#also i want my two terrible sons and my two good sons to be happy | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

barzzal · 5 months ago

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call me crosby → part six

summary: Young, reckless, and rash, an unplanned pregnancy causes a massive rift in your relationship with then, cup-hungry 27 year-old Sidney Crosby. As he gets caught up in his own childish and selfish ways, confused to what was once certain, he lets you struggle alone. His absence reasons a miscarriage scare that leads you to end the relationship. Years after losing you, having to live a life that’s surrounded with the families his friends have built through the years embodies his greatest regret. Now with three cups and tons of awards at his disposal, Sid is given a chance to right his wrongs and win what was once the biggest loss of his life.

pairing: sidney crosby x fem!reader gen. warnings: language and theme, co-parenting, mentions of pregnancy & false miscarriage, sexual/suggestive themes, 18+ ch. warnings: parenting, tantrums, and a tad bit of angst genre: hockey rpf, fluff, angst, kid-fic, exes to lovers length: series; 5.2k masterlist: the barn, series masterlist

note: REALLY hoping i get to finish this while on my uni break. This was supposed to be posted on father's day but ya girl was on a trip i had to make most of it yk! Also, do note that the italicized part is a quick flashback. Anyway, happy reading! <3 (gif used: mine)

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. teasers, interviews, events, and the like that are included in the series are purely made for fictional purposes and do not/should not represent any of the names involved in real life. please proceed with caution.

Two words. Terrible twos.

It was one of the things your mom has told you about raising a child of your own. It was a stage full of tantrums and frustrations; one you’ve never dealt with before. You were told that it was overwhelming, that you have to prepare yourself mentally and physically for it. However, your son, as the marvel child that he is, was so good at that age that you need not have to worry about it.

Well, not until a few years later.

“Mommy, please!” Luke wails in frustration from the living room.

He has been asking for a little more screen time watching his show instead of doing his homework. And be that as it may, he has been adamant about not getting what he wanted.

This has been going on for a couple of weeks, following Luke’s realization of not getting to play much of hockey. Frankly, as well as not seeing much of Sidney.

“Honey, you’ve been watching for almost two hours. That’s enough.” you say, massaging your temple as you walk towards where he is, trying not to lose your temper.

You and your son have always been in sync. You have not really had the chance to reprimand or give him a good scolding. Lucas is a fairly calm child right from the beginning. To say the least, dealing with his temper tantrums now is a lot harder than you’ve prepared for.

You see him sitting on the couch holding the remote tightly. His cheeks are still evidently damp from all the crying. You know he’s bound to strain his voice just by looking at him.

“Two hours is not enough!” he appeals. Just like you thought, his voice is now nearly gone from all the screaming. “Please, I want my TV!”

It is during times like this where you have to try harder as a mother. You know it will not always be rainbows with Luke. But despite your efforts to ensure that he would be able to express himself when you greatly need it, you can’t blame a child for not knowing exactly how he feels nor the reason for it. You just wish he’d be able to let you know even just a little. At least then, you could make it all better.

“Baby,” you endearingly call for him as you approach.

With a soft smile on your face, you caress his hair. Your hands then fall to his cheeks so as to wipe his tears away.

“You’ve already watched a lot of episodes today...” you carefully work your way in; gently reminding him of his acquired screen time.

Frustratingly, Luke’s voice breaks as he tries to tell you he wasn’t going to watch any more episodes of Paw Patrol and the new Lego Spiderman.

“Then what were you trying to watch?” you ask him with the same nurturing voice.

You see Luke shoot a glance over the screen that you’ve already turned off half an hour ago.

Yes, this has been going on for that long.

“Mkay, you may turn it on so you can show me.”

There comes a glint of hope in his eyes the moment he hears you. You fight the urge to chuckle, finding it quite adorable.

Luke, now standing on his feet, finds the red power button and points it towards the television. Once it’s turned on, the thumbnail of a show greets you; one that you least expected– one that you clearly were not ready for.

“So tell us guys, how can we make hockey more fun?” said the last voice you wanted to hear.

Sid and Nathan in their respective jersey’s for a commercial a few years back comes into view. You know that it was one of his brand commitments that he still does to this day. You were just not aware that Tim Horton’s apparently had this particular video uploaded for everyone to see.

As you watch the clip turn over to a handful of kids skating towards the two famed athletes, you make the mistake of taking the remote from your son to pause the short youtube clip quite hastily. You inevitably surprise him with your reaction thereby scaring him.

Upon deducing that you were upset by the show that he has chosen, Luke begins to cry even harder than before.

Alarmed, you put away the remote and reached for him. You let him fall in your arms whilst he buried his face in your chest.

“I’m sorry, baby. Mommy didn’t mean that.” you try to convince him, caressing his head. You feel disgusted with yourself because you know this is not the way you wanted this moment to unfold.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Mommy.” Luke says in between his sobbing. He hugs you tighter whilst in a heaping mess.

“Hush, it’s okay.” you comfort him. “I’m sorry too.”

You let him cry himself out. It may be heartbreaking for you, but you couldn’t think of any other way to help your seemingly helpless child. The only thing you could offer him is the assurance that you will always be by his side when he needs you.

You know that the overwhelming surge of emotion he’s feeling now is quite new for him. Dealing with his outburst may be tough on your end, but you can’t even imagine how much harder it must have been for a child to be utterly clueless as to why he is crying.

Swiftly, just like you used to do when he was a baby, you sway your body whilst Luke stays in your embrace. Once Luke’s breathing begins to calm down, you lovingly caress his back; deciding to try again.

“How are you feeling, darling?”

