tell me what to do. I tell you what to do.”

If he yanked off your t-shirt you would let him. If he unzipped your denim shorts and slipped his artful fingers inside them he would find panties soaked through for him. You would let him do anything he wanted to you, here in this glass-fragile liminality before he becomes Christabel’s in law, in body, in inked and inerasable history. But it would not be because you want to, not because you feel ready in your bones, not because you trust him again. It would only be because you could not bring yourself to resist.

Aemond reads this on your face; he stops before you have to tell him to.

~~~~~~~~~~

On July 1st, Cascade Stables is swarming with parents as they descend upon the property to collect their children and meet the horses they’ve spent the past week with. There is a stereo somewhere blaring Your Love by The Outfield; apparently, this does not disturb the horses. You find Cadi beside the stall of a very tall, willowy beast, ears upright and alert, one bulging eye onyx and the other a striking icy blue. Its coat is white with a splattering of rust-colored stains. Even its mane and tail are comprised of alternating strands, dark, light, earth, clouds, cocoa powder, granulated sugar.

“His name is Patches,” Cadi tells you proudly as she pets the leviathan’s velvety muzzle. “He has a wall eye. And he’s a real handful and usually they only allow the experienced campers to ride him, but they let me try and he listened so well I got to keep him all week!”

“Wow, that’s incredible! Good job! Did you learn a lot about how to take care of him?”

“Yeah. They taught me how to feed Patches and clean his hooves and put a saddle on him. And how to hit him with a hairbrush when he tries to bite me.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Right. Okay.”

“Can we buy him? He’s for sale. Probably because of all the biting.”

“Who, Patches?” You definitely cannot afford to board a horse; and then you remember the new house. “I’ll think about it.”

Cadi peeks around you. “Daddy isn’t here too?”

“No, honey, I’m sorry. He had to work. But he really wanted to see the horses and he is looking forward to hearing all about your adventures.” This is a lie—Willis seems only dimly aware of the concept of a horse camp, and he is staunchly incurious by nature—but a compassionate one.

Cadi accepts the explanation readily enough. “Alright. Is Aemond your boyfriend yet?”

“Um.” You thread the horse’s forelock through your fingers to buy yourself time. It seems unwise to try to deceive her again; Cadi will learn about Christabel sooner or later. “No, we’re still just friends.” You pause. She watches you, knowing there’s more. “Actually, he’s getting married this month.”

“What?!” Cadi is shocked, but she’s outraged too. “To who?!”

“To a nice lady named Christabel. And I’m sure they’ll be very happy together.” Another lie. And you think for the first time: If I settle for being Aemond’s mistress, if I let it tear me to pieces…what am I teaching Cadi?

Your daughter doesn’t say anything for a long time. She pets Patches’ speckled face, her own expression tense and thoughtful, lines and worries that should be far beyond her age. At last she says quietly: “Is it because of me?”

You are mystified. “What, honey?”

“Is the reason why you and Aemond can’t get married because of me?”

There is a flash of crimson wrath in your skull—protective, animalistic, wronged on her behalf—but no one to direct it at. “No. No, absolutely not. Why would you say that?”

Cadi shrugs, and you recognize it as her self-preservation, faux-flippant shrug. “I don’t know. One time I heard Michelle’s mom talking about how no decent man wants to deal with some other guy’s kids. And that’s me when I’m at your house. Another guy’s kid.”

Oh, fuck you, Janet. “No,” you say again. “Aemond likes you a lot, Cadi. He cares about you.” He picked out a house that could accommodate a horse for you. “You’re the opposite of a problem. He actually likes me more because of you, I think.”

“Okay.” And she’s relieved, although she’s trying not to show it. “Then why is he marrying someone else?”

“Well…it’s complicated.”

“Complicated how?”

Where the hell do I start? “Aemond and I are very different people,” you tell Cadi. “And we want different things out of life. We like to spend time together, but that doesn’t mean that we’d be able to share our whole lives…homes, careers, values, everything. His family has a lot of expectations of him that I don’t feel right supporting, but Aemond wants to respect their rules. And, you know. He’s a robber baron.”

“But he doesn’t talk about Jade Dragon Energy or oil around me. He talks about history.”

You sigh, watching dust motes swirl through the hot, sunlit stable air, listening to horses nicker and huff. “I know, honey.”

“I don’t even think he wants to be a robber baron. I think he wants to be something else.”

“Like what?” you ask, picking stray bits of yellow straw out of her short, disheveled hair. And remarkably, Cadi tolerates this.

“I don’t know, just…just…” She battles with the words, then finds one she likes. “Free, I guess. Just free.”

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond x you #aemond #aemond x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x y/n

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notsoattractivearenti · 2 years ago

Text

1+1 = 4 (Mason Mount x Fem!Reader)

WC: 3.0K

Warnings: mention of c-section, post-surgery recovery

A/N: i haven’t written anything since last month and i’ve missed writing so here it is... dad!Mason for me and y'all my loves 🥰🫶🏻 apologies if this isn’t so good lol tbh i wrote this for my own comfort cuz it's been an extremely rough few weeks so i kinda needed this and i’m a huge sucker for my faves as attentive partner and dad fics! not to mention this is officially the longest fic I've written + posted here! hope you guys enjoy and i’d love to hear your thoughts thru ask/reply/reblog 💗 apologies for any grammatical errors! feedbacks are highly appreciated 🤍

—

You just woke up from a short nap after your C-section. Your baby was not supposed to be born for another month, but when your doctor saw the umbilical cord was wrapped around their neck during ultrasound, they told you and Mason that an emergency C-section had to be done the next day before your baby moved to the birth position. You recalled the day it happened.

—

You were really scared and nervous even though you have given birth before – but your first pregnancy and labor went smoothly so you didn’t exactly anticipate this. Plus, you had never gone through any major surgery your whole life – you just were not ready at all. You wanted another vaginal delivery but since the circumstances changed, you didn’t have a choice and all you cared about was your little one coming into the world safe and sound.

Mason was scared too, but he tried to conceal it from you. He just knew he had to be by your side all the time, as you were about to go through another life-changing moment but not as you planned. He was worried about the baby but even more about you – he felt so helpless because he basically couldn’t do anything but be there for you. If he could, he would make himself be the one who bears the pain instead of you.

On the way home after the checkup, you sat in the passenger seat and just silently stared at the road with your hand resting on top of your belly – subconsciously rubbing it sometimes – while thinking about the sudden news. Mason noticed how quiet you were, and as he drove he grabbed your hand to hold it tight.

“My dear, everything will be okay,” he said softly, “little peanut will be just fine. So will you.”

You sighed. “Maybe you’re right, but Mase...” Your voice was shaky, “I’m terrified. I really am...”

He took his eyes off the road for a second to glance at you, then kissed your hand and rubbed it with his thumbs repeatedly.

“I know, Y/N. But you’re the strongest person I’ve ever known and you’re going to get through this like the badass you are.” He assured you.

“And I will be with you the entire time and take care of you. I promise.” He added.

You smiled a little, still nervous but way less than before. You knew he was also worried yet he still gave you the comfort you needed. That is one of the things about Mason that made you fall in love with him in the first place.

“Also, picture how excited Gem will be when she finds out she’s going to meet her baby sibling soon!”

Before Mason even finished his sentence, the possible scenario was already playing in your head. You looked back to the time you and Mason broke the news to Gemma, your 4 year-old daughter – she screamed then cried out of happiness. She has been so excited to have a little sister or brother since and kept asking when will the baby be born. You could clearly imagine how she would react this time.

“Oh God,” you put your hand on your forehead and jokingly groaned, “she’s going to scream her ass off again isn’t she?”

He shook his head playfully and laughed. “Well that’s my daughter alright!”

—

During the surgery, Mason was sitting next to you the whole time, not wanting to let go of your hand. You were fully conscious since you had regional anesthesia, and to distract yourself from your anxious thoughts you and Mason chatted about the most random things – and it helped calming you down.

You both decided not to find out about your baby’s sex just like when you were pregnant with Gemma. Of course you two were curious, but you wanted to surprise yourselves. A boy or a girl, it doesn't really matter because you will love the baby regardless of the sex.

Suddenly, you both heard the sound of your baby’s cry. The doctor lifted them up so you two could see and excitedly announced, “Congratulations, it’s a girl!”

You and Mason had your mouths wide open and looked at each other immediately once you knew you had another daughter. She came to join your little family sooner than expected, but she was healthy and all your worry was gone in an instant. Mason kissed your forehead and your lips, then whispered to your ears, “Thank you baby, I’m so proud of you.”

The nurse then brought the baby to you so you could see her up close. She put her next to your face, and you could feel tears of happiness streaming down your face – the presence of your newborn girl warmed your heart.

“Hi baby girl,” you tearfully greeted your daughter, “welcome to the world! Mommy loves you so much.”

Mason watched that moment and he was left speechless. He couldn’t stop smiling and crying as he couldn’t find the words to describe the overwhelming joy and immense love he felt at the moment. He was still processing the fact that he had another girl to love for the rest of his life. As he wiped his tears, he quietly whimpered in awe, “she’s so precious… My little peanut.”

—

As you woke up from your nap post surgery, you could feel the anesthesia started to wear off. You moaned and pressed your lips together over the pain you felt on the incision area. You couldn’t really get up because when you tried to move even a little bit, it would hurt so bad. You looked around the hospital room you were in and you saw Mason sitting on the sofa near the window while holding your newborn daughter.

He didn’t take his eyes off of her even for a second, you could tell he was so in love. This reminded you of the day when Gemma was just born – once he held her in his arms, his eyes were locked on her.

You couldn’t stop staring at him as you found this moment so heartwarming and adorable. He then took a quick look at you and when he saw you were awake, a wide smile appeared on his face.

“Oh look, Mommy’s awake,” he said as he got off the sofa to come over to you, “how are you feeling sweetheart?”

“Uh… pain...” You muttered. “But don’t worry, I’m okay.”

“Oh no… I’m sorry, Y/N.” He knitted his eyebrows, the tone of his voice showed how worried he really was. “Tell me what I can do to help ease it. I’ll do anything to make you feel better.”

You smiled as his hand was stroking your arm.

“Thank you love,” you said to Mason, “but let’s just wait for the nurse. With you two here with me right now I can handle this pain.”

“By the way… Can you stop hogging my baby and hand her over to her mom?” You jokingly asked him.

“Oops, sorry!” He laughed while gently putting her on your side.

—

Few hours later, the nurse suggested you get out of bed and try walking around for a bit. Even though you were still experiencing discomfort, you gladly took her suggestion as you didn’t like laying in the bed for too long. Mason, who wasn’t fond of the idea, expressed his concern to the nurse.

“Ma’am, are you sure it’s okay? The wound on my wife’s stomach is still fresh… Isn’t it too soon?”

“Sir, I get your concern and I can guarantee you it is necessary as it is a part of the recovery. Moving around after the surgery helps the recovery process. Don’t need to worry, we’ll check in on you every so often. If you need anything, you can call us by pushing the button next to the bed.” The nurse explained to both of you in a calm manner.

Mason sighed in relief and nodded.

“Thank you,” you said to the nurse, “this is my first time going through a C-section and my husband and I have been very anxious about it. Not to mention this was unplanned so we didn’t exactly come prepared.”

