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pricegouge · 15 days ago

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Humor Me (Even When it's Ruining Me)

part two

masterlist | taglist: pricegouged

babysitter!reader x single dad!price

cw: fem reader. implied age gap. nothing specific beyond reader being legal. alcohol. reader is a brat and john's having a lot of fun with it. inappropriate work flirting lmao. also i beefed john up cause i could. daddy kink. MDNI

Banner by @/cafekitsune

Chapter two

Three weeks later and you don't quite know what's happened, or who you even are anymore. You're waspish and short, run ragged between classes and the two families you've somehow managed to become employed for. They're nice enough to coordinate between themselves, most nights - Kate reaching out with a schedule the two of them have agreed on that lets you manage both kids at once. That doesn't mean they can always get their kids under the same roof for you, their schedules always too full to manage the drive across town. As if yours is any better.

The tentative routine you've fallen into is easy enough on paper, attending morning class before heading over to the Laswell's and doing most of your classwork there, even attending an online lesson once a week because Colin is a little angel who can remain calm as long as you are, but it all goes pretty much to shit the second you embark to pick up Emily from preschool around midafternoon, loading Colin into the carseat the Laswells very generously bought for you.

(Between the fact that it stays belted into your car twentyfour seven now because you don't trust yourself to reinstall it properly without the weirdly mechanical tests John used to ensure its safety when he set it up the first time and the fact that Colin can occasionally be heard cooing in the background of your more interactive lessons, there's definitely a rumor going around campus that you have a baby. You're not sure how you feel about it, but it does tend to keep the more annoying boys at arm's length so you haven't really gone out of your way to correct it quite yet. Emily's booster gets stored in your trunk, though. You don't quite want to know what kind of leper you'd become if your classmates thought you'd been on Sixteen and Pregnant.)

The girl is… tougher. Well behaved but boisterous, moody at times. Her rambunctiousness is infectious, gets Colin worked up from the confines of his seat in a way he doesn't usually wind down from for hours while Emily prattles on about her day and waves glittery crafts at you, leaving your car looking like a bad drag hangover, still-tacky finger paints smearing like lipstick stains on your upholstery.

(This is why Emily's booster stays in the trunk, there's already enough misleading evidence all over your car.)

(This is why John doesn't pick up his own daughter, you're fairly sure, and you've half a mind to install a glitter bomb in his glove box as revenge.)

You don't always have to watch the girl, John's evening schedule an unfixed thing, but Emily always seems excited to see you pulling up, as if she knows that her father works even when he's home. It's why you try to stay patient with her when her boundless energy riles the baby up, or when her incessant need for attention prevents you from finishing papers on time. It's not her fault, but it is slowly driving you insane.

Gina helps out when she can, usually bringing dinner for everyone when she stops by the Price's to pick up her kid in the early evening. Sometimes she even stays for a bit, helps keep Emily entertained while you streamline the bedtime routine with hopes of finishing up homework after she tucks in for the night. It's a valiant effort made by all, but the girl doesn't often play along, much too busy antagonizing you to bother showering in a timely manner. There are nights you think of her more like a little sister than a client, the way she picks on you. You feed it right back in your darker hours, when having every minute of your day planned out and consumed weighs on you, giving you teeth. You'd made her cry once by mistake, your tone more than your words themselves needling under her skin until she burst into tears, hid in her room until her father came home. There'd been an odd sense of relief to it, balancing out the panic of a bad review. Sure, you'd be fired and no one would want to hire you ever again if John used that one app where you got most of your odd jobs, but at least the Laswells wouldn't give you up and you could return to your regular schedule. But when Mr. Price got home that evening, he'd only listened to his whiny daughter with a soft smile, kissing her on the forehead before telling you both that he 'Wished his girls would get along.'

You can see where Emily gets it from, her ability to drive you insane, but where the girl is loud and prickly or candy-sweet by turns, a constant one man crew of Guess Who, her father is a steady, low stream abrading you, the funnel where he slips through your cells eroding until he's a constant bubbling under your skin. He's incorrigible, insidious, shameless.

Escalating, lock step with you.

You still haven't returned his shirt. Well, technically you had - once. Worn it that Wednesday, the first time he'd asked you back. You'd done it with every intention of teasing him a little, noting you'd need a replacement if he wanted it back now, and changing out of it before leaving for the night. He'd turned it on your head with a simple 'You could always just take it off,' before you'd even been able to reveal your plan to give it back to him.

He should have expected you to retaliate after that, returning home with it once more. It's remained safe in your dresser ever since, one less avenue for him to come barrelling down the center of, catching you in his headlights like a deer too scared to run. And if keeping it means you get to wear it to bed sometimes, so be it. That's his fault, too, always texting you so late to 'make sure you got back okay.' It's possible he's being gentlemanly, but that would be a first so you refuse to believe it, assume instead that he wants to make you think of him when you're climbing into bed each night. Like you need the help, like you haven't already worn the scent off his shirt. Sometimes you think about weaseling another one from him, or wonder how long it would take him to notice if you outright stole one. You know which room is his, have caught glimpses through the cracked door sometimes when following Emily up to her room. He never shuts it, too trusting. You probably would've already gotten yourself off on his pillow like a bitch in heat if he hadn't let slip early on that Emily sometimes likes to sleep in his bed when he's away. 'Think she misses me sometimes,' his voice was sad but the leer he gave you as he continued was anything but. 'She's allowed, if she wants.'

The next day he mentioned Emily falls asleep quickest when someone lies down with her to read her story. Your papers continue going unwritten, the girl wandering out of her bedroom late into the night because you refuse to start the habit when you know how it will end.

It's unsustainable, feels like you're circling the drain. But the money is great.

While the Laswells had never been stingy, John pays you like a dental surgeon each time he needs you. That same exorbitant rate from the first night, now with a prepaid gas card he seems very uninterested in monitoring the spending of. You'd be tempted to test your theory if you had time, take a road trip out to your parents or something just to see if it ever got declined. Sometimes you fantasize about it at night, texting him an SOS and a picture of your gas gauge on E. It's embarrassing how often he shows up to save the day in your daydreams now, racing to your side in his gleaming Lexus to refuel your car with a suggestive smile, working the nozzle past your intake valve like he's slipping into a wet cunt.

You should probably get laid, but who has the time? Especially given your… situation.

(Your situation being there is no situation. Never has been one. Virginal as the day you were born save for some over-the-pants heavy petting in high school and a rotation of cheap drug store vibes you usually end up abandoning for your own fingers because dear god, you'd think you'd have learned after the first wasted investment but up until now, with John's much needed help, you haven't really been in a position to just spend on sex toys all willy nilly and while yeah, sure, you are now, every time you go to spend his money on an imitation cock you can't help thinking might look like his, you suddenly remember you're only here because you can't put your big girl panties on and -.)

It takes time, is the problem. You don't need the whole blanket under the stars treatment, but you at least want some evidence that you're not going to get jackhammered into the mattress by some selfish, overeager boy who wouldn't know how to get you off if you gave him a manual. But evidence takes time to gather, takes meetups in frat parties you have no interest in attending, and makeout sessions smelly couches just to see if your partner knows how to use their tongue. And for all his provisions, John (John.) has made well and truly certain that the one thing you don't have, is in fact time.

>Need you tonight.

The vibration of your phone against the library desk is loud as a gunshot, the message itself ringing in your ears just as bad. You placed your phone back on the table and sent your deskmate, a handsome senior named Paul who'd been your unofficial Saturday morning library pal for the last two semesters, an apologetic glance.

Paul just waved his hand at you dismissively, a small smile tugging at his lips. With his head bowed into his fourth edition of a rather intimidating neuroscience textbook that gave you anxiety just looking at it, the only way you could tell he wasn't annoyed by your antics at all was the dimpling of his cheeks. It distracted you momentarily, the urge to nibble at the fat there sudden and overwhelming, then your phone vibrated again because you'd been too distracted to silence it and you snatched it back up with an annoyed huff, ready to tell your employer off about disturbing your Sacred Saturday, your one day off a week.

(Again.)

> I know what day it is but it's an emergency.

> I'll make it up to you.

< how so?

You chew your lip waiting for a response, the bubbling typing indicator roiling like your stomach. It's always like this, texting with John - every response teetering on too much. It's why you usually prefer to coordinate with the Laswells as much as possible, minimizing your discussions with Mr. Price to those late night 'Did you make it home okay?' messages.

(And sending him a photo evidence that his shirt was still safe and in your care once.

If you'd been wearing it at the time, snuggled up in bed and haloed in warm fairy lights with the hem riding a little high, that was his fault for asking after it so late.)

Tap, tap, tap.

Across from you, Paul drums his pen off the spiral notebook that sits between you, a custom since your third week sitting together. It's blank aside from your brief, handwritten conversations as far as you can tell, an accessory Paul seems to carry around for this express purpose, evidently preferable to just asking for your number so you can text each other to get around the strict no talking policy in the quietest lounge of the library. In the year or so since you've met him, you've never heard Paul talk, all of your correspondences reduced to the notebook which he draws your attention to now, his tidy scrawl asking a simple but damning question: 'Who's the guy?'

You shake your head, instinctual - automatic. Paul crooks an unimpressed brow at you and underlines his original question.

'Just some guy I work for, why?'

Paul smirks when he reads it but turns serious in response, waving at your overall demeanor as if that answers everything.

In your palm, your phone gives a muted buzz and you have to physically swallow back the urge to check it immediately. You roll your eyes at Paul instead. A poor excuse for the frustration you want to unleash, but opening the valve even a hair was better than just letting it build.

His scrawl is neat when Paul responds. Unaffected, calm. 'You've got a crush.' And then below that, its own paragraph: 'Should I be worried?'

It takes a moment for the words to register, the moment dragging out too long before your eyes dart up to your deskmate. Paul winks, scheming and sly, and your jaw hinges open in shock.

Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz.

"Shit," you hiss, scrambling out of your seat as your phone continues to vibrate with an incoming call. John's contact lights the screen, the stupid money bag emoji you'd used for him mocking you. You wait until you make it to the stairwell to answer to avoid the worst of the librarian's wrath, though she still shoots you a disapproving glare as you stalk past her post. You've half a mind to let the stairwell door slam behind you, but it would echo louder than your anger and you want John to hear every word when you accept the call.

"I am at the library," you hiss by way of greeting, as if that perfectly illustrates why you're so annoyed with him.

John just grunts, uninterested. "Are you available or not tonight? I need an answer ASAP so I can make plans if you're -."

"I'm off on Saturdays."

A beat passes as John recollects, evidently unused to being interrupted. "Right. Which is why I offered to pay you double your regular rate."

Confused, you check your texts to read the one you'd missed, too busy being chatted up by a cute boy much more appropriately aged. In it, John pleads desperately with you: offers twice your pay, dinner, anything you want.

You think of Paul's cute dimples, the way he's known you for a year without asking for your number. You think of John covered in shaving cream, his first words to you a joke about how desperate you looked - how desperate you both looked.

Hand pressed to your forehead, you shut your eyes and ask what time John needs you.

"Oh, thank you so much, sweetheart. A real lifesaver. I promise I'll make it up to you, just tell me how, okay? And as for tonight, no later than seventeen hundred, please - though honestly you can come by anytime, I'm sure Emily will be happy to see you."

Emily. Right. "Well I'm at the library for a reason, so -."

"You can use my study, of course. The munchkin knows better than to bug me when I'm in there."

Unbidden, you imagine pestering John yourself when he's lounged in some fancy modern desk chair, leather and broad. You bet his study smells like tobacco, that there's a bar cart in the corner. You imagine him using your mouth like a tumbler of whiskey, punishment for running it too much. He'd drink from your lips whenever he -.

"But I suppose I don't have all those useful resources like textbooks… well, consider it a standing offer."

"S-sure, Mr. Price. Thanks."

"Of course. I'll see you later, then?"

"Yes, sir."