Luke doesn’t utter a word. However, you feel him move even closer to your body as if there was any space left. You tighten your hold on him as you place a kiss atop his forehead.

“Mommy’s not mad at you, okay?”

With what you assume is the last of his sobs, Luke quietly replies, “Okay…”

He breaks away from your hold and looks you in the eye, “I’m sorry.”

You offer him a reassuring smile, “I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean to scare you, honey.”

You plant a wet kiss atop his nose, making him giggle.

“May I know why you wanted to watch more TV?” you ask.

When you see a hint of hesitation on his demeanor you add, “I’m not upset. I promise. Go on, you can tell me.”

“Sidney…”

“Do– Do you miss him?” you ask hesitantly, afraid to hear what his answer might be.

Your son nods, “Uh-huh.”

Of course.

Luke continues, “He said… he’s going to play with me when he comes back.”

“Where is he, Mom? Why isn’t he back?”

“I…” you struggle. You didn’t know how to tell him that this was all because of your doing. “I don’t know, honey.”

Luke looks at you with his little eyes, all too tired from crying. “Doesn’t he wanna play with me?”

You shake your head, determined not to put thoughts in his head that could be a detriment as to how he saw Sidney. Funny how you still instinctively did things for Sidney’s sake.

“Of course, he does, sweetheart. He’s just—”

Your son interrupts, “He’s just what?”

You caress his cheek as you say, “He needed to take care of some stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?”

You hum, playing with his hair. “Stuff like what Mom also has to take care of sometimes.”

You think of an example. “Like, when I leave you with Aunt Claire for a little while, you remember?”

He looks up at you with enthusiasm in his voice when he says, “Aunt Claire always gives me M&Ms.”

You give him a warm and knowing smile. “She does, doesn’t she?”

Your son continues, “She also gives me candy when you come back.”

“Yes! See– I always come back, right?” you begin to explain. “Sidney’s gonna come back too, honey. It’s just taking a while. We need to wait a bit longer.”

Luke tilts his head, “Longer?”

“Yes, right. Can you do that? Can you wait a little more for Sidney?”

Once again, only with a discernible smile spreading on his lips, your son nods.

“Are you gonna wait for him too?”

It takes a few seconds before you are able to answer.

“Yes. I am also waiting for him.”

𖥸

Days have gone and your son stayed true to his words. He’s waiting patiently for Sidney.

In the meantime, Luke has shifted his focus on his art albeit not entirely off hockey given that most of his drawings were of hockey sticks, pucks, and the Pittsburgh Penguins logo.

You no longer mind for as long as he is, for lack of a better term, distracted. You and Sidney have remained in no contact with one another and it is highly likely to remain the same. You may have kept in touch with Cath and Anna but neither of them gave you word as to how Sidney was doing. Surely, they were thinking you did not really care for it. Did you?

You sigh, watching your son soundly asleep as he takes his afternoon nap. Days have been quite easier ever since the night you last saw Sidney. But you have to admit, seeing your son’s room now reminds you of him. You would have easily shut down the idea of having Sidney taint the corners of your home with his presence; particularly your son’s room. It would have easily aggravated you, perhaps fuel the hate you have for him even more. How come you don’t? How come what you feel instead is the void in your gut that is melancholy.

Quietly, you shut the door of your son’s room to let him rest.

You have been pondering as to how to remedy your situation with Sidney but alas, nothing came close to a practicable and civil reconciliation. You knew full well that co-parenting would be hard given the fact that it was one of the reasons why you chose to be your son’s only parent. You just fell short of realizing how it will equally be as hard on you. As much as you’d give every fiber of your being to be the best Mother you can be to your child, it kills you to acknowledge that Luke needs someone other than you, even more so that it inevitably means him needing his father.

Perhaps Sidney isn’t the only one who had a hand in everything falling apart. ‘Perhaps’ is a little far fetched but a mere inkling would suffice. You are not yet ready to acknowledge you had your share in the wrongs that make up this little broken family of yours.

You were putting away Luke’s plushies in his toy bin when you heard the doorbell ring. You place the bin on the floor before you make your way to the front door. It was unusual given that you were not really expecting anyone to drop by. The only close friends you have in the city would not be so careless in doing so for obvious reasons.

You take a quick glance on the doorbell camera and your heart immediately sinks.

Of all the people you’d expect to be waiting at the other side of the door, she would be the last one.

The moment you opened the door you were welcomed with eyes as blue as the ocean back home, hair that is as gold as the afternoon sun, and a smile that’s entirely identical to Sidney’s and your son’s.

Close to losing all the words you know, you were able to say one name.

“Taylor.”

She wastes no second, “Is it true?”

You see Taylor’s eyes wander off to Luke’s toy bin sitting idly near the staircase. The discerning look on her face let you know she no longer needed an answer.

“Come in.” you say.

Quiet and unsettling air sits as you invite Sidney’s sister inside your home. You did not really know where to begin. The best thing you can do now is to lead her to your living room, offer some tea, and sit in silence.

“Can I get you anything? I might have some tea lying around.” you say, offering formalities.

Taylor gives you a tight-lipped smile. Reserved. You get it. You would be too if you recently learned you had a nephew.

“Water would be nice.” she replies.

You give her a swift nod just as you tell her, “Please, make yourself comfortable.”

You turn on your heels and make your way towards the kitchen with cold hands and a pounding heart. Sitting with Sidney’s sister for afternoon tea isn’t exactly what you had in mind spending your time off work.

Needless to say, you prolong the trip to the kitchen and back to the living room. You need to buy yourself some time to process what’s about to happen.

Upon your return, you see Taylor looking at the photo wall you’ve created through the years. The very same one you caught Sidney looking at the first time you invited him over.