“Understandable. It is normal to feel nervous, Ma’am. We are happy to help.” The nurse acknowledged your worries.

As soon as the nurse left the room, you tried to get out of bed and grimaced while one of your hands was on your wound area. Mason was getting you a glass of water when he saw you – fright was written all over his face immediately.

“Baby!” He spontaneously yelled as he rushed over to your side and helped you. out.

“Ssshh, Mase, I’m alright,” you put your arm around his neck and tried to soothe him, “just want to get up, that's all.”

“Don’t be so stubborn!” He was shaking a little – he felt a genuine fear. “My God, Y/N, you almost gave me a heart attack.”

“Oh please, don’t be a drama queen,” you couldn’t help but make fun of his reaction. “I said I’m alright, hahaha!”

He playfully rolled his eyes in response. You laughed at him and suddenly felt stabbing pain on your wound.

“Ouch!” You shouted. “Man, I can't even laugh without feeling pain!”

“Well, I’m glad you were amused but I guess no more comedy for a while for you, Mrs. Mount.” he said as he stroked your back.

Mason gently supported your body and carefully assisted you on taking your first steps post surgery. You squeezed your eyes, ground your teeth and winced as you were still experiencing the sharp pain – especially when you moved. Mason’s heart ached seeing you struggling like this, he felt guilty even but he knew nothing else he could do but support you throughout the recovery.

“Don’t rush it, sweetheart. It hasn’t been 12 hours after the surgery,” he emphasized. “Just take one little step at the time when you’re ready, okay?”

—

“Baby, Gem is coming here with my parents!” He excitedly shouted from across the room.

Your eyes widened and a squeal left your mouth when you heard that Gemma was coming. As you were in the hospital, Mason’s parents were taking care of her. You have been looking forward to the moment when your girls finally met. She had been impatiently waiting to be able to hold her baby sibling – she even practiced with her doll all the time.

At this point you could stand up, walk, and sit down. The incision still hurt and discomfort came and went all the time but the painkiller was working well and the bliss of having a newborn was able to distract your mind from the pain. Mason had been so attentive to you and always ready to help you. He thought you needed a day to rest, therefore with your permission he respectfully asked everyone – except your parents and siblings – not to pay a visit at the hospital and wait until you all settled at your home instead.

“Where is Gem now? Is she close? Are they here already?” You eagerly asked.

“I don’t know,” he answered, “I’ll call my mum.”

And before he even pressed call, Debbie texted him to let him know they just arrived at the hospital. He was beaming when he saw the text, and passed the news to you.

“They’re here! I’ll go get them,” he said as he kissed your forehead and got out to pick them up.

Trying not to hurt yourself, you didn’t act too excited on the outside but you sure were within. Sitting down on your bed, you pulled the baby crib closer and carefully picked her up.

“Hey little angel,” you whispered softly into her tiny ear, “you’re about to meet your big sister. She’s been waiting for you… You’re going to love her as much as she loves you.”

She made a slight smile and you noticed that. You chuckled, you thought it was like she was also excited to meet Gemma. You gave little kisses all over her cute face, and as you did that you could feel how you were completely filled with great love and glee – one more girl has stolen your heart.

Suddenly, you heard the door was opened, followed by a little giggle you love so much. Your heart was beating really fast – it was going to be one of the biggest moments in your life – you didn’t know if you could handle your emotions when it happened.

You saw Gemma walking in with one hand holding her dad’s and the other covering her mouth. She looked so eager to finally see her baby sibling – she didn’t know it was a girl beforehand – and you wanted to see how she reacted when she found out she had a sister. Behind them were Debbie and Tony, and Debbie had already started recording with Mason’s phone. Gemma then saw you and excitedly yelled, “Mommy!”

You giggled and waved at her in response.

“Do you want to sit next to Mommy and baby peanut, Gem?” Mason gently asked her.

“Yes Daddy! I want to see my baby peanut now!” She responded impatiently.

Mason picked her up and sat her down next to you. When she saw her sister up close, she squealed and said “Wow, baby peanut is so small and cute!”

You introduced your firstborn to your newborn.

“Gemma, meet Iris…”

She gasped and looked at both you and Mason in disbelief.

“You have a sister, Gem!” Mason cheered.

Gemma was so happy to have a sister and she started to cry. You might have pictured this beautiful moment in your head before but what really happened was a lot better than you had imagined. It was quite overwhelming to see how emotional she was and you eventually cried as well. Mason was really touched, almost shed a tear when he saw how you and Gemma were crying. He immediately grabbed some tissues from his pocket – he was aware this was going to happen – to wipe the tears off his girls’ faces.

“Mommy… Can I hold Iris?” Gemma nervously asked, her big brown eyes were still watery but you could see the sparkles of joy in them.

“Of course, sweetie.”

You carefully handed Iris onto Gemma’s lap, teaching her how to support Iris’ little body. She was so gentle and cautious, uneasy at first as if she was afraid to hurt Iris. Mason tried to ease her since he got how nervous Gemma was – he kissed the top of her head over and over again while assuring her that she was doing fine holding her sister – and it worked out even though it took a while.

Finally feeling comfortable, Gemma gently let go of one of her hands and started caressing Iris’ cheeks. Her eyes were locked in just like his dad earlier, and you just knew she was so deeply in love with her little sister.

“She’s so beautiful, isn’t she, Gem?” Mason was beaming in awe and Gemma nodded in agreement.

Both Gemma and Mason showered Iris with kisses. The immense amount of love Iris was getting made your heart soar. You looked at your husband and your girls and thought to yourself: how did I get so lucky?

Mason then gave you a quick but passionate kiss on your lips. He looked deeply into your eyes and expressed his gratitude and appreciation for you.

“Y/N, the way you had to bear the pain to bring me two amazing kids to our life is unbelievable. You are the most incredible woman and I can never thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me, for us… I’m so lucky to have you as my wife and the mother of our girls. I will always try to make you happy, feel loved and give you everything you need and deserve because you have given me the life I’ve always dreamed of…”

You had no words and were about to cry again. You pulled him closer and pressed your lips against his – it was a moment full of tenderness and sweet affection. As your lips parted, you two whispered “I love you” to one another.

Debbie – who was still recording – and Tony were also emotional although they were trying to keep themselves together because they thought they didn’t want to ruin the beautiful moment between your little family. You then asked the grandparents to come see the newest addition to the Mount family.

“Iris Mount… Such a beautiful name, Y/N!” Tony complimented.

“That’s perfect for her! Thank you, Y/N, for giving us wonderful grandkids!” Debbie chimed in and gave you a hug.

“Uh, Mum… I contributed too, you know. Why don’t I get a thank-you? ” Mason jokingly protested.

“Yes but you weren’t the one who carried them for months and gave birth, were you?” Debbie lightheartedly replied.

You chuckled at their banter – you held yourself back from laughing as usual because it would hurt you.

With his mother clearly winning the argument, Mason humorously backed out, pouted then stated his closing statement.

“That’s true. But Y/N and I do make the most beautiful babies.”

Debbie and Tony couldn’t help but laugh at his comeback.

—

Yes, he might not be the one who was pregnant and given birth, but he has always been an amazing and present father to Gemma. No matter how tight his schedule could be, he would always make time for her daughter. He might have missed a few milestones that happened unexpectedly but other than those he never wanted to miss out so much on his daughter’s life. When he was out of town for away games, he always asked for daily updates on Gemma and called you on Facetime in every chance he got.

Mason is an ultimate girl dad and takes great pride in it. He would dress up as princess wearing a tiara and Gemma’s little dress that barely fits him and have a tea party with her, buy a makeup set she asked for, and sometimes he would show up at training wearing a headband with the biggest bow on his head because Gemma put it on him before he left. He always said he loves being a girl dad and would do it all over again – now he really gets to do it all over again…

—

taglist: @pulisicsgirl @neverinadream @masonspulisic @swimmingismywholelife @chelseagirl98 @bracedes @lovelynikol16 @thoseboysinblue @lizzypotter14 @mortirolo @masonsrem

#mason mount #mason mount x y/n #mason mount x fem!reader #mason mount x reader #mason mount fic #mason mount fanfic #mason mount imagines #mason mount fluff #footballer imagines #footballer fanfic #footballer fic #footballer fluff

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ryuichirou · 4 months ago

Note

Can we see some of your figurines? 👉👈

Omg Anon, yes of course!!

Luckily, you have the most perfect timing because I started reorganising them not that long ago (+ because I have Katsu around right now to take all the pictures while I’m working lol). It’s still not perfect, but for now this is how they look.

Also, sorry for the quality… My phone isn’t the best for taking pictures.

Aniplex Azul! He is very gorgeous and I am trying to make him a little shrine; I already put a little cauldron with coins under his shelf, and I’m planning to decorate his surroundings with some fish tank accessories. His shelf is actually a little plastic showcase thingie they use for candy at stores. Azul is the biggest candy of them all lol

Here are the rest of my twst figurines + a bunch of nendos and lookups. Also Souko! Don’t mind her broken whip, I’ll fix it one day. She is very dear to me because she is a gift from Katsu (Azul too!).

Idia’s sitting down figure is absolutely perfect by the way. I am very happy it’s finally mine. And Vil too!! <3 Vil’s face is much prettier than I thought it would be (what a wild thing to say). And then there is Azul… who sits like a teacher and bullies his husband to the wall…

Some other guys. We haven’t watched Legend of the Galactic Heroes yet, but I got these figures the moment their pre-orders popped-up because I figured we’ll end up enjoying these dudes eventually. And if not, I’ll just sell them…

Also yes, I have three Atobes. I miss Prince of Tennis.

More nendos, Yowapeda boys, South Park boys, very random (likely bootleg) Asuka. Poor Eren is stuck with that pole forever, and Levi and Erwin don’t seem to be very eager to help him out.

Peanuts…. Some of them are from McDonald’s, some of them are proper figurines. I love collecting these a lot. Lucy in her psychiatric booth is my favourite, I am very happy that I have her lol She is a morale booster.

Some tiny ones. Marchen and Elise are actually keychains, and boy were they overpriced, but SanHora merch is so rare that I really wanted to get them. Also I know you are not surprised to learn that Ichimatsu is my matsu-boy.

Last but definitely not least, my Trixie Mattel doll. Nothing to say about her, she is special and absolutely perfect. Worth every penny and all the nervous breakdowns I had when I wasn’t sure if I would be able to get her because of all the shit that happened in the world after the preorder.

This is it for now, I think. I’ve been collecting figurines for more than 15 years now, and I at some point I sold some of my older ones, but I’ve been getting very excited about making my collection look good lately. I’ll keep working hard…

#replies

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stranger-fanfiction-n-things · 8 days ago

Text

YOU'RE SUCH AN EGG HEAD

This is an Original Character fanfiction. All Stranger Things characters and content are owned by Netflix and The Duffer Brothers.

a/n: I wrote this in 2023; it was the first one shot (?) I ever wrote and first fic related to the rewrite. I didn't have a name for Diana yet, which is why it is in first person. My writing schedule didn't go according to plan with my dwindling mental health, but I wanted to post this as a thank you for everyone who continues to read my Stranger Things Rewrite!

This takes place after the events of Season 2 after the Snow Ball but before Christmas.

Please let me know what y'all think :) Happy Holidays!