On the other end of the line, John's breath stutters. His voice is low when he signs off, blunt and direct. Doesn't wait to hear your response. "Be good, sweetheart."

***

You're not entirely sure what being good constitutes, but you're fairly sure using John's emergency credit card Emily located for you in the freezer to Instacart approximately one day's minimum wage worth of junk food because Emily had been sad and despondent all day wasn't it. Nor was letting her dance her sugar rush off to less than appropriate music, probably, but it was worth it to see her smiling again after the fit she'd thrown when her father had left for the evening. You're both sweaty and breathless now, collapsing onto the couch between songs to shovel more M&Ms into your mouths and make fun of each other's dance moves. Emily says you use too much arm movements, but she's only four and thinks hopscotch skips are the new craze so you ask what she knows anyway and laugh at the way she rolls her eyes at you.

John's talkative too, apparently, the unexpected clients he'd been urgently called in to entertain evidently not holding his attention. He's never exactly radio silent when you've got his kid in your charge, but he usually lets you take the lead (pepper him with stupid questions you already know the answer to just to find an excuse to distract him because maybe you kinda like how short he gets) on those nights.

(Despite this standard, you don't feel the need to tell him you'd managed to read his credit card number through the brick of crystalline ice he'd cleverly hidden it in. You hope he's really short when he figures that stunt out.)

Tonight, however, it's John peppering you with questions. They start out innocent enough, asking after his daughter because he felt bad leaving her on a night that he'd promised to be home and he could see how much it upset her. Those questions peter out when you send him a picture of her all giggly and wound up, her hair freshly braided in a style she said he's too clumsy to accomplish for her. With confirmation that his daughter was feeling better, John's texts turn rapidly back to you.

> And how about you, sweetheart? Are you doing better?

< wym, better?

> What do you mean, wym?

< har har

> I mean you were rather short with me earlier. Are you still upset with me?

> I promise I also don't want to be working on a Saturday, for what it's worth.

< not mad

< just seems like you're not really needed with how much you're blowing up my phone

> Honestly, no. This is a waste of both our time.

> Have you decided how I can make it up to you, at least?

Actually, you hadn't even thought of it, figuring he was just being exaggerative - that he'd pay you your exorbitant rate and be done with it, send you on your way with your thoughts all twisted after some more growled insinuations and a pat on your ass, probably. He seemed like he was maybe two visits away from trying his luck, anyway.

Maybe you could ask for it sooner. Clear the air, finally feel his hands on you. You tell him you don't want anything, clarify nothing he can give you when he calls that out for being a lie.

> Sure about that? I can help with most things.

And the thing is, he's right. There are a lot of things you want. You want to get a better grade on your next econ assignment, you want a full night's sleep. You want to have free time, pick up a hobby. You have a growing desire to learn how to make the perfect pasta after seeing her scarf so many lackluster take out spaghetti bolognaise dishes. The solution was obvious, though one you knew he wouldn't want to hear.

< okay. i want more free time

> So quit with the Laswells.

It draws you up short, Emily bouncing around you unawares. It's one thing to suspect John's - your - end game, but another thing to see it batted around so casually. It makes you feel taken advantage of, guided in a way you don't necessarily appreciate. The Laswells were your first real, well-paying gig, your ticket to independence. You didn't relish the thought of abandoning them and you certainly didn't like to be coerced into the decision.

But John did pay very well.

< just like that?

John's answer is far too quick, the status changing directly from read to answered with a speed that suggested he may have had a response drafted already which he simply copy/pasted.

> It would make the most sense. I can pay well enough to make up for the lost income, plus my schedule works better with your classes.

> Honestly, I'm surprised you even lasted as long as you did with them.

< i wouldn't want to let them down…

> Nonsense, I'm sure they'd understand. You're a busy girl with a full schedule, afterall.

So were they - the whole reason you'd been working for them so long.

< i don't think i could quit on them. kate scares me.

> I'll take care of Kate, okay? No need to worry. I owe you one anyway, remember?

>Just let Daddy handle it.

It takes you a minute, the words somehow too natural to trip you up. Before you, Emily screeches happily about some cartoon that's maybe a touch too old for her and you think to yourself that she's going to sleep good tonight, all tuckered out as you know she's going to be and then you nearly drop your phone in your rush to chastise him, or run your mouth like you always do, or maybe double down on your request.

But the words don't come. Every time you manage to string two whole thoughts together it peters out, the textual manifestation of the gaping anime gasp he's managed to draw from you as you imagine him watching your typing bubbles appear and fizzle over and over again. If he's watching, of course, but he's a busy man so maybe -.

This time when your phone buzzes, there's no threat of a scolding librarian to keep your yelp suppressed. Just the odd look Emily shoots you before being distracted by her brightly colored show again, turning away from you disinterestedly as you excuse yourself to the kitchen.

"Mr. Price?"

"Do I make you uncomfortable?"

"S- sorry?"

His voice is calmer when he repeats himself, the same tone he uses on his daughter when she's too fidgety to listen. "Do I make you uncomfortable?"

And that answer is easy because the flutter in your tummy you get whenever his words grow a little too overt is not discomfort, so the answer comes easily, if quietly. "No."

"Do you want me to stop?"

Through the fog of your fluster, you remember Paul and his glacial pace, the cat calls from boys you've never met before and have no interest in. This is different. This is good. "No."

The breath John lets out doesn't sound like he's been holding it, more a pleased sigh than anything, accompanied by a low hum. "Good girl. Appreciate you telling me. Is this something you want?"

"I just said -?"

"Not wanting me to stop and wanting something to follow through to its logical conclusion are not the same things. Is this something you want?"

The question grates - the notion that he would think of this all as a waste of time if you didn't know you wanted him, maybe. "Hadn't thought about it. You only just -," You counter vehemently, but John just laughs, a heavy burst of breath through his nose. It catches in his mustache - wind cutting through the grass.

"If I were to come home tonight to find you sleeping on my couch and decided to wake you up all sweetly and softly, would that be alright?"

You picture yourself sleep-soft and pliant, heavy hands soothing over your flank as John's rough voice coaxes you awake. "Yes," you breathe.

He hums approvingly. "And if I were to wake you with my tongue in your cunt, would that be too much?"

"John -!" you hiss, scandalized.

"Try again."

A beat passes where you try to smother the pit of nerves in your stomach. "Mr. Price."

"Better. Answer the question, sweetheart."

"Mr. Price, I -." You huff a breath, take advantage of the fact he can't see you to visibly straighten your spine, steel yourself. "Mr. Price, what do you want?"

He doesn't miss a beat. "Easy. I've wanted to bend you over every available surface since you first barged into my bathroom and hinged yourself over that sink."

"I didn't."

"I want to keep that clever little mouth of yours quiet by stuffing it full of my cock. But I also want to hear you complain about what a brat my daughter's been all night because you're cute when you're mad. I want to come home and know what the two of you grabbed for dinner by licking it off your teeth." He pauses to give you an opening, notes your silence, and continues in a much softer voice. "And I want you to be able to focus on school a little better."

You can't manage anything better than a soft oh, and John's responding laugh is a low rumble, voice deceptively soft when he continues - the same voice he uses on Emily when she's too tired to behave properly. You wonder if his colleagues can hear him again, wonder if that's just how he's going to speak to you regardless.

"The question, sweetheart."

"I would like that, Mr. Price."

John's silent in the beat that passes, a hinge creaking open spilling ambient chatter in the background. He'd been sequestered, which means that last tone was only meant for you. "I'll see you tonight, kiddo. Behave for Daddy, yeah?"

#john price x reader #captain john price x reader #humor me

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bugboybuck · 2 months ago

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boys will be bugs, right.

read on ao3

Evan turns up at Tommy's door on a morning Tommy wasn't expecting him with a manic look in his eyes. Tommy - who'd been dragged out of bed by the doorbell, still wiping sleep out of his eyes - doesn't immediately know what to make of his expression. It's never a bad thing to see his boyfriend unexpectedly; in fact, if Tommy had his way, he'd see Evan all the time. But he's also not a sucker, and he knows that when a guy like Evan looks at you all pink-cheeked and dimpled, you're at risk of being talked into some of the dumbest decisions of your life.

"Hey, baby," Tommy greets him, trying not to sound wary. "Did I forget a breakfast date? I'm still kind of out of it from my shift."

"No, you didn't forget," Evan tells him, leaning in for a kiss. It's a sign of what a simple man Tommy is that the press of Evan's warm pink lips and the smell of him all close, the feel of one of his thick hands sliding onto Tommy's waist, is enough to distract him for a solid ten seconds, even when Evan pulls back and says, "Sorry, did I wake you? I just need to measure some stuff in your back yard."

He squeezes Tommy's hip and kisses him once more and then pushes past him, heading right for the kitchen, where the door to Tommy's back yard sits.

"I've been meaning to get you a key cut so you can just let yourself in," Tommy says, more to himself than to Evan, who doesn't seem to have heard him anyway. Brain still getting online, Tommy closes the front door, makes to follow Evan - and only then processes the next part of Evan's statement. "Wait, what about my back yard?"

Evan's already bounced out the back door. Tommy briefly regrets getting a boyfriend ten years younger than him with a seemingly endless well of energy like a puppy. He rubs his eyes, presses the button to turn on the coffee machine, and then follows Evan out the door.

Tommy's proud of his back yard. He doesn't have the time to garden much, but he has a little planter of herbs, which Evan has been delighted by ever since he first came here and now cooks with on every possible occasion - he has a nice spread of lawn which is good for hosting barbecues, one large tree which casts a dozy shade from the sun. Most pleasingly to Tommy, the yard stretches around both sides of the house, putting him a decent distance away from his neighbours. The house itself is small, a one-story, two-bedroom Spanish revival thing he'd bought in the market crash, but he'd wanted it for the double-garage and the spacious yard, and he's never once regretted buying it for those reasons. He's glad his boyfriend likes it too, but the way he's currently mapping around the base of the Palo Verde tree with a measuring tape is putting a kind of dread in Tommy's stomach that he can't accurately explain.

"Evan, can you communicate with me in some kind of human language? My usual mindreading powers have been dampened by the fact I'm still half asleep. Why are you measuring my tree?"

Briefly and optimistically, Tommy thinks maybe Evan just wants to host a barbecue. Maybe he's plotting space for a slip'n'slide for the 118's kids, or something. But unfortunately -

"It's for the bees!" Evan tells him, bouncing back towards Tommy. He's got a smile like an angel. Tommy's stomach erupts in butterflies like he's not a fucking forty year old man as Evan slides both his arms around Tommy's waist, pulls him close, the warm smell of him invading Tommy's space. "I know you haven't forgotten - I texted you!"

Tommy remembers the texts, which he'd sent a couple heart emojis back to the night before immediately prior to passing out from a shift from hell. Evan had sent him some fun facts about the importance of pollinators and a link to a local bee society saying he wanted to 'get involved'. Tommy had thought maybe Evan was planning to volunteer the firehouse for an awareness event, at most.

Now, a much more worrying reality is worming its way into his vision.

"Evan," Tommy says, "Please tell me I am not getting bees."

"Babe," Evan says, sounding exasperated. "Of course not. I know you don't really like insects. I'm getting bees. I just need to keep them in your garden because my landlord said no to putting them on my balcony."

Evan rolls his eyes, like that is somehow a ridiculous stance in his opinion. And, look. Tommy is a tough guy. He was raised tough. He knows how to hunt, how to shoot a gun. He doesn't like that stuff, but he's done it. He's seen war, he's seen tragedies as a firefighter. He's seen people die, he's held people's guts inside their bodies with his bare hands. He's not scared of bugs.

He just doesn't like them or the way their weird legs move or the way they buzz around your head when Tommy thinks helicopters should be the only things allowed to fly.

He adores Evan's enthusiasm for the natural world and seemingly endless well of untapped optimism. It's a huge part of why Tommy has fallen so hard and fast he can't even see the sky anymore. But in this moment he does, in fact, briefly consider locking Evan out of his home forever.