When the two of you catch each other’s gaze, you offer Taylor an apologetic smile. It’s true. You now realize how your new life — your growth looked like through the eyes of your old friends. A harsh reminder that none of them are in it.

You and Taylor were good friends ever since Sidney brought you to Halifax to meet his folks. You always had a hard time warming up to people you barely know, but with Taylor… well, she made it so easy.

If only she knew of the things you’ve gone through subsequent to the better parts of your life with her brother. Maybe then, she’d understand.

The two of you utter each other’s names at once, immediately stopping upon realization.

You gladly let Taylor know she could continue what she was about to say. After all, you know she has nothing but questions that only you could answer.

The first thing she asks is, “What happened?”

You begin to explain. You tell her about the first time you knew you were pregnant, the moment you told Sidney, and how things unraveled shortly after that. You spared her no detail of what has come and gone; the years that flew by so quickly and dreadfully slow at the same time.

“I didn’t know things were that hard,” she says apologetically, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because,” you pause, “I knew Sidney felt alone.”

With kind eyes, Taylor replies, “So were you.”

Taylor has always been on your side despite being Sidney’s sister. She knew how difficult her brother can be. After all, she grew up with him.

You sigh because what she said was true. You and Sidney were alone together. But regardless of the wall that separated the two of you, you didn’t want to let Sidney feel as alone as you felt when he left you. Maybe that’s why you inadvertently left Taylor out of the mess just so Sidney felt he still had someone on his side.

“At the time everyone blamed him for not wanting a child.” you begin, “I knew that if I told you, you’d feel the same as I do. I didn’t want him to feel that his sister was against him too.”

“Listen,” she says, “When Sid told me, I swore that I was gonna come up here and be mad at you… but for years, I’ve seen how the game ate up most of the Sid I knew. So I guess, I couldn’t really blame you.”

“I only did what I thought was the best for us.” you say honestly, “I just didn’t think the repercussions of my action would bring us into this much mess.”

It’s true. The life you pictured with your son excluded Sidney, but you should have known that what Claire told you was right the moment you came back to Pittsburgh with your son. Sure, the first year went by so blissfully. But you have forgotten yet another circumstance you should have known before you dealt another card: Luke.

Luke is growing up exactly how you dreamt him to be. A boy who has a mind of his own. You cannot really expect him to go along your every plan if he’s already becoming his own person, can you?

You hate yourself for it. However, you’ll hate yourself even more if you deprive him of something he is entitled to have no matter how much you’re against it.

Taylor stayed for a while. You spend the time showing her memories you’ve made with Luke. You showed pictures of your son as a newborn, the many birthday parties you have thrown for him, even the ones you have taken of him playing hockey. Taylor savored every bit of the nephew she could get to know. The only thing left now is to finally meet him.

With nothing but a humble heart you hold Taylor’s hand and say, “I’m really sorry.”

Taylor puts her hand on top of yours, giving it a squeeze. “I understand.”

“Do you want to meet him?”

“I do,” she gives you a warm smile, “but not when you and Sidney have yet to patch things up.”

You let go of her hand and sigh. You understood what she wanted you to do. For the first time, you wanted the same thing too.

“I’ll talk to him.”

𖥸

July has been warming up the city but your words still rang in Sidney’s ears as if it had just been uttered.

“I’m done.”

As hard as it was to admit, Sidney knew that the article was the final nail in the coffin — the final string that would make him understand why you had to keep his son away from him. Just like all the other times, you were right. He had always been less of a man much like all the others.

He couldn’t wrap his head around how he managed to screw things up worse than he already had even when he was barely making any progress. Perhaps, it was foolish of him to think he can still make it work. After all, what more remedy could he do to the very thing you have long buried six feet under?

Instead, what he did was go home to Halifax days subsequent to the release of the controversial article. The last thing he wanted was attention so he did the sanest thing he could think of: renovate his lake shed.

Apart from the fact that it was the off-season, Sidney could not see himself staying in his Pittsburgh home. The night you ended the attempt to co-parent with him only reminded Sidney of the time he foolishly thought he had already purged out of his system. It was as if he had been brought back to the night he was told his child was gone.

“Please don’t end us.” he says, knees already on the cold hospital floor. “Please don’t make me leave.”

Sidney feels your grip on his hand tighten as an attempt to break off his hold, but before you can do so, the door to your room opens to reveal Kris and Geno rushing to take Sidney away from you.

“Sidney,” he hears Geno call his name.

He didn’t budge. He wasn’t going anywhere without you. He knew you needed him. He understood what had to be done. A little too late, but he’s here now.

“Y/N-”

“Sid,” Kris places a hand on his shoulder just as he firmly says, “let her rest.”

It was the least Sidney could do. To let you be — as he had easily done so when it was the last thing you wanted.

Sidney came back to the hospital with a bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hands. He walked the halls with hope only to find out you were no longer there. He had been cut off as soon as Kris and Geno walked him out of your hospital room — the last time he was ever going to see you.

He waited for hours sitting on the lobby bench beside your hospital room. If it were not for the next patient arriving to occupy the room, Sidney would not have probably left.

The days he spent in your shared home haunted him of the days he had left you alone in it waiting for him to come home. The house he had built with his fame and successes have now become a constant reminder of what a failure it really was.

Sidney sighed once he finished a glass of water. He absent mindedly places it atop the counter as his eyes remained in focus at a photograph placed on his refrigerator. It had been a while since he last saw it. After all, he only gets to go home during the off season.

He walks towards the fridge and takes the photo in his hand. It was the first sonogram you had of your son. The one you dread having to leave when you finally had the courage to leave Sidney, but the last possession Sidney has of the life he could have been living.

