#Swimming Classes for Toddlers | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

talkbycolor · 5 months ago

Text

MC's kindergarden . . . ↷

Yanderes as toddlers AU

GN!Reader as a teacher who doesnt get paid enough for this.

CW: just a bunch of weird kids wanting to marry their teacher, keep scrolling

Sunny Day Jack.

the golden child, the angel of the classroom, he is a little devil in disguise, getting his classmates into trouble so that his teacher thinks he is the best

he looks like a mini teacher, he teaches colors to his classmates and shares everything (except the teacher)

uses guilt to convince his teacher, but with that little face and red cheeks, who wouldn't fall for it?

a very intelligent child but he is selfish, he learned to steal cookies from the kitchen and has not told anyone

he gives part of his lunch to his teacher, he likes to eat and sit next to him, he is the child who gives bouquets of flowers picked from the playground (MC already scolded him so he should look for other places to get flowers)

MC doesn't usually scold him often since he manipulates and makes kicked puppy eyes to get his way, a mini bastard

John Doe.

probably autistic and socially anxious child, very attached to MC, they must always accompany him to go to the bathroom, he eats in the classroom during recess time while MC teacher accompanies him

this is the child you have to make sure doesn't go through the trash or eat the crayons

he is actually a very sweet boy, MC usually combs his hair before school so it doesn't bother him, for some reason Doe always has it tangled and dirty

he can't count to 10 with his hands, poor thing

cat-like affection, gives insects or interesting things he found on the playground to his teacher

when the children play house, he is the mascot

Alan Orion.

boy obsessed with outer space, his lunch box and clothes are full of planets and stars

wants to impress MC with his knowledge about space, he usually tells them facts about galaxies and constellations during classes

MC of course would notice certain marks on Alan's little body, he would feel protective of the child (llamen al dif)

he steals things from his classmates, he was already scolded several times by MC

animal lover, once brought a moth he found on the playground into the classroom and Doe ate it, he cried for thirty minutes while MC comforted him

when he plays with puppets he pretends that one puppet is him and the other is MC, usually his games are of them getting married and living in the forest

Peter Dunbar.

a very sociable child simply because he is indifferent to all other people other than MC, he enjoys causing mischief to his classmates who play with MC

MC has to make sure Peter doesn't bite his fingers or scratch his face, a habit he has while concentrating

Peter looks like a bald rat when it's very hot weather, which MC finds funny, but they still puts sunscreen on him so the boy doesn't get sun-burned

even though there are many things that Peter doesn't like, like swimming, fruits or singing, he would do it for MC, adding the biggest embarrassment of his life by doing group dance with his classmates but happy to see his favorite teacher smiling

he would bring sweet lunches to share with his teacher, lying by saying that it is too much and he can't eat it all by himself (Peter loves sweet lunches but he loves his teacher more)

probably draws him and MC on the board with lots of hearts around them, causing the other kids in the classroom to start crying because they want to be the only ones for MC

Ren.

a cutie with his teacher, a bastard with everyone else, he knows how to maintain that image very well to fool MC

he sneaks into the staff room to see you, very attentive, isn't he? sometimes he leaves small gifts on your table

fights with Peter every time he tries to get him in trouble with the teacher, he must maintain his good boy reputation for you to love him!

the last time a girl confessed to him, Ren pushed her into the mud of the playground and made her cry, unfortunately the girl told MC and Ren also cried, not because of the scolding but because he didn't want MC to think that he was bad

once he saw you outside of class time, you were at the supermarket and he panicked because he had fake tattoos that he put on (they came in the packaging of the gum he ate)

MC would come to think that Ren lives in a super religious way since he always draws angels. Ren doesn't draw angels, he draws an angel (you)

Mycheal.

another little manipulator but this one cries every time he tricks MC and gets hugs illicitly (little baby)

he is a very hardworking child in class when it is time to do manual work, he likes to make small paper flowers for his teacher

the baby gets very sad every time he is left out of school projects, he doesn't know why no one seems to like him. surprisingly, he managed to get along fairly well with John Doe until he noticed his interest in MC

usually wraps his tail around MC's leg whenever he feels nervous or sick, that has been an indicator for MC to lull the child

kid who is a cotton candy fan, Peter pushed him while they were playing on the playground and his candy fell to the ground (he cried for 40 minutes)

kitten boy starts purring when MC praises his work

Keith and Tenebris.

as for them, I decided that they were twins in this AU (tenebris still has his blue skin and strange smile), they don't seem to get along very well and have a marked rivalry because they both want MC for themselves

Keith usually hates being in the classroom because his classmates are very noisy, MC has tried to help him with the overstimulation so that it is not an uncomfortable experience, since then Keith loves going to kindergarten

Tenebris does not get along with most of his classmates (if not all), he came close to befriending John Doe and Mycheal because they know what it's like to be treated differently because of how they look, but Doe scared him off by showing him a pair of beetles he found on the playground and Mycheal…well, just by being a liar

Keith is a very dedicated child, he likes to take care of the flowers in the playground with the help of MC, his teacher usually reads books about facts about flowers and apparently Keith is one of the few who pays attention (he cries every time that Jack plucks flowers from the garden to give them to MC)

Tenebris uses a toy guitar from the classroom to serenade his favorite teacher, that always kills MC with cuteness (Tenebris gets angry because it's not a real guitar)

when there are school trips, Keith always takes his teacher's hand and tries to pull them to see everything he finds interesting with them, whether it's a flower or a heart-shaped cloud

Tenebris always takes advantage when playing with swords with his classmates to satisfy his violent need to hurt everyone who likes MC, the game ends up turning into a real battle and Tenebris is scolded

Solivan Brugmansia.

at first glance, MC thought that the boy was always upset and didn't like him being around, but Sol just doesn't know what to do like when he's around his favorite teacher

the quiet child in the classroom, prefers to do his work alone, always takes the opportunity to draw MC with chalk on the playground

the boy is obviously obsessed (and not in a fun way) with his teacher, his parents came to the classroom angry because Sol had his sketchbooks full of sketches of you

you are the only person he allows to hold his stuffed animal, he leaves it with you whenever he goes to the bathroom and asks you to play with it, you don't think it's strange that Sol has a stuffed horse, children have strange toys all the time

Sol is clearly a target for bullying, you know it, you see it, so you have to constantly check that he is not hurt (Peter put gum in his hair once and he cried a lot)

SURPRISINGLY, he is one of the few children who has REAL friends, he has Hyugo, a classmate from another class, Hyugo knows about his crush on MC and is not very secretive, Sol has to cover his mouth or push him to the sandbox to make him shut up

Damon.

puppy love, usually chases other children on all fours and licks snot from his own nose

barks every time someone gets too close to MC but in the end the scolding is always worth it since MC teacher strokes his head when he doesn't promise it won't happen again (it will happen again)

he will believe anything you tell him, he is quite gullible with the things that MC says, if his teacher tells him that he can't dig holes in the playground because giant insects will come out of there that will eat everyone, Damon believes it

sweet tooth, loves chocolate, MC has to be careful with what his students eat, Damon often hides chocolate bars in his pockets and that always ends in MC confiscating the chocolates

Damon has a friend in another class who he calls DG, he is his best friend and again Damon is one of the few kids with real friends in your class, DG knows that Damon likes you but unlike Hyugo he is more secretive

when there are school dances, Damon gives his all, always trying hard, not only because he loves to dance but he also loves when his favorite teacher applauds and praises him

♡

1K notes · View notes

dahliakbs · 8 months ago

Text

BatFam! x Toddler! (GN!) Reader

Including: Jason Todd, Dick Grayson and Tim Drake

Masterlist

Thinking of batfam with a toddler reader who they have to babysit every other day.

Dick Grayson -

- Like whenever reader needs anything they immediately go to Dick, not even realizing that they're hurting the rest in the process.

- Like Bruce could be right Infront of them but they immediately waddle all the way over to Dick.

- He'll sit down and watch anything you want to watch or take you anywhere (but the batcave)in the manor.

- He'll never take you on patrol, your to young! Matter of fact he won't take you outside of the manor period. Your whole world is inside the manor.

Dick would never take you out of the manor but whenever Jason is home it's a whole different story.

Jason Todd -

As soon as gets back to the manor he's immediately heading to your room and taking you out to explore the world... without permission of course.

- Like Tim comes to your room to hang out after a long day of school work only to find that your not in your room nor in the house in general. Instead your somewhere in the most dangerous city in the world with a crime lord.

-But fret not, Jason's just taking you to the most secluded book store in Gotham to introduce you to the world of books.

- Either that or he's got you strapped to his back like a backpack fighting random thugs in the most dangerous alleyways in the Gotham.

Sibling bonding time is what he likes to call it!

Don't worry, at some point he'll return you home and by return I mean he'll ring the door bell, drop you off on the door step and run away as fast as he can so he doesn't get lectured by Alfred.

Tim Drake

With Tim there have been a lot of instances where you end up injured or somewhere your not supposed to be.

- Like that one time he had to babysit you but he also had school so he place you inside of his backpack along with a couple of your favorite snacks and told you to not come out unless he tells you to.

-Then in the middle of class everyone just sees a toddler's head peeking out of his bag.

- And everyone is so shocked that when you get out of the bag and waddle out the room they don't say anything. Tim doesn't even notice cause he's already face first into his notebook trying to catch some z's.

- Then a couple minutes later he's called to the principal's office to find out that you somehow got into the swimming room, slipped on the wet tiles, hit your knee on the edge of the swimming pool and somehow fell in.

-After that you were never allowed to go outside of the manor.

#batfam x reader #batfam #batfamily x reader #batfamily #batman x reader #batman x child! reader #dc x reader #dc #dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #batfam x you #tim drake x reader #tim drake #tim drake x you #dick grayson x you #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd #dc x you

1K notes · View notes

otterswim1 · 2 years ago

Text

youtube

Find your next swimming adventure at otterswim today! We want to make sure your kids get the best swimming education, so we're giving you all the resources and freedom to choose, such as swimming lessons for toddlers. Learning to swim is not like you know it. Once you join our best swim school in Singapore, you’ll never be the same. Now you can swim in any fluid with confidence and without fear. Swimming is an invaluable tool for every lifestyle.

#swimming lessons for kids #swimming classes for kid #children's swimming lessons #swimming lessons for beginners #baby swimming lessons singapore #baby swimming lessons yishun #swimming lessons for toddlers yishun #indoor swim school #infant swimming class yishun #toddlers swimming classes in yishun #indoor heated swimming school #swimming school yishun #best swimming school yishun #swimming classes yishun #Youtube

0 notes

theragethatisdesire · 1 year ago

Text

aot men as dads - headcanon!! some 18+!!

includes: eren, jean, reiner, & levi

i'm still working on some full-fledged one-shots and parts of my series', but i'm nannying for the summer and have BABY FEVER. please enjoy my little headcanons of my fav aot men as dads <3

DISCLAIMER: some of this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.

Eren

ok but eren is such a cringe dad lol

buys himself all of the #1 Dad! merch. he’s got mugs, tshirts, hats, all of it, and all of it went on his credit card.

10000% a girl dad. loves all the little dresses and bows; he puts your daughter’s hair in its first bun, nearly tears up when she points at his matching hairstyle and babbles “like da-da!”

you have to parent eren as much as the children. when you turn the corner into the living room where he’s supposed to be having “quiet time” with your toddler only to find that they’re buried in a pillow fort and eren’s signed his own name in crayon on the wall next to your daughter’s scribblings. “babe, we can just repaint it! she’s being creative.”

loves when you’re pregnant. after your first, eren keeps a calendar on the wall marking off the days until it’s safe for him to fuck you again, fuck a baby right back into you. already has a breeding kink before your first. develops a lactation kink after.