"Evan, we are not putting bees in my garden. No way. You don't have time to come here every day and I'm not gonna look after them when you're working!"

"They don't need looking after every day! They're not like puppies, Tommy. I promise, you won't even notice they're there."

Evan kisses the cleft of Tommy's chin and then the hinge of his jaw with his hot wet mouth. Inside, the coffee machine beeps. He can't believe he's having this conversation without caffeine.

"I'm pretty sure I will notice they're there, on account of the fact my garden will be full of bees."

Evan's thick, calloused fingers are sliding underneath the hem of Tommy's t-shirt, rubbing at the taut skin of his waist.

"Don't you want to help the pollinators, Tommy?" Evan asks. Tommy looks to the heavens and thinks, help. "Plus, think of everything we'd be able to bake with the honey! Have you ever had honey cake? I bet you'd like it."

"Evan." Tommy attempts to sound firm. He's not really a firm sort of guy. He's more a go-with-the-flow, embrace-the-chaos sort. But there are occasional moments, like this one right here, where push comes to shove, and you just have to put your foot down. "We are not getting bees."

Evan pouts.

______

They get bees.

#look. idk what this is but i have to throw one out to the bee plot since they PERSONALLY validated my url 100 times in the premiere #bucktommy #evan buckley #tommy kinard #bucktommy fic #mine #drabbles #my fic #i'm trying to get back into their voices/headspace so i can finish my wip fic also but idk #911 abc #911 fic

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gassydumbjocks · 2 months ago

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Virilite 1:

Boys will be boys

Ever since I spiked my nephew Liam's beer with a strange pill I found online when he and my brother came to watch a football match, that boy has been acting like a man, as he should.

You see, my brother Noah had a son who, don't get me wrong, I love this boy with all my soul, but god damn he had to grow up and start acting like what he was, a dude, always wearing those girly crop tops and tight-fitting jeans with bright colors because "that's who he was", I admit that I was clearly upset when he revealed to the family that he was gay, but even so I couldn't do anything and neither could Noah, so we decided to accept him as he was, until I found a way to... make him act as he should.

While looking at online articles I found this article online that was supposed to be some pills that could have an effect on the behavior and actions of the person that took them, yes, I know, very science fiction-like, still, what caught my attention was the name and objective of the pill, "Virilite" was its name, and it promised to also have an effect on the levels of testosterone produced in men, which ended up convincing me to buy it.

The instructions were simple, put them in the drink or food that said man was going to consume, once ingested the guy would enter an immediate state of trance, able to only follow the orders that another person suggested in his mind, there were even images of test subjects boys who I assume took the pill, they all had a relaxed yet funny expression, eyes crossed and some even with tongues sticking out like dogs, I couldn't help but laugh at the thought of Liam looking like that.

Just as i was now, immediatly after i got Liam to drink it after offering him a beer, he letted out an involuntary loud and guttural deep belch, which from what i knew and readed online was a sign that the pill already took effect, i had Liam in front of me with a dumb smile and an eye-crossed, glazed over look, like that huge burp just took away all his thoughts and personality.

After the first 5 minutes of calling his name and getting no response, i actually started to worry, he couldn't stay as a brainless zombie-like dumbass all his life, and Noah would find out and kill me for it, i tried to remember, i took the pill's container and readed again the instructions.

"Ohh, so i have to, uh, kinda program him?" i said and then i thought of things i could make him do, i certainly bought those pills to make the kid more like a man... So, hell, what a man i would mold out of him.

I heard him let out a dumb chuckle still with that goofy smile from before, i smirked and approached "Liam, buddy, you hear me champ, you hear uncle Dave?" i asked to make sure he could indeed hear me, he slowly nodded and let out some hiccups "great, cuz we got a lot of work to do on you, and im sure you'll love it" i say.

I think of the first command to give him, they suggest to use short and simple commands, there are plenty of manly things he needs to learn, but i think i can cover up basic stuff, i remember Noah and me asking him to join us in our protein farting contests when we relaxed in our man cave watching our team, while Liam just grimaced and waved his hand, saying it was immature and gross, i would make him change his opinion, so it was obvious what would be the command "Liam...fart, loudly and proudly, c'mon" i literally order him to fart, i just wanted to test the effectiveness of the command obeying.

Without hesitation, he lifts his right leg as high as he can, leaving his butt in the air, before a barrage of gas goes out his butt.

PPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRTTTTTTTTTT!!!!

Its so strong, big and beefy, even for me, i have to wave the smell and open a window nearby "good lord boy! Where in the hell did you got all that gas from!?" i ask impressed, and try to recover before continuing "ok ok lets keep up!, umm, belch, a nice deep man belch" i say, waiting for it.

I didn't even have to wait when he was already patting his chest and squinting an eye to help the gas release.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRPPP!!!

And holy fuck, if Liam was concious, he'd know that beast burp would have easily beat his old man and me in our oftens belch offs, the pill was clearly making a miracle on him.

I was admitidly having fun on my nephew making all the stuff he found "gross" and "immature" under a pill's control, i gave him another command, just to get a good laugh "Liam, do some armpit farts, but in the last one, you'll ask me to pull your finger, you'll let out a monster fart, got it?" i asked and he nodded again, he then started with the manly symphony, he took a hand down one of his pits and started to produce the nasty sounds.

PPPPPRRRRTTT

PPPPPPRRRRRRTTT

PPPPPPRRRRRTT

PPPPPPPRRRRRTT

I saw him stop and put hand on his gut, then he talked goofily "uncle, pull my finger" he asked dumbly before laughing and extend his hand at me, i gladly accepted "oh of course kiddo, let me help you with that" i smirked and pulled it hard, unleashing the beast gas he had stuck in his rump.

PPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!

An ABSOLUTELY disgusting deep-ass and loud, nasty fart erupted from him, Liam never losing the crossed look on his face, as he hiked exaggerately his leg to force the fart out, i was shocked, but in the end, finally proud of him, i couldn't wait for Noah to see what he could do! We would think on more funny stuff to do at our just guys nights! After all, boys will be boys, right?

#mind control #male farts #male burp #alpha man #iq loss

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ellieluvr420 · 10 months ago

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wife Abby headcanons xoxo

-You met at a bar when your friend cancelled on you last minute, she offered to buy you a drink and you chatted at the bar until she invited you back to hers, this was back when you were 22 and she was 25 so her flat was more modest but still well decorated and clean. You both shared a bottle of wine and sat and spoke more for hours until you were both so drunk you started doing karaoke together by watching youtube videos on her TV, she invited you out to an actual karaoke bar as your second date and she only fell even more in love with you the more she saw you.

-I think she would work in corporate like a lawyer or investment banker or something so I think she would try and work from home as much as they would let her.

-She looks so funny when she works from home too because she wears work clothes on her top half for her zoom calls but then she would be wearing pj bottoms and her slippers on her bottom half.

-Such a victim of Apple's marketing, always insists she needs the newest phone or whatever they had brought out, she has the watch, the phone, an ipad, an imac, macbook pro, airpod pros and airpod max's. Literally everything they sell because she's actually a tech geek at heart.

"I totally need it."

"Give me one reason you need an iPad Abigail."

"...I don't know, it's just cool."

You roll your eyes at her but chuckle at her insistence as you press a small kiss to her pouty lips. She smiles at you and looks like a child on Christmas day as she orders her new toy.

-She would so wear the airpod max's while working out and i think she'd always have one of those gallon water bottles that she'd take everywhere with her.

"Babe please just let me buy you one, trust me it will make you drink so much more water."

"No it won't, do not waste your money seriously." She'd huff at your stubbornness and go and buy you one anyway.

-I think she would workout at night or during the day if she can fit it in which rarely happens because she enjoys her mornings with you where you guys cuddle and chat and have breakfast together before she goes to work or gets started in the home office

-Does majority of the cooking because she really enjoys it and is also a chef, like she whips up three course meals so regularly like its nothing.

-You try and make dinner together on the weekends which equates to her micromanaging you until she gets too stressed watching you mess up and does it herself while you sit on the counter entertaining her.

-She always goes to sleep as big spoon and always wakes up as little spoon, every night, without failure. Also loves to lay on your stomach with her arms around your waist, one of her fav cuddling positions.

-She's the kind of person to ignore and persevere through a cold until she literally passes out and will get mad at you when you have to force her to rest but once she's comfy and has accepted she's ill she's such a baby.

-She would be so good with kids and they would all love her too like when you would go to family gatherings together all the kids would always be glued to her pulling her every which way

-loves dogs and cats and wants two of each

-loves home date nights where you cook together and watch films or play games whether its board, video or card games. Once you bought a fake police file and tried to figure out who the murderer was, it ended in a huge argument because you couldn't agree on who it was, you were so annoyed you made her sleep on the sofa but in the middle of night she sauntered back into your room and climbs into bed cuddling into you.

"Sorry babe, you were right." She kisses your forehead and you smile as you both go to sleep happily, Abby had managed to find the answer online but she didn't tell you that you were in fact wrong, she would rather be in bed cuddling you than prove she was right.

-I think she would want 3 kids, preferably boy, girl, boy or vice versa but she would be happy with any kids.

-If/when kids come along she starts working from home primarily and you watch them grow together.

-She would eventually want to move away from the city where she lived for an easy commute to work to a beautiful house in the country with large fields behind a huge back garden where the dogs and cats, and ducks all play with the kids.

-She would love reading crime thriller books but she also has a guilty pleasure for romance and sometimes she'll sit in bed with you and read you parts of the books. Can imagine older Abby refusing to get reading glasses because that makes her officially old but she’s literally holding the book as far as it will go and squinting so hard and she still can’t read it, you eventually give in and read it to her which only motivates her to not get glasses more because this was a way better option.

-Loves Family Guy, American Dad, South Park, all those kind of shows but if you put on a drama she'll grumble and then be hooked.

"Oh my god, oh my god, are you fucking kidding me? Noooooooo." Abby yells at the screen as she watches the season 1 finale of vampire diaries with you, you had started rewatching it as it was nostalgic and she made fun of you so much until you forced her to watch the episode you were watching.

Like I could so see her watching greys anatomy and sobbing when there's a major character death

-Goes to get mani pedis with you and she'll always get her nails painted to match the colour of yours even when you'd pick super bright to mess with her she'd get it without batting an eye.

-Of course she gets along super well with all your friends and family, sometimes you think they love her more than you 😀

okay that's all I got for now but I will probs do way more once the series is finished :))

#abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x reader #abby the last of us #abby x reader #abby anderson #abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson x fem!reader #abby tlou #tlou abby #abby anderson tlou #abby x fem!reader

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hotmencoreplus · 1 year ago

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𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧 ‘𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭’ 𝐑𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐲’𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫

Pairing: Simon Riley x sister!reader (she/her)

Summary: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, the infamous, relentless and fearless Task Force 141 soldier. And the particulars of him being the guardian of his baby sister.

Warnings: Talks of war and deployment, mentions of a traumatic childhood, language. Attempted to do it chronologically, but have added bits here and there

Word count: 3300+

A/N: Basing this off the theory that he is mid 30’s in mw2.

Likes and reblogs are much appreciated! Copying and reposts are not! My fics are only posted on tumblr, under this sideblog @hotmencoreplus for the account, @hotmencore

‣ Simon wasn’t at all prepared to be an older brother, but when he saw you, he knew it was his job to protect his little baby sister.

‣ You were the only one who was fortunate enough to not be killed by Washington, so when Simon was made aware of your survival, he took you in as his own.

‣ He doubted himself at first, fearing he would turn out like his dad, but also didn’t want to abandon you like he had been as a child.

‣ He wasn’t experienced in any way shape or form with taking care of a baby, so most of his days when not on deployment consisted of him watching youtube videos and going online to figure out how to do stuff and take care of you properly.

‣ When on deployment, he left you with a trusted neighbour who he had known for years before. (I feel like this would either be like a man who he would call his ‘best friend’ when home, or an old woman who has kids of her own, that use to babysit him)

‣ He would spoil you the best he could, and make you as happy as possible, not wanting you to have a childhood anything remotely like his.