With eyes now glistening with impending tears, Sidney lightly rubs his thumb on the picture — what was once a tiny little peanut has grown to become a boy Sidney could no longer keep out of his mind. He’s hurting at the fact that he misses you — but his heart aches at the thought of Luke eventually forgetting about him. Sidney knows he’s going to be yet another random ‘Mr.’ at a camp that happened to teach him a sport he will grow up to forget eventually. All those memories Sidney will bring with him to his deathbed will surely be forgotten by the time the tiny little peanut graduates from college.

Who else could he blame for the life he’s now living however miserable it may be? You offered him this life with your own life on the line. Sidney did nothing but toss it aside because he was set on his ways. He couldn’t blame anyone but himself. Perhaps, that’s what he should bring to his deathbed.

Sidney’s self-loathing was put into a halt when he heard a chime coming from his phone already buzzing on his kitchen counter.

He sees a message that almost had him on his knees.

Just below your name were the words he had least expected but mostly hoped to read, “Can we talk?”

𖥸

As soon as you were able to set a date, Sidney wasted no time and got in the next flight bound for Pittsburgh. Sidney had two days to prepare before meeting you and while that seemed like enough time to be able to think about what he’s going to say the moment he sees you, he could neither ascertain how to explain nor justify his shortcomings. So, he won’t.

Sidney watches your car pull over the driveway after having opened his gate. After the tedious two-day wait, you were back. Well, at least that’s what Sidney thought at the time. Because unlike him, it was not just two days — it has been six years.

Sidney was chivalrous enough to let a few seconds pass before he finally opened the door for you although to tell you the truth, he had been at the other side of it long before you rang the doorbell.

You follow Sidney’s steps as you make your way to the living room. Said walk was not like the others you used to thread on back when you were still together — it wasn’t so long and quiet. At least, it didn’t feel that way.

“Can I offer you a drink?” Sidney asks. The hoarseness in his voice strung along his words.

Has he been crying that much? His eyes were a bit tired. He hasn’t been sleeping. How come Kris said he was fine? But then again, Sidney has had quite a talent in putting up a facade. You catch him fiddling his thumb. When he sees where your eyes have been, Sidney immediately takes his hand into his pocket.

You immediately put your gaze elsewhere. “Uh, just water.”

As you scan the view that is Sidney Crosby’s home, one thing comes to mind: it looks nothing like Connor Mcdavid’s. Sidney’s was far more deserving to be featured in Architectural Digest. To hell with black and metal. This was a home.

Well, it is. Just not for Sidney.

Even if it was, a part of you knew Sidney would never parade his home for everyone else to see; let alone have it printed on a magazine.

Apart from the wood panels that fashioned the ceilings, everything else was unfamiliar. It was as if you never lived in it. He had new pieces displayed in various corners of the room. Some of it worth millions sitting idly beside or on top of worn out books like some mere paper weight.

Sidney also redid the floors. Neutral wide plank flooring. You thought that it was quite a bold choice considering the majority of the furniture you had before came in dark tones. But then, that made you realize Sidney also bought new furniture. He also changed a few fixtures, here and there. The white french sliding doors leading to the patio were now replaced with glass doors that had wood trimmings as well as the hallway leading to your old home office that now had interior glass doors. You notice tons of boxes you could see from the other side. Perhaps, he thought it would now be a good use for a storage space. After all, he had to fill in every bit of void you’ve left him with.

You tear your eyes away from the halls you used to frequent. Instead, you quietly follow Sidney’s footsteps. The house still had an open floor-plan. Sidney loved seeing everything at once. At least that hasn’t changed.

“Make yourself comfortable.” he says with a tight-lipped smile just as he turns towards the kitchen.

The cloud of uncertainty was still evident and heavy. To top it all, you were neither sure of what to tell him nor where to begin. Clearly, you should have bought yourself a bit more time before ringing his doorbell.

You hold your bag close to your chest once you’ve sat in Sidney's living room. You were wrong. The changes he made were drastic. His taste then was incomparable to how it is now. The Sidney you knew then wouldn’t be so meticulous as to what type of wood to use in his fireplace or what fabric to pick when it comes to throw pillows lining the couch. Hell, he wouldn’t have thought of having one — let alone five.

A quiet smile seeps in your lips. It’s nice that something good has come out of such an ugly chapter in your lives.

Your eyes catch a shade of blue and crimson red blankly displayed on the side of the room from where you were sitting. You feel a gnawing guilt resting in your guts as the painting comes into full view. You stand as your hand travels to your chest. It was a piece by Peter Doig called the “100 Years Ago”.

A man sits alone in a canoe in the middle of a quiet and still ocean. The man looks at you helpless and tired of what must have been an arduous journey. You meet his eyes, as if it were in desperate need of help. Your help. But then again, there’s an island waiting for him — even a house sitting on top of the hill. Couldn’t he just row his way and ask for help? Perhaps his inability to do so was due to the fact that he’d already gone to that house — maybe what it really was is just as empty as what he already had in the canoe.

As the eerily still piece settles before your eyes, you can’t help but think of what it must have been like to be the one that’s stuck. The man that was torn between two distances. To choose between whatever it was sitting before his eyes and the big island he can always call home.

“Hey.”

Sidney’s voice pulls you back to your feet.

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting.” he says, two glasses of water in each hand.

“No, it’s all right.” you say.

“That–” you turn your gaze back to the painting before continuing, “That is something.”

Sidney gives a humble smile. “Thanks. I got it a couple of years back when I started renovating the place.”