Warnings: Extra Fluff

Word Count: 4483

Masterlist

Sunday December 23, 1984

There was an unspoken rule in our house: No Christmas music before December 1st. Although I don’t know who made the rule but part of me thinks it was Dad because he doesn’t like the holiday season. He thinks it’s too stressful with all the decorating, baking and gift wrapping. Dad hates gift wrapping. He says there’s no point when it will all be torn to shreds anyway. Christmas is my favourite holiday. I love everything about it. The Christmas music, gift wrapping, decorating, but especially baking.

Every year for as long as I can remember I would help Mom bake Christmas cookies for the family and our neighbours. Gingerbread cookies, peanut butter blossoms, molasses cookies, sugar cookies, white chocolate and cranberry cookies, chocolate crinkle cookies and classic chocolate chip cookies. As of three years ago, Mom gave me the responsibility of doing all the Christmas baking. A responsibility I hold near and dear to my heart. This morning, I woke up bright and early to start with chocolate chip cookies for the Byers family, they are on the cooling rack. Now, I am scooping the dough of the peanut butter blossoms for Dustin and Miss Henderson onto the parchment paper. I count a total of 12 evenly divided circles.

To me, baking is an intimate activity. A love language. A meaningful relationship between a person and food. It helps me relax; the process time consuming. I am undisturbed and in a different world. The doorbell ringing pops my domestic bubble. I frown peering down the foyer at the front door. Mom, Dad and Lucas wouldn’t ring the doorbell. Erica wasn’t expecting anyone. I wasn’t expecting anyone either. Eddie was busy running errands for his uncle Wayne. It couldn’t be him. I freeze feeling a shiver run down my spine. The past year has been filled with monsters and alternate universes. I take a deep breath and remind myself that the Hive was gone. Steve, the kids and I burned it down last month. Will was safe with my brother at Mike’s house. Billy will never come near me or Lucas ever again. It was all over. A Demogorgon cannot knock on a door and wouldn’t. Not even if it were D'Artagnan.

I walk toward the front door, wiping my hands on my apron before slowly turning the handle opening the door a smidge so only my eyes can be seen by the stranger. To my surprise and relief, I am met with beautiful dark brown eyes and a dazzling smile.

“Eddie?” I say, opening the door wide. A cold breeze blows past making me shiver. “What are you doing here? I thought you were running errands for Wayne?”

“I finished them early thought I’d stop by to say hi.”

Dark brown eyes pan down my body. I look down instantly wanting the ground to swallow me up. Not expecting company, I threw on one of the sweaters my Grandma Giselle “GG” sent from Virginia. Beneath my powder blue gingham print apron with white ruffles (also from GG) I’m wearing a baby pink sweater with baby kittens all over. The collar of the sweater is embellished with white lace ruffles making me look like Queen Elizabeth I. Erica, Lucas and Dad laugh at it anytime I put it on (Dad tries to cover it with a cough, but I know he’s laughing). It’s okay if my family sees me and laughs at me, I don’t care. I think the sweater is cute and cozy. But never did I think my boyfriend would see me in it.

Eddie’s smile widens to a grin. Displaying his deep dimples. “I love this,” he gushes pointing at my outfit, eyes twinkling.

I quickly cross my arms over my chest feeling my cheeks grow hot. I scrunch my nose looking down at my socked feet. GG also sent me matching socks to go with my sweater. I have two more sets in baby blue and lavender.

“No, no. Don’t hide from me. Ever,” he says, uncrossing my arms and holding my hands. “You look cute.”

I peer up at him through my lashes. Eddie leans back observing me once again. He sniffs the air peering around the front door.

“Are you baking?”

“Yes, I am.” I reply happily.

Eddie stares at me, his grin unwavering. I feel myself growing shyer under his intense gaze and I want to cover myself again but he’s still holding my hands.

I tilt my head to the side, blinking up at him. “What’s so funny?

“Nothing.” he shakes his head, chuckling softly. “I’m not laughing. I’m smiling.”

“What are you smiling about?”

Eddie leans forward and my heart beat picks up speed because I think he’s going to kiss me, but instead his lips graze my ear.

“Just happy to see you,” he murmurs. “…and your sweater.”

“Eddie!” I exclaim wiggling out of his hold, walking back inside my house. I am never wearing this sweater again.

“What? I love it.” Eddie laughs, closing the door behind him. “What are you baking?”

“I’m baking peanut butter blossoms for Dustin and Miss Henderson.” I answer returning back to the counter. “I was about to put them in the oven before you rang.”

Eddie hangs his coat neatly on the coat rack in the mudroom and pads through the foyer in his socks. A smile tugs on my lips at his ease around the house. Dad’s military training and Mom’s propriety kicked Eddie into a straight line early in our relationship.

“Have you been baking all day?”

“Yes. I started with chocolate chip cookies which are on the cooling rack. I finished the peanut butter blossom cookies and once they are in the oven, I am going to start making white chocolate and cranberry cookies.”

I take the pan of dough and put them in the oven, setting the timer to 10 minutes. I turn around to find Eddie sitting on the stool in front of the counter observing the organized mess of ingredients. I place the timer on the counter.

“Where is everyone?” Eddie asks, looking around.

“Mom and Dad are out shopping for more Christmas lights. Erica is in her room and Lucas is at Mike’s house probably playing Dungeons and Dragons with the rest of the boys, El and Max.”

“And he didn’t invite me,” Eddie says, holding his heart.

“He didn’t know you were coming,” I say shooting him a playful glare.

I clean off the counter to have a fresh surface for the white chocolate and cranberry cookies. From the corner of my eyes, I see Eddie reach towards the direction of the cooling rack. I whip my head around catching him in action.

“Hey!” I scold, running around the counter. “No touching! Those are for Miss Byers.” I block his access before he can touch the cookies. “And you didn’t wash your hands!”

Eddie smiles, dimples deepening on his cheeks. He looks so cute I have to resist the urge to kiss each dimple and put on my best disapproval face.

“My hands are clean, I promise,” he replies, reaching over my barrier.

I smack his hand the way my mom does when she catches Dad trying to steal a cookie from the cookie jar before dinner.

“Eddie!” I reprimand. His eyes widen, baffled by my seriousness.

“I swear,” Eddie assures me, eyes twinkling with amusement. “You baked so many. I’m sure Miss Byers won’t realize one is gone.”

I look at him for a few seconds and slowly remove my hand.

“Okay, fine,” I admit. “But you can only have one.”

Eddie’s smile turns to a smirk. “How about two?” He quickly picks up two shovelling one in his mouth.

“Eddie!”

His loud, boisterous laugh is muffled by the cookie in his mouth. In seeing the look on my face his laughter dies down to a light chuckle.

“They’re so small. One wouldn’t be enough,” he reasons, licking the oozing chocolate off his fingers.

I cross my arms above my chest, walking back to the counter. I wasn’t really upset with him. I did make a lot of chocolate chip cookies for the Byers Family. I just took baking very seriously.

“Aw, sweetheart,” he coos, walking towards me.

I feel his arms wrap around my waist and his chin on my head. I imagine how hunched over he must be because of our height difference. He nudges by head to the side, kissing my temple. A small smile forms on my lips at the gesture. Eddie was so loving and caring. It was one of the many things I loved about him.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “…but they taste so good.”

I look up at him and roll my eyes playfully. The rumble of his laugh makes me giggle.

“I’m serious,” he says shovelling the last cookie in his mouth. “These are the best cookies ever!”

I scrunch my nose looking down. “Thank you,” I murmur.

Eddie kisses the top of my head. “You’re welcome, cutie.”

Eddie sits on the other side of the counter watching me set up. He told me about his day and the errands he had to run for Wayne. I listen nodding my head and asking questions as I multitasked. Eddie has been over many times since we started dating, my house being a second home to him. But he’s never watched me bake before. I feel like we unlocked a new level in our relationship. Domesticity.

“What kind of cookies are you making again?”

“White chocolate and cranberry.”

“Who are these for?”

“Me. They’re my favourite kind for the holiday season.”

“I can’t believe I’ve never asked you this question before, but what’s your favourite kind of cookie?”

“White chocolate and macadamia nut cookies,” I replied. “What’s yours?”

“Chocolate chip,” he responds, grinning. I roll my eyes fighting back a smile.

“Eddie, can you check the timer and let me know how many minutes are left?”

“Aye, aye, captain,” he salutes, squinting at the timer, “Six minutes left.”

“Thank you,” I answer scooping brown sugar into the measuring cup.

“How do you know how much to put without looking at the recipe?”

I shrug my shoulders. “I’ve made these cookies so many times it all comes naturally to me.”

I start to pat down the brown sugar, levelling it with a spoon. Eddie leans forward on his elbows watching me work. In getting to know Eddie I notice he doesn’t like to sit still for too long. Always looking for something new to do. There were few things Eddie could sit down and pay attention to for long periods of time. I mentally compiled a list: Planning Dungeons and Dragons Campaigns, reading fantasy books, Corroded Coffin band practices and gigs, eating, cooking (a pleasant surprise), and now, watching me bake.

“Do you want to help me?”

Eddie scratches the back of his neck, shaking his head. “I don’t think you want me to help you. I’ll ruin it.”

“No, you won’t. I’ll help you!”

“Okay.”

I squeal excitedly. “Let me get you an apron. In the meantime, wash your hands,” I say giving him a warning look.

Eddie laughs. “Alright, Alright.”

I go to the pantry where we kept all the kitchen stuff. On a rack at the corner of the small room I find all the aprons. Most of them had stains on them, the cleanest one was Erica’s old apron. It was blue with polka dots on it. I smile taking it off the rack. This would barely fit Eddie but I think he would look adorable in it.

“I could only find Erica’s old apron,” I call out walking into the kitchen. “I hope it’s okay.”

Eddie looks over his shoulder throwing a rumpled paper towel into the trash can. He throws his head back shaking with laughter.

“Is this payback?”

“No, the others were dirty, I have to wash them. Erica’s old apron was the cleanest out of the bunch.”

“This is hilarious,” he chuckles, taking it out of my hands. “I don’t think it’s gonna fit though.”

“You have such a tiny waist. I’m sure it will.”

I giggle at the pink tinge on Eddie’s cheeks, walking behind him to tie the apron around his waist. Eddie was a little self-conscious about his waist, often commenting on how he needs to go to the gym to bulk up. I always reassure him that I love his body the way it is and he doesn’t need to change a thing. Eddie ties the string around his neck first, hoisting the fabric high on his chest. The waist string moved up to his stomach. I pull on the string tying it around his stomach instead. Peering over I look at him, snickering quietly. Eddie looks like an overgrown pre-schooler. I have to take a photo.

“Don’t move. I’m going to get the camera!”

“Diana.” Eddie groans. He always acts like he hates when I take photos, but I know secretly loves them. Eddie is just like Erica in that sense. Lucas and I love taking photos. Erica complains but always asks to take another one just in case the first one isn’t good.

“These are memories, Eddie!” I say, grabbing the camera on the kitchen counter by the refrigerator.

“Uh, uh,” he refuses crossing his arms.

“No, don’t hide from me. Ever.” I uncross his arms.

Eddie rolls his eyes and I kiss his knuckles taking a step back.

“Now say cheese!”

Eddie smiles wide, dimples making an appearance.