‣ He definitely still gets help off of google for some things. He isn’t really too good with knowledge on ‘girly’ things.

‣ When home, you and him would always sit at the kitchen table of an evening, you playing with barbies whilst he sat across from you modding his rifle. As you got older, it would be the same just you with homework. You didn’t speak much when sat with each other, though it was always a comfortable silence for the both of you.

‣ Once when in primary school, you came home with a pout as you were jealous of your classmates pigtails and plaits, seeing that Simon only really knew how to brush your hair. So that night, he spent an hour watching videos over and over so that he could learn how to plait your hair.

‣ He felt stupid watching the videos, and frustrated that it took him so long to get the hang of it, but he knew it was all worth it when he saw the grin on your face the next morning as you looked at your hair in the mirror to see it all pretty and plaited.

‣ He also felt the same each birthday or christmas when you were little, worried that the little amount that he was able to get you wouldn’t be enough to make you happy. But 100% of the time, it was just him underestimating himself.

‣ When you were young, he never bothered to mention his own birthday. But one year when with your neighbour, you found out his birthday was a couple days after he came back from deployment. So you saved up money for the 2 weeks before he came back, and bought him a little teddy bear and a bar of chocolate. You also made him a little loom band bracelet, and haphazardly wrapped them up and hid them under your bed.

‣ When his birthday did arrive, you came downstairs to him in the living room, holding the parcel out in front of him. He lifted you up onto his lap, taking the parcel from you. “What’s this?” He asked, looking at it as he peeled his fingers from the cellotape of which you’d badly wrapped it with.

‣ “Happy birthday” you say softly with a smile, and that right there made Simon’s heart melt. He unwrapped the gift, and held the bear out in front of him. You looked at him eagerly, though his expression was confusing to you. “I hope you like it” you say with a slight hint of doubt. But Simon smiles at you, yes, smiles, and pulls you closer to him, placing a small kiss on your cheek, “I love it, thank you Y/N” he says, and the grin returns to your face.

‣ Simon had never felt more appreciated by anyone in his life.

‣ He let you off that one morning to share the chocolate with him, after eagerly placing the loom band on his large wrist, showing him that you now had matching ones.

‣ And he wears it everyday, even on deployment, under his uniform.

‣ And he still does to this day, years later.

‣ He also has a tattoo tucked away somewhere that he got for you, most likely your initials.

‣ When he first joined 141, Price was the only one who knew about you, and that Simon was the one who took care of you.

‣ He knew from Ghost’s files, as when he joined the task force, you were at the age where Simon wanted you written down as who was told when he died.

‣ You were at the age where it was harder to just pretend he never existed. Because when you were a baby, that was his plan. Before he joined it was your neighbour that was put down, just as a telling that you would need to be put in someone else's care.

‣ When Ghost requested the change to his file, he asked Price that someone could go over and tell you in person, rather than just a phone call, or his dog tags through the mail. Which caused for him to have to let Price know of your existence.

‣ He also asked for Price to tell Laswell, as he trusted her and wanted someone there for you who was in the UK more than he was, and in case both him and Price were on a mission/ far away.

‣ He also did it as he believed that you needed at least one female figure somewhat a part of your life, though you've only met her like once or twice.

‣ It takes a good amount of time and full trust in a person for Simon to be comfortable with them meeting you, or even just knowing of you. Which is why Johnny found out so randomly.

‣ You were late pre-teens when Simon was coming home from deployment, and got a call from his friend, apologising that he couldn’t pick him up from base. Johnny overheard the conversation and insisted that he dropped Simon off, though he was perfectly fine getting a taxi.

‣ Simon did message you to stay in the house, but you weren’t paying any mind to your phone, just looking out the window waiting for his arrival. Your own excitement blinded you to the fact it wasn’t the car of Simon’s friend dropping him off, so when you saw his skull mask through the car window, you jumped off the couch and ran out the door to him without a second thought. You didn’t hesitate in giving him a massive hug, which, though Johnny hadn’t pulled off yet, Simon reciprocated, as he knew there was no way of exactly hiding you now.

‣ It wasn’t at all that he didn’t trust Johnny enough, Simon just always felt awkward bringing it up and didn’t expect the circumstances of which he was in, so wasn’t prepared at all.

‣ Soap didn’t like to pry, but was curious and immensely shocked to see a young girl run out of his house and jump onto Simon’s huge frame. He knew it couldn’t have been his daughter as Simon would have simply been far too young for that to be true. So he made the conclusion of you being his sister, and tried to keep it to himself.

‣ Though on the next deployment, Johnny did ask about the young girl he saw, and with a grumble of a reply, he then understood that his guesses were correct. By then he trusted Gaz enough as well, so the whole of 141 eventually knew of Simon’s little sister.

‣ Simon keeps a little photograph of you in his uniform, in an inside breast pocket, above his heart. It’s a photo of you when you were little, the first year he put aside his fears, and took you trick-or-treating. You were dressed as a little fairy, grinning up at the camera, your face covering most of the shot as you leant forwards into the frame.

‣ You two don’t have any proper photos with each other, apart from one from when it was your birthday one year, and you told Simon that the only thing you wanted was a photo of the two of you together. So Simon begrudgingly granted your wish after a lot of convincing.

‣ In the photo, you are stood next to each other in the hallway of your home, you grinning with your short arms attempting to wrap around his large waist, and him stood looking emotionless with his simple skull mask on, his arm behind you resting on your back.

‣ It wouldn’t look sentimental at all to anyone else, but you treasured it. It stays on your bedside cabinet, with one of his old dog tags that he let you keep. You also have another old one of his attached to the zip of your school backpack.

‣ Simon never really decorated your room too much when you were younger, as he was new to the whole thing and decided that he would let you do it with him when you were older and found your own passions and interests. So first off for several years your room consisted of a small single bed, a wardrobe, and littles shelves for your toys, all of which he built with you sat on the floor of your room with him one day.

‣ But when you did find yourself and what you liked, you both spent a couple days decorating it. As it was just you and Simon in the house, you weren’t ever very ‘girly’ so the walls were painted a pale blue, and he bought you some new shelves and some fairy lights/ LED’s to hang up around your bed.

‣ When you use to get nightmares or just couldn’t fall asleep, you would sneak into Simon’s room, and wake him up so that you could stay with him. Although due to his own nightmares, was usually awake before you came in anyways. But there was something he secretly found so sweet about hearing your little feet try to quietly pad down the hallway to his room.

‣ He never minded, because he had nightmares all the time. Simon would never admit it, not even to his baby sister, but he enjoyed the nights where he would have her with him. Because in the long run it did actually help him fall asleep, knowing he wasn’t completely on his own.

‣ He had you.

‣ Due to him being away quite a lot, you have been aware of his job since you were little.

‣ Though when you got older, you wanted to know more about it. Simon didn’t really want to tell you much, as he didn't believe it was something he wanted his sister knowing about, but after so much pestering from you, he caved in. You learnt about his callsign, and how he always wore the skull mask.

‣ Once meeting Soap properly, he was the one to tell you about how infamous your brother really was on the field.

‣ You found it pretty cool that you were one of the only people in the entire world who new what the Simon Riley truly looked like, and secretly took pride in it.

‣ You have always known Simon with and without his mask, so it never feels weird. He rarely wore it when you were a toddler, though when you were first born he mostly kept it on, scared his scars were gonna frighten you.

‣ But the first time he took it off in front of you, you babbled and giggled, and reached out to his face. So from then on, he didn’t bother wearing it around you.

‣ There was one occasion when he came to pick you up from a neighbours after almost a year long deployment, and you were shy with him. It hurt Simon a bit, and made him feel guilty for not being there, and that you had grown so much in the time he was away. But the feeling soon melted away once your neighbour gave you a little push from behind their leg, you softening in Simon’s touch as he held you close in his arms.

‣ His teenage years were the most traumatic for him, so when you transitioned into yours, he became even more protective of you. You sometimes fought over this, and Simon felt bad, but you knew that he was doing it because he wanted nothing more than for you to be safe.

‣ When he bought you your first phone, he definitely made you have Life360 or something like it, so that he knows where you are just in case he needs it.

‣ He would never go crazy on where you were and who you were with. He trusted you. But when away, every night before he went to bed himself, or whenever it was late in the UK timezone, he would check that you were at home. It made him relax slightly about being away, knowing that you were safe.

‣ You were about 15 when you were properly introduced to the 141 team, as behind Soap’s teasing and pestering, Simon knew that you needed some other adult figures in your life. So, much to your own surprise, he messaged you asking if you wanted to come get him from base one time with his neighbour.

‣ You knew that Simon wasn’t really much of a physical affection type of guy, but you could never resist when he was coming back home after a deployment. And even less so now that you were able to come to base. But he also knew that much to his dislike for the public display of it, there was nothing he could do to stop you from doing so.

‣ And with that fact in mind, he knew he had to reciprocate the gesture, so when you did run up to him with your arms out, for a second he forgot about that fact the rest of the guys wouldn’t let cold old ‘Ghost’ hear the end of it, and wrapped one arm around you, lifting you up with ease, his bags clutched in his other hand. You practically squealed to him how much you’d missed him, as he mumbled back in your ear that he did you, too. Lucky for him the others didn't hear that.

‣ Once he had put you down, he very much awkwardly introduced you to the others in a grumbly tone.

‣ When you turned to them, the first thing that they all collectively noticed were your eyes.

‣ You had Simon’s eyes.

‣ Johnny’s hello was an enthusiastic “Good to finally meet you lass,” Simon glaring at Soap, aware of the amusement this brought him, knowing his lieutenant was annoyed as hell.

‣ Gaz nodded at you with a smile, and Price said hello in a deep but warm tone, looking on at you with an almost proud gaze.

‣ Price didn’t know what to expect when Soap loudly made everyone aware of Ghost’s new visitor at base pick up, as Johnny was the only one of them who had seen you before to recognise you as Ghost's sister, though they knew you existed (much to their inital surprise). But when you turned to the rest of the team without hesitance, Price instantly felt an even higher level of respect towards Simon as it was clear from your confident and polite hello that he had raised you well.

‣ Much to Simon’s own self doubt.

‣ One night when the 141 were all at a bar, Price quietly told Simon about how he had done well with you, knowing that he was definitely uncertain of his own worth in your life. But Simon heard the sincerity in his Captain’s voice, and with a quick look of appreciation towards John, he then didn’t doubt himself as much as he had before.

‣ Simon sometimes does mess up though with his language around you, only recently now that you have gotten older. But he isn’t too fussed, just as long as he doesn't hear you repeat any of it.

‣ Seeing that it is only you two in the house 24/7, you both surprisingly get on really well, and there have only been a rare few occasions when he has had to put his foot down.

‣ But these rare occasions would mainly consist of something silly to the point that he got sick of your nagging, like when you begged him to have ice cream for breakfast.

‣ “Please Simon, just this once-“

‣ “No, Y/N! You said that last time. Now drop it.”

‣ There have definitely been times where neither of you can sleep, and now that you're older, you both just sit with each other in comfortable silence. Occasionally just putting a random film on in the living room, but most of the time you would just be at the kitchen table, with a bowl of cereal at like 2am. That is until, and this is 98% of the time, you fall asleep with your head on the table and Simon has to carry you to your room.

‣ When you got to the age where Simon was comfortable with you in the house on your own, you once mentioned to him that the first day of him being away was always the hardest, and that it felt really weird in the house.

‣ You both knew he couldn’t do much about that, but he tried little things to make it somewhat bearable.

‣ For instance, he knows one of your favourite things is leftover takeaway from when you two have one, so the night before every deployment, he always orders takeaway for dinner so that there is always some in the fridge for you on the first day of him being gone.

‣ It’s the little things that Simon does for you despite his mostly cold heart that mean the most to you.