It would be absurd to say that Sidney’s house has not changed since the last time you walked its halls. It did change. A lot. After all, you didn’t expect him to leave everything as it was; how you left it. Despite that, there was a little hope that Sidney did leave a bit of what might have reminded him of you untouched.

“So– listen, the reason why I came here.” you begin, hugging the glass with both your hands.

“I know. Taylor.” Sidney saves you the need to explain. “I’m sorry I told her. I wasn’t in my right mind the last couple of weeks.”

It’s true. He knew it must have been hard for you to tell Taylor everything. It was yet another reason for you to cut him completely out of your life, yet another rash decision, yet another failure. Sidney did what he could at the time and his only wish now is for you to understand. He had just lost you and his son twice. To have done otherwise would have made him lose his mind.

“No. It’s alright. She’s bound to know that she has a nephew.” you earnestly reply.

At this point, you have come to realize that you’ve been insufferable regardless of your own merits. Sidney thought he had lost a son. You couldn’t possibly deprive him of his own sister.

“How– how is he?” he asks, afraid of how he’ll be answered.

You look Sidney in his eyes just as you say, “He’s been missing you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Really.”

Sidney takes in the new information as a quiet smile spreads on his lips. Luke misses him.

Seeing Sidney’s reaction brought you a sense of guilt and warmth only a parent could feel.

“Honestly, Taylor visiting isn’t really the reason why I’m here.”

His brows quirk and asks, “What do you mean?”

“I think…” you say, fighting yourself from refusing to tell Sidney the truth. The very truth that you’re still having a hard time accepting.

“I think it’s time to acknowledge– and for me to accept, that my son needs you.”

It’s the truth. It might have been hard for you given that Sidney was the root of it all, but you could no longer put up with the way you have been treating Sidney at your son’s expense. You may still have bits of resentment towards what once was but that doesn’t give you a right to deprive your son of his right. A part of you may still hate Sidney for the pain he caused you, but you could not bear the thought of your son hating his father because of your own doing.

Sidney is at a loss for words.

“Do you really mean that?”

He sees you nod.

You give him a reassuring smile.

“It’s one thing to keep a father away from his child, but it’s another to keep a child away from his father.”

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note: patience patience patience. thank you all! ♡

add yourself to the series taglist here. i appreciate all kinds of feedback! ♡

#sidney crosby #sidney crosby imagine #sidney crosby x reader #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction #call me crosby #cmc #barzzal imagines #letters to crosby

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long-live-astronerd-ghost-king · 2 years ago

Text

DP x PC prompt where Batclan ship “Pitch Pearl” or as they say, “We’ve connected the two dots”.

Batclan has been watching the Phantom and the Fentons, especially their son. They were able to find some information but for some environmental reason the tracking devices are working in Amity Park with such terrible sound interference...it is difficult for them to understand a word.

~~~~

Fenton kid's Audiotape: I hate..Phantom..threat..destroy.

Original: I hate that my parents think that Phantom is a threat and want to destroy me.

~~~~

Audiotape of the Phantom: cause me trouble..Danny Fenton’s..guns..pointed at my back.

Original : Why everyone wants to cause me trouble? I don’t have time for Danny Fenton’s homework with all those guns pointed at my back.

~~~~

Batclan arrives personally and is going to offer to rescue the ghost from the Fenton child. But. There is a problem.

They see the Phantom calling a Ghost Girl, very much like him, a daughter. The next day the girl flies to the son of the Ghosthunters without fear, calls him father and turns into a human girl. And the teenager hugs her.

Batman thinks their situation is similar to Lex and Superman but unlike them they both really love their "Conner".

~~~~

Tucker hears this reasoning from the tracking device he planted on the Batman’s cloak.

Danny: Good news. They want to help Phantom and don’t think he’s a bad guy. They also fail to understand that Danny Fenton and Danny Phantom are the same person. Bad news.They think I, Fenton, am the villain. How can I dissuade them without revealing my identity?

Tucker: Well, you have a lair with weapons and instruments for diss and vivi in the basement.

Dani*feral half-ghost teen*: Say no more. I have an idea.

~~~~

The same evening, Batclan sees Tik Tok video from the Fenton lab.

*Miike Snow's Genghis Khan plays in the background*:

The Phantom is tied to the autopsy table and Bruce wants to ask the children to look away, but Dick stops him and says he knows the song, so they should see it.

The video has a happy ending. The heroes like it and they go home with a calm soul.

~~~~

An hour after there’s a comment from DashHereForSlash: Cool cosplay, guys! I’m happy that someone knows about this ship! The equipment looks so real! Where to send a donat for a kiss in the next video?

GhoticPlant: Glad you liked it! Here’s a link.

~~~~

Three hours later, the Red Huntress shoots a duet:

~I get a little bit Genghis Khan

Don't want you to get it on

With nobody else but me.~

Yes, they used Fenton Ghost Catcher and Tucker, Sam and Jazz played henchmen.

~~~~

Tucker sits at the table with Fenton and Phantom.

Tucker: So, Danny, what’s more important..self-esteem or easy money?

Double Dannouble: Money

Tucker: All right, here’s your $50. It’s all fair. But next time you need to use a little more touch. And we change the platform to post the videos.

Danny: Suspicious..And I want $100. Double job means double salary.

Jazz: Danny, no more videos! You’re 15!

Tucker*with printed photos of the kiss the next day*: Remember, don't let people manipulate you to do things you don’t want to do. But we’re doing it to better cover up a little dirty deadly secret, money’s just a bonus. And Danny is narcissistic enough to be happy that now Paulina has his pictures in frames.