“Aw, you look so cute like that!” I squeal, looking through the viewfinder. I snap the picture, waiting for the photo to develop. “Can I take another photo?”

Eddie grabs a whisk holding it in his hands like Julia Child. I take another picture laughing at his antics.

“Your turn,” he spoke, reaching for the camera.

He takes it out of my hands peeking through the viewfinder. I close my eyes sticking my tongue out just as the light flashed out the camera.

“One more. Smile and point at your sweater,” he smirks.

I gawk at him just as the camera flashes. Eddie cackles behind the camera pulling the photo out of the slot.

“Eddie!” I shout, running to him.

I try my best to grab the photo out of his hands but he was long and lithe for my short stature. Eddie’s laugh echoes through the kitchen as he squirms out of my reach.

“Look at your face!”

“I’m trying to!”

Eddie hides the photo behind his back. “If I show you this photo, do you promise not to throw it out?”

“Yes, I promise.”

Eddie arches his brow skeptically.

“I promise,” I assure, holding my hand up like a girl scout taking a pledge.

“Okay.”

Eddie shows me the photo in his hand not letting go when I try to pull it out of his grasp. I huff looking at the picture. I look as shocked as I felt in the moment. You can tell I was looking at him over the camera. I didn’t look as bad as I thought.

“See? You look so cute.”

“C’mon,” I say handing him the rest of the photos. “You have work to do.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He sets the camera and photos on the farthest edge of the counter before joining me. I smile feeling his lips on my temple. Another thing I noticed about Eddie, he can’t go five minutes without touching me in some way. Whether it’s holding my hand, playing with my hair, touching my cheek, standing beside me, or my personal favourite, kissing me. Eddie bends forward resting his elbows on the counter. He gazes at me with warm affection, waiting patiently for instructions. I take a deep breath trying to rid the pink fog in my head. Over a year later and I’m still not used to the way Eddie looks at me.

“O-okay,” I stutter, breathlessly. The corners of Eddie’s lips twitch but he doesn’t say anything thankfully; “we’re gonna start with the butter and white sugar first. I already finished measuring the brown sugar. Now you’re going to measure ½ cup of butter and ¼ cup of white sugar. When you’re done, put them all in this big bowl, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am. Can I use the same measuring cup for both?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

I watch Eddie pour the brown sugar in the large glass bowl; He then proceeds to measure ¼ cup of white sugar and add it to the bowl. I hold back my smile as he hesitates with the butter, a line appearing between his brows as he thinks about what to do next. Eddie makes the cutest faces when he is concentrating. I adore the way he frowns, the way his eyes narrow at the task at hand, when his tongue pokes out between his lips. I busy myself with the eggs so it doesn’t feel like I’m hovering. From the corner of my eye, Eddie scoops the butter with a spoon knocking it against the measuring cup. He does this until half the measuring cup is full.

“Sweetheart? How do you make brown sugar?” he asks, making sure there was half a cup of butter in the measuring cup.

“By mixing molasses and white sugar together. If you want to make the brown sugar darker, just add more molasses.”

“Hmm,” he muses, scooping the softened butter into the mixing bowl. “Okay, I’m done. What’s next?”

“Now this part is very important, Eddie,” I voice, handing him the electric mixer. “You are going to use this to beat the ingredients together until they are creamy and smooth.”

“Creamy and smooth. Gotcha.”

I leave Eddie to mix just as the timer set went off. Quickly shoving on the oven mittens, I open the oven pulling the steaming hot cookies out. The smell of warm peanut butter and sugar floats around the kitchen mixing in with the scent of chocolate. I set the tray on the top the stove and take off my mittens before taking the small bowl full of Hershey kisses on the counter. I begin to carefully place one kiss in the centre of the cookie having already unwrapped each chocolate prior.

“Baby, is this creamy and smooth enough?”

I walk over to him peering into the bowl. “It looks great, Eddie,” I respond with a smile. “I’m going to add egg and vanilla quickly and then you can continue to mix. Use this,” I hand him a spatula, “to scrape the sides of the bowl.”

After I add the egg and vanilla, Eddie mixes the ingredients as I work on the flour. We work in comfortable silence and I feel happy and light thinking about all the pastries Eddie can help me make. He was already a great cook; baking was natural to him although he didn’t know it yet.

“Baby, can you check this again?” I peer from my spot.

“It’s perfect. Change the speed to low. I’m gonna add flour.”

“Is it only flour?”

“I put cornstarch, salt and baking soda.”

“Hmm,” he hums.

“Keep mixing. We want soft and thick.”

“Soft and thick,” Eddie nods. “Coming right up.”

Eddie mixes the dough together and smile at him.

“You’re a natural, Eddie.”

Eddie blushes, turning off the mixer. “I have a good teacher.”

I scrunch my nose, adding white chocolate and cranberries into the bowl and set it aside too distracted to continue.

“You’re so cute when you blush.”

“How do you know I’m blushing?”

“You scrunch your nose and look down,” he answers, mimicking me.

You could fry an egg on my face the way it felt so hot.

“I do that when I’m embarrassed,” I point out.

“But you add a giggle like,” he imitates my giggle.

I hit him softly fighting back a smile. Eddie was right about everything. He knows me so well, better than I probably know myself.

“You’re such an egg head,” I comment.

Eddie leans close. I can smell the chocolate chip cookies on his breath.

“I’m not,” he replies, shaking his head.

I open my mouth but couldn’t find the words to say. The corners of Eddie’s lips turn up to the familiar confident smirk he wears when he knows I’m flustered. I can’t give him the satisfaction. Not this time. I turn my head peering at the open carton of eggs on the counter. I pick up an egg, biting my lip to conceal my laugh and quickly jump up breaking it over his head. Thick, sticky globs of egg yolk and tiny egg shells slide down his dark brown curls, seeping through the strands. Eddie opens his eyes as I wipe what was left on my hands on his white t-shirt, smearing the dark yellow residue against the cotton fabric.

“Smooth,” Eddie mumbles, nodding his head.

My body shakes with silent laughter. Eddie reaches over to the pile of leftover flour on the counter, flicking it onto my face before I could turn around and dodge the attack. I gasp, eyes widening in disbelief, yet I am unable to contain my growing laughter. I flick flour on him as well challenging him. Eddie scoops a handful with both hands and drops it all on top my head.

“Eddie!” I scream.

I grab whatever I could find on the counter throwing it on him. Salt, sugar, flour, baking soda, brown sugar. Eddie wraps his arms around my body to hold me still, smearing what smelled like egg yolk all over my face.

“Who’s the egg head now?” Eddie shouts. My scream turns into loud cackling.

“It’s—It’s still—you!” I shout back through uncontrollable laughter.

I try to escape from his hold but Eddie’s much too strong easily overpowering me. He spins me around laughing at my face. I must have looked as crazy as him. Flour and egg yolk with sprinkles of brown sugar on my face and in my hair. Eddie picks me up placing me on the counter, both our laughter dying down to hushed giggles. He brushes my hair out of my face gazing at me. I scrunch my nose, bumping mine softly against his before looking down.

“That’s a new one. What does that mean?”

“I don’t know,” I shrug looking back at him. “You tell me.”

Eddie grins scrunching his nose, bumping it softly against mine.

“It means,” he pauses, thinking. His eyes convey vulnerability that I only saw when he was with me. “I love you.”

The butterflies in my stomach flutter around uncontrollably. It’s been one week since Eddie and I confessed our love for each other and we’ve said it to each other every day since. Each time either of us said it, which was plenty, my heart skipped a beat.

“And this,” he rubs his nose against mine making me giggle and hold his face still. “Means, I love you too.”

“In that case,” I scrunch my nose again, bumping it against his.

Eddie rubs his nose against mine before closing the distance between us. His lips are soft and powdery. My heart feels like a jack hammer in my chest adrenaline coursing through my veins. Ever since the Snow Ball, I craved the feeling of his body close to mine in the most intimate of ways. I open my mouth deepening the kiss wrapping my arms around his neck pulling him closer.

“Um?”

I flinch startled by Erica’s voice, quickly grabbing onto Eddie’s shoulders to jump off the counter. The remaining flour, sugar, and baking soda fell onto the floor onto Eddie’s socks.

“H-hey monster,” I stutter, putting my hands behind my back.

Eddie snickers from behind me and I elbow him softly in the gut. My face feels like it’s on fire and I hope Erica didn’t see anything. She was my little sister after all. Based on the bewildered expression on her face, she was more concerned about the mess in the kitchen than the fact Eddie and I were making out.

“What are you guys doing?”

Eddie and I look at each other grinning like Cheshire cats from ear to ear.

“We’re baking,” I say, cheerfully.

Erica arches her brow eying our appearance. “I can see that,” she said, observing the state of the kitchen. “You better clean up before Mom and Dad get back.”

“Yes, Erica,” I sigh. Sometimes it felt like she was the older sister.

“Do you wanna help—” Eddie began.

“Nope,” Erica cuts him off swiftly, taking a peanut butter blossom from the cooling rack on the adjacent counter.

“Erica! Those are for Dustin and Miss Henderson!”

“I’m just testing the product,” she explains, with her mouth full breathing heavily. The cookies were still hot. “Hmm, too much flour.”

I gasp rushing beside her to inspect the blossoms. There couldn’t be too much flour. I know the recipe like the back of my hand and always put just the right amount of flour.

“That’s impossible!” I exclaim snatching the piece of cookie in her hand to check the consistency.

“She’s only joking, babe,” Eddie chuckles. I frown at Erica who was laughing hysterically at me.

“That’s not funny Erica!”

Erica takes the rest of the cookie out of my hand with a mischievous smile. I gently push her out of the kitchen so she doesn’t add to the mess. I turn to Eddie with a sigh looking at the mess we made in the kitchen. We really needed to clean it up before my parents got home.

“I’m going to mix the rest of the cookie dough together. In the meantime, you can clear the counter and then we can tackle the rest together before my parents come home.”

Eddie grabs the polaroid camera on his way to me. I catch a whiff of the raw eggs and flour on him and laugh scrunching my nose faking disgust.

“You smell like egg!”

Eddie tilts my chin up with his finger. “Well, who’s fault is that?”

I grin reaching up on the tips of my toes to close the distance between us. The kiss was intended to be chaste but the feeling of Eddie’s arm snaking around my waist pulling me against him won’t allow it. I try to pull away but that only makes him tighten his hold on me. I giggle against his lips holding his cheeks, our noses press together. A flash of light and the shutter snapping sounded in the background. Eddie pulls away taking the photo out of the camera.

“This is amazing!”

“We look insane!”

“We look like…” his eyes crinkle despite the softness in his smile. “…We’re in love.”

I smile, even with tears running down my cheeks. I go up on the tips of my toes scrunching my nose bumping it against his. Eddie smiles rubbing his nose against mine, closing the distance between us. In love we were.