TERRIFIED (and i mean terrified) of hurting your little angel. has absolutely zero concept of “cry it out”; if he hears his baby crying, he’s sprinting into the next room, kissing a nonexistent boo-boo.

refuses to admit it but he has no backbone when it comes to your daughter wanting literally anything. she wants it, she gets it.

favorite thing in the world is matching outfits. favorite. “babe, where’s her green hoodie? i’m wearing mine today for the park!” “of course it matters, we have to match! on that note, where’s yours?”

lets your daughter use his hair to learn how to braid. usually has a few pink hair ties or glittery clips sticking out of it when you come home from a mom’s night out.

really big on your baby getting to see the world. drags you on vacation to any place he can think of, even as you try to explain to him that she can’t form any long term memories yet. “but baby, she’ll have pictures. how many kids in her class can bring a picture of them at the eiffel tower to their first show-and-tell?”

accidentally ruins santa and the tooth fairy for your daughter. cries harder than she does over it.

aggressively vets babysitters. ends up settling for a nursing student in the labor & delivery school who’s the oldest of seven children and probably more knowledgeable about child development than both of you combined, but he’s still suspicious.

wants to watch while you push, watch his baby come into the world. you’ve never seen a sweeter sight than eren in his scrubs, crying while holding your baby girl.

Jean

most people picture eren as being the roughhousing dad, but it’s jean, and i will die on this hill.

freaks out every time he drops your first boy while throwing him around like a ragdoll, but he’ll never stop because “listen!! he’s laughing!”. when it comes to the rest of them, he’s experienced enough now to tell the difference between a real booboo and an imagined one, and he simply brushes their little pants off caringly before shouting “now you tackle me!”

jean’s got no gender preference for your first, or the rest of your little brood for that matter. he raises them exactly the same, regardless: tough.

it takes him awhile to get used to the concept of babies’ minds. you’ve walked in on him having full-blown arguments with your shrieking toddlers several times. “what’s not making sense? if you let your goldfish ‘swim’ in the toilet, it dies, simple as that.”

plays “bad cop” for you because you’re terrible at it, but he’s always having to turn around and snicker into his elbow in the middle of scolding because your babies get the same little throbbing forehead vein as you when they’re mad

wants a big family, and gets it. you practically have to drag him to get his balls snipped after your fourth, him reminding you that “it’s reversible!” the entire way there.

the newborn phase is his favorite. he’s rarely home for any longer than ten minutes without scooping your most recent addition into his arms, squishing their little cheeks and marveling at their gurgling noises.

the kids never give him anxiety, but when you’re pregnant??? jean’s a wreck.

“do your feet still hurt, love?” “what do you mean you have indigestion? that could be the baby coming!” “of course we can’t have sex, what if we poke its little head?”

definitely the dad that’s got a delivery bag and a backup bag and an emergency third backup of the backup bag in his car at all times. the first week of your third trimester, he starts watching you suspiciously for any signs of labor, even though this is your fourth together. you think you’ve got it down by now, you tell him, but he won’t listen.

always gets the kids to work together on little surprises for you. every mother’s day they wake you up with breakfast, every valentines day your dining room table is covered in handmade cards, every birthday your kitchen is coated in flour from jean and four little ones attempting to bake

SO HARD to drag him out for a date night. he wants to bring them everywhere: the fancy restaurant, the couples' get away trip

jean's that dad standing in the bar, watching the game, beer in hand, with an occupied baby carrier strapped to his chest

wants to watch during delivery, but he passed out the first go-round, so now he’s content standing up by your head, trying not to turn white as you squeeze his hand hard enough to break.

talks you into just one more on your fourth’s second birthday. “they’re all so big now. don’t you miss it, babe? my baby in your belly? c’mon…” turns out he reversed that vasectomy without telling you

Reiner

another girl dad. hardcore girl dad.

buys his little princess all number of dresses and barbies, is confused when she’s more interested in the baseballs her classmates have.

accidentally raises the most tomboyish, toughest little girl. still babies her, and she hates it.

cries more than you do on your first date night out when you leave her with your mom. forgets to order his entree at the restaurant because he’s watching the baby monitor app on his phone.

definitely the best at splitting baby duties with you. reiner’s up before you most nights when she wakes, grabbing a bottle and cooing at her lovingly even as she screams. you always try to stay awake to watch him on the baby monitor, though, heart melting as his massive arms rock the tiny bundle back to sleep.

all the neighborhood kids love him because of his size. at every cookout, reiner can’t help on the grill because he’s buried in the grass in a little army of toddlers, led by your daughter, shrieking with joy.

always taking pictures. literally always. unflattering ones when you fall asleep breastfeeding, candids at the zoo, eighteen identical pictures of the lock of hair from her first haircut clogging up his camera roll.

can’t be the bad cop. literally ever. he just can’t say no to his little princess, can’t break her precious little heart by telling her that throwing her food onto the floor is bad.

takes your daughter to mommy & me classes with him

DILF DILF DILF. all the moms in the classes swoon over him and gossip about him when he’s not there; much to your annoyance, reiner never notices, insisting that they’re his “mommy friends”.

always sporting a little bit of glitter on his face or a sticker on his back from your daughter

coming from a fatherless background, reiner nearly kills himself trying to be a constant presence in your daughter’s life (you have to remind him that he has to rest too)

never misses an open house night at school, even if it nearly gets him fired. coaches all of her sports teams. literally almost cries when she makes her first soccer goal. actually does cry when she tells you the boy sitting beside her in class called her his girlfriend. full-blown breakdown on her first day of school, so bad he has to stay home from work.

the absolute BEST through your pregnancy and delivery. always cooking your craving of the week, constant foot and back rubs, stays up all night with you for the three days before the birth when you’re just too swollen and miserable to sleep.

holds your hand through the entire delivery, gets in the doctors’ way when they’re performing checkups because “i’m her father, i need to know what’s going on”

Levi

levi never pictured himself as having children, but when your little surprise arrives, blinking up at levi with his own grey, owlish eyes, levi can’t believe he hadn’t thought of it sooner.

very easily irritated with anyone asking questions about your home life.

when his coworkers ask for your newborn’s name, levi simply says “child.” are you two trying again? “why the fuck do you need to know?”

super overprotective. your baby waves at someone in the supermarket, and levi’s leaning down to explain (in words your eight-month-old can’t yet understand) stranger danger.

totally one of those parents that goes half-crazy trying to get their child into the top-notch, snobby preschool in town.

“we’re not wasting his intelligence on the public school”

levi grew up with basically nothing, so he goes all out buying the best baby products on the market. $2,500 strollers, researching “best baby toys for development”, the whole nine yards.

100% spends months trying to get your child to make a game out of picking up his own toys after playtime, but it never works.

has a meal plan for your child to “optimize nutrition” that you have to sneak around to give your baby little chocolates and junk snacks.

“why are there pringles in his playtime bag? they have no nutritional value.”

vets anyone that comes around your child, even other children. “no more playtime with that evan kid. he’s always got a cold or something.”

he’s always been a light sleeper, but once you have your child, levi snores beside them watching kids’ cartoons on the tv like you’ve never seen him, even drooling as his head lolls, arm tucked tight around your little one.

learned everything he could about labor and delivery beforehand

you almost killed him in the delivery room as he explained each medical detail of your labor symptoms to “reassure” you. he finally got the hint when you threatened to decapitate him.

he thinks it’s shameful, but watching you be a mother turns. him. on.

wants to take you right there when he catches you breastfeeding, watches you read a bedtime story, spin your child around laughing. you’re just so naturally good at it and it makes him love you all the more, all that love going straight between his legs.

4K notes · View notes

satorhime · 1 year ago

Text

. ･｡･ right where you left me ࿐gojo satoru.

── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ content : angst, fluff, dad!gojo (reader ‘n’ gojo have a daughter), set in 2018 and 2023, reunion, beach trips, established relationship ! f!reader. ･｡･ w.c. 3.7k & not proofread.

── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ synopsis : time remains the one enemy gojo can’t defeat. ໒꒰ྀི ´ ꒳ ` ꒱ྀིა notes: ik there’s a gazillion reunion fics but this has been sitting in my drafts since oct n i suddenly felt like finishing n sharing so i hope u enjoy <333 ‘m gna go cry over this fic now ;u;

satoru is having a damn good day.

it’s suspicious, it feels like a fever dream, and he can’t really pinpoint where the dubiousness comes from. maybe it’s because he feels as if he doesn’t deserve it, like if he allows himself to relax like this something terrible will happen while he slacks off. or maybe, it’s because he’s only ever had those truly good days in his youth when he was devil may care and his concerns for the wellbeing of the world slid off his shoulders weightlessly, like sheets of rain on a rooftop. a wild and selfish kind of happiness that begun in spring and ended too quickly in winter.

but today is a good day. he forgot to charge his phone last night, he is in the best mood he’s been in all year, and he can’t stop fucking smiling. gojo satoru is thriving, on top of the world, a little bit of that nostalgic, adolescent joy warming up his chest.

and it’s all because it’s a sunny day, the water is cool, and he’s on the beach with you and his baby girl.

the three of you decided to steal away on a spontaneous trip to okinawa that forced him out of his work uniform and into swim trunks with a bare chest, simply because you burst into his office with big droplets of tears in your eyes declaring yourself a terrible mother because you realized that your daughter was already three years old and she had never seen the ocean before.

it had taken him ten minutes to book three first class tickets and secure the private family villa for the weekend, fifteen to get packed, and twenty to board after hearing that.

he would do anything to please his girls, after all.

“‘anna go into the bathtub, mama!” your baby whines impatiently from the embrace of your arms, squirming and squiggling for you to let her down as she points towards the rolling ocean waves behind you. ever since she learned how to walk, she’s lost all patience for her doting parents carrying her around— especially when something catches the attention of those big, pretty blue eyes. it didn’t take long for her to become enamored with the sea, wanting nothing more than to get out of your hold and toddle towards the shallows.

“it’s called an ‘ocean’, cupcake,” you correct her, voice full of amusement and affection as you crane your head forward to kiss the soft skin of her chubby cheek, bouncing the toddler in your arms. “too bad we’re being held hostage by dada right now.”

“i heard that,” satoru mumbles with a pout, his third melon popsicle of the day hanging from one side of his mouth. droplets of green slush drips onto the broad planes of his chest in a sticky mess as it melts but he’s wholly focused on the two of you, one summer blue eye winked closed as the other peers through the lens of the polaroid camera looped around his neck. “but wait, just one more photo of my two favorite girls!”

“you’ve been taking photos for the last twenty minutes, satoru,” you huff. “we aren’t going anywhere, you know. you don’t have to take so many.”

“our baby needs to see what the three of us looked like in our prime, before we grow old and gray together.”

“you’re so ridiculous, gojo satoru.”

but despite your exasperation, you remain put. it’s hard not to feel the same way he does on a perfect day like this— contentment, light in the heart and full of love because of this little trip. the camera focuses in on you and your daughter before the shutter clicks, each snap immortalizing the sight of you and your baby girl illuminated by the lazy autumn sun.

“and done!” he cheers, catching the polaroid in his palm as it slides from the slot. it wobbles between two of his fingers as it develops, but he can already see that it’s a perfect picture. he feels his heart sink in his chest, melting into a syrupy sweet puddle of happiness that makes him lightheaded and anxious.

oh, you’ve never looked as pretty as you do right now. like a dream, a forever kind of love he never plans to let go of. wearing that cute little swimsuit he likes so much with his sunnies perched on top of your head and his baby propped up on your supple hip. the two of you are beaming, cheeks squished together, your daughter’s hand cupping your face fondly.

it’s the kind of picture that others would coo at and fawn over if he framed it in a museum, but satoru retrieves his wallet from the pocket of his swim trunks, tucking the polaroid safely in the trifold for his own selfish keeping.