Part 2

#dc x dp crossover #dp x dc #dc x dp #dpxdc #red huntress #valerie gray #Danny Phantom #danny fenton #pitch pearl #Dash Baxter #dani phantom #dani fenton #danielle phantom #elle phantom #dp x dc prompt #batclan

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mr2swap · 1 year ago

Text

wedding gift for "dad"

I feel terrible about how things turned out for me and my son David, but there is nothing I can do now. All I can do is live the life David always wanted for himself and his husband, Andrew.

I met Andrew when he was just a little boy who used to come every afternoon to play with my son David, the two of them were inseparable so much that I came to consider Andrew as the second son I never had, the years passed, and I saw how Andrew and David became men, until that moment I never believed that there was more than friendship between them, they were always so fanatical of spending their afternoons training in the gym until long hours of the night, studying in long sleepovers that lasted all weekend week and rehearsing their choreographies for the dance club they were both enrolled in. I guess I should have seen the signs.

10 years ago while the whole family was together and David was next to him, he decided to tell us the truth, they had been secretly dating for so long that I almost choked on a mouthful of my wife's delicious meatloaf, they all seemed quite happy at that moment everyone except me.

I was so stupid back then that at that moment, I decided that the man in front of me was not my son anymore, I started treating him differently, I cut myself off from him and Andrew completely, damn it! I even felt sorry that everyone on our street knew about it before I did. I'm 59 years old, in my day all that shit was kept secret, of course there were gay people, but I never thought David would be one of them.

For the good of the family I decided to just ignore David, but when he and Andrew came to my house with an invitation to their wedding I just couldn't help myself anymore, I told David that I didn't agree with his lifestyle and if he wanted to be gay had to be done outside this house and forever, I wouldn't attend the wedding of two fagots, let alone let someone from my family know about it.

From that moment I did not see David or Andrew again, until their wedding day, I was alone at home watching the football game on television, my wife had betrayed me and left me alone to go to the wedding from David and Andrew, I drank a six pack of beers just to forget today's wedding, but while you were watching the game something strange happened, I don't know if it was the effect of the beers or maybe the strange wish that my son made, I swear that In a simple blink that I lived in slow motion I was transported from the comfortable sofa in my house to a hotel room.

I looked around surprised because my living room had become an elegant room on the twelfth floor of a hotel, believing that I was in an extremely realistic dream, I looked at my hands, they were no longer old and wrinkled, now they were firm and young, my clothes I had also changed instead of a dirty tank top that highlighted my huge belly and yellowed boxer shorts I was now dressed in a fancy tuxedo, I looked down in surprise that my belly didn't obstruct my vision to see my feet which were now in a pair in elegant black shoes.

-This must be a dream…-

I said out loud and startled by the sudden change in the tone of my voice, something seemed familiar in that voice, but I didn't know what it was, I decided to believe that I was in a lucid dream thanks to all the pain that I normally suffered in my back and on my knees they disappeared, with my long and firm fingers I held my hard and firm pectorals, even the sensations on my skin were different and for some reason my nipples were also much more sensitive.

I kept using my fingers to highlight each of my muscles, I continued down towards my chiseled abs, surprised to find myself with the hardness of my muscles instead of a grotesque round belly, I looked to the sides trying to find a mirror, so I could see myself better, and luckily I found one that was on the other side of the huge hotel room.

When I first looked at my reflection, I immediately recognized the face that was now mine.

-AHHH!!!-

Indeed, that was not my face, it was the face of my son David, I fell backwards terrified by the impact of seeing my son again and at the same time knowing that I was him, I remained silent for a whole minute making movements slowly while crawling to the mirror my eyes did not take off for a single second from the reflection in the mirror that imitated each of my movements.

As I knelt in front of the mirror, I examined my son's mature handsome face, his perfectly trimmed beard, his whitened teeth, and his hair which I had recently painted black.

-What the fuck is… This?-

I caressed my new face while making strange expressions with my son's face in the mirror, to verify that it was me who was there. Suddenly, from the other side of the room, the ringing of a telephone made me wake up from hypnosis in who was submerged while looking at my face.

I stood up and awkwardly walked to the phone now that I was aware of the vast difference between my obese body and the young body of my gay son.

Before I had the phone in my hands I looked at the number, immediately recognizing it was the number we had had in the house for years, less and less convinced that this was a dream, I picked up the phone and simply answered it.

-He-hello?-

For five long seconds that seemed like an eternity the phone remained silent, a hoarse and thick voice broke the silence in which we were.

-Dad are you?-

-Who speaks? David? for the love of god what's happening?-

-Oh shit! If you are the one in my body, I… I'm sorry, I think this is my fault.-

-David, where the hell are you? and where am i? why is this your fault?

I had to sit down for the long conversation we had that day, he doesn't know exactly what happened, he was just getting ready to go down to the reception and be on his wedding day, but it seems an unexpected gift arrived, from out of nowhere a mysterious gift appeared on the floor, it was in front of the door so I guess it was a gift from her future husband or maybe the reception had sent them something in gratitude for renting the ballroom, the gift box was simple and it only had a name on it.

From: Mr2 Swap

He thought the gift was a mistake, that it simply wasn't for him and one of the hotel workers had got the wrong room, but for some reason he couldn't leave the gift unopened, it was almost as if he was calling him .

When he finished dressing, the gift was still there and David could not resist the supernatural curiosity that invaded him, he took the gift in his hands and opened it, he was not expecting anything specific, but what the box contained surprised him, it was a simple golden ticket

"Valid for one wish"

David looked everywhere, but there were no more letters or signs of who had sent the ticket.

-A wish huh?… I just wish dad was here to see how I get married-

And after that we both woke up in each other's place, while there Disney was counting all this madness I looked everywhere even under the bed, but there was no ticket not even a gift box it was like after his wish was fulfilled would have vanished.