#stranger things rewrite #dianasinclair #black fem reader #stranger things #holiday fic #christmas fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x sinclair!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader

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captain-n-crunchies · 7 months ago

Text

My Baby Boo

Yan! Ghost x Black Hoochie mam Reader

( Inspo for makeup and how I beileve she'll kinda look but it just inspo)

Moving from Memphis to the quite little city of Nothern Montana was a pretty start, from my own mama judging my dreams of being a biochemical engineer to my daddy being my only hero against my mama wrath of " All you going to be is pregnant and 23 Y/n! Just get a regular job a nurse or fast-food worker and quit this science shit!" My mama wanted to be a doctor since she was a kid, till she fooled around with my daddy and fucked it up! Now I gotta be the one to get all her anger! I mean if you told 15-year-old me I'd have a Master's degree of Biochemistry with a paid internship!? AND I moved to across the states to achieve my dream only at 25? I wouldn't believe you.

I've being living in the quite neighborhood for a good 3 months before all this shit happened let's go from the day I moved in.

*Flashback*

" Alrighty ma'am you all set, need anything?"

" Nah I'm but, thank you for helping me mister?

" Fred, sugar just calls me Fred"

" Well thank you Fred... You can gon on now"

I guess he was taken backed he just walked away no bye or nothing! His rude ass. Walking into my house I begin to stay unpacking, my bed was a little late gettin here buttt I got my living room and kitchen down so far when I heard a thud

*THUD*

" Now what the-"

*THUD THUD*

" Oh hell nah, MISTER FRED!"

I jog out the house to see Fred sitting on his rocking chair, I asked him about the house and hearing hard ass thuds and his old ass tells me it probably the squirrels scratching.

" Why you ain't tell me that when buying the house?

" Because it wasn't important then! Look the squirrels like peanut butter bye some and put it out to lead them out na"

I just look at him and I turn, and I thought I saw eyes peeking at me, but I just shake it off, and I ask him just to check it out. He heads to his garage for a ladder and trails me to my house only looking at my ass though, fuckin pervert.

" Hey! Go up there and see about the squirrels!"

" Huh- Ok ok I'm goin I'm goin...reminds me of Hellen.."

He climbs up the ladder and knocks on the wood

" Hm, Hey there girlie there ain't no holes for no squirrels up here

" What you mean? I heard a thud twice by now they probably in the house"

" No siree they aint nowhere without a way to get out, you just heard the house settle I'm guessin"

That wasn't no house settling, a house settling is like a creak not a loud ass thud like I dropped something! I see Fred old ass walk back into his house and I just go inside checking every but of the house, strange enough I set my phone down on the counter and it missing? I found it in the living room but I haven't been in there yet?

She's gorgeous... she a doll even! Pretty skin, her teeth glimmers with jewels and that voice so silky yet firm, she looks like Meleesa... my dear! My darling has come back to reach me from the heavens! Has God forsaken my body to never touch her again? To see her walk around for other to touch the skin of deity for everyone to be able to talk to her without a worry she runs and screams from me? I'll make her minds for she was my golden egg, my baby... I hope she still yearns for me in my state.

It's been a hot minute since I heard something and I finally have my place set, it a tiny bedroom but my vanity and bed fills it perfectly! It's about 9 something and I'm watching some movie on Netflix when I feel a chill, getting up to turn my heat on a see a note on my counter

" My baby, has been a long time since I see that smile of your, heard the soften voice, and smelled your devious scent. I see how you look very different from our last meeting, you've filled up quite nicely; later in the night I will watch you again, I will smell your scent and keep wanting to touch you like I once did. Til I met you again- Your Boo"

What type of mostly ghostly bullshit is going on! I look around and feel another chill as I turn on the heat and turn all all the light, fuck my bill I'll be cool! Running into my room I lock my door and turn on all my light and even the tv, I sit in my bed in my shorts and cami and I ask my friend if she can call, I don't know why I keep her around but she answer and I tell her everything including how Fred didnt tell me about the house.

" Girl I told you don't move nowhere that didn't have niggas til the 1700s!'

" Thats not important! What is that I got some Micheal Myers nigga trying get me!"

" Did it say who it was from?"

" No, it was signed My boo, ian have my boyfriend since FAMU"

" He funny at least"

" Now what so funny about me getting stalked?"

" He signed it my boo, and he's a ghost if you didn't see nobody and what ghost say? Boo! He funny!"

I stare at my phone, and I hang up NOT in the mood. I turn on some music and I just distract myself fixing my hair, painting my toes, anything when I heard water running in my bathroom, walking in there I see the mirror fogs with a message, ' She's quite clever dearest, maybe you should listen to your friends' words- Your Boo'

" Ok...OK I GET IT!" I yell getting anxious that some freaky ass ghost is calling me his dearest! MY DADDY DONT EVEN DO THAT MUCH! With this ghost here I run other the bathroom and lock the door to my room, taking the key and I just run to my car. I unlock my car and drove to the nearest hotel and just crash there for a few days, maybe ghost die if it no one to haunt right? As I drive, I heard a chime on my phone, then another, then a flood of chimes and I stop to check; all the messages from the same number talking about how I can't run, I have no one in this city, I have to come home soon, and he'll be waiting...all signed my boo. I turn off my phone and finds a hotel and pays for two nights, only in my night clothes I sleep for the night, and I prayed I still had some clothes in my car, luckily I had a few clothes and some body care, after a quick shower I head to bed with the lights on and my mind full.

How dare she! Has she no care what she leaves with! I show her care I fix the house; I chased Fred away with my bare hands all for her and THIS is my payment! My dearest must forget her punishments were all but nice with me. But I can't hurt her... no not ever again will I drain the life from her body, never again will I force her gaze upon my bloodshed, no... no will I force my hand to bruise a deity's skin. She cursed me that til I let her go I will never pass... I won't let her go, even if she takes her life, I will bring her back, I make her into me! A lost soul wandering this planet, YES! if I make her agree with my love at the next moon I can... NO! Have I lost my mind! Her skin will fade, her bones will break, her voice will turn to whispers... it's not worth it I WONT EVER AGAIN! It happened once and I failed her but it another chance... I will get her back.

Back in this spooky ass house again. It's been a few days week even and I tried to get Fred to check it out but all he does is ignore me, in my room set up camera around the house and hook it too my computer so that I can catch this creep, it was late today 12:45 am it was thundering today, in my room I scroll on my phone with the tv on some movie, I felt a chill... the same chill. I get get up and back to my door looking around

" OK DAMMIT! SHOW YOUR DAMN SELF OR I'LL BREAK MY FOOT UP YA-"

" So violent my love~"

I look around til a feather of a hand touches my cheek, jerking away I turn too see a pale man... see through even with a evil smile and a a stature shaped from God

" Oh my..."

"Hello, my dearest, I hope your aren't too mad at me for our last encounter"

" Who are-"

" As your friend said, your boo~"

It seems you've pasted out, never the matter it will be best your out for the evening. So much to do with a the body you claimed now Melessa... Hello my beautiful baby~

A.N: ( Ouuu not me making a creepy character , i know yall thought I couldn't do huh! I just be writing too yall, I mean I started this at 6 sum and it's 10... like I said Im Shakesphere! But hope yall like this and it more to come from our ghost companion! LOve y'all! MWAHH)

#x black reader #black reader #ghost #phantom x reader #hoochie mama #x chubby reader

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livwritesstuff · 1 year ago

Note

Can I live in your brain?

Can you directly inject your steddie dads stories into MY brain?

Can you just... help a girl out? With that? Somehow? Lol I cannot consume them fast enough.

I love them so much. Thank you (and I'm not sorry for the spam likes - you deserve them)!

dear god i wish you could bc i literally cannot stop thinking about this 'verse and then at least i'd have some company in the madness

anyways thank youu <3

have a double post on this fine friday

so anyways 2008-2011 are what Steve and Eddie refer back to as the war zone. Why do they call these years the war zone? Because it's the brief stretch of time where they have three fully autonomous children (i.e. not babies) all under the age of 10.

It is total pandemonium. Neither Steve nor Eddie get a full breath of air until the day Moe turns 11. Naturally, it is also a period in their lives where Steve and Eddie don't get to spend as much time together as they would like, because they're a little busy wrangling little girls.

Thus, to make sure they get at least some semblance of face time during the week, they call Friday nights (after the girls are asleep and while Steve and Eddie are getting ready for bed) their Friday Roundup.

The purpose of Friday Roundup is to recount the insanity they each had to endure that week and confirm that they aren't living in an actual fever dream.

"You missed us celebrating opposite day," Eddie tells Steve one night as he's midway through brushing his teeth, "I had to tell them they couldn't flip all the furniture over and it was like I told them Christmas was cancelled."

"Moe got mad at me because we had expired orange juice in the fridge and I wouldn't let her use it to fill water balloons," Steve replies.

"Well, that's just common sense."

"Not to Moe. I think her words were we shouldn't let it go to waste."

"Dear god, she's getting too smart for us," Eddie shakes his head, "Hazel cried the entire way home from dropping Robbie and Moe off at school because the sun was following us."

"She got mad at me the other day when I made her a peanut butter sandwich," Steve replies, and he holds a hand up when Eddie raises a questioning eyebrow, "Wait - because what she wanted was a peanut butter and jelly sandwich...without the jelly."

"Jesus Christ."

#friday roundup persists into the girls' teenage years #because they don't stop saying insane shit -- just *different* insane shit #y'all pls keep sending me asks they kill me every time #liv’s steddie dads verse #steddie #steddie dads #steve harrington #eddie munson

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willyoubemycherryy · 9 months ago

Text

❣︎𝙹𝚘𝚑𝚗 𝚡 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕𝚢𝚙𝚘𝚙 ᴍᴏᴅᴇʀɴ ᴀᴜ!

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: 𝚘𝚏𝚏-𝚔𝚎𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚌𝚊𝚛 𝚔𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚘𝚔𝚎😭, 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚌 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚜 ’𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎’, 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜, 𝚙𝚍𝚊, 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚃𝙾𝙼-𝚂𝙷𝙴𝙽𝙰𝙽𝙸𝙶𝙰𝙽𝙴𝚁𝚈, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚗 𝚅 𝚋𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢😂💕

“𝑲𝒆𝒆𝒑 𝒐𝒏 𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒊𝒏’ 𝒄𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒃𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒄𝒆𝒂𝒏...’’

࣪𖤐๋࣭ ໒꒱✧. • 𐙚˙⋆.˚. .

If someone told you that you’d be stuck in traffic with 6 of the most adoringly irritating men you’ve ever met, fiancé included, you would punch them in the fucking chest for jinxing you like that.

Because that’s exactly the type of circus you currently found yourself in.

“Let’s go, let’s go, let’s goooo!”

“Bucky, turn it up!”

“No but like the way this song still EATS to THIS DAY?!!!”

“YEEAAAAHHH!”

Rolling your eyes behind the steering wheel at what apparently was your group of middle-school girls, you take a deep breath at what was about to occur.

“I THREW A WISH IN THE WELL-“

Ah yes.

The beautiful vocals of John Egan. Off tune as ever as he shouts the words, the others getting so rowdy that their bouncing shakes the car while they grin and dap each other up.

“DON’T ASK ME, I’LL NEVER TELL!” Curt scream-sings louder than John, moving a piece of imaginary long hair behind his ear before looking up to the side, batting his eyes dramatically. It’s all so completely ridiculous that before you can help it, you’re laughing and smiling with them. You know to other cars, you all probably look crazy as fuck but stranger things honestly.

They bounce line after line at each other, playing it up to absurd proportions by running their hands through their hair, fanning themselves like Victorian ladies seeing forearms for the first time, shaking each other, and firing off every over the top ‘come hither’ stare known to man.