“i think she really likes the beach,” you tell him, squatting to set your daughter on her feet. she waves to you and satoru before waddling toward the shallow surf, her little legs stumbling in the thick body of sand. “this was good of you, satoru.”

“what? you think i’d miss the opportunity to spend time with my best girls?” he asks you, a hand on his chest with an affronted look on his face. you resist the urge to snort as the two of you follow closely behind your stumbling toddler, rushing towards her every time she gets distracted and attempts to eat the sand or chase one of the seagulls.

“you’ve been busy lately, that’s all,” is how you respond, the accusation washed out of your tone for the gentle words instead. you don’t bring up how many milestones, how many little memories he’s already missed, just by being who he is— that no matter what, he’ll always belong to his duty first and his family second. no, you’ve always shown patience and understanding. never complaining when his side of the bed is empty before morning or your girl requests for her father to read a bedtime story in that animated, comical way you can never replicate for her. making her settle for your offkey, wobbly lullabies instead.

“i know,” he says quietly, suddenly serious— keeping one eye on your baby girl who is currently splashing her hands around in the sand and water. “one of my first year’s a vessel so the curses are getting more pesky. i don’t think that’s a coincidence.”

“you think something’s about to happen?” you ask, looking up at him, but he presses a kiss to your temple and you wrinkle your nose at the sticky feeling of his lips.

“nah,” he replies, and you almost roll your eyes because you know he’s lying. even though satoru has done his best to keep you hidden from his world, you’re no fool. you already know why he rarely comes home at night, why he was absent for christmas last year, why your daughter has never met her paternal grandparents. you know that with the reappearance of several ancient cursed objects, there is thunder crackling among the clouds. “don’t worry your pretty little head about that.”

satoru turns up the volume on the waterproof boombox half-buried in the sand next to your belongings. he can’t stand your choice of music, finds it noise most of the time, but it’s the distraction the atmosphere needs to throw off your questioning. he pulls you to sit down between his legs, your back pressed against his chest and his arms wrapped around your body.

ocean foam splashes against the tips of your toes as the two of you sit at the surf of the tide in peaceful silence, time getting away from you both in the warm sun as your baby girl plays, her energy endless— waddling around and squealing at the different curiosities and wonders the beach has to offer.

whatever will happen, satoru won’t allow it to be today.

“satoru,” you call after a long quiet, craning your neck to look up at him. “if you—”

“what, you think i’m gonna croak sometime soon?” he shoots back, already knowing where the conversation is heading. so he holds you tighter, his strong arms a protective cage around your body as his shades slide down the attractive slope of his nose. he cracks a grin at you, another obvious deflection because he knows you can’t resist when he looks at you that way. not with his hair mussed from humidity, a strip of sunscreen on his nose as he chews on that damn wooden stick from his ice pop earlier.

“i know what you’re doing,” you shake your head. “and it’s not working. i’m just worried, i’m allowed to, as your wife. you think you’re invincible but if something happens to you that’ll… it’ll—” it will break us.

satoru’s smile fades, but he thankfully doesn’t need to reply because your daughter is waddling up to the both of you now, her sand-caked hands full of seashells and stones that glimmer in the sunlight. he wants to scoff because if anyone understands the consequences of failing those you love, it’s him— it’s all he’s ever known.

“what ya got there, princess?”

“fish—!” she cries in her sweet, babyish voice. some of the shells tumble from her hands, and you watch as her expression switches from happiness to dismay to finally confusion. you have to bite your lip to hold back laughter when instead of picking them back up, she dumps the rest of the seashells in your lap. “now i don’t have any fish.”

“i think those are seashells, princess,” gojo says with a grin, picking up a shell that rests on top of your thigh and holding it up to the sunlight. “this shell looks like it belongs to a hermit crab, like your megumi-nii.”

“you’re a terrible influence on our daughter, you know.”

“i’m just setting up future dynamics, angel face,” he grins.

“look look look!” your daughter gasps, bringing your attentions back to her. “this swee-shell looks like dada—!” she squeals excitedly, her new finding held delicately in her little sand-covered palm. she stands up on your thighs to reach her father sitting behind you, holding an iridescent blue seashell next to gojo’s eyes, her tiny mind comparing the colors in wonder. meanwhile, satoru wears a smile that burns so wide it hurts his cheeks.

“it looks like you too, princess,” he boops her nose, gently taking the seashell and holding it to her eyes next. her answering giggles sound like a sweet bell calling him home to heaven, but he can’t answer it because there are two people on this earth who laugh and smile at him like he hung the moon and painted the stars. “if you put it in your pocket now, the ocean won’t call the cops on you for stealing it.”

“no, this one ‘s for dada,” she insists, shoving the pretty blue seashell back into his hand.

“thank you, my mini angel,” he ruffles her hair, and you smile softly at the little exchange because though she may be enamored with her new discoveries at the beach, her father will always be one of her favorite wonders of the world.

“i ‘anna go find one for mama now!” she announces, and you wonder how she hasn’t run out of energy yet, but you nod and stand to your feet, dusting the sand away from the bottom of your swimsuit. your baby’s entire hand curls around your pointer finger, and she pulls you along with great effort.

you glance back at satoru and find that he’s watching the two of you head closer to the water, that uncharacteristically genuine smile still on his face, and you part your lips to call him to your side— where he’s always supposed to be.

“you didn’t think we’d let you slack off, did you? finding seashells is serious business, satoru!” you tease, pretty eyes crinkling with unbridled happiness, haloed by the waning sun and the orange dreamsicle sky that holds it. “hurry up!”

“wait for me just a little while, i’m coming to you,” he calls back, a lopsided grin spreading across his mouth before he raises the polaroid camera to his face, snapping one last candid photo of the two of you before he jogs towards his little piece of heaven.

but he doesn’t think he’s imagining things when the distance between heaven and earth keeps growing further and further apart—

“satoru, you can’t stand outside forever,” your voice is gentle as it speaks behind him, your hand laid delicately on his back in comfort; breaking the sorcerer out of deep reverie, the edges of the old memory fading, replaced by the pink paint of his daughter’s bedroom door that he’s been standing in front of for the last thirty minutes. his thumb brushes over the polaroid in his hand, the one that had been his salvation and his undoing in the prison realm. he’d taken it out without knowing, his eyes reading over the date written in his handwriting.

october 30, 2018

the picture of you with your daughter on your hip that he took at the beach all those years ago— that had been the last time he’d seen her.

four, no, five years?

his feet are nailed to the floor because change makes satoru shut down, and everything has changed since then.

while time was immeasurable and immovable inside of the prison realm for him, the clock had ticked on outside of it and just like that, his little girl is no longer three years old, giving him seashells that matches his eyes or hitting the back of his ankles with her big wheel or—

“you can’t keep doing this to yourself,” you sigh. “you’ve been unsealed for months. you’re her father, no matter what.”

“i’m a stranger to her,” and to you, but he doesn’t say it. you had waited for him, in every aspect of the word. held out on hope and faith in his strength that he would return to your side, where he’s always supposed to be.

“you’re n—” but you’re cut off when the door opens to reveal your daughter standing on the other side. the child standing before him is almost unrecognizable. she’s much taller and older, wearing track pants underneath her school dress with ribbons in unruly waves of white hair. the last time he’d seen his daughter, she had been three years old and still learning things like colors and sight words and that feeding megumi’s demon dogs her vegetable purée was against the rules. now, gojo satoru was the father of an eight year old and he’d missed everything because of a mista—

“you can come in,” she says, blinking up at satoru with an expression void of emotion. “but i’m not finished with my homework so if you stay too long, you’ll bug me.”

“how did you know i was outside?” he whistles nonchalantly, unbothered by the attitude that she gives him. it fills him with bitter satisfaction that she isn’t excited to see him, that someone is angry that he failed, regardless if he won in the end. he can handle bratty children who hate him and only look at him as a tool for their success, he can’t handle a daughter who cried herself to sleep every night waiting for him while he was losing his sanity away in a cube.

or at least, that’s what he tells himself.

“i could see you and mama through the door, duh,” she replies, hip cocked to the side in an amount of sass she had to pick up from you. “mama says i have your eyesight. i don’t really get it, but it makes it easy to cheat on tests.”

he could see it in the bright blue of her eyes, even if she hadn’t confirmed it. plain as daylight, she’s exactly like he was at that age. easily irritable and bratty, cocky and spoiled rotten. suffering from the weight of being an uncontested heir to an ancient dynasty at the age of elementary.

“i used six eyes to cheat on tests too,” he relates with pride, and then he bends down to her height, waving his palm. “sooo you probably got some questions about where i was—”

“not really. grandfather said you were sealed because you’re foolish and let weakness distract you.”

“you shouldn’t say things like that,” you scold, “apologize.”

“why? i don’t want to.”

your daughter turns, disappearing back into her room after that and seeming like she doesn’t care if satoru follows or not. your hand travels up the long expanse of satoru’s back in a soothing circle as you step closer.

“huh, that’s new.”

“sorry, she’s… i don’t know if acting out is the right term,” you say, pain in your voice. “she doesn’t really understand why she’s so different, or why you were … gone for so long. i know you didn’t want her around your family so i kept her away as best i could, but she started to have crippling migraines because she didn’t know how to use her ability and well… they were the only ones who knew how to help. filled her head with foolishness every time she visited the estate, though and it’s changed her.”

“huh,” is all he says, a broken record, tongue running across his inner lip in thought.

“do you need me?”

“what, you think i can’t handle her?”

“well, you were outside the door for a half hour, ‘toru.”

he shoots you a lopsided grin before he’s stepping into his daughter’s bedroom, glancing around at the unfamiliarity of it all. you follow close behind, watching with a heavy heart as he takes in the difference eight years can make.

her tiny baby crib has been traded for a poster bed decorated with a sanrio duvet and various stuffed animals where a laptop and study papers lay scattered on top. the angel themed decorations, along with her first ultrasound photo you and satoru had hung up in her nursery had been replaced by pink paint and pictures of her with a group of friends from school and a photo of her on a volleyball team.

he has to rip his gaze away.

“so,” he starts, standing in the center of the room and trying not to feel like an intruder, desperate for something to say— something to relate to her with. “how many episodes did i miss? did aya-chan ever get married?”

“i’m too old to play with dolls now, father,” she huffs, scrunching up her nose, and though satoru expected that exact answer, it doesn’t stop his heart from shattering into a million pieces. he feels that familiar itch, anger welling in his body until it burns at his fingertips because this is no one’s fault but his own. “don’t you know anything about me?”

“my bad, you’re a big kid now,” he snorts, even as his chest aches. he sits on the edge of her bed, flipping up one edge of the coloring book laying next to her laptop. “maybe you should start paying taxes.”

“i’m also too young to pay taxes. you really don’t know anything about me anymore,” she snaps, and she’s right— he doesn’t and it burns like saltwater on a wound. now he knows why you asked if he needed you; he’d hide behind you if he could, but he settles for flickering his eyes up to you helplessly.

you realize that neither of you can be upset with her for being angry that one of her favorite people vanished out of thin air. that while he was sealed, his clan had taken advantage of his absence and your powerlessness against them, and had begun spoiling your child rotten, teaching her how to use her ability— plumping her up for the inevitable day that she becomes her father’s successor, turning her against him.

“i think,” you say softly, leaning against the frame of the door. “that your dada— your father— would like to learn, though. he’s missed a lot, baby.”

she considers this for a long while, then she heaves a great sigh, hackles lowering. she scoots off the bed and before satoru can feel the hurt of figuring she doesn’t want to be near him, she does something unexpected. she moves one of her trophies out of the way to open her closet door, rummaging around for the longest before she yanks out a cardboard box you had labeled ‘donate one day since my snotty kid is a hag now’— it’s a box full of old dolls, covered in dust. she sits on her knees in front of the box, peering inside.