While I was still looking for some clues as to where that strange gift had gone, my wife also dressed in an elegant dress entered the room, as soon as I saw her I knew that she had to find out what had happened to me and David But the words wouldn't come out of my mouth no matter how hard I tried I couldn't say a single word about the exchange or about the real David now being drunk in my body thousands of miles from here.

-the wedding planner is waiting for you son, if you take longer on the phone, we will have to postpone dinner-

Caught by the magic of the ticket, I act exactly as David did, I took one last look in the mirror and with a smile I fixed my hair, I definitely wouldn't act like this in a situation like this, but David's personality was so dominant in to my mind that now that so much time has passed since then I can't believe that I actually married another man.

I drank a couple of drinks to ease the tension but as soon as I saw Andrew for the first time through my son's eyes it was like seeing him for the first time, he was a bit taller than me he had a lovely smile and had a body so fucking hot in that body hugging black suit that a boner formed when I kissed him in front of my family and David and Andrew's friends

I will never forget my first kiss with Andrew, his lips were firm but soft, his tongue was so wild that I was carried away by the intoxicating taste of his saliva and that slight taste of champagne, with his long and strong arms he caressed my round butt giving me a prelude to what would be my wedding night, the grip on his fingers dug into the meat of my ass like teeth, in my old life I never allowed myself to be weak, but now I enjoyed my newly husband's manipulations.

By the time the wedding ended I was drunk enough to let myself go, the real Andrew noticed my nervousness a bit, but he thought it was just the nerves before the wedding, I hadn't seen my son or Andrew in years, I knew what enough for the time we were together and for what his mother said to convince him that I was the real David.

Hours went by and it got darker and darker, when all the guests had left and me and Andrew went up to the room, the real performance began, the second we walked through the door immediately Andrew took my hands and he tossed me onto the bed like I was a wild animal I stripped naked revealing my son's years worked muscles, my heart was pounding like crazy as I watched Andrew take off his shirt in front of me, I had seen Andrew shirtless a lot of times when I was in my old body, but now it was very different.

As if they had a life of their own my hands began to adore Andrew's massive hairy pecs, I pinched those nipples that were in front of me and buried my face in the middle of his pecs, the smell was delicious, sweat, and a slight scent of champagne spilled on his shirt, Andrew seemed to be enjoying it even more than I was, his moans that must have seemed repulsive to me before now only turned me on more and more as he released one.

Andrew I can't contain myself for another second he took me by the waist and turned my body so that I was lying face down towards the bed, my legs settled as if they knew exactly what was happening, I arched my back and lifted my ass to display it in front of Andrew, this time the moans that filled the room were my own.

Andrew had plunged his face into my ass and with the same ferocity that he had desecrated my mouth he did with my anus, even though he had magically acquired the personality of my son David, all the sensations will be new to me, and my God. , what fucking incredible sensations!

As he used his tongue to please me with his strong, calloused, firm hands, he took my penis and began to masturbate it, for a straight man and I have done the old-fashioned like me all these pleasurable sensations were incredible.

But neither me nor Andrew were satisfied, Andrew stuck his tongue out of my hairy ass and slowly inserted his cock inside me, it was a painful sensation, but somehow familiar and pleasant, he fucked me so hard that day that surely we didn't let sleep to the people in the next room.

He was so drunk and so tired that day that I didn't realize when he had put me to sleep, and when I woke up to the rest of Andrew, I almost fell out of bed. Immediately, all the memories of the day before came to mind. I got out of bed as quietly as possible, took the phone and unlocked it with Andrew's face, it had 58 calls from the real David.

I changed into a pair of my son's tight revealing underwear and went into the bathroom, called David and told him everything that had happened that night, completely avoiding that Andrew and I had fornicated.

It was strange hearing my son cry in my old voice, but there was nothing I could do to comfort him, I just promised him that he would try to figure this out and not ruin his life or his new marriage.

Since that day I have been pretending to be David, every day is something new and to be honest it is exciting, thanks to my new personality I was able to fully adapt to David's gay life the new ideas did not seem disastrous to me as they would have seemed to me in my Old body, I always thought my son was a model or something, I soon found out that he and Andrew were the best strippers in the city where we now live, we had loads of money, I never thought fagots would pay so much just to see me dance, having fun, kissing and stroking my husband's cock in public.

It's been three years since then, Andrew and I have a nice house that we remodeled, a lot of savings in the bank, and we recently started an OnlyFans account as a couple, and he never suspected that she married her boyfriend's father.

Actually no one ever found out about the body swap, that's still our secret between me and David, and speaking of David we talked again after the swap, he has a hard time adjusting to his new life as a bigoted middle-aged man, all those stupid ideas that used to be in my head are now in hers but I think she's adjusting to her new gay son.

It's a bit hard to admit, but I prefer my new life, so I'll try not to open a mystery gift from Mr2 swap again.

Hello, if you liked this story and you want more, you can take a look at my Ko-Fi page to see my most recent stories, see my new stories and support me to continue creating this hot content.

#body swap #male body swap #bodyswap #body switch #male transformation

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janeyseymour · 8 months ago

Text

Won't You Be... My Neighbor? -pt 2

Part 1.

Summary: Throughout the preparation for Melissa's court hearing, you find yourself falling for her.

WC: ~2.35k

“You’re a lawyer?” Melissa looks at you as if you just told her you were actually born on Mars.

You nod confidently. “A damn good one too.”

“Then what the hell are you doing here in West Philly?”

You chuckle. “I grew up around here. Liked the area, never really cared to leave.”

“Wow,” she whispers out in amazement. “Would you really be able to help me? I’ll pay you of course.”