At this point even you can’t help but to bop your head because the song really was catchy as hell.

“BUCK GO!”

“YEAH this is you!”

Oh dear god.

Now in his defense, Gale at least had the decency to look slightly embarrassed, given that he was the only one who hadn’t gone and joined in yet but now the pressure was on with Bucky, Curtis, Rosie, Bubbles, and Douglass all looking at him. Practically daring him to ruin the mood.

“…”

“If you don’t-!”

“BEFORE YOU CAME INTO MY LIFE I MISSED YOU SO BAD!”

The hoops and hollers get so loud that you have to roll the windows down. Gale gives in and sings with them and not surprisingly at all, his voice is hot and beautiful not bad compared to the others.

But as good a mood you may be in, you refuse to entertain their foolishness too much or else it’ll go on forever and after being held in traffic hostage for almost an hour and a half, that’s something you just can’t risk. Luckily you don’t have to because the song ends a minute and change later with them all yelling “so call me maybe!!” out the windows, all crowding each other as they try to get their heads through like a bouquet of golden retrievers.

Bucky leans over to press a sloppy kiss on your cheek, making the skin heat up under his sudden undivided attention.

“Babydoll cmon, why don’t you sing with us?” He asks, tapping the underside of your chin.

“Because~ no♡︎. I don’t think I’d sound too great.” which is a complete lie, you sound just fine but you don’t feel like it right now. More than wanting to sing, you want to get back and eat a turkey sandwich (sorry vegans).

However, your fiancé being who he is, can’t help but voice his opinion on your voice…in the most mortifying way possible.

“Well I think you sound better than great when I’ve got you singing underneath me.”

The collective gasps from the Peanut Gallery in your backseat makes the heat rushing up the back of your neck almost unbearable as you snap your head sideways to look Bucky in his face, eyes wide in shock because oh no he didn’t.

“I beg your utmost pardon?!” Screeching as your hand flies to your chest, jaw dropped. He laughs, shrugging like he didn’t just end your honor.

“What?? I’ve said worse to you!” The “ooh’s” from the backseat egg you on as you two start to argue.

“Immediately no, because be so for real! My pearls are clutched to the finest degreeee right now like what is wrong with you?!”

“Babe what! What’d I say?!”

“Dude you DO NOT say shit like that in front of company!”

“We’re not in the house though!”

“The rule still applies! Do I talk about your d-“, while in the middle of your back and forth, Gale interrupts.

“I feel like this would be less…whatever is happening, with some background noise. Could you turn the radio back on, hon? And if it helps, we didn’t hear anything.”

He’s so sweet, truly. Smacking Curtis on the back of the head when he looks like he’s about to disagree with what he knows he definitely did hear, he smiles at you. So, turning to shoot one last irritated look at John, you turn the radio on.

The intro of an almost electro-80’s pop song fill the car and almost immediately the excitement starts again but Gale’s reaction catches you completely off guard, mouth dropping open as he sings,

“My silhouette is in the frame of your shades again~…”

Hillside boys??!!!!

#callum turner #callum turner x reader #masters of the air #mota #fluff #x reader #john egan x reader #john bucky egan #john egan #callum turner fluff #austin butler #major gale cleven #gale cleven #buck cleven #gale buck cleven #john bucky egan x reader

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heyiwrotesomethings · 2 years ago

Text

She’s The Housekeeper Prt9: Bond

Yor Briar/ Forger x She/ Her Reader

A/N: Prt8 Alright, here is the last part for the foreseeable future. The first chapter of this story is still my most popular post to date, and it’s so cool to see 800+ notes on something I’ve written. If you managed to stick with me for this long, thank you for your time and support💜! Word Count: ~5,800

Anya ate her breakfast with an extra vigor that morning because today would be the day Loid would take her to the pet shop to find a cute little dog to take home! She inhaled her food so fast, she nearly choked.

“Hey, careful!” (Y/n) cautioned as she pushed Anya’s glass of water closer to her for the little girl to gulp down, “I know you’re excited, but let’s try to avoid having to go to the hospital instead.”

“The dogs aren’t going anywhere anytime soon. You can take your time.” Loid reminded.

“I’m just as excited to look around as you are Miss Anya!” Yor beamed as she put down the burnt omurice she had made, “but please do be careful.”

Anya downed the water and though she was still eating rather quickly, she was pacing herself better than she had a few moments ago.

“Anya is ready to go now!” She declared, sliding off of her chair to fetch her coat.

“Anya, we’re still eating.” Loid called after her, but Anya kept moving, pulling her coat from the rack. Loid sat back in his chair, letting Anya wait by the door. “Are you joining us, (Y/n)? It shouldn’t take terribly long.”

“I wouldn’t mind tagging along.” (Y/n) decided. Maybe she could influence the decision made of what dog they got. Something that was already house trained would be ideal. One that rarely shedded would also be preferable.

“This is going to be so much fun.” Yor hummed, between bite of crispy rice and egg. She offered (Y/n) a bite, and of course (Y/n) had to take it.

“Definitely an improvement over the last one, well done my dear.” (Y/n) praised before downing her water in just a few gulps.

The food really was one of Yor’s better attempts. It was still vile, but (Y/n) didn’t feel like she was in danger of throwing up. (Y/n) wasn’t absolutely insane like Yor’s dear brother Yuri, if Yor’s food made her feel ill, she would simply excuse herself to the bathroom to take care of it, not smile and try to clear the plate faster than she could vomit. (Y/n) shuddered at the memory. The Briar siblings were not normal.

“Woof! Woof! Woof!” Anya chanted from the hallway. She simply couldn’t wait any longer, they were wasting precious daylight!

“Let us do the dishes at least, then we will go, Anya. Be patient.” Loid began gathering plates while (Y/n) and Yor went to the sink to wash and dry.

Anya felt like she could explode from the anticipation, but finally all three adults had put away the dishes and put on their coats and they were heading out the door.

“Woof! Woof! Woof!” She barked again, swinging Yor’s hand in hers. “Papa,” she asked, turning back to look at Loid, “Do doggies like peanuts?”

“You probably shouldn’t give them too many. It might not be good for them.” He replied, making Anya pout.

“That leaves more peanuts for you, Miss Anya.” (Y/n) provided helpfully, making her smile again.

“Oh, is this the shop right there?” Yor asked.

“That’s it.” Loid confirmed, going ahead of them to open the door for everyone.

Inside were the most fucked up looking dogs that (Y/n) had ever seen. Anya looked severely unsettled and (Y/n) couldn’t say she blamed her.

“Is… is that one flexing?” She asked Yor in a concerned whisper.

“What do you think, Anya?” Loid smiled, “Do you like any of these dogs?”

“No.” Anya wasted no time saying.

“R-really?” Loid’s eye twitched.

“Are you really surprised, Loid? I mean, look at them.” (Y/n) shuddered.

She did have a point… Guess they would have to go to the shelter event instead. A person caught his eye from the back room, flashing him a signal. Now really wasn’t a good time, but if Handler was calling, it must be important.

“Augh!” Loid cried out, clutching his stomach.

“Loid? What’s wrong?” (Y/n) asked, startled by the outburst.

“I, I need to use the restroom! You all can go, I’ll meet you at the shelter.”

“Are you sure you’re alright? We can wait.” Yor offered.

“Papa takes a long time when he goes to the shitter to shit, so we should probably go.” Anya bluntly explained.

“I see…” Yor blushed.

“Eugh, Miss Anya, we didn’t need to know that.” (Y/n) shivered in disgust, “Also, watch your language.”

“Yes, watch your mouth young lady.” Loid echoed before running off to deal with his… ‘problem’.

“Well, guess we should get going then.” (Y/n) decided.

“Yes!” Anya skipped to the door with (Y/n) and Yor following close behind.

Before long, the sidewalks became more congested and the unmistakable sounds of animals flooded the air.

“So this is the adoption event. Wow, it’s even bigger than I imagined!” Yor gushed.

“Yeah, it seems like Loid should’ve brought us here first.” (Y/n) observed.

Puppies, kittens and bunnies! They seemed to have every furry household pet under the sun! Anya ran haphazardly to look into every crate and enclosure she could find.

“Don’t run around Miss Anya, you’ll get lost!” Yor warned.

“Promise us you won’t leave this area with the dogs, okay?” (Y/n) asked.

“Okay…” Anya deflated a bit, but that was fine, there were so many cute doggies to look at and she would get to take one of them home!

The trio walked up to an enclosure together and Yor squeaked with excitement, grabbing (Y/n) by the arm and shaking her around.

“Look at that dachshund’s cute little legs!” She cooed, making (Y/n) smile.

Anya was overwhelmed by all the cuteness. She couldn’t possibly choose just one. They were all so sweet! Standing by the window, something large and white caught her eye, and she turned to see it more clearly, feeling a possible connection with whatever that may be.

(Y/n) and Yor were going over their top picks when one of the ladies working the event approached them offering assistance. (Y/n) and Yor took up the conversation, distracting them from Anya’s sudden disappearance.

“Are there any breeds that are easier to clean up after?” (Y/n) asked.

“Poodles rarely shed, so cleaning up after them is a breeze.” The friendly lady shared.

“You don’t say.” (Y/n) perked up, making Yor smile.

“Or there are smaller breeds, Shih Tzus are very friendly.”

While (Y/n) and Yor were engrossed with the woman’s abundant information, they failed to notice Anya slink outside to follow the shady man and the big white dog she had seen through the window. By the time they had stopped talking with the woman and thanked her for her suggestions, Anya appeared to be long gone. (Y/n) looked up to find her in the crowd, but could not see her anywhere within the dog section and her heart began to rise to her throat.

“Yor,” (Y/n) alerted, grabbing her partner’s arm, anxiety already slipping into her tone, “Do you know where Anya is?”

Yor snapped to attention, scanning all around, a familiar sense of dread pooling in her stomach. She did not like the trend that seemed to be forming every time she let Anya out of her sight or reach for but a few minutes every time they went out in public.

“I- I don’t—“ Yor swallowed thickly, her feet traveled on autopilot, “Miss Anya? Where did you go?!” She called out, a static buzzing growing steadily between her ears.

“I’ll look for her in the kitten section!” (Y/n) yelled after her before running off in a different direction, but she was not heard.

Between the two of them, they must have asked everyone in the event hall if they had seen the little girl, each growing more and more desperate with every shake of a head they received.

Upon getting her latest negative sighting, Yor felt unshed tears burning the corners of her eyes. This was the aquarium all over again, but worse! She turned, expecting to see (Y/n) there, ready to give her a hug and to let her know everything would be alright, but of course she wasn’t there.

Yor had already been so tense and her brain had been so focused on looking for Anya, she had somehow lost her dear (Y/n) along the way! Now she began to really freak out, completely overwhelmed by the crowded venue and the noise pitching around and within her.

Something in her that was already tense, snapped and she jumped up, kicked off of a nearby pillar, and expertly braced herself on the ceiling so she could search from above. Her breathing uneven, she drowned out the noise of the crowd below. She didn’t see Anya. Anya wasn’t there, not even a trace, and that terrified her.