“aya-chan didn’t get married, but hinata-chan did,” she explains with an exasperated sigh and a roll of her eyes, taking out the dolls one by one and setting them on the floor in front of satoru’s feet.

“to the mailman that lived in your ugliest dollhouse?”

“you remember,” her eyes widen a little in surprise before her expression shutters again, smoothing out the doll’s colorful polyester dress before reaching back into the box and retrieving a brush covered in synthetic hairs. she looks at it for a while before extending her arm and offering the brush to her father. “aya-chan decided to be independent and explore the world. she’s planning to go on a trip soon so she needs to get ready. do y’wanna brush her hair?”

satoru is sliding off the bed and sitting cross-legged on the floor before he knows it, barely wanting to breathe because he doesn’t want to shatter the fragility of the moment between them. he takes the brush, and seconds later she hands him one of the dolls that had once upon a time been her favorite one that no one was allowed to touch. you would giggle at the delicate way he brushes the doll’s hair with utmost care and precision if you weren’t about to cry at the scene instead. “oh, and where’s she headed?”

“okinawa.”

“ponytail or messy bun then?” you don’t think you’re imagining the wobble in his voice. “to compliment her swimsuit.”

a tiny, hopeful smile twinkles over your lips at the two of them on the floor, babbling away to each other about the outlandish stories they’ve created together with her dolls. how many times had you offered to play with her, only for her to burst into tears because it wasn’t the same? you know that this won’t bridge the gap between the years that have been lost, but it’s a start. just hearing the soft murmurs of their conversation, the sound of your little girl giggling for the first time in ages, makes your heart swell.

time may be an undefeated opponent, and with it comes change that no one can control, but something tells you that as long as the three of you are together— everything will be okay.

you tiptoe out of the room, because they need time to catch up and apologize and reconnect, to learn one another once more, but before you close the door, you don’t think you’re mistaken when you hear, “can we go back to the beach too, dada?”

#little novels.#jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jjk angst #gojo fluff #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojo angst

4K notes · View notes

heartfullofleeches · 6 months ago

Text

Moonlight Waves

Yan Alien Human Guy Person + Jellyfish Hybrid Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: None, pure fluff

“If you put some thought into it…The ocean and space have a lot in common.”

Vast, boundless frontiers- Depths and reach never to be fully unveiled to the eyes of man. All imposing surfaces blanketing both heaven and earth. Two opposing bodies that on nights just like this might align, conjoined by midnight and the luminous orb mirrored upon them both. The full moon was a blessed companion for those who found themselves alone on eves similar to this- Solace and guidance found in her radiance.

“Whelp- Guess it's time to throw myself.”

Wiser folk have said desperate times call for desperate measures- While there were lesser extremes he could have gone to, this seemed like the quickest solution to their predicament. Twenty-four years on this planet and they had still yet to conquer the strenuous feat that was learning how to swim. His mothers were gentle in their upbringing- Apparently too gentle as they never pressured their child into braving the horrors of the swimming pool. On one hand, the biggest factor to their child's fear may have been the fact that it was their neighbor’s pool - and it'd be quite difficult to explain the eerie glow to their toddler's tears and the stains they left on clothing.

They were fine with it early on, but as he grew - Alien realized how much he was missing out on being unable to swim. Most humans know how to swim by their age anyway which would give less credit to his claims of an earth born and raised member of the population….Which they were regardless of whether or not they knew how to swim.

Alien squares his shoulders, testing the binds of numerous weights anchoring various parts of their body. Unsatisfied with the distribution, he plucks a stone from the moist sand surrounding his legs - unfastening the velcro of their right breast pocket and adding it to the collection. A horde of trinkets ranging from shells to stones to a couple marbles crowded each pocket from the vest they wore down to the swimming trunks they purchased for the occasion. So what if his body was more buoyant than the average human being- requiring additional weight to avoid floating off into the endless sea. Alien had always been a scrawny person-

“That should be enough- Wait…Is that?”

Srounging for more space to stuff the final stone, a gentle glow envelopes their fingertips following a faint- snap! Alien pushes the rocks and shells aside, wrestling the shining band from beneath them with minimal effort.

*Jackpot! I thought I used all of these already. With this baby on, I'm definitely ready for this. Wish me luck up here!”

Alien gazes up at the moon as they slip the glow-stick bracelet onto their arm. It's the last thing they see as their legs carry the rest of them towards the end of the cliff. Had it not been a full moon or the sky so clear- tonight may have gone different for them. They could've swallowed their pride, and went to bed with intentions to sign up for the nearest swim class come morning. Realistically, Alien knew he'd never go through with that plan, but it was nice in theory. Safer too-

Head lost in the cloudless sky, Alien yelps as the ground is swept from beneath them - their screams swiftly snuffed by gallons of water as they're dragged into a plummet off the cliff's edge. Their body connects with the sea, pockets of air bubbling to the surface from the force at which they collide. The oxygen escaping him would have been alarming - had they any need for it. Whether they could hold their breath or their biology simply skipped the stage where their lungs depended on air was a secret they'd take to the grave.

Sinking fast, Alien realizes what some might call a flaw in their ingenious plan.

Perhaps, just maybe, they potentially added too much weight for them to claw their way back to the surface.

…

Ah well.

Since they're already down here, there's no harm in exploring. Hard to see much beyond the gleam of their jewelry dangling freely around their wrist, but they dig the vibe of it all - drifting weightlessly without aim or reason. The deeper they dove, the brighter the natural fluorescence of their skeleton bled through their skin. Alien had heard of a condition that made people's skin slightly yellow before. Surely the green glow of their bones had to be in the same family. The shine widens their range of sight. By now, it was hard to decipher which way they were facing. The moon had long since faded from view….

Oh, wait. There it is..

….

Is it?

Stranging their eyes through the blackened depths of the ocean, Alien can clearly make something out miles away from them - shrouded by a halo of light. It almost mimics their guideless descent - floating off course before gradually aligning itself in a mostly linear ascent towards them. That alone was enough evidence whatever they were looking at was not the moon. The fluctuation of its surface and the four, almost crescent shaped markings atop only served as further proof. Inch by inch, as the space between them grew narrow, Alien could make out more of its features. Flowing tendrils, a pair of arms floating freely at its sides, a face adorned with a dopey smile.

Face to face, the near angelic like figure raises one of its hands - waving its fingers at the unfamiliar face within its territory. Alien’s eyes tighten from the phosphorescence of the creature's skin. Ignoring the sting, Alien lifts his own hand, mirroring the entity’s motions. The corners of its smile peak higher upon its face, head following the dim glow of their bracelet. The lightly draws focus to the stones bulging from his pockets. The creature's grin falters into tight lipped confusion.

“Hey…Hey!”

Alien struggles to make a sound as its hands paw at the straps of their pockets. Successfully tearing the sleeve open, the creature yanks out every rock, every shell- It pauses briefly to marvel at the eye of the marbles in Alien's pocket before shoving them beneath the cap of their head as they continue. Depleting their vest of its contents was all it took to send Alien on their upwards rise towards the surface. The angel waves again before swimming its way to the top, gliding gracefully as a true angel would through the sky. It grabs onto Alien's wrist, tugging him along with them as he apparently took too long for their liking.

Alien could only watch on in awe as the darkness peeled away - moonlight adding on to the ethereal, otherworldly glimmer that was this being and its flesh. Could this be Alien's first encounter with an extraterrestrial? There was no possible way a creature of this radiance was from earth. They just couldn't be-

The creature releases their hold on Alien's wrist as they breach air. Alien finds himself searching for their touch, and another item he appeared to be missing. The angel, the only term Alien found fit for them, wandered towards the shore without him- back facing the sand as they spun a glowing band around their finger. Alien channels the knowledge of every training video they viewed before their trip as they doggy paddle in the general direction of the shore. Thankfully, there was still enough weight in their shorts to keep them perfectly balanced between drifting off and going under.

The energy is depleted from their very soul by the time they reach their destination. The angel sits with its lower half still bathed by the oncoming tide, rolling a marble through the crystalized sand. It throws its arm into the air as Alien appears.

The angel waves. Alien, running on fumes and the strange heartache that would come from not reciprocating their kind gesture- waves back.

The angel helps Alien sit upright, returning the marbles they had borrowed back into the land dweller’s pocket from which they can. Alien fishes out of the marble they saw the angel toy with and gives it back to them.

“Keep that one… So- you got a name?”

The angel’s mouth falls open in a “O” of both surprise and honor at the present. They brush the sand smooth before rolling the marble through it once more. Inspecting their craft, Alien can make out letters the further along the angel continues.

“Y/n? That's your name?”

You clap your hands in praise, sound and ferocity increased by the wetness of your palms. Cute.

“You, uh, come here often?”

The point of your finger towards the water states the obvious fact that you live here. A murmur akin to laughter slips past your lips at that one.

“You got me there… The sea’s pretty big, though. What I'm asking is can I see you again?”

You tap a finger to your chin in thought, head dipping towards the bracelet now hanging from your own wrist. You point to it, hope and wonder present in your grin.

“You like the bracelet? You can keep that too. I can bring you more if that's what you're asking.”

Clapping again, you latch onto Alien's side - merging your fingers with theirs as you hold them both to the sky. Moonlight pours through your skin and theirs, transparency muddled by the existence of their bones. Your head falls to their chest- a whisper so quiet they almost missed it.

“Like me…”

They're glad that they didn't.

#alien my oc #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere #yandere headcanons #yandere x you #yandere scenarios #yandere blurb #yandere insert #yandere fluff #yandere drabble

306 notes · View notes

theamberfist · 5 months ago

Text

Sink or Swim | Stolas x Reader

Romantic! Stolas x Swim Instructor! Reader

Description: When Stolas signed his baby daughter, Octavia up for swim lessons, he never expected to like her new instructor so much

(Notes:) (gender neutral reader) (reader is a sinner) (reader is baby Octavia's swim teacher)

Words: 1,640

❀ Fun fact: I've taught parent-infant swim lessons IRL so all the exercises shown in this are real ones we use with infants ❀

Stolas frowned as he pushed open the door to the building in front of him; unable to help the slight nervous feeling that bloomed in his chest. He supposed there should have been no cause for concern, considering he was a prince of hell and easily one of the strongest beings in this ring, but it wasn't as if he'd ever done something like this before.

He readjusted his arms, where Octavia rested on his hip sleepily. On a normal day, she would have been napping at home now, but not for much longer. He'd specifically chosen this time because he knew that, once she woke up, she would be as active as ever. Stolas reminded himself that this was for her sake, not his; he could hold his head up high for her, just as he always did.

When he entered, the imp at the front desk looked up from his work and his eyes widened slightly. "Prince Stolas..." He managed before finally clearing his throat and regaining his composure, "Right, we were expecting you." Though, something told the owl prince they hadn't actually thought he'd make good on his plans and come in.

"The toddler pool has already been reserved, and your instructor is waiting for you there," the imp went on to explain as he checked their names off on a clipboard, "I'll let them know you've arrived."

"Thank you." Stolas nodded awkwardly before turning and heading through the locker rooms to the pools. Though he could have simply signed Via up for regular lessons, he'd decided a private one would be better for the sake of them both. He wasn't aware that meant they'd reserve an entire pool for them, however small, but at least this way, he would have fewer paparazzi to deal with.