‣ On long deployments, you write Simon letters for him to read. You do message him too, but prefer writing them, as you know he will write back, which you feel is more sincere. His letters are never as long or heartfelt as yours, but you know your brother, and that he loves you dearly.

‣ His replies would often be a few sentences, praising you on anything that you would mention about school or just exciting stuff in general, signing off with ‘Simon’, and a barely noticeable ‘x’ next to it.

‣ You keep every single one of the letters he sends back, your favourites being the ones that he would occasionally send to you, first. And secretly Simon does the same, keeping your letters tucked away in his bag under his bed.

‣ He tells you unless its an emergency, that you should stick to letters or texts, so that he can still stay focused with his job and that if you do one day call him, he knows straight away that it’s an urgent matter.

‣ There was one time when you forgot about the emergency rule, and called him to tell him you passed a test you had been stressing about.

‣ He was about to shout down the line asking what was wrong and where you were until you beat him to it with a loud “I PASSED SIMON, I PASSED THE TEST!”

‣ “That’s amazing Y/N, but you just scared the fucking life out of me.”

‣ “Oh crap. I forgot, sorry. But I passed!!!”

‣ "Great love. I'm proud of you. But next time stick it in a letter, yeah?"

#call of duty #modern warfare 2 #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #simon riley x sister!reader #platonic #task force 141 x reader #task force 141 #task force 141 platonic #soap x reader #captain price x reader #gaz x reader #modern warfare x reader #simon ghost riley x reader

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isadollie · 4 months ago

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Hello! I saw your headcanon requests are open, could I request headcanons for husband! and dad!Kenma (with fem wife reader). Kenma is such a sweetheart, I feel like family life with him would be so cute. If possible, I'd like the baby to be a little boy that looks so much like Kenma, but I'd be happy with whatever you write. I hope that is ok. Tysm <3

husband! and dad! Kenma [headcanons]

fem!reader, post-timsekip ofc, just pure fluff i guess lol

★ he never really imagined to have kids of his own but.. here he is

★ when he first found out you're pregnant was like super scared lol

★ "how am i supposed to take care of a baby when i barely manage to take care of myself"

★ ...ouch.

★ anyway..

★ first thing he did was to call Kuroo and ask what he should do

★ was just so clueless

★ kept on repeating he's gonna mess it up

★ but he didn't!

★ a few months into your pregnancy, he was already a pro at taking care of you lol

★ he became soo excited, but like.. internally. he's not really the type to jump around and shout in happiness yk

★ decided to keep it a secret from his fans, cause he wanted to ensure that both of you are safe

★ first thing he bought for the baby was a tiny cat onesie with like little ears you know

★ also bought some family friendly video games...

★ ...and tiny headphones with a mic (where did he get that tho--)

★ but then his baby is born and he's like:

★ kinda have a feeling like it was his first time seeing a baby this small in general

★ is definitely too nervous to hold his son at first

★ super anxioussss

★ but then with time he learns

★ he's a good dad!!

★ i can defo picture him napping with his son lol

★ also he learned to cook when you were pregnant so that you could rest more

★ now uses this knowledge to feed the two of you

★ my boy had to get a whole bookshelf for cooking books and how-to-take-care-of-a-baby books

★ nah jk he looked it all up online

★ i think he'll be very protective too

★ like when your son grows up a bit, there is absolutely no way that Kenma will let him cross the road unless he holds his hand 😤

★ also you have to stop him a bit cause he would buy this kid everything he asked just like that

★ "daddy look! *points to the car toy he sees in the shopwindow* it's so cool!"

★ and then next day you see a whole ass car in front of your house... not a toy.

★ it's both funny and annoying to be honest

★ in the end you did keep the car though

★ whenever someone mentions that his son looks just like him he would be SO PROUD

★ his whole phone gallery is now basically photos of the three of you and your pets

★ would scoff at Kuroo anytime he calls himself an "uncle" or even worse "the coolest uncle"

★ to sum it all up, Kenma never thought of becoming a father but now that it actually happened... he's thinking of having another kiddo :P

this was actually so much fun to write!!! thanks for the request :3

#anime #haikyū!!#kenma x reader #haikyuu kenma #hq kenma #kozume kenma #kenma #haikyuu!!#haikyu #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #nekoma #kuroo x reader #hq kuroo #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo testuro

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bonny-kookoo · 11 months ago

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Does someone older JK spoil the OC sometimes? Like surprise her with something which he considerd to be nothing it would mean so much to her?

Oh he does, ALL the time! Warnings for a bit of angst, beginnings of a panic attack but Kook handles it well

"...we can go there again, maybe before new year's if I can get a table on short notice." He simply says as he drives you both back to his place, radio playing quietly in the background.

You're still a little overwhelmed.

He does things like this a lot- expensive dinner dates in restaurants he either knows or wants to try out, randomly buying you clothes or jewelry he finds online and deems pretty, or he just changes things in his house to adjust it more towards you and your preferences. Like the pillows in his bedroom, the by now multiple pairs of thick socks for your cold feet, or the baking supplies he bought for you now stacking up in his kitchen.

It's things like that you're not used to. In the past, it has always been you who needed to adjust and do things for your partner- not the other way around. So now, you feel almost guilty whenever he does something- like a bank account draining, slowly going further and further into the negatives, red numbers piling up and making you anxious as to when he'll want it all payed back.

"Did you not like it?" He wonders, taking your silence as a sign of discomfort as he pulls up on the expressway. "You don't have to lie." He chuckles, reaching out to hold your hand.

"No, it's not that." You deny, letting him warm up your cold fingers. "It's just.. it was a little expensive, no?" You wonder, and he shrugs.

"Was it? To be honest, I don't think it was considering what we ate." He just brushes off. "I've been to steak restaurants that were a lot more expensive and half the quality. And the service was great too, so I didn't mind." Jungkook explains, and it's now that you realize once again that you and him live in quite different worlds. Or at least, used to.

For him, money isn't an issue. He's made and is making enough of it to live comfortably, he doesn't have to really worry about running out of it anytime soon, even if his company was to go bankrupt next week. And he's also got enough saved up, has invested with good tactics in mind, so it's really no wonder he doesn't see a problem in spending the amount that he does.

But you aren't used to that. You have been living paycheck to paycheck with barely anything left over at the end of the month, needing your bonus desperately as to not fall behind on any payments you have to make regularly. You've lost your apartment before, had to sleep at friend's places to get by, and even ate only at the company cafeteria to save money usually spent on groceries. All of this feels almost excessive, and you also worry.

What if Jungkook starts spending too much on you? He shouldn't fall into a habit of mindlessly throwing money out.

"What's on your mind, darling?" He wonders, lifting your hand to kiss the back of it, before he changes lanes.

"I just.." you fidget a little. Jungkook isn't a bad guy. He won't get mad. He won't scold you. You won't have to endure being lectured for the rest of the ride- you know all this, and yet again, the past haunts you and makes your breathing pick up as you begin to chew on your lip.

Suddenly, you realize he's pulling up to a gas station, parking on the side. He gets out to get something from the backseat, before he walks around the car to open the passenger door where you sit, unbuckling your seatbelt. "Here." he offers the bottle of water, having opened the cap for you. "Put your legs out like that- there we go. Breathe baby." He gently tells you, squatting down a bit to make himself look smaller. "Take your time."

You feel embarrassed. How do you explain to him that you were feeling like a kid about to confess a bad grade just now?

"We can keep it a one-in-a-month thing, maybe, if that makes you more comfortable." He proposes. "I didn't take into account that it might be overwhelming to you- I'm sorry." He apologizes, but you shake your head, looking down at your knees.

"I just.." You mumble, unsure how to really explain. "I feel.. back then, you know.." You sigh, having trouble finding the proper words. "Talking in the car makes me.. anxious." You admit. "Because you know, when you get mad.. I can't escape.." You say. "I can't get away from it."

Jungkook kindly takes the bottle away from you to put it on the backseat again, before he's back in front of you.

"Thanks for telling me. I had an idea it might be that, but I wasn't sure." Jungkook says, hands on your knees. "I promise you I'm not mad. And I'm in no position to be mad at you for having opinions or personal taste that might differs from mine. We're two different people-" He chuckles. "-of course we'll have different views on things."

"But I really liked the dinner too." You say. "I just.. I don't want you to start.. spending so much money on me to the point of, I don't know, losing sight of it." You confess. "And maybe, we should keep stuff like this a bit rare? So it doesn't become routine. I want to keep it special.." You say. "I'm not.. I don't really know much about this stuff, because I never had enough money to go to these fancy places, and get designer clothes, or plan vacations in different countries and all that. I feel.. stupid sometimes?" You spill, making him lean his head a bit to the side. "Like, what if you one day take me to a company gathering or something, and someone asks me something and I can't answer or I say something dumb-" You rant. "-or maybe you won't ever take me because I'm too young? Maybe Eve is right and I'm not really the kind of-"

"Baby, darling, stop-" He chuckles, pushing your shoulders back a bit to look at him. "-take a good breath. You're panicking." He worries a little, but tries hard to stay composed as to not make you spiral any further. "Eve is wrong. If you're okay with this, of course I'll take you to company events. Why wouldn't I show off such a beautiful women at my side? I'd never pass up a chance to make those stuck up geezers jealous." He jokes, making your crack up a little. "Let's keep the dinners to special occasions. Keep it special, like you said." He offers, holding your hands now. "And I'm also.. the fact that you worry about me makes me feel.. very special." he chuckles. "I appreciate you looking out for me."

"I always look out for you.." You mumble. "..I just don't want to overstep any lines. You know. Since you're older than me-"

"Just because I'm older doesn't automatically mean that I know everything better." He reassures you. "Our age gap has nothing to do with any sort of power balance. Please don't think you can't speak your mind just because I was born earlier than you."

"..okay." You nod, and he leans forward to peck your lips, before he closes the door for you after you pull your legs back in and buckle your seatbelt, him getting back into the driver's seat to do the same.

"You know.." he starts, as he pulls out of the gas station to continue the drive back home. "..I'm really falling in love with you." He chuckles, dimples of his cheeks showing with how hard he smiles.

"Huh?" You wonder, taken aback by the sudden confession.

"I mean it." He nods. "I really am."

"I'm glad then." You admit. "..cause I am too." You admit, making him grin before he reaches over to hold your hand again.

Knowing that he really won't ever let you go again.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #bts jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook fanfic

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makncheese12 · 2 years ago

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Top Shelf

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

Jenna Ortega x fem!reader

Masterlist

Summary: being the kid of a well-known book store owner was easy, so was running into famous people. But being book smart doesn’t make everyone people smart.

Warnings: my writing, language(bad words😯), my attempt at being funny, mention of gun shots and head shots, mentions of my favorite book(literally love Ruta Sepetys sm omg.

A/N: part 2? I am going to make you all suffer through the most oblivious slow burn. R if going to be so dumb/oblivious it’ll hurt you all🫶🏻

Word count - 3.6k

Credits: @novmoth (my friend from school who feeds into my delusions and gives me more ideas for this story🫶🏻)

(bare with me English is not my first language🥲 I’m getting help from my friend to edit it)

You were born to it.

The books. The films. The music and video games.

It was your life, literally. With your parents being owners of the infamous establishment called ‘top shelf’, you had no choice but to.

And you wouldn’t ever change.

Books upon books, movie after movie, games old and new and music that could last you weeks. Who would want to change such a life?

Your father was the first to start it.

He was poor man in Washington but had just enough money to buy it from the man who owned the small movie shop before he retired. He slowly started added book shelves and video games to the mix. Getting few customers but enough to survive day to day during the time of his early years

Your mother was a wealthy run away. Wanting something different and new in her life when she met your father. The man was playing on his game boy behind the counter before he saw her.

The poor boy and his run away wife, a classic really.

The rest after that is history.

As soon as they found out your mother was pregnant with you, they used the rest of her money they saved and went to New York where they bought the huge abandoned apartment complex.