What if she had been eaten by a dog?! No, Yor managed to stop that train of thought. That was unlikely. Someone would surely have noticed something like that. But what if she had been kidnapped again like when they had gone to the aquarium, or when they had gone grocery shopping! What if (Y/n) had been taken too!

An awful image of her beloved and her adopted daughter being carted away by despicable men to be married off to even more vile and cruel men consumed her vision, but then she found a small light, a familiar splash of color, she saw (Y/n) in one of the far corners of the venue, a strange man looming over her.

Without another second of delay, she skillfully swung from the pipes above and dove between them from the ceiling, startling the man enough to make him yelp. Yor prepared to uppercut him into the sun next, to see what kind of sound that would make, but instead (Y/n)’s hand quickly shot out to grasp her bicep and pull her back. Confused, Yor allowed her.

“Where the hell did you come from lady?” The man blinked, bug-eyed, mouth agape.

“She’s the mother. As you can see, she’s worried sick. If you see her little girl, please do not hesitate to let us know.” (Y/n) beseeched, pulling Yor back a bit more to try to knock her out of whatever murder-y thoughts were fogging up her mind.

“Yeah… of course.” The man gave them a weird look then began walking briskly away.

(Y/n) turned to hold both of Yor’s biceps, pressing her thumbs into the fabric of her coat’s sleeves to try to put pressure on the tense muscles beneath.

“Hey, try to breathe, okay? What’s the matter? Besides the obvious.” She cooed.

Yor sobbed, slamming her head hard against (Y/n)’s chest, making a deep thunk sound that rattled (Y/n)’s insides.

“Oof!” (Y/n) winced, but held Yor all the same, rubbing her back comfortingly.

“I- I can’t find Miss Anya! A-and I thought you had gotten taken too!”

“Honey,” (Y/n) murmured, giving a, ‘mind your own business’ smile to anyone who dared curiously look their way, “I told you I would look for Anya over here. You must not have heard me.”

“I guess not.” She sniffed.

“I’m okay. Now take some deep breaths. It’s clear that Anya isn’t in here, we need to go find her, but we can’t be snapping the neck of anyone whose just going about their day.”

Yor made a pitiful sound, but cut herself off halfway through, almost knocking heads with (Y/n) from how quickly she brought her head up.

“What…!” (Y/n) began to ask, but she heard it then too, that sounded like Anya outside!

And she was outside! They could see her through the window! She was barreling down the street… on top of a big, fluffy white dog.

Yor took (Y/n)’s hand and began sprinting in the direction the dog had ran off in. It was a brutal pace, one that (Y/n) couldn’t keep up with and when she tried to communicate to Yor that she would catch up. Yor was having none of it and scooped (Y/n) up into her arms, making quite the spectacle as they zoomed around the people walking by. It hardly mattered to Yor. She wasn’t going to risk losing (Y/n) for real by leaving her behind.

“Down that alley!” (Y/n) pointed.

“Right!”

(Y/n) braced herself, this was the side of her career that she was not trained for, but when they saw a strange man reaching for Anya in the alley, she still let Yor take her by the arms and spin her at a dizzying pace before finally being launched towards Anya.

(Y/n) sailed over the shocked kidnapper’s head, took hold of Anya’s hands, and catapulted her into the air. While Anya was airborne, (Y/n) sprung off of her hands when she hit the ground and flipped into an upright standing position just in time to catch Anya and see Yor smash her foot into the kidnapper’s face.

Yor fell into place beside (Y/n) so that Anya was between them, protected on either side. Anya couldn’t have looked more relieved to see them, looking between them with visible awe and joy.

“You won’t get away with this, Mr. Perverted Kidnapper,” Yor spoke in a measured tone, glaring at the remaining man who had his jaw hanging open, “It is much too early for Miss Anya to get married!”

“Married?” (Y/n) cocked her head to the side. Just what kind of scenarios was Yor imagining?

The gravity of the situation seemed to catch up to Anya then, because she began to cry, grasping onto the coats of both women she wailed,

“Mama! I was so scared!”

“Don’t worry, you’re all right now.” Yor comforted.

“We’ve got you.” (Y/n) assured, wiping Anya’s tears.

Kieth clenched his teeth. Which one was the mother? Ah, it didn’t matter. They’d all have to die if he was going to succeed in his plans.

“Dog! Rip their throats out!” He commanded.

The German Shepherd beside him began to approach, snarling, but then Yor gave one of her most terrifying expressions to date and growled right back with startling ferocity. The dog whimpered pathetically and turned tail, running out of the alley as fast as he could.

“Coward!” Kieth yelled after him.

“Bwah! Mama, I’m scared!” Anya bawled, hiding her face in (Y/n)’s coat, keeping Yor out of her sight.

“Hm? But you’re safe now?” Yor frowned, perhaps not realizing just how frightening her face had been jus a moment before.

“Don’t worry Anya, if that man thinks he can take you from us he has another thing coming!” (Y/n) promised, her mind filled with thoughts of fire and acid.

Yeah, Anya was glad to have those two on her side because they were honestly terrifying.

Voices began to be heard near the mouth of the alley and Keith cursed. All that noise had alerted people from the street, and now they were coming to investigate!

“Come on, come on you stupid mutt!” He hissed at the remaining dog, the big and fluffy white one. He tugged and tugged at the dog’s leash, but he wouldn’t budge.

“Damn worthless beast!” He kicked the dog in anger and fled the scene empty handed.

“He’s getting away!” Yor groaned, but she stood firmly at (Y/n)’s side. There was already one kidnapper she needed to properly detain and she didn’t want to leave (Y/n) and Anya for even a second.

Just how long is Loid going to stay in the bathroom? She mourned internally. His stomach was probably revolting from the breakfast she had made!

“Mr. Dog are you okay?” Anya asked, running up the the dog once (Y/n) put her down.

“Ah, careful Miss Anya! You shouldn’t run up to dogs you don’t know.” (Y/n) warned, trying to stop Anya from going any further.

“Mr. Doggie is no stranger. He saved Anya.” Anya put her hands over her heart, looking over to the dog with gratitude.

“Where did this dog come from, Miss Anya?” Yor asked.

Anya took a deep breath, that question required a very big answer.

“Terrorist bomb dogs?!” Yor blanched.

(Y/n) got on her knees and thoroughly searched the fluffy dog for bombs. Thankfully, there weren’t any. She sighed in relief and gave Yor a shaky thumbs up.

“Anya is sorry for running off without permission…” Anya mumbled, grabbing the hem of her coat between her fingers while she kept her eyes firmly on the ground.

“We’re just glad that you are safe.” (Y/n) knelt to the ground to hug Anya.

“We were so worried about you.” Yor chimed, following her partner to the ground.

“But expect a stern talking to when we get home.” (Y/n) warned.

Anya pouted, but nodded in acceptance and the three, plus the dog, walked out of the alley, tied up kidnapper dragging behind Yor.

They called the police on a nearby public phone to explain the situation, during which Anya suddenly grew restless, shaking the dog.

“Anya don’t be rough with the doggie.” Yor scolded lightly before her attention was brought back to the receptionist on the phone.

“Mama, Mama, sorry, Anya just remembered something. Papa forgot to take toilet paper with him to the potty!” The little girl yelled out of the blue.

“Huh?”

“What?”

(Y/n) and Yor stared on, frozen, as Anya leapt onto the dog’s back and urged him into a run.

“He might be in trouble so I have to go get some from home!”

“Anya, wait!” Yor called, reaching out the hand that wasn’t currently cradling the receiver.

“She’s running off again!” (Y/n) yelled in disbelief, finally sprinting after the blob of pink and white as they rounded the corner.

“W-wait! What about the police?” Yor called after her.

“We told them all we could! Just hang up and leave that guy there, he won’t wake up anytime soon! Let’s go before we lose Anya again!”

“Ah, okay!” Yor rose the receiver back to her ear, “I’m leaving the kidnapper by this phone booth! I have to go now, bye!” She hung up the phone and caught up with (Y/n) before she rounded the corner.

They searched every block, every street within half a mile. (Y/n) finally came to a stop, resting heavily on the guardrail of the bridge they had been speed-walking across.

“Darling, are you alright?” Yor’s voice was laced with worry. She could tell that (Y/n) was breathing quite hard.

“I’ll be okay, I just need a minute.” She wheezed. God, cardio sucks.

While (Y/n) tried not to keel over on the bridge, Yor paced back and forth. The only trace that she had been running at all was the light layer of sweat on her rosy face.

“What if she gets found by the terrorists again? I can’t let that happen!” Yor fretted.

“Maybe she went back to the pet shelter?” (Y/n) suggested between breaths. “At the very least, maybe Loid is finally there?”

Before Yor could speak, a loud honk of a horn and a sharp squeal of tires interrupted her. The scent of burnt rubber permeated the air. Looking down from the bridge, the women saw a car speeding recklessly down the road.

The light caught the windshield just right, allowing Yor to see an unwelcomingly familiar face. The other man who tried to kidnap Anya!

“Him again? How dare he try to take Miss Anya and run away! You won’t get away this time!” She declared, then jumped off of the bridge.

“Yor!” (Y/n) yelled. She tried to reach out for her, but she was too slow. Her hands snapped right to her eyes. Covering them from whatever was about to happen. “Pleasebeokaypleasebeokaypleasebeokay—“

An awful crashing noise reverberated within (Y/n)’s ears and she cautiously lifted her face from her hands. Below, she could see that Yor looked unscathed, thank the stars, but the car looked as if it had been t-boned before crashing into a lamppost.

(Y/n) hobbled down the hill to meet Yor on the street and flung her arms around her, a gesture that was always eagerly returned.

“Are you hurt?”

“Nope!” Yor smiled, “Kicking the car did make my leg feel a little tingly though.”

“My indestructible tank, I love you.” (Y/n) sighed, looking back at the crushed car. “We’ll have to call the police… again.”

They quickly relayed the location of the car and hung up before the responder could ask any follow-up questions. Then they were off to continue their search for Anya.

It was near sunset when they saw Loid walking down the sidewalk towards them. They opened their mouths in a rush to tell him that Anya had run off on a dog, but said girl and dog appeared from the alley between them and they instead slumped over each other in relief.

“What are you three doing here?” Loid asked, “I’m surprised to find you so far from the shelter.”

“Anya was coming to give papa toilet paper.”

“Ah.”

“She ran off on us. Twice.” (Y/n) informed, resting most of her weight against Yor. Now that Anya was with them once more, the exhaustion of running around all day was really starting to get to her.

“Did she now…” Loid looked down at Anya disapprovingly, finally truly noticing the dog beside her. “And who is the dog?

“That is actually quite the story.” Yor rubbed at her cheek with a sheepish smile and retold the events of the day. (Y/n) would occasionally chime in, but ultimately she was too tired to try to censor anything Yor was saying. Somewhere in her brain she knew they probably shouldn’t talking about taking down terrorists without much trouble, but again she was too tired to care.

“I’m sorry all that happened while I was in the bathroom.” Loid finally said, a faint blush coloring his cheeks.

“Yeah, you were gone all day. Have you considered seeing a doctor, because that is not at all normal.” (Y/n) spoke in a teasing tone, but there was a notable hint of concern in the way her eyebrows scrunched together.

“It was probably because of what I made for breakfast.” Yor bemoaned.

“It has to be something else. The rest of us survived.”