Finally, he reached the pool deck, seeing that the whole facility only had a few people in it right now. There was a large lap swimming pool in front of him, as well as a splash pad to his right and the toddler pool to his left. When he looked over, there was already someone sitting on the side with their feet in the water as they waited. They wore a red swimsuit with the word 'lifeguard' printed in white, leading him to believe this was the instructor the imp at the front desk had mentioned.

He made his way over to the toddler pool as Octavia began stirring in his arms now. It was a good thing he'd already gotten her into her swimsuit, or he would have had a hard time getting her to sit still long enough for it now.

Upon hearing them come over, you looked up and smiled, setting the clipboard you'd been holding on the side of the pool.

"Hello!" You called, "Here for the parent-child swim lesson?" Stolas nodded and you stepped out of the barely knee-deep pool to come over to him. To his surprise, you seemed to be a sinner, rather than an imp or hellhound like he'd expected. Your appearance differed from them greatly, and there was an energy about you that told him you had to be a human soul.

You smiled and introduced yourself. "I'll be teaching our class every week," you explained, "If anything is too difficult or uncomfortable for you two as we get started, please let me know. Private lessons means I have a little more flexibility in what we do." You winked at the last part, and though it made the prince's heart beat quicker, he was fairly certain you just meant it playfully.

"Anyway, who is this little one?" You asked, turning to the little owlet in his arms, whose big round eyes were staring up at you.

"This is my daughter, Octavia," Stolas replied, immediately relaxing now that the topic of conversation had changed, "She's about a year old; I hope that's alright!" You waved him off.

"That's perfect," you said, gently reaching out towards the baby, "I've worked with kids much older and much younger than this." Octavia's tiny hand grabbed one of your fingers and you smiled kindly before looking up at her father. "And you're Prince Stolas, right?" He blinked.

"Just Stolas is fine!"

You nodded before removing your hand from the owlet's grip and standing up straighter. "Well, if you're ready, then we can get started." You said, that professional air returning to you, "I was thinking we'd have her in the shallow area to start with and ease her into slightly deeper waters." Stolas nodded, setting his bag down on a pool chair and then following you to the water.

Now that you'd been properly introduced, Octavia was eager to follow after you, and he held her little hands as she stepped into the shallowest area of the pool. You giggled, encouraging her along the way.

Once she stood so that the water was up to her knees, you brought out a dive toy and placed it on the pool floor, asking her to reach down and grab it to get her a little closer to the water. Stolas sat by her as she did so with ease, and then you moved the toy slightly deeper.

He admired how much energy you seemed to have with his owlet, as well as how kind you were to her. Your soft voice and easy patience was a stark contrast to Octavia's mother; that was for sure. The two of you watched her repeatedly pick the dive toy up from increasingly deeper as if she had no care in the world.

Finally, he broke the quietness between you two as you congratulated Octavia at another job well done. "Do you often teach lessons here?" He asked a little awkwardly, "I haven't seen many human souls in this ring of hell before." You smiled and nodded.

"Yeah, I teach almost all the lessons we offer here," you replied, moving Via's dive toy again, "It's the same job I had while I was alive, and I guess it's the only thing I've really found that I'm good at."

Stolas couldn't argue with that. Usually, Octavia was much more timid around water than this. She wouldn't even go in it at all if he wasn't holding her hand the whole time. With you, though, she was so enthusiastic that she hadn't even noticed the lack of touch. It was like he'd brought a different baby to the pool altogether today.

"I see," he replied with a nod, smiling down at his daughter, who was happily splashing some of the water. "Do you have any children of your own?" You shook your head.

"Nope, I mostly kept to myself while I was alive- and, I guess, while I've been dead, too." You shrugged, "But when I found out how few kids in my neighborhood knew how to swim, I started doing lessons to keep them a little safer."

Stolas nodded, wondering if it would have been too much to hope that 'keeping to yourself' meant you didn't have a spouse or partner, either.

"If you're ready, we can move to the deeper water exercises." You changed the subject now and the prince nodded, placing a reluctant Octavia back on his hip and bringing her towards the deeper pool nearby. There, you helped him perform the next exercise, which consisted of him resting the owlet's head on his shoulder and trying to get her to kick her legs as he moved her through the water on her back. She was less enthusiastic about that, but you were quick to think; holding a toy up so her focus would shift.

That calmed her down a lot, and soon enough she was kicking her legs happily as she giggled at you. "Do you get many attendees to your lessons?" Stolas asked in an attempt to strike up a conversation with you again, "I know those who died and ended up here aren't at as much risk of drowning." You nodded.

"That's why I work here," you smiled, "People in the pride ring aren't really concerned about dying unless it's at the hands of angels. I still think water safety is important, though."

The prince couldn't argue there. After all, that was why he'd signed Octavia up for these lessons. That, and he'd thought it would be nice for the two of them to get out of the house together for an activity.

"Then I applaud you for your work!" He replied, "I'm sure many hellborn children can be quite difficult to teach." You laughed.

"You have no idea how much hellhounds hate swimming."

The rest of the lesson went on just like that. With each new exercise, you found yourself getting that much more comfortable talking with Stolas, and vice versa. Octavia was also doing extremely well with everything you threw at her, and at this rate, you knew she'd be confidently swimming around on her own soon enough.

Finally, the lesson ended and you praised the little owl before dismissing the class and hopping out of the water. Feeling warmer than you had when you began, you grabbed your clipboard to prepare for your next class.

Stolas glanced your way as he carefully dried Octavia off. "Same time next week, then?" He asked with a grin and you nodded.

"I'll be looking forward to it!" He didn't say anything, but inside, he knew he would be too. Just as he was grabbing his bag to leave, you came over and handed him a small piece of paper. The owl prince raised an eyebrow.

"My number," you explained with a smile, "just in case." He nodded at that, feeling his heart flutter as he placed the paper in his pocket, and then you waved them both off as they left.

It seemed he'd gotten more enjoyment out of these little swim lessons than expected, and he couldn't wait to come back.

#helluva boss #helluva stolas #helluvaboss #stolas helluva boss #helluva boss stolas #stolas #stolas goetia #stolas x reader #stolas x you #helluva boss fanfiction #helluva boss x reader #helluva boss x you #helluva boss x y/n #helluva boss stolas x reader

249 notes · View notes

shadowsndaisies · 5 months ago

Text

iceman's final flight

WC: 3.3k

synopsis: ice's funeral, as you can imagine, is painful and heartwrenching

main masterlist

athena-verse master post

a/n: the brain rot my friends is absolutely insane.

You never liked wearing your full-service dress uniform. The whites meant shipping off, and the blacks always seemed so morose. And wearing it for Tom Kazansky's funeral, well, it was difficult to even get it on. Honestly, if Jake hadn't knocked on your door, you're not sure you would've been able to do it.

But he did.

He stood, fully dressed, and didn't say anything when he saw you still in your pajamas. Simply squeezed into your barrack and directed you to the shower. When you came out, he had your service dress laid out on your bed. he waited, back turned while you put them on, and then sat you down and did your hair. You focused on him while he did. The careful movements, the gentle brushes. You knew he had a sister, but this was much more of Jake than of Hangman.

He didn't ask you about it, even though you know he probably wanted to. He knew that your dad had been close with Ice; they'd been in the same Top Gun class, and that was all he needed to know for now.

So he helped you get ready.

He gave you a protein bar because he knew you wouldn't eat anything otherwise; quite frankly, you weren't sure you could stomach even that, but he patiently waited, watching, making sure you ate something. The blank look in your eyes was alarming because in the years he'd known you now, he'd seen your eyes get glassy with nostalgia, sadness, and heartbreak. He's witnessed the fire from anger, ferocity, and challenge; he's melted at your softness, your light; and been in awe of your mischievous streak, and cunning mind. He's never seen this, though, the blank dis-attached expression.

He guided you to the atrium where the rest of the recalled aviators were meeting before you'd all participate in the procession to the burial site. Hand pressed to your back, as you seemed to disassociate with everything around you.

Your dad was already on site when you arrived. Staring at the photo of Ice, and while he looked every inch the PACFLEET Commander that he was, you much preferred the collection of photos that you had. Polaroids and film shots from you as a toddler on his shoulders or in his lap, the collection that grew with each of your father's deployments spent in his home, of barbecues and beach days. This man helped raise you. He filled in the role of father when yours was on a deployment. He signed permission slips and stayed up with you that first night of every deployment when you were too anxious to sleep.

Goose had been your godfather, the one who you would go to if something ever happened to Mav, and then Goose was the one who was gone. And Mav changed the papers. He changed it because how could he place that pressure on Carole when she's battling her heartbreak and raising Bradley? Ice and Sarah were the ones who would assume you if he took his last flight before you were old enough to take care of yourself.

When your dad spotted you, he waved you over. You felt Jake's hand at your back reassuringly before you left the rest of the team.

Approaching your dad, you notice who is next to him, and you have to fight to not break down at the sight of Aunt Sarah.

"Ma'am," your voice cracked as you stood at attention.

There were tears in her eyes as she looked at you, "Stop, no," she corrected, arm grabbing you. "You're our girl, remember? I don't want Ma'am's, not from you, never from you," her whispers bring more tears to your eyes, and your vision swims as you try to breathe through it.

"Lieutenant Mitchell," you straighten at Cyclone's voice and turn to him. "A word before we begin," he calls, and you nod. "Apologies, Mrs. Kazansky, for the interruption.”

You squeeze Aunt Sarah's hand before walking over to the Vice Admiral, "Yes Sir," you respond, standing at attention.

"The Kazansky family has made a request," he begins, and you swallow the lump in your throat.

"Sir?" you ask.

"Mrs. Kazansky, has indicated that following the conclusion of TAPS, she would like the flag presented to her children," he explains.

"I'm sorry, Sir. But it was my understanding that you would be presenting the flag?" you finally ask, though your voice lacks its normal luster.

"In his instructions, Tom Kazansky requested that you present the flag to his family, Lieutenant," Cyclone says, and you freeze.

He did what?

Your eyes meet the Vice Admirals, and you're not sure how to react or what to say.

"Do you accept this final order from former PACFLEET Commandar Tom Kazansky, Lieutenant?" he presses when you stay silent too long.

"Sir, yes, Sir," you affirm.

"Good. You will honor his flag, Lieutenant, assume your position," he nods to the space where you assumed he would have been, but you nod your head in affirmation.

"Yes, Sir," you repeat.

He nods once more, a look in his eyes, but doesn't say anything else, instead walking away. You took a moment to breathe, then you turned and assumed the position across from Cyclone. Your eyes focused for a moment on the coffin in front of you. The resting place for the man who helped raise you. You swallowed the lump in your throat again and then assumed a position at attention. You made eye contact with your dad, who nodded at you with glassy eyes, with Natasha, who offered a sad smile in support, with Jake, whose expression was nearly unreadable but whose eyes were focused entirely on you, and finally with Bradley, who looked like he was in a similar boat, keeping back tears and swallowing the distress in his throat. He was so much bigger, so much older than when his mom passed, but his tells hadn't changed all that much. You focus on him for a moment, and despite the rift, the still uneven footing you both have with each other, there's something there in this moment, brought on by the man who loved you both the way he loved his own kids.

When TAPS began, a chill went down your spine, a finality of what it all meant settled over you, and a tear escaped. You sniffed but remained silent. Warlock was on your left, and Cyclone was across you. You followed the motions, folded the flag, and when the ends were tucked in, you approached Aunt Sarah. She nodded with a sad smile, and you continued, stopping beside Ryan and Elizabeth. Ryan and Elizabeth, who had been your younger siblings, who you love so much, and who you used to play with in their playpens. Ryan and Elizabeth who were both married with their own kids now. They looked so incredibly sad, but as they stared at you, Elizabeth started shaking her head like she couldn't believe this was happening. And when you held out your hands, flag proffered. Ryan's hands clenched, but he waited for Elizabeth. When he looked at you for help, you cast a sideways glance at Aunt Sarah, who was crying silently now.