They broke all the insides down and built what you now know as your second home. Hundreds of video games, films and music in one section and thousands of books in another.

Thus, Top Shelf was born only two weeks after you.

You met many friends there in the comfort section where students and business people worked as you all goofed off.

Your had also met your small friend group during your younger years, the four of you all never letting your father have the peace he wanted and dragging him all over New York.

With the thousands of books and hundreds of video games and films your parents sold, you had money. Lots of it.

But your mother made sure you never let that get the best of you, never. It went against everything she went for when she ran away.

She would make sure you would work for and earn everything you got, always.

She never let you have too much online activity, in case her family found you and made sure you were both street smart and book smart.

Your neighbors made sure you were street smart more than anything but you still gave her credit for trying.

Though, the book store was beautiful in every season. Winter was a favorite and when it was busiest. It was too your favorite.

Your father lighting the public fire place, your mother setting soft seasonal music, hell even the cheesy Christmas cartoons on the TV’s set the mood for the perfect bookstore vibe.

The lights dim just enough to where it almost felt like dark academy yet the plants that grew down the upstairs railing made the entire place feel more alive.

————

“Bullshit!” You yell out as you throw your head back onto the head rest of your chair, groaning loudly as the photo sound of your death snapped in your ears.

“Man, he’s fucking using cheats!” Dru calls out through the mic before his name pops up above to yours in dark red on the screen as you respawn.

“Of course he is, he’s a pussy.” Mj says, as her name, too, pops up on the screen.

“Oh come on, guys!” Lyle says through his staticky mic. “You all just suck.” He laughs

“Now I know your cheating, dude. Your mic is acting up again, just like last time!” Dru says, the sound of his voice booming louder than needed and you roll my eyes.

“DD, just because you like to replay games without using cheats doesn’t mean the rest of us do.” Lyle says in a matter-of-fact tone.

“It’s multiplayer, stupid! It’s meant to be fair for everyone!” Dru says making you snort. “Says the guy who chases around little kids and steals their horses making them cry.” Mj says making Dru blow into his mic making loud, unnecessary noises.

“Quit that!” You say taking one head phone off your ear. “Tsk tsk tsk,” Lyle starts. “Such a sore loser.”

“I’ll show you sore loser, get on Elden ring and we’ll test your irritation.” Dru says, mic now muffled by his own spit.

“Your tank build is not enough to stop me, comet azur will always save the day.” He says in a sing-song voice.

“And you call me a try hard, yet you’re the one always using a broken spell.” Dru complains. “Theres nothing I have to try hard at when I can just hold a simple button.” The sound of Dru’s groans become louder as his spit clears out from his Mic. “Same thing!”

You laugh once again before picking up your phone and looking at the time.

“Shit!” Your eyes go wide at the sight, 8:48 AM.

You quickly throw the head set off and push yourself out of the chair, opening your closet grabbing a quick pair of jeans and a hoodie before rushing to put it all on.

Your cat skids across the floor, startled by your sudden movements before a crashing in the your pile of books and out the door.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you mumble as you jump up and down to put on your shoes, failing at not falling and race toward the door. “Sorry!” You call to your cat who yells at you next to his food bowl.

You grab your keys and rush out the door before slamming it shut and locking it.

“Ay, y/n!” Your neighbor, Rosa, shouts from beside her door. “Quiet will you! I just put Nona to sleep!” She yells raising her news paper tapping your head with it.

“Sorry! sorry, Señora Rosa.” You whisper yell as you try to push her weaponized hand away. “I’m just a little late.”

“And I just got a moment of peace! Quiet!” She says giving you one last wack making you try and shrink away from her as you rush toward the stairs.

“You got your pepper spray, right?” She calls and you raise your key chain to show her the attached small can. “¡Buena niña!”

You rush down the stairs and push passed the glass door, almost slipping on the ice before running down the street.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket making you quickly take it out.

“Hello?” You ask without knowing who it was.

“Arthur Morgan would be very disappointed at your sudden disappearance from an important mission.” Lyle says before sighing.

“It’s multiplayer, there are no main missions.” You say, trying to avoid the ice on the ground before stopping at the red hand across the street. “Plus, we were in the middle of four way 1v1. He’d be more upset that we were going against each other.”

“Loyalty is everything in such a game,” he says, sarcasm in his voice and you imagine him shaking his head. “Of course he would be upset at my bullet in DD’s head.”

“Why’d you call me exactly?” You ask watching the hand turn into a green man walking before taking off again.

“Well, you just yelled ‘shit!’ Before disappearing on us, had to make sure someone didn’t break in and kill you.” He replies casually as if he knew that weren’t the case. “But after hearing you continue on your ‘shit’ rant and the door slam I figured it was okay, just had to call and make sure, y’know?”

“Ever heard of a text, loser?” You ask, barley missing a man walking and looking down at his phone. “Gross,” he says before making a gagging noise. “why waste such time typing when I can simply just hit one button?”

“You’re so lazy.” You laugh out loud as you run across another street. “Work smarter not harder, Y/N. You should know this with that big brain of yours.”

“What if I want to work both smarter and harder?” You ask, running up to the glass window to see the books lined up. “Well, then your just weird.” You roll your eyes.

“Just kidding. I guess you can do both, I just personally prefer the alternative.” He says as the sound of guns shooting fills the phone. “Yeah, also sorry about leaving.” You say pushing into the store being greeting with the familiar smell of books and the warm smile of my mother.

“I forgot I had to get ready for work.”

“You’re at top shelf?” He ask and you reply with a ‘mhm’. “I might stop by later to say hello actually, I need a new game anyway.” He laughs as the sound of Dru yelling in the back ground becomes more prominent.

“Sounds good, see you loser” You say as you take your sweat shirt off, leaving you in your tank top you hand before leaving. “Later,” you hear him say before hanging up.

“Good morning,” you hear your mother say as you pull the staff sweat shirt over your head and pull up your sleeves. “Mornin’,” you reply before kissing her cheek.

“Wheres dad?” You ask looking around before your eyes setting on the woman stack a pile of books into one pile.

“He’s going to be out of town for a few days,” she says carrying the pile to the check back station. “A vacation, I insisted as I continue your training.” She says making you smile.

“We both know he needs it, he’s getting older.” She says and your smile fades as you nod. “So are you.” You mumble and she, too, nods.

“You know him getting old is different from me getting old.” She states, sighing quietly.

“What’s todays task?” You ask, quickly changing the subject at the sight of her sad frown. She looks at you for a moment before smiling once again.

She moves to storage closet and unlocks it, allowing you to see the boxes upon boxes along with stacks of different other things.

“To be a good store owner, you have to know your customers.” She says returning with a large box that you quickly take from her.

“Just put it on that table — and to know your customers, you must socialize and help them throughout the store.” She finishes as you take the box to the table noticing the label romance written across it.

“That also means having to work while helping the customers, so you’ll be on stock duty as well.” She says with a smile.

Yes.

You mentally say to yourself. Stock duty required work of you finding the places of different books, movies and games which also meant finding new things you didn’t know about before.

“One more thing,” you mother says as she walks behind the counter to finish opening up the store. “No head phones.” Your eyes go wide.

“But ma!” You call out to the lady who switches the sign from closed to open. “What else am I supposed to do when I stock!” You call, holding onto the white cords and swinging them around.

“Help the customers and socialize.” She laughs out making you frown. “I should call CPS.” You mumble carrying the box to the sorted area before hearing the woman’s laugh.

“Sure, call ahead but don’t be disappointed when they decline a twenty year old.”

You roll your eyes before continuing down the aisle.

“And after you sort those, get the others out of the storage closet!” You huff quietly as you glance back with a small playful glare on your face.

“If I wanted to work out, I would have gone to the gym.” You say and she rolls her eyes. “You’ll be just as sore in the morning, trust me.”

————

Hours hand passed, since you last seen the romance box having moved on to the horror section of the films.

You search through their placement areas, looking at all the old cinematic master pieces, the many Dracula films placed neatly next to each other, in order of both year and name.

Horror was one of the favorites when coming here, your father being a collected through his years he had many people couldn’t get their hands on.

Sure you could watch it online now but where’s the fun in that when you have a real copy with the static noises and written voices on screen. Some people still had some class left in them.

You hear a book hit the floor making the library echo as heads turned toward the cause of the sudden interruption of their silence.

“Shit—” You hear someone say quietly, making you roll your eyes as you place the rest of the CD’s in their rightful places before making your way toward the aisle the noise came from.

You subtly make your way toward the aisle while acting like your checking the books before taking a peek around the corner.

You see a rather short girl — shorter than the third shelf — craning her neck to look up at all the books in front of her.

Just to your luck, your mother placed a box for that genre next to the end of the shelf and you picked it up.

You make your way down the aisle and set the box toward the middle before looking up the girl who was already staring, and boy was she something.

Freckles littered across her tan skin, strands of her short hair fell from her half up half down style, her eyes — damn her eyes — they were the prettiest brown you’ve ever seen.

You smile lightly before picking up the first book and reading both the authors name and the title while trying to slow down your racing heart.

Who was this girl? Matter of fact, what was she? She wasn’t a regular, that’s for sure but you always get random people coming in so it didn’t exactly matter.

After putting away a few books, you glance up to see the girl a few feet away and on her tippy toes, reaching for a book on the fifth or sixth shelf.

You snorted quietly catching the girls attention making you quickly look away to keep yourself from laughing.

“You think this is funny?” She asks and you begin shaking in quiet laughter.

After a few moments, you compose yourself and stand shaking your head.

“No, not at all. Would you like some help?” You ask taking step toward her. She narrows her eyes. “Are you making fun of me right now?” She asks, both amusement and annoyance in her voice.

“Why would I do that? It’s poor customer service.” You say with a smile before watching her own smile grow.

“It’s poor customer service to laugh at a customer.” She mumbles before stepping back. “Please.” You walk up and grab the book.

“Look how easy that was.” She says, taking the book you held out for her. “Being six-foot-two does have its perks.” She says looking over the back of the book.

You roll your eyes but your smile only grows. Looking down at the book you nod and raise your eye brows, “that’s a good one, read it a few years back.” You say, making your way back to box of books.

“I’d hope so, for all the work I had to do to try and get it.” She mumbles making you smile and shake your head. “Anything else good?” She asks, looking down to you.

“You’re asking me if there’s anything else good in here when there’s just by the look of it thousands of books here?” You ask, smirking at her when she rubs the back of her neck.

“Yes, there is, I’ve read more than I can count. My recommendation board is up by the front desk if you want to check it out.” You say before placing crave by Tracy Wolff into the slot.

“You must have come here a lot before working then? If you’ve read so many books from here.” She asks, following hot on your trail with the book tucked between her arm. “Oh, for sure,” you say nodding. “The owners and I are real close, we were together a whole nine months before I was born.”

Her eyes widen slightly at the information. “You’re parents own this place?” She asks, gesturing to the entire book store and you nod, smiling.

It felt like you were a teenage boy, flaunting his muscles to a girl he finds attractive.

“Wow,” she says looking around once again. Book still tucked tightly into her arm as she did so. “Just wow. Your parents have taste.”

“More like their people pleasers.” You say shaking your head. The real other reason why horror is so popular in the movie section is because of their request.

Every week they check their request list and buy everything people ask for. New books, new movies, new music and games, there’s always something new. You’re surprised there’s still room, then again the place would be as big you supposed.

“They like having their customers choice their number one priority. It’s good business.” You say looking up to the girl who had a look of wonder in her eyes as she stared down at you but there was also something else. Something you couldn’t quite place.

She stares at you for another moment before speaking again, “do you.. know who I am?” She asks and your furrow your eye brows in question.

“Should I?” You ask tilting your head. She stares for another moment again, eyes scanning your face and it’s features as if searching for something.

Her smile then grows, as she shakes her head. “You shouldn’t, or rather shouldn’t have to. It’s just a surprise.” She says, tucking her hair behind her ear.

You knit your eye brows together in confusion.