Loid, wanting to put his day long trip to the ‘bathroom’ behind him, began to address Anya and her penchant for running off.

“How many times do I have to tell you to not run off on your own. You could have been seriously hurt!” He yelled, making Anya flinch.

“Anya is sorry!” She sniffled, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

Loid immediately softened, falling to one knee before her, “I’m sorry for yelling. I was just worried. You aren’t hurt at all though, right?”

Anya shook her head, putting a hand on the fluffy dog beside her. The fur nearly swallowed up her hand.

“Mr. Dog protected me.”

Loid smiled at the dog, petting him gently, “Thank you.”

“Excuse us,”

The family turned to see a woman and a man in suits approaching them from across the street,

“We’re investigating an incident near City Center. We understand that this was one of the dogs involved in the incident.” The woman said. “Please hand him over to us. He’ll be in good hands.”

“Of course. Thank you.” Loid tipped his hat, motioning them towards the dog.

“Now we can go back to looking for a puppy!” Yor beamed excitedly.

“Is the shelter even still open?” (Y/n) almost hoped it wasn’t. She wanted to shower and then spend the next several days in bed. She was already dreading how sore she was going to be tomorrow.

“Come on, Anya. Let’s go take a look.” Loid reached for her hand, but Anya pulled away.

“No! Anya wants Mr. Dog!” She said, stepping between the officers and the dog.

Loid shook his head. “He was owned by bad guys.”

“He saved Anya!” The esper refuted.

“You said you wanted a small dog.” Loid crossed his arms, peering down at his fickle adopted daughter.

“But Anya wants Mr. Dog now, it’s okay that he is big!” Anya continued to argue, hugging the dog close.

“Anya please,” Loid pinched the bridge of his nose, “Stop being so difficult.”

“If papa doesn’t let me have Mr. Dog, Anya will go bad and stop going to school!” Anya’s lip wobbled and then she began to cry.

“Wh— what are you saying?!” Loid sputtered.

“It’s okay, Miss Anya! Please don’t cry!” Yor beseeched.

“There are a lot of nice dogs in the world! I’m sure you’ll find another who is just as sweet…” (Y/n) attempted to console, but she knew that trying to get Anya to change her mind would be impossible at this point. She did just spend the whole day with this dog after all.

“Very well.” The woman conceded, leaving Loid particularly surprised.

“What?!”

The woman chuckled, then couched in front of Anya, a bittersweet smile on her lips.

“The dog itself didn’t cause any harm. If you promise to take good care of him, he’s yours, but we will need to keep him for the night to check his health first.” She explained softly.

“Are you protecting the other doggies too?”

“They are sleeping in the softest of beds and eating warm, yummy food.” She nodded.

“Thank you very much, important lady.”

The woman’s smile tugged a little further, “You’re welcome.” She stood back to her full height, turning to Loid. “We shall make contact with you tomorrow.“

“Thank you. Sorry for the trouble.” Loid bowed his head.

“No trouble at all. Have a good night.”

And so they began their trek home. Anya and Yor were particularly pleased with themselves because of the parts they played in saving the city from terrorists. (Y/n) and Loid on the other hand were exhausted.

“Why do you look like that?” (Y/n) had asked him pointedly. “I know it isn’t easy being… ill, all day, but I’ve been running around the city for hours and I still look better than you.”

“Do you really want to know?” Loid asked with a wry smile, his eye twitching in aggravation. If only they knew what he had really been up to all day!

“No.” (Y/n) shook her head quickly, “No, I really don’t want to know. Forget I said anything.”

After a night of the deepest sleep that any of them had ever experienced, morning soon came, and with it, a large and fluffy white dog.

“So curious!” Yor giggled, watching the dog sniff around the living room.

“Anya wants to stay home to play with Mr. dog today.” Anya said hugging the dog tightly.

“I believe the deal was that you wouldn’t stop going to school if you got this dog.” Loid said after spitting his toothpaste in the sink. “Get ready for school.”

“Does Anya at least get a Stella for helping stop the bad guys?” She asked. That would help put her in a better mood about going to school.

“I’m afraid not, Anya. No one is supposed to know about what was going to happen because it would just cause fear and panic. You have to keep it to yourself or the police might need to come and take you away.”

“Shock!” Anya flinched. She couldn’t let that happen, but it certainly was a disappointment that she couldn’t tell anyone.

“Loid!” (Y/n) gasped from the other room, “Don’t phrase it like that, you’ll scare her!”

Loid rolled his eyes at his reflection in the mirror and Anya began getting ready to go to school, pouting all the while.

“Have a good day at school Miss Anya!” Yor waved. “(Y/n) and I will take good care of Mr. Doggie while you’re away.”

“I’ll do my best.” (Y/n) called from the couch. Even raising her hand to wave goodbye to Anya hurt. Her whole body felt stiff and sore from the whole ordeal yesterday while it appeared to be just another normal day for Yor.

Anya and Loid said their goodbyes and then it was just (Y/n), Yor and the curious new addition to the family.

“Yor, darling, would you make me some ice packs.” (Y/n) groaned while she moved to lay flat on the couch.

“Of course! My poor, sore heart!” Yor cooed. She cupped (Y/n)’s cheek and leaned down to kiss her forehead before heading to the kitchen.

While (Y/n) waited for Yor’s return, the dog took notice of her and began to lumber up to her.

“Hello, getting used to your new home?” (Y/n) asked him.

The dog sniffed her hand, then slowly hoisted himself up onto his hind legs by placing his front paws on the edge of the couch.

“Ah, wait. No, don’t come up here— dog! No! Down! Oof!”

(Y/n) couldn’t stop the dog from laying flat across her sore body. It was a warm, and an almost comforting weight, but in the state (Y/n) was in currently, she didn’t find it entirely enjoyable, but it was kind of cute.

“Honey, did you say something…?” Yor walked back into the room, her arms filled with industrial bags of ice that she got from who-knows-where. Her eyes fell on the dog and she pouted, “That was going to be my spot, Mr. Doggie.”

“Yor, help me get him off. He’s too heavy.”

Yor did as she was asked, dragging the dog back to the floor.

“I apologize, Mr. Doggie, but (Y/n) is sore from running around yesterday. Surely you understand.” Yor then promptly dropped the giant bags of ice onto (Y/n)’s body.

“Not quite what I had in mind, but thah, thank you.” (Y/n) shivered.

The dog was undeterred by the upheaval and soon climbed his way back onto the couch, sinking between the bags of ice.

“My, perhaps he is sore too!” Yor observed. “Poor thing.”

(Y/n) sighed. She couldn’t find it within herself to make Yor push the dog away a second time. Perhaps she should feel special because the dog seemed to like her already, but her body was not appreciative of the extra pressure at this time.

“Would it help for me to massage your calves?” Yor asked thoughtfully. “Mr. Dog isn’t covering those up.”

(Y/n) mulled it over. Typically, a massage from Yor would be nice as long as she didn’t push too hard.

“I think that sounds nice, just be gentle please.”

“I will, I promise!”

And she really was. Yor did a great job, so wonderful in fact, that the combination of the frigid melting ice, the warm, weighted blanket of a dog, and the soothing massage knocked (Y/n) right out.

She was rudely awakened hours later when the dog clumsily leapt off of her to jump into Anya’s arms when she got home from school.

“Welcome home!” Yor smiled, clasping her hands to rest them against her cheek, “Oh my, such good friends already! He must have missed you!”

“Save me! He’s eating me!” Anya gasped while the dog slobbered all over her.

“He seems to have a lot of pent up energy. We should take him for a walk.” Loid suggested. He looked over to (Y/n) laid limply across the couch and smirked, “Care to join us, (Y/n)?”

“Not today.” (Y/n) deadpanned, ever so slowly lifting herself into a sitting position. “You all go on ahead. I’ll start getting dinner ready.”

“Are you sure? I could stay an help.” Yor volunteered.

“I’ll be fine,” (Y/n) assured, “Go have fun at the dog park.”

(Y/n) shuffled through the kitchen like an old woman, slowly preparing dinner. Though she could be prideful at times, she was actually surprised that she had dinner mostly completed before the Forger’s returned home.

“I hope they haven’t ran into anymore trouble.” She murmured to herself as she finished setting the table. She walked to the armchair this time around when she finished her self imposed task. She hissed through clenched teeth as she lowered herself into the plush chair.

She then decided she would never run again, maybe never even walk. She didn’t care if it would look strange, she was going to have Yor carry her everywhere from now on and if she knew anything about her love, she would be happy to do it too.

Finally, the front door opened and the Forger’s piled inside.

Anya ran up to (Y/n) all excited, “Mama, I know what to name Mr. Dog!”

“Do you? What is it?” (Y/n) thought Mr. Dog was the name already, but she was curious to hear what else Anya had come up with.

“Wait just a minute!” Anya asked.

She bounced excitedly when Loid came back from the short trip to his room, a black ribbon of fabric in hand. He deftly tied the fabric around the dog’s neck and once he stepped away, (Y/n) saw he had looped it into a bow tie.

“Behold!” Anya flung her arms out in the direction of the dog happily thumping his tail against the floor. “Bond!”

“Oh, like Bondman.” Loid understood. “That should work just fine.”

“Boof!” Bond leapt at Anya, sending her to the floor in a flurry of licks and wiggly wags that made Anya laugh.

“He seems to like it.” (Y/n) smiled fondly.

“They’re so cute!” Yor cooed.

“Come, Bond! Let me show you around the hideout!”

“Anya, it’s dinner time. And don’t forget you need to study. afterwards.” Loid warned.

“Anya will study later, promise.”

Loid’s eye twitched, but he relented.

After dinner, Anya fed Bond. She filled his bowl to the brim and watched him begin to chow down.

“Try not to give him too much.” Loid cautioned as he walked by, a towel under his arm. “I’m going to take my bath now, but I expect you to be studying by the time I’m done.”

Anya pouted and Loid walked to the bathroom. Curious, Anya took a kibble from Bond’s bowl and nearly popped it into her mouth before (Y/n) called out her name.

“Miss Anya, please don’t eat anything meant for a dog.” (Y/n) shivered in disgust as she scrubbed the dishes nearby.

“I know it must look tempting, but take it from me, it is not as good as it looks.” Yor helpfully added.

“I don’t want to know if that is coming from a place of experience or not.” (Y/n) said, but the shy laugh Yor gave was damning.

Soon after he finished his meal, Bond began to wiggle uncomfortably and Anya took notice.

“Need to go potty? Here, I’ll show you where to go.” Anya led him to a wide tub lined with newspaper. “When nobody can take you outside, you go in here. If you go anywhere else, mama will get mad cause she like things tidy.”

After business was taken care of, Anya and Bond played all over the apartment. (Y/n) wanted to remind Anya about her studies, but she couldn’t bear to break up the fun. It was Bond’s first day home, and Anya hardly got to see him before she had to go to school. A little more playtime couldn’t hurt.

(Y/n) and Yor watched them play, losing track of time. And when Loid returned from his bath, they showed him the cute little girl and her dog curled up together and fast asleep.

The studying could wait until tomorrow, Loid supposed.

#spy family x reader #spy x family x reader #yor briar x reader #yor forger x reader #yor x reader

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