"Lizzie," you whisper, and Ryan's eyes blow wide.

Talking was not a part of the process, especially informally, not when presenting honors to a grieving family, but this was your family, too.

"Lizzie, take the flag," you whisper again, and this time she meets your eyes, and you nod encouragingly at her. "Take the flag, kid," you repeat, and this time, she uses one hand to hold her brothers as she accepts the flag. Ryan's other hand supports it, and if you squeeze his hand gently as you hand it off, no one else needs to realize it except him.

You step back and salute the Kazansky family, and your father steps up to do his part. His wingman until the end, you watched, arm still raised, as your father approached the head of the casket and placed the aviation wings at the head, pounding it into the casket.

His final flight.

The sound of the pin pounded in place and echoed in your ears long after the jets of salute and the sound of TAPS.

When it was over, and the civilians began to walk away, you moved to fall in line with the aviators. A space had appeared beside Bradley and Hondo. You swallowed as you stepped into it. You could feel his eyes on you as you did.

When the call for dismissal was stated, your whole body seemed to sag a bit, tired, strung out, and heartbroken.

"(Y/n)-" Bradley's the one who said your name so softly, so broken, that you almost caved. You almost caved and launched yourself at him the way you would have in the past.

Almost.

Because Ryan and Elizabeth were walking straight up to you at the same time, calling you with a wavering, "Miss Mitchell," the tone nearly reminiscent of when you were kids.

"Kid Kazansky," you greet in kind, matching his tone.

"Is it bad form to hug you now?" Elizabeth asks though she doesn't really wait; instead, she lunges at you.

You rock back a bit and feel Bradley's arm steady you before it retreats.

"Never bad form for a Lizzie hug," you whisper, and she sobs a little.

"Bradley?" Ryan's surprise is evident as he stares at the man beside you. His eyes jumped at you and then Bradley like he couldn't figure out the puzzle before him, not that you blamed him; you were having a hard time, too.

"Wait, Brad?" Lizzie asks, turning to catch as Ryan and Brad shake hands.

"You two grew up," he notes sadly.

"Well you'd know-" you pinch at Lizzie's side, she had a smart mouth, something Ice and Sarah liked to blame on you, but now was not the time, and this was not the place.

Elizabeth huffed but stepped aside to stare at Bradley, and he stood and took it while Ryan stepped up and hugged you. If he squeezed tight, you squeezed back, and when he pulled back, you could see today's toll on him.

The Kazansky kids have been prepared for this day from the moment Ice was diagnosed, maybe even earlier when you consider all the deployments, but just because it was a possibility, the reality of it was painful to experience and to witness.

"Mom wants to know if you're able to come to dinner tonight, she said to add she's not afraid to pull the grieving widow card," Ryan asks, and you smile ruefully.

"I-" you begin, but Lizzie cuts in.

"We understand, though, if it won't work," she reassures you. "Dad mentioned some special detachment as the reason you were back for a bit," she admits.

"Time sensitive and top secret," Ryan supplies, and you frown at them.

"When'd you two get so smart?" you ask with a frown, bringing a small watery chuckle out of Aunt Sarah, who'd finally walked over herself.

"Probably around the same time you did, sweetheart," she says gently, taking your face in her hands.

"I am so proud of you," she begins, and the tears reappear in an instant.

"Aunt Sarah-" you try to stop her, all too aware of how the rest of the detachment is unabashed in witnessing this moment.

"I am so incredibly proud of you, Lieutenant Mitchell, but I am even more proud of (Y/n)," she begins again. "And he was too. He was so, so proud of you. And folding the flag, it was unfair of him to ask that of you, but I am so proud of you and so grateful that it was you handing it off, holding his honor," she says, and you break.

A sob slips past your lips, and she pulls you forward and presses a kiss to your forehead, mindful of your cap. "I will see you at dinner, Lieutenant. It's perfectly alright if you're late. We've spent a lifetime on the Navy's clock; we can last another day," she says finally, and you nod. "Good, bring your dad," she adds as an afterthought.

"Yes, Aunt Sarah," you nod.

"Good girl," she smiles again, still holding your face, and when she lets go, she straightens your coat, just like she did after hugging you at your graduation. She finally looks down the line at the aviators standing nearby. She starts with Bradley, directly on your left, "You too Bradley Bradshaw, I expect to see you at dinner, and I demand one song, any song," she says forcefully, staring hard until he nods his affirmation at her, lips sealed shut.

She looks down the line; you know she recognizes Yale and Harvard from when you were in Top Gun originally; the two had become your guests for poker nights and barbecues. She turns back to you, "Bring all twelve of them," she finally decides, and you hear the intake of breath beside you.

"Aunt Sarah-" you begin.

"Let's teach them who he really was, huh?" she says softly, and you nod.

"Yes, Ma'am," you agree.

She smiles, tapping your cheek one last time before turning to her kids. Each loops an arm with her, and they walk back toward their cars. The second they're away, you sag fully, all but ripping your cap off, breathing too fast; you know you are.

Bradley reaches for you first, but you flinch away, and he freezes. Nat's calling your name, and the rest of the team is lining up around you protectively. The first set of eyes you meet are green. Jake. Slowly, he shows you his hands, and one starts at your shoulder, skims down your arm, and takes your hand, pulling it into his chest.

"C'mon, 'Thena," he whispers softly, "five senses," he adds, and you nod jerkily.

Five things you can see: green eyes, Jake's ribbons, Bradley still hovering beside you, the grass, the jet trail in the sky

four things you can touch: Jake's dress shirt, the cufflink of Jake's coat, his hand, which is holding yours in place, the chain of your dog tags around your neck.

Three things you can hear: distant chattering of all the funeral attendees, Jake's gentle affirmations, Hondo on the phone

Two things you can smell: Bradley's cologne, the fresh dirt, and topsoil.

One thing you can taste is blood from where you'd bitten your lip during the ceremony.

You take a staggering breath at the end and let go of Jake, who straightens beside you and waits for your next move. He allows you a moment to continue evening out your breathing.

"Two feet on the ground, right?" he asks.

"Copy, you," you confirm.

He nods, satisfied by your response.

You finally look around at how the team had shuffled to keep you out of sight from anyone else. Yale and Harvard are sending you concerned glances as they stand guard.

"I'm fine," you tell them, waving off the concern. "I'm fine, it was just too much, at once, but, I'm fine," you say, readjusting your cap back on your head.

"Maybe you should take a minute, Athena," Bradley cuts in.

"I said I'm fine," you negate.

"Just take a breath! Do your box breathing-"

"Box breathing? Are you serious Bradley?" your tone finally loses the flat edge it's had all morning, giving way to incredulity. To his credit, his eyes blew wide at it. "Box breathing hasn't worked since I started pulling Gs regularly," you scoff. "I said, I'm fine!"

"You don't look fine!" he argues, the two of you facing off across each other now.

"And how would you know?" you challenge, voice dropping back to a reasonable level, but suddenly so cold. "How could you possibly know what fine looks like for me now?"

He freezes again; it's a direct dig, more so than any of the wave-offs you've done when he tries to talk to you since you both got reassigned.

"If Athena says she's fine, then she's fine. I'd take her at her word any day," Harvard cuts in, and you look at your friend gratefully.

"Seconded, c'mon, we can give you a lift back to base," Yale agrees, and you nod.

You spare another glance back, focusing on Jake. He nods at you, though you can see the concern in his eyes, and you nod again, turning and walking in line with Harvard and Yale.

"My saviors," you whisper to them.

"It's a hard day, and the absolute least we could do," Harvard offers.

"You're getting softer with age, Brigham," you chirp, but there's no heat behind it.

"Speaking of soft," Yale hedges, and you side-eye Logan. "Hangman knows about your anxiety attacks?"

"Not only does he know, he knows how to talk you down," Harvard supplies.

"Don't," you warn them.

"Today is hard, we know. We know it's going to be hard for a long time," Harvard back peddles.

"We just… we wanna look out for you Athena, you always did for us, you still do," Yale clarifies. "Look, Hangman's a cocky bastard-"

"I believe Phoenix was the one to coin the term Texan Douchewad," Harvard supplies.

"But," Yale sends his WSO a look, "it's obvious, he's different with you."

You were content to ignore the prodding, but Harvard stopped, handing over the passenger seat door. He planed to open it for you but pauses and holds out a hand.

"Just hold on a second, please," Harvard asks when you start glaring at him. You huff but pause. "Look, today… today sucks, but seeing him help you makes him suck slightly less in my book. You're the only person he didn't ditch during the dogfights. We assumed he was brown-nosing because Mav's your dad, but obviously there's more there. Ice was… he was so much more than PACFLEET Commander to you, we know that. We've seen what you and he were like together. I consider myself really fucking lucky that you trusted us enough to share that shit with us, and clearly Hangman knows it too, but he hasn't made a single Nepo-Baby joke the entire detachment," he lines out, and when you drop his gaze, he sighs.

"Athena, we learned day fucking one at Top Gun that you are a force and a half, we have always got your back, we just… we need to know the play is, that's all," Yale tags on.

You lift your gaze and stare at the two; Brigham and Logan were the only Aviator/WSO team that got recalled. Payback and Fanboy hadn't worked together before, nor Phoenix and Bob, or even Fritz and Halo, just them. You're stuck on how well they know each other for a second, and you are so glad they got called back, too.

"The play.. the playbook is on fire," you admit, and they share a nervous glance. "It's in a fucking dumpster fire, with jet fuel poured on top," you tell them, and they wince. "But, the plan is we go back to base, we finish the day, we go to dinner. I'll probably cry my fucking eyes out, so hopefully, one of you will bring tissues, and then tomorrow we go back to work because Ice died, but the clock doesn't stop, and he'd be pissed if I let Jake or Bradley make Team Leader over me," you huff out.

It hurts so much because his phrasing would have been over my dead body will you let cocky aviators walk over you, but he is dead.

You just buried his body.

That doesn't change the point, Kiddo.

Your heart clenches at the response because it even sounds like Ice.

Ice cold, no mistakes, the voice continues.

"Ice cold, no mistakes," you repeat softly.

"Then that's the play," Brigham nods, finally opening the door for you.

...

everything: @butterfly-skinnylegend

athena’s tags: @omgbrianab @smoothdogsgirl @bazellawriz @sbrewer21 @inky-sun @djs8891

171 notes · View notes

ladykailitha · 2 months ago

Text

Of Butterflies and Backstrokes Part 3

Hey, darlings! We are back again!! Next week I'll start uploading this on Mondays instead of Tuesdays so that Hellfire can be posted on Fridays so that it doesn't get swamped by the WIP Wednesday overflow. See here for further explanation.

We introduce the kids and Eddie finds out what happened to Steve.

Pt 1 Pt 2

Steve could feel a migraine coming on the second he saw Tommy Hagan coming toward him purposefully.

Which meant another parent had complained about him. He fought the urge to take off his glasses and rub the bridge of his nose in frustration.

Steve held up his hand when Tommy got to him and went to open his god damned mouth. “I’m going to stop you before you even get started, Tommy. If Joyce doesn’t give a shit, than neither should you!”

“Beijing was two years ago, Steve,” Tommy huffed angrily. “So what, you hit your head. Get. Over. It.”

“Yeah, I hit my head so hard I blacked out,” Steve snapped back.

Tommy scoffed and rolled his eyes. “I know I was there.”

“Yeah, and you didn’t even fucking medal, Tommy,” he growled. “I nearly drowned. This wasn’t just some little slip in the shower. I hit my head so hard they weren’t sure my vision would come back, asshole. It was traumatic. I don’t know why you can’t understand that!”