She walks out of the aisle and you catch the light smile on her face as she does.

What the hell? You wonder to yourself as you place the last few books away.

You were pretty sure that was the last section, unless your mother put out some more stuff you didn’t notice. You’d just check out the to-do list.

Your mother and father always had one for both you and their own sake. Adding things so no one would forget.

As you made your way to check out, you see the girl walking in the general distraction as well.

“All set?” You ask, placing the box inside the others, moving past the small door attached to the low counter.

“Yep,” she says once again staring at you.

You take the book you got for her earlier along with another you recognize almost immediately. “Between shades of gray?” You ask, looking at her as if she were serious.

“Your description seemed trust worthy enough to make me interested.” You glance over to see your board clearly flipped through before nodding.

You scan both books. “Careful, it’s sad, dark and traumatic. It’s one of my favorites though.” You say looking up at her, she pauses for a moment, staring at you once again and just smiles and shakes her head.

“I think I can deal with a few of those.”

“Bartering or buying?” You ask. “Bartering,” she replies and you nod. “Good, I need to get a review on what you think.” You say with a smirk and you see a glint of something in her eyes.

“Name?” You ask and she looks at you a little confused. “We have to know whose using our books, how else do you think we send emails threatening to charge or get them back?” You snort.

“Oh, your totally right.” she says quietly before taking out her credit card.

“Jenna Ortega..” she says and you nod, typing in the name before reaching for the credit. Her grip on the card tightens at your lack of response.

You pull the card gently but her grip is to hard for you to take.

“Can I… get the card?” You ask, looking around slightly uncomfortably with the stone like stare she was giving you.

“Are you sure you don’t know who I am?” She asks letting go allowing you to swipe the card.

“Again, should I?”

You both stare at each other, both confused and entrapped by the other.

You find is strange how she thinks you know who she is or why you don’t know her.

Maybe she was some big deal somewhere off and you still have yet to hear about her.

Her name did ring a bell but you weren’t sure. Was she a person you knew from your child hood? An old friend trying to reconnect? Maybe some relative on your moms sent by the older ones to investigate if it was really you.

“Miss Ortega?” You’re both broken out of your thoughts as two large men stand behind her. “Time to go.” he says gesturing to a few people who were standing and staring in your general direction.

One grabs the bag off the counter before quickly walking towards the door.

“Looks like I gotta go,” she says, smile now suddenly shy with others watching. “Don’t worry, I’ll return your book Y/N.” She says before walking toward the door, one of the men right behind her.

“Yeah, you bet-“ you pause after the the realization hits you. “Wait, how’d you-?” You begin to ask before watching her gesture to her chest.

You knit your eyebrows together, you look down to see the name tag right under the library symbol.

She was strange.. cute.. but strange

Read next sort here!

A/N : Some parts once again rushed🧍🏽‍♀️This is just an introduction I suppose, the details will get better I tried my hardest🥲

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #celebrity x reader #top shelf #book store #book store owner #scream #Wednesday Addams #Vada Cavell #tara carpenter #scream 5 #scream 6 #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega fanfic #jenna ortega x you

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marzipanandminutiae · 2 months ago

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thinking about Life Before Widespread Internet Access, as part of the last generation to experience that, is so weird

because like. one, it wasn't really; I was just a small child in a lightly Luddite household. there was indisputably Internet in the late 1990s

and two...I don't really remember what it felt like?

I can say "things came from stores or from catalogues, and if the latter, they took what felt like months to arrive [probably actually 2-3 weeks, I'm guessing]. if you wanted to see a new movie, you checked the newspaper for times at the three nearest local theatres. if you wanted to see an older movie, you went to Blockbuster for a VHS or bought it from the bookstore. music came on CDs, also sold at the bookstore or a specific Music Store (which usually sold merch, too, and sometimes nerd things like action figures). if the physical bookstore didn't have a book you wanted in stock, you ordered it from them and it took like three weeks to arrive. you made new friends exclusively in person, through friends you already had, or maybe through penpal ads in magazines- though kids weren't usually allowed to do that for Safety Reasons"

I remember doing those things

but what it actually felt like to not just be able to look things up if you had questions, look up directions (even on MapQuest), shop online, have the constant hum of awareness in the back of your mind that you could at any time access this vast knowledge base/community/commerce arena-

I don't remember

isn't that strange?

#millennial #recent history #internet #technology

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ikilledmyhamster · 6 months ago

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Okay listen, what I love about BTD kid au is that Strade, rire, & sano were friends ever since childhood. I mean it's adorable if you actually think about it 😂

I do have a headcannon story that I would like to tell you all so feel free to read this!

I still don't know how the three met, it's kind of like that one trio where they don't even know how they met each other in the first place so let's just go with that. But I'd figured it would go something like this.

Story: Strade was an only child and had no friends due to his behavior. He met sano when he was around probably 6-7 who was stuck in a pond with ropes around his tail (Sano). Strade upon seeing a young boy with a snake tail, was curious and decided to help him...but the two ended up in the rope and it took 2 hours for them to get themselves free. Strade and sano became friends after that and strade didn't even bother asking about why sano had a tail.

The next part is where the two met rire which is kind of in a weird way. Strade got home from his kindergarten and decided to play with sano as the two were close, sano has an idea to summon a demon, which wasn't normal for a child to say that but hey, he's a naga demon so what do you expect? Anyway, they summoned a demon and you might be asking how and why they did it. Well one; They were pretty dumb kids and also just curious, two; Sano found rire's 'symbol' online for odd reasons and decided to try it. They successfully summoned kid rire but...they interrupted his tea time which made the demon prince angry (Btw he's a prince because his family is still alive, so he ain't the demon king yet). After a full on rampage that goes on for about a few hours, they were able to come into an agreement to become friends.

Childhood Moments: Strade, Rire, & Sano would build their own treehouse in their old neighborhood where they used to live, and they would make the treehouse pretty big. Of course the three had their own rooms and storage for their own stuff, by this time strade had an old camcorder, so he used it to create videos and/or memories of their childhood.

The three would go on adventures and weird places or even terrifying ones. Strades parents never really paid any attention to him so they didn't care if he left the house. Strade likes to draw or doodle in his free time, so he draws a lot of art of him, rire and sano. Sano and strade likes to pull pranks on rire. For example one time, they did a water bucket challenge but instead of it being normal cold water, it was holy water which burned poor kid rire skin. Of course he was not happy, but don't worry...he got his revenge.

Another childhood memory is that the three would occasionally watch horror films like slasher films. Especially paranormal activity, every time there is a demon or spirit that is possessing a person, sano and strade were pretty much scared while rire happily watches the scene. BUTTTT, when it comes to the exorcist scenes...Rire would immediately hold his friends with his tentacles while hiding behind them😂😂 (inspo from the photo above)

Another time, sano and strade did a research and they read that in old Russian ancient times, there used to be a saying that brownies could scare off evil spirits or demons. And so...they tried it on rire, the results did not disappoint them. The moment they bought a brownie cake and placed it on the table in front of rire...the poor boy disappeared. Which confused the two at first, but then they realized it actually works! Rire would stay in hell until he knows for sure, that the brownies were gone.

Treehouse: The treehouse that they built in the forest is still there standing stable till this day, and that treehouse holds a lot of childhood memory. Strade Sano & Rire would often sleep in that treehouse as their comfort zone and also since it's the place they mostly hang out in. They carved their names on the treehouse door, something like this; "LR+SK+S" Which obviously means in order; "Lucien Rire+Sano Kojima+Strade". Of course soon strade had to move out of his old town and so did sano and rire. They left their old treehouse but kept their stuff there.

Present: Whenever Y/N is free they sometimes go to the Kojima brothers house just to hangout or sleep over. One day they stumbled upon an old photo of the main trio. Rire in the center, strade on his left side and sano on his right side. The photo looked like it was taken a few years back and Y/N was able to open the frame and found a note attached to the back of the photo which had coordinates, which if your guessing correctly; Leads to their old treehouse. Akira & Y/N visited that place and found the treehouse with all of their stuff still there in the same places where they left it. And if they went all the way to the back, they would find a wooden box container which is filled with many cassette tapes and writing of dates. Strade would record those childhood videos and put them on cassette tapes so there was a lot of them. Of course, Y/N & Akira ended up watching some of the videos in the end and didn't bother telling sano, strade, or rire.

Anyway that's pretty much my version of the BTD main trio kid AU. Let me now which one should I do next down below here ⬇️⬇️⬇️

(Btw, credits to the art above belongs to @darqx)

#boyfriend to death #btd #btd akira #btd rire #btd sano #btd strade #gatobob #lawrence oleander #ren hana btd #alternate universe

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umlewis · 2 months ago

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Lewis Hamilton: I've Struggled With Depression From A Very Early Age

From Formula One glory to making a film with Brad Pitt, at 39, the sports star is more successful than ever. It's been tough, but he wouldn't have it any other way.

Sir Lewis Hamilton is the most successful Formula 1 driver in history, with 105 (at the time of writing) grand prix victories to his name, as well as seven championships and a knighthood in 2021. What makes this achievement even more extraordinary is Hamilton's background. He is the first and only black man to race in F1, a sport dominated by the gilded progeny of wealthy white families. A child of mixed heritage-his father, Anthony, is of Grenadian descent; his mother, Carmen, is a white woman from Birmingham-Hamilton was partly raised on a council estate in Stevenage, his family sacrificing so much to get him to the track. "I am grateful I had that experience. I remember not having any money. I remember the struggle of my parents. I feel that's an advantage," he says. "Did you fight harder on the track because it was so tough for you to get there," I ask. "One thousand per cent," he replies. We are meeting at the Kensington Roof Gardens (Hamilton has a home in London, as well as Monaco, Geneva, Colorado and New York). He is a vision in expensive beige: Maison Margiela slacks, chunky Bottega Veneta boots, a Dries Van Noten cardigan, Dior bracelets, Cartier rings, a pearl necklace he bought online, twinkly little studs, one for each side of his nose, his hands a collage of geometric tattoos. But his love of fashion goes beyond amassing a "dream" wardrobe. He has collaborated with Tommy Hilfiger on several collections and has just been made guest designer at Dior, for whom he has a debut collection coming this autumn, the palette for which was inspired by his travels in Africa, particularly Nigeria. Hamilton agrees it's a busy time for him. At the end of this season he will be moving to Ferrari, after twelve years with Mercedes. "It's been a rollercoaster of emotions from the moment I signed the contract. Telling my boss, that was terrifying. But it's so exciting because I remember as a kid watching Michael. Every driver watches that car and you're like, 'What would it be like to sit in the red cockpit?'" He is a quiet presence, boyish almost, despite his 39 years. He uses euphemisms for swearwords such as "frick" and "shoot." He doesn't drink, is "plant-based," and loves hanging out with his nieces and nephew, playing Uno and Fortnite, chucking them about in the pool on holiday. "I'm really good with the kids," he says, setting aside his oat latte. "With them I feel like I'm able to be the kid that I am."

Hamilton's own childhood was not so carefree. His parents separated when he was two, his father meeting his new wife, Linda, at British Rail, where they both worked. Sundays with his dad were spent watching Formula 1. This was the era of the talismanic Brazilian driver Ayrton Senna, Hamilton's hero. It was during a holiday in Ibiza that he first got in a go-kart. "I was hooked," he says. "The adrenaline, the chaos, trying to control it. You feel it in your chest, your emotions, through your fingers, everything." Hamilton's dad bought him a kart for Christmas when he was eight. "I think he just wanted something to do with me, this kid that had all this energy, that had no fear." He describes himself, back then, as a "Tasmanian devil," a child who didn't enjoy school, who had undiagnosed dyslexia, who was shy - but behind the wheel "something flowed through me. It was the only thing I was confident in." The family began to orientate their existence around Hamilton's racing, his father taking extra jobs, while his stepmum spent all her savings on his new passion. Hamilton won his first race when he was ten. "That was really empowering for me," he says, 'Because I was competing against a lot of wealthier families."