Suddenly Carol and Nicole were pulling at Tommy’s arms, muttering soothing words to get him to back down. Tommy glared at him for a moment before he shook the girls off and walked away even more pissed than when he came over.

“Sorry about him,” Nicole said after Carol hurried after him to try and calm him down. “Not all of us think like that.”

Steve just shrugged. He was used to Tommy’s anger about what happened. It was like salt over a wound every time he started up about it. Because, yeah, before all this Tommy and he were friends. Damn good ones, too.

“I think he’s still messed up about the accident,” Nicole muttered. “He feels guilty that he was forced to compete while you were in the hospital. Which lets be honest is probably why he didn’t do well. So if you lay off the medal thing, I’ll try and convince him to drop the pool thing.”

Steve shoulders sagged in defeat. “Yeah, I guess. He started it though.”

She laughed and then shook her head. “Never change, Steve Harrington, the absolute bitch that you are.”

Steve just grinned at her. She shook her head again and walked away. Just as she was leaving Robin came up and put her hand on his shoulder.

“You might have report him to Joyce,” she muttered. “I know you don’t want to, but it looked like he wanted to hit you.”

He chewed on lip and let out a sigh. “If he hits me, I’ll report him then.”

Robin just sighed, she knew it was fight she wasn’t going to win. Steve still had loyalty to Tommy even though they weren’t friends anymore. Well...to be more accurate, he was loyal to a former teammate from his last Olympics.

Hell, there was only one teammate that Steve didn’t owe loyalty to, and he had made it quite clear no one was allowed to even bring that guy up.

“Come on, dingus,” she said instead. “We have the babes class.”

Steve perked up and grinned. The infant and toddler class was his favorite. He loved the squeals of laughter when they learned to love the water as much as he did. He loved the tears of shock and joy when parents saw their little swimming away in the water for the first time.

Eddie was gearing up to run for Joyce when he saw Hagan get in Steve’s face.

“Hagan at it again?” Murray sneered.

Eddie turned to look at his supervisor. The older man had his hands shoved in his pockets and was watching the scene with the dull fascination of someone who’s seen this shit go down one too many times.

“I have so many questions,” he admitted, “so I’m not sure I can answer that for you.”

Murray turned his dull attention to Eddie and blinked at him a moment. “How do you not know?”

“I heard Beijing and team,” Eddie said with a shrug, “so I assume it has something to do with the 2008 Olympics. But, man. I’m a poor kid from a trailer park. We don’t always have a TV, you know?”

Murray blinked at him a moment. “Huh. So you really don’t know. Interesting. Very interesting.”

“You going to tell me about it?” Eddie asked in a huff, “Or are you just going to stand there and look smug about knowing something I don’t?”

“At least tell me you know that Steve and Tommy were in the Olympics,” Murray said, rolling his eyes.

“Well I do now!” Eddie huffed. He was getting really irritated with Murray and if he didn’t tell him what was going on, he was going to snatch that stupid looking toupee right off his fucking head.

Murray grabbed his wrist and pulled him with him. Eddie let out a squawk, struggling to keep his feet. He was short little bastard, but apparently he was strong. They stopped in front of a display case and it were several photos, trophies, and certificates.

There smiling in the center picture were Tommy and Steve in swim caps that had their names and the American flag against the dark blue. They looked so happy. Steve was holding up a gold medal and Tommy was holding up a silver. Underneath it read the caption: “Two Hometown Heroes Bring Home Medals”.

“That’s cute.” Eddie tilted his head at the picture. “So what happened in 2012?”

“Steve slipped and fell in his first event,” Murray explained, “hitting his head on the side of the pool.”

“Jesus Christ.”

He did vaguely remember there being talk of an Olympian who got hurt badly and couldn’t compete. But he didn’t know it was Steve.

“Is that why he stays to the kiddie pools?” Eddie asked, feeling numb.

Murray rocked back on his heels. “Uh huh.”

Eddie nodded and then excused himself back to work. His dislike for Tommy grew with each step he took away from that display case.

Whatever guilt he did or did not feel, Tommy still had no right to harass Steve about his fears. That was a shit thing to do, especially since they were supposedly friends before all this.

Steve didn’t know why he agreed to this.

He sighed.

Yes he did. It was a favor to Joyce for putting up with all his bullshit. So here he was on a Saturday morning, helping her get ready for her youngest son’s eleventh birthday party. Why they wanted a swim party literally three days before they started the beginners class, he didn’t know. But he was going to try and make the best of it anyway.

He opened up the door that led to the kiddie pool and got out tables to place on the far end of the room away from the water. Joyce came in with balloons and streamers, which Steve helped her put up.

He was helping her carry the last of the food in when he saw it. He stopped dead in his tracks and watched as the new guy, Eddie, doing laps in the pool.

Joyce, who was carrying the cake, stopped next to him. “He’s good, huh?”

Steve shook his head head to clear out the cobwebs. He nodded and followed her back into the kiddie pool room. He mixed the soda and Kool-aid and then went to change. But again he saw Eddie had changed from a regular breaststroke to the butterfly.

His throat dried on the spot, which was a miracle considering that it was fucking humid in the pool area.

God, if he was judging his form, he would have given him an 8.7. It was rough, to be sure, but it was better than Tommy’s and butterfly used to be his specialty. The door to the hallway swung up and Nancy and Jonathan came in with Robin right behind them.

That shook him out of his daze and he trotted to the men’s changing room. He quickly changed and showered before he went back out there. He couldn’t have his heads in the clouds. He was lifeguarding kids today. He needed to focus.

And so he did. It was just like swimming. He cut off the noise in his head. The roar of his thoughts were pushed back, he could deal with them later.

Just then the kids arrived.

Will first, surrounded by his friends, Dustin, Lucas, and Mike, his step-sister Ellie, and her best friend Max.

Six kids in all. Which is why Joyce needed an extra pair of eyes. And three extra arms at this point.

Will stopped in front of the cake in awe. It was shaped like a dolphin, the kid’s favorite animal of the moment. It would probably change next week. But for now, it was perfect.

“Mom!” Will cried. “It’s awesome!”

Joyce gave him a hug. “I’m glad you approve. Now you and your friends go get changed. Robin will be helping the girls and Steve will be watching over the boys. For the duration of this party you will obey them like you obey me, okay? This is really important.”

“Because being around a large body of water is dangerous,” Ellie said solemnly, nodding her head.

Joyce smiled down at her. “That’s right. Now go on. The sooner you get changed, the sooner the party can start!”

The kids turned on their heels and dashed into the changing rooms where Robin and Steve were waiting.

The two girls came out first. Ellie in a purple bathing suit with pink flowers on it and Max in a red and black two piece halter top swim set. Ellie had her hair pulled back in a high pony tail, while Max had braided pigtails.

They each had a cupcake while they waited for the boys.

Soon enough all four boys came barreling out with Steve shouting behind them. “Don’t run or you can’t swim!”

They slowed to a fast walk, so Steve let out a pained sigh as they crowded the food table. Dustin was in a floral Hawaiian print board shorts, Lucas’s were blue with rogange stripes on the side. Mike was wearing red swim trunks, and the birthday boy was was wearing neon green trunks.

They looked new, which meant that Joyce was able to spring for them. Even with two incomes, Joyce and Hopper combined still made less then the assholes they paid to coach their precious darlings. Especially on a cop’s salary.

Eddie came up behind Steve. “What’s going on here?”

Steve nearly jumped out of his skin. “Jeez!”

Eddie cackled. “Sorry, I thought you saw me.”

“It’s Joyce’s son Will’s birthday party,” Steve said, keeping his eyes on the rowdy kids. “She asked Robin and me to watch them. Well...she is paying us for this. But it’s still a favor.”

“Why not Jonathan or Nancy or any of the lifeguards?” Eddie asked, toweling his hair.

Steve took his eye off them for a second to look at him and nearly swallowed his own tongue. He was only in black board shorts. He had two tattoos on his chest, a spider and some demon head. Water slid down the tattoos, past his navel to pool on the top of the shorts. He gulped.

“Because the party runs until noon,” Steve explained once he got his eyes back in his head. “And as it’s a Saturday in the middle of the hottest part of the summer, it’s all hands on deck. And since we trainers don’t have classes on Saturday for that reason...Plus no eleven year old wants his big brother there with his girlfriend. It’s ‘uncool’.” He used air quotes for the last word.

“So you and Robin get the fun of watching little hellions run around like chickens with there heads cut off.”

Steve nodded and turned back to watching the kids. They were screaming and splashing around.

Eddie patted him on the shoulder. “Better you than me, man.” He looked up at the clock. “And that’s my pool time for the week. See you on Monday, Harrington.”

Steve pursed his lips and nodded. Afraid that he was going to blurt out something about Eddie’s swimming.

Shit.

Steve was just going to have to show up with Robin next week for the staff swim. He closed his eyes and then opened them when there was a large splash.

“Hey, no pushing!” he barked.

Tag List: CLOSED

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @chameleonhair @sadisticaltarts @dreamercec @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @mac-attack19

10- @aol19 @eriquin @tartarusknight @gloomysoup

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #olympic steddie #olympic swimmer au

102 notes · View notes

njswimschool · 2 years ago

Text

Swimming Classes for Toddlers Florham Park

Swimming lessons allow children to interact with their peers, make new friends, and learn essential social skills such as communication, teamwork, and sportsmanship. Njswim offers swimming classes for toddlers in Florham Park, NJ. Immerse your children in swimming from the start. Contact us today.

#Swimming Classes #Swimming Classes for Toddlers #swimming #Swim Lessons #Toddlers Swim school #toddlerswimming

0 notes

darkpetal16 · 3 months ago

Note

What's sirentale sans like as a dad since that's a possible outcome? (Oh and sirentale wingding as a grandpa since he sees the MC as his child)

Hands on. He wants this so bad, so when the opportunity comes he’s desperate to be a good dad.

He’s read every book available. Listened to every podcast he can get his hands on. Taken classes on childcare and CPR.

Nest. NEST FOR THE CHILD. It is non negotiable. Baby sleeps with you both in your nest until old enough that Sans is reasonably confident they won’t die without constant supervision.

If you’re nursing, he’s got a constant streamline of snacks and water for you. If you’re using formula, he’s happy to take over feeding shifts so you can sleep.

Gets fast with diaper changes. Like, you have to wonder if there’s a world record because he’s so fast the baby doesn’t even register they’re missing pants.

Weaves a personal swaddle blanket for the baby using his own threads.

Toddler stage he’s taking them out for swimming lessons on the daily. If they’ve inherited his moth side, he’ll swap it out for flying. Exercise is an important developmental aspect and he won’t skimp out on it.

Lazy! Cuddle! Sundays! Or whichever day you also have off. It’s a day dedicated to constant snuggles in the family home. No leaving. No cooking. No chores. Just constant physical affection and play.

When the child is big enough to rough house, Sans is ready to play. Orcas love playing with their pods, and one of his favorite games is chase! If his kid shows interest in being the predator he’s happy to play dead every so often.

But the kid DOES have to work for it. He won’t give it freely.

If you have a demanding job, he’ll take a career in education so he has more free time to spend with them. If you want to stay at home / take a more freeing job then he’ll take a career in science with Wingding.

He’s on the PTA. He will fight any Karen or Chad who gets in the way of his kid’s education.

(He and Wingdings will join forces as need be in this regard. Education is very important to both of them. And Wingding lowkey loves the tea.)

Sometimes he likes to tease you about the drama. It’s cute seeing his little penguin get riled up.

“You cannot eat Billy’s Mom, Sans.”

“what if billy’s mom deserves it?”

“She’s just doing what she thinks is best for the children.”

“well what she thinks is stupid.”

You sign to Wingding for help. He shrugs and signs, “He’s not wrong.”

You give them both a look of pain.

Sans’ grin stretches. “i won’t eat her.”

“No hypnotizing either.”

“i won’t eat her.”

“Sans!”

He jokes but he won’t do anything that could jeopardize his kid’s life.

Little bit of a helicopter parent. Not in a restrictive way, but in a I need you to be honest and tell me where you are at all times way. He’s mostly supportive of whatever the kid wants to do and doesn’t care for curfews, just as long as he knows where his kid (and obviously it’s not a super dangerous area).

Although he won’t let his kid sleep over at someone else’s place. Too risky.

Wingding as a grandpa?

Oooooh. . . He doesn’t know how to deal with kids. He needs a lot of practice. The first time the baby cries in his arms, he is devastated.

You have to repeatedly reassure him it’s not him personally; the baby just needs to get to know him!

Wingding takes this to mean he has to visit daily to see the baby. Sans is Not Happy.

But Wingding knows the way to keep Sans at bay is through you, so he always brings your favorite treats as a bribe.

First time baby smiles at Wingding, he is struck by such overwhelming cute aggression he has to hand the baby back to you so he can excitedly sign.

If you get him a Best Grandpa mug he drinks from it daily.

At babbling stage, Wingding loves to listen to them talk. He nods along to everything they say even though he doesn’t understand a word of it.

When the child is big enough to go to school, Wingding will occasionally take them out of school as a surprise day trip to the movies.

So! Many! Books! The child will never want for books. Monthly grandpa/grandbaby trips to the bookstore.

You essentially have a permanent free babysitter whenever you and Sans need time to yourselves.

He loves them.

PLAY - IF SIREN CALL FOR SANS’ ROUTE

MASTERLIST

#undertale #undertale au #interactive fiction #sans #x reader #x you #siren sans #siren call #hc

94 notes · View notes

irisintheafterglow · 5 months ago

Text

iris is missing bachira again, what else is new!!

in the limited amount of time you'd spent with bachira meguru, you learned that, with the exception of soccer, his attention span was shorter than a toddler's.

he was always fiddling with something at the outskirts of your vision, spinning a pencil or rolling a rectangular eraser back and forth. a closer look revealed an assortment of little drawings at the corners and headings of his notebook pages: little butterflies, trees, flowers, rockets, fish, and anything more you could possibly think of. you sat in the seat closest to the aisle where the teacher walked through during worktimes, and you developed the habit of tapping his side of the lab table when she started getting too close. bachira would then flip to whatever page he was supposed to be completing and put on the appearance of working hard, murmuring his gratitude when the teacher passed.

it was during a lecture about aquatic ecosystems when the first bachira doodle swam its way into your notebook. you didn't notice it at first, too focused on the presentation to see his hand quickly scribble on your paper before retreating like nothing happened. but, when you finally had a second to look down and see a fish swimming next to a crudely drawn piece of coral, the tiniest smile when you looked at bachira's face was a dead giveaway. you added your own stalk of seaweed to the picture and his smile only grew larger when you slid the paper over to show him.

over time, drawings began to include questions, questions turned to full messages, and full messages became gossip and complaints that were exchanged without any spoken words. his favorite thing to scribble was we won the game, btw :D because you never failed to giggle at his terribly drawn soccer ball next to the smiley face. his most frequently asked question, however, was a tossup between what tf are we learning and i'm so hungry. he was a distraction in class, yes, but a welcome one when you needed someone to lighten a dark mood.

you found that his bored tendencies rubbed off on you, as you were itching to write something one day when the teacher had explicitly instructed you to watch the documentary without taking notes. bachira knew that you had a hard time remembering things if you didn't write them down, and his solution startled you.

"it's okay, just write on me!" he beamed at you as he whispered over the movie playing on the projector. "you let me do it all the time, so let me return the favor."

"i let you do it because none of your pens are permanent, bachira. it's also just doodles, not full sentences," you point out, a blister starting to form on the inside of your fingers as you spin your pen. "mine are a little harder to wash off, trust me."

"as long as you don't draw a dick on my face, i really don't care," he shrugs and you scoff as he's rolling up his sleeve and presenting you his blank forearm. "your canvas awaits." seeing the hesitancy on your face, he nods encouragingly and takes the liberty of drawing a very shaky smiley face on the side of his thumb. "your turn!"

for the remainder of class, bachira's chin rests in his palm with his elbow propped on the table, his other arm extended to you as you jot down whatever you want to remember for later. bachira watches you more than he does the video, memorizing the way you bite your tongue when you're thinking and the way your eyes light up when you figure out how to paraphrase a thought. it's endearing and an odd fluttering feeling occurs in his chest as you look over at him with a grateful smile. at the end of the period, you draw a heart on the inside of his wrist before rushing off to your next subject, still expressing your thanks as you push in your chair.

later, bachira brushes off his teammates when they ask why he has pen stains all over his arm; he says he didn't have time to scrub it before the game.

---

the blue lock players begin to notice an odd habit of bachira's, a sort of ritual right before every match. he rolls up his uniform's long-sleeve until just enough of his wrist is showing, and draws something on the inside of his wrist. with the cap of the marker between his teeth, bachira obviously struggles to draw with his non-dominant hand but declines assistance when isagi offers.

when he kisses the heart on the inside of his wrist before scoring every goal, he hopes that you can feel it's for you, with a promise that he'll be back to you soon.

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#bachira x you #bachira x reader #bachira x y/n #bachira meguru x reader #bachira meguru x you #bachira meguru x y/n #blue lock x you #blue lock x reader #blue lock x y/n #bllk x you #bllk x reader #bllk x y/n #bllk imagines #bllk fluff #blue lock fluff #blue lock imagines

128 notes · View notes

ieatfanficforbrunch · 10 months ago

Text

Steve is Worthy

He based all his self-worth on others. He knows he got it from years of living with his parents for so long.

They were by no means rich, just rich for Hawkins. Lowest High Class if you will. With that came the constant reminder of their Reputation. His father was an Assistant Director for Coke-a-cola and, whether he liked it or not, the Harringtons were in the public domain.

Of course, that meant he had to be perfect, there was no choice.

When he was three, his father took him to a store to get a toy for his birthday. Little Steven in his kakis and a sweater vest with a collar, wanted a baby doll.

He picked one out, something perfect for him. A baby doll with dark hair and blue eyes. Its body was a cloth material, and its head, arms, and legs were plastic. It came with a bottle and a pacifier; it was everything the toddler could ever dream of.

When he picked up the toy it was ripped from his hands, his father scowling down at him.

“You know better Steven. If you want to make me proud, go find a car. Honestly, what must I have done to get a son who wants a doll?” The words brought tears to his eyes, but he knew better than to cry, he was a boy, and he needed to act like one.

When he turned seven his mother threw him a birthday party. He was grateful, ecstatic that his friends from school would be coming to see his room and his cake. He picked out the best cake in the world, a small one with delicate flowers in blue and white. It was perfect for him, soft and gentle.

His parents told him to stay in his room until 6:30, his mother specified that he needed to wear the outfit she chose for him. He waited for hours, excited at getting to celebrate his special day. When the clock struck 6:30 he took the stairs two at a time, excited to see what his mother had planned.

When he got to the bottom of the stairs, he didn’t see any of his friends from school, he didn’t even see any kids. There were adults from his father’s company, all with a glass in their hand. On the kitchen table there sat a small blue cake with a baseball bat on it, not a single flower in sight.

His eyes once again burned but he knew better than to cry.

“We have to keep up appearances, Steven,” his mother said, “Your friends are not good enough for you, you are no longer prohibited to speak to them. As for the cake, you know better. Flowers are for girls; you are a boy. Your father has signed you up for baseball, basketball, and the Swim team. I expect you to attend every practice.”

Steve just nodded.

For years he did everything they said, everything they wanted him to do. His mother picked out his outfits, his father found suitable friends for him. Those friends made the decisions for him, he followed along blindly. He knew that the only way he was worth anything was if he was perfect and obedient.

He would go to every event his father told him to, only date who his parents allowed, and never once did he step out of line, because when it was all over and he got an award or a date or a good grade he would be rewarded with a “well done, Steven,” from his father.

When his parents bought an apartment close to his father’s office, Steve was left to take care of the house. He was left without direction. He was free.

The first thing he did was get in a fight with Johnathan Byers, the second was kicking his friends to the curb, the third was getting broken up with, and the fourth was fighting an interdimensional monster.

If that wasn’t bad enough, he also (accidentally) became the ‘mother’ to the nerdiest kids on planet Earth.

From a young age, he learned that his worth as a person was connected to what he could give people. For these kids, he would give protection, free movies, and his life if it ever came to it.

Robin tried to help him realize his worth as Steve, but nothing worked, and then things went from bad to worse.

Steve was shell-shocked, to say the least, as he carried Eddie’s limp, bleeding body through the upside down. He was desperate, Desperate to make himself useful, desperate to save his new friend and lover, he needed to be useful.

He got Eddie out of the Upside down, to a hospital, and in the care of the only people who could help him. Then, he waited.

He didn’t get treated, couldn’t, wouldn’t, because one of the kids may need that help, or the earthquake victims, or anyone who wasn’t him.

Robin could only sit by and watch, knowing that Eddie was the only person who could convince Steve that he was worth enough to get his wounds treated.

Eddie woke up 6 days later to Steve holding his hand.

The lights were bright, the sounds were loud, and everything was cold. Everything except Steve. His skin was like fire against his.

Eddie blinked slightly, glancing around the room. Wayne was in the corner, sleeping in some terrible chair, Dustin was asleep on a tiny cot next to the bed, and Robin was leaning up against the wall.

“What happened…?” Eddie asked her.

Robin sighs, “Your Stevie here carried you out, got you to a hospital. The doctors said you should heal with minimal damage, but it will take a couple of weeks…”

Eddie nods, asking, “Is he…okay?”

Robin pinches the bridge of her nose, a habit she picked up from being around Steve so much, “He’s refusing treatment, says the supplies need to go to people who actually need it…I think the wounds are getting infected…”

Eddie sighs softly before gently shaking Steve’s shoulder.

“Stevie…Baby, wake up, it’s time you go to the doctor,” Eddie whispers.

Steve grumbles softly before opening his eyes. A smile spreads across his face as soon as he sees Eddie. For a moment they just looked at each other, and then Eddie pulled Steve to his chest. The embrace was anything but silent, sniffles, escaped sobs, giggles, and even ‘I missed you’s are shared between the two.

Eddie doesn’t let Steve leave his chest as he talks, “Ok Stevie, time to get those bites taken care of…yea? Scars are Metal, dying because of infection…not so much.”

Steve looks up at him, prepared to protest, but Eddie shushes him, getting a bitchy glare from Steve.

“Come on Baby, please. You are so important to me, and I need you to get better, ok? I don’t care if you think those people need it more, you not only helped save the world, but you saved my life. Do you understand? No one in this world deserves to be patched up more than you,” Eddie whispered, cupping both Steve’s cheeks.

Silent tears stream down his face and he reluctantly nods. Robin immediately runs to get a nurse.

“You are my everything Steve, my entire world. If I lost you, I don’t know what I’d do. You are Worth Everything. Ok? Everything,” Eddie says, gently kissing Steve’s cheek, then his other cheek, then his forehead, then his chin, then his nose, and finally his lips.

Steve smiled, getting the treatment he not only needed but deserved. He was moved into Eddie’s room where he was showered with love, affection, and encouragement. He felt happy, he felt loved, and, most importantly, he felt worthy.

#eddie munson #eddie the freak munson #eddie the banished #stranger things #eddie x steve #steddie #steve harrington #steve x eddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #wayne munson

337 notes · View notes