It was also around this time that Senna died, his car crashing into a concrete barrier during the San Marino Grand Prix. "I was with my dad; we were working on the go-kart. I remember going to the front and crying, bawling my eyes out. I couldn't cry in front of my dad. He was not that kind of guy." Hamilton suppressed his grief, in the same way that he suppressed his emotions about the bullying and racism he endured. "There was no escaping it. You experience it at school, in the parks, walking through town. I didn't understand it and my parents never spoke to me about it. They never explained what was going on. My dad was just, 'Keep your head down, hold it in, don't say anything, just beat them on the track, that's all you can do.'" So that was what he did. When Hamilton was thirteen he was offered a place on the McLaren driver development team. His father became his manager, looking after all elements of his career, including finance. "Even when I got to Formula 1, at 22, I had no comprehension of money," he says. Hamilton's first F1 season was in 2007, his first championship win in 2008. But despite all that it gave him, despite his deep love of the sport, of competing, Hamilton found the world of F1 corporate and stifling. There was a requirement to conform, a residual feeling that just one misstep and the opportunities he had been given would be taken away. "It wasn't until I'd had some wins that I started to put my toe out of the box. Each time it was, like, you make one step and that rock's safe, but that next one was wobbly or would fall away. You'd get criticism about how you were presenting yourself. But I kept punching and kept fighting." Racing, like so much competitive sport, can be a lonely business. "You're nice and friendly outside the car," Hamilton says, "but in the car my dad would say you have to be ruthless, aggressive, sharp. In the car there are no friends." He found greater freedom, a sense of belonging and camaraderie, in the fashion world, attending his first show in 2007. "Everyone was wearing what they wanted. You didn't feel like you were being judged because everyone's on their own vibe. It was the first time I got into an environment where everyone was expressing themselves and I loved it."

Hamilton tried to bring some of that creative freedom to his professional life. In 2010 he sacked his father as manager. "Obviously parents try to protect their kids, forever I guess, and some don't want to let go. My dad struggled with that. There was a point when I was like, 'Look, I've done everything you've asked me to do, now let me live my life. I am going to have to make my own mistakes.' That was a really tough process." At the end of the 2012 season he left McLaren for Mercedes. "They gave me a lot more freedom," he says. He became involved in the look of the team, bringing in Hilfiger to help redesign the clothing. "But still if I felt there were wrongdoings, I didn't feel I could speak out." That all changed in 2020, when Hamilton watched a video of the murder of George Floyd by the policeman Derek Chauvin. "The cork popped. It had me on my knees in tears. All this emotion came out. It was such a strange experience because I don't remember crying since I was really young. I knew that I'd had enough, I really needed to speak out. There are people that are staying silent, people that feel voiceless, and I have this platform. Winning championships is an amazing thing, but what are you doing with it? What are you doing with your time on this planet?" These were the questions that Hamilton began asking himself during that pandemic year, which was also when he started meditating. "I would struggle initially to calm my mind, but it's a really great way of getting in touch with myself, my inner feelings, understanding what I want to do." These days he meditates every morning, waking at five, following this with a ten km run, which he sees as an extension of his meditation, a time to have ideas, to clear his mind.

"When I was in my twenties I had some really difficult phases. I mean, I’ve struggled with mental health through my life." What are we talking, I ask. Anxiety, depression? "Depression. From a very early age, when I was, like, thirteen . I think it was the pressure of the racing and struggling at school, the bullying. I had no one to talk to." I ask if he has ever seen a therapist. "I spoke to one woman, years ago, but that wasn't really helpful. I would like to find someone today." He has gone on silent retreats and reads books about mental health, including The 5 Love Languages by Gary Chapman. "You're learning about things that have been passed down to you from your parents, noticing those patterns, how you react to things, how you can change those. So what might have angered me in the past doesn't anger me today. I am so much more refined." The year 2020 was a time of profound personal change. Hamilton took the knee before every race he entered that year. He advocated for change within his industry, initiating the Hamilton Commission to research the underrepresentation of black people in UK motorsport and the STEM sector. Using this information, he launched Mission 44, a charity to help young people around the world overcome social injustice, investing £20 million (he is worth an estimated £350 million) into the project.

He also started moving into other spheres with greater purpose, including fashion and music. He developed a non-alcoholic drink, Almave, and set up a film production company. "I want to be able to tell diverse stories. Film has changed my life. There is so much inspiration I have received," he says. One of his first co-productions is F1, the upcoming movie with Brad Pitt and a more diverse vision of the circuit, including a female technical director. "That was important to me. I lived with my dad, but I was really raised by my two mums and my two sisters. I grew up around a lot of female energy, powerful women. Most of the people on my team are women. The women hold it down." And, of course, there is Pitt playing a driver in his fifties. "That was a tricky part for me," Hamilton says, "because, shoot, of course we want Brad. But I was like, there is no way a 58 year old can compete with a twenty year old. These guys have got nothing going on but to race. And they're fit. So we had to work around this narrative, telling him how much harder he would have to train to get in shape." Hamilton himself is old for an F1 driver, most of whom retire in their thirties. His replacement at Mercedes, the Italian Kimi Antonelli, has only just turned eighteen. You could be his dad, I say, and Hamilton laughs like this hadn't actually occurred to him. "Honestly, right now I feel I'm healthier than I've ever been," he says. "I'm in such a good place, physically and mentally. My reaction times are still quicker than the young guys. I think I'm a better driver than I was at 22. I was just young, energetic and ruthless, but no finesse, no balance. I didn't know how to be a team player, how to be a leader. Being a good racing driver, it's not just about being fast. It's about being the most rounded. When I study the legends, they're spread between small percentages, so it's the whole package. What do they speak for, stand for? That's what I look at. I look to Ayrton Senna and Nelson Mandela, and those are the two people gelled together that I want to be."

Senna used to cross himself before every race. Like him, Hamilton was raised a Catholic. "I pray every time before I race," he says. "I pray that everyone is safe." Motor racing is far less dangerous than it used to be, but people still die. I ask Hamilton if he fears death when he drives. "I don't, no," he says. "But still, we're traveling at crazy speeds. You have to respect it. So that's why I'm conscious of the time I spend with my family, with my mum. Is this the last time I get to hug her? Because you just don't know. Nothing is guaranteed." Hamilton is single, but he would like to have a family. "One day. I wouldn't be able to do what I do to the level that I do it today with that. One of my best friends has just had a kid and I'm seeing how manic it is. And my nieces and nephew are a handful. There will be a time and a place for it, and I can't wait for that part. But right now I have some work to do."

#lewis hamilton #f1 #formula 1 #fic ref #fic ref 2024 #not a race #2024 not a race #between singapore and usa 2024 #(note to self: article posted 6 pm bst on sep 28 2024. no idea when actually conducted.)#tw alcohol #tw racism #tw police brutality

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cat-autism-wizard · 5 months ago

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five times danny's english class learned that he was phantom (and one time he had to reveal it)

2- paulina & star

paulina and star became inseparable at the start of the highschool. they talked about everything and anything. ever since phantom started to protect amity park they both admired him. paulina even had a crush on him only for her to realize it was just a comphet crush. when phantom saved paulina she noticed something about him. they way he talked was familiar.

she brought this up with star on one of their everyday gossip session. star never really noticed anything but promised to try to catch it.

star loved languages and how people talked. everyone had their own individual way to speak, putting emphasis on certain words and taking different times to breathe. she loved hearing everyones differences. and she would always info dump to paulina. hearing star talk too much about the differences between everyone's way of talking paulina also started to notice it. and hearing a familiar way of speaking from phantom was a weird experience.

paulina told star about the familiarity but couldnt understand why and they laughed mostly. still it did piqued star's interest.

next time star was on the attack range was on the park rather than in the school. phantom was fighting a ghost with a motorcycle and his shadow. star gave in to her curiosity as she hid behind a tree and listened to the fight.

"wheres kitty? did she dump your sorry ass again?" phantom asked with too much sass.

"no, we're going really steady right now. i even thinking about getting her some roses after i kick your ass." the ghost said and shadow attacked phantom.

"dude get her her favorite flowers to show that you care. roses are a safe option but favorite flowers are so much personal." phantom grunted out as he defended himself from shadow. johnny looked at him confused but he looked like he was considering what he said.

"i have a sister remember? i pick up a thing or two." johnny agreed and attacked him right after shadow.

star knew she heard enough to understand the speech pattern.

in the evening she called paulina to tell her what she gathered and what she heard from phantom. they laughed about it and continued to talk about other things. they didnt really pay it too much mind. they just thought it was cool to have that familiar feeling with a hero.

next day at school the first class was english. star sighed as she entered the classroom about five minutes earlier than mr lancer. dont get her wrong, english was her favorite class but as a first class? it was like a lullaby that was sang for them to fall back to sleep.

she sat next to paulina with a smile. paulina looked energetic even in the morning. star envied paulina. she always had energy. maybe it was the cheerleading but star knew even though herself was also more energetic than most people she still felt dull next paulina.

"you seem happy" star stated.

"how can i not be? after our talk last night i went online and bought that eyeliner you told me about. i cant wait for it to be delivered." paulina squealed. they talked about everything and anything until mr. lancer came.

"good morning kids. i hope everyone get enough sleep because i dont want anyone to fall asleep. your exams are close and today we'll get through the most important-" mr. lancer was cut by the late student.

"im so sorry mr. lancer."

star didnt have to look who it was to know that speech pattern. it surprised star to hear phantom and not any squeals though.

"let me guess mr. fenton. overslept?"

wait a minute. what? she turned to the source of the sound.

what.

after an awkward chuckle danny walked to his desk and sat quietly.

WHAT.

"as i was saying before being interrupted. this lesson is important-" star stopped listening. she was only thinking about the speech patterns. she was sure of it. danny and phantom had the exact same pattern. but that was impossible right? she was wrong. she had to be.

after the bell rang star was still going through phantom's pattern in her mind. she had to be wrong. she probably heard fenton wrong, yeah that must be it. then she heard him again.

"im going insane. jazz wont leave me alone about my 'trauma through neglectful parents'. as if she is not my sister." danny vented to his friends, maybe too loud for his taste.

star's eyes widened. she didnt hear wrong. even the words were the same.

"paulina" she said shocked. paulina turned her attention to her.

"are you okay? you look like youve seen a ghost." paulina asked her best friend with concern.

"technically i may have." she mumbled close to a whisper. before paulina could pester her, star dragged paulina from the arm to the bathroom. star checked the bathroom booth before talking.

"star whats happening? im getting nervous."

"ive heard him. and im so sure, it sounds crazy but i am sure and honestly it makes so much sense now that im thinking." paulina looked at her with confusion. moved her hands like she was saying 'elaborate'.

"okay so you know how yesterday we talked about phantom. i heard him." paulina's eyes widened.

"what? who? is he in our class?"

"yes, its fenton." star exclaimed earning a dissapointed look.

"you sound like wes." paulina stated unimpressed.

"first of all, OUCH. second, do you really think i would lie to you about speech patterns? third, OUCH how dare you" star said slightly offended. paulina looked like she was considering something then her eyes widened again.

"holy shit."

"yeah!! so what do we do?" star asked for their next step.

"nothing." paulina sounded more sure than ever.

"what?"

"we tell no one. we do nothing. i dont trust GIW nor do i know his parents that well. i dont like fenton that much but as phantom he protected all of us more than those nosy ghost hunter wannabes." paulina explained earning a nod from star.

"still we're going to distract people more so he can go his ghost things right?"

"oh yeah sure. he may not be lucky all the time."

both girls decided protect phantom in their own ways. whenever there was an attack they would scream loud so the attention would be on them and not on danny. they would distract everyone whenever wes made sense a little.

1 2 3 4 5 +1

#danny phantom #danny fenton #paulina sanchez #danny panthom star #5 + 1 things #its posted on ao3 too!!#aphelynx writes #dp

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