You roll your eyes. “Of course I can help you. And don’t worry about a payment. I’d be happy to help you out.”

“That’s ridiculous,” she states.

You wave a lazy hand in dismissal as you sip your wine. “No it ain’t. Just… cook me a couple meals, and we’ll call it even.”

That gets the redhead to laugh a little. “Yeah, I can do that.”

“Tell me a little about him,” you prompt.

So she does. The two of you chat long into the night, and it’s only when Melissa yawns for the fourth time that you smile at her, finish off what little remains in your glass, and stand. “I suppose I should let you get to bed. But let’s… reconvene soon?”

She nods sleepily. “I’ll see you soon, Y/N. And seriously, thank you.”

“Have a good night, Melissa.” You leave the apartment and head down the hall to your own.

As you crawl into bed that night, you think about everything that she had said to you. Genuinely, you feel terrible for the woman a few doors down. She seems to have put her heart and soul into that marriage, only for all of her hard work and care to go down the drain. And from what you can tell, she isn’t exactly swimming in money right now- especially taking on a new apartment and having a young child to care for on her own. But she’s doing everything she can right now to make it work, including working overtime at her school to tutor children who need extra help. Her ex-husband is making absolutely no contributions aside from the extra hell that he is giving her. You find yourself even more motivated to help your neighbor win her case against her husband and gain full custody of her son.

It’s a few days later when you run into Melissa again, and she seems just as frazzled as she was the first day you met her. JJ is on her hip crying again, pleading to not have to go to the grocery store.

You are just coming in from a rather long day at work, and while the last thing you want to do is look after a small child (one who will need lots of tender love and care to calm down), you make your way over to the pair.

“Hey,” you say softly as you adjust your briefcase slung around you.

Melissa runs a hand through her hair. “Hi.” She turns her attention back to her son. “Sweetheart, we have to get groceries for the week… but Momma promises she’ll be quick.”

“I don’t wanna!” the little boy screeches.

“Missed nap time at daycare,” the redhead whispers over his head. Then she presses her lips together in a fine line as she continues to bounce him on her hip. She tries to calm him with a few short hums, but JJ just continues to cry out.

You blow out a breath. “I can take him for a little while you go grocery shopping,” you offer softly.

Those green eyes meet yours immediately. “Oh, you don’t have to do that.”

“I don’t mind,” you say with a soft smile. “And it looks like you could use a break from kids for at least an hour.”

“Are you sure?” Melissa breathes out. “Because I can take him- he is my son.”

“I know he is,” you chuckle quietly. “But I also know that it’s okay to lean on someone to help you, and I told you I’m here for you.”

The teacher sighs softly. She looks down at her crying little boy. “Baby, Miss Y/N says you can stay with her while Momma goes grocery shopping, how does that sound?”

JJ whines out, but he looks to you with curious eyes and nods just once. His cries immediately start to soften as he realizes he doesn’t have to go to the dreaded grocery store and sit in that uncomfortable cart. He rubs at his eyes as he lets out a small yawn. “Momma?”

“Yeah, JJ?”

“I love you,” the little boy mumbles into Melissa’s shoulder.

“I love you too, honey,” the woman smiles softly as she presses a soft kiss to his head. “Can I put you down now so you can go with Miss Y/N?”

JJ nods, so Melissa sets him down on the ground. He immediately reaches for your free hand that isn’t holding your water bottle.

“Be a good little boy, okay?” the redhead instructs softly to her son. He nods, and you lead him down to your own apartment.

He’s as happy as a clam to sit with you while you go through a few more papers, and then you know it’s time that you should probably start making dinner. With a soft sigh, you lift him to your hip and start pulling out ingredients to make a meal.

“Dinner?” the little boy asks as he starts playing with the baby hairs that have fallen out of your ponytail.

“Yeah, hun,” you smile softly. “How does spaghetti sound?”

“I love pasetti,” your little neighbor mumbles.

You chuckle quietly as the way he says the word but nod. “Then that’s what we’ll have. Does your momma like spaghetti?”

He gives you a cheeky smile in response.

By the time that Melissa comes around to collect her son, you have him calmed down, fed, and giggling as you play Candy Land with him. However, she looks absolutely furious when you open the door.

“You okay?” you ask her quietly, although you very much know the answer already.

“Peachy,” is what she retorts. “C’mon, JJ. I have to get dinner started.”

“But Y/N already gived me dinner, and we saved some for you!” the little boy announces from his place on the floor, donned in one of your sweatshirts.

The redhead furrows her brows. “What?”

“I hope I’m not overstepping,” you say softly. “But he was hungry, I was making dinner, and I figured you might like to come home and not have to cook today.”

“That… wow,” Melissa sighs quietly. “Thank you.”

“It’s on the stove, and if it needs warmed, you’ve seen where my microwave is,” you smile at her as you return back to your game with her son. “Feel free to grab a glass of wine too if you want.”

As the redhead makes her way into the kitchen, she realizes that she can’t remember the last time someone made her a home cooked meal, even if it was something as simple as spaghetti. Joe had cooked for her maybe once as a way to get into her pants, and before then… it was her grandmother while her own parents were in the middle of their terrible divorce and custody battle.

The mother gets her dinner, and then she’s settling on the floor next to her son. She eats in silence, enjoying the fact that she does not have to entertain her son. She also watches as you handle him with such ease, making him smile and giggle the way that only she and Barb can get JJ to act. He’s such a sweet little boy, and the redhead would be lying to herself if she said that watching you with him didn’t make that small attraction to you just the slightest bit bigger.

You of course let the little boy win, and when he does, you tickle him relentlessly claiming that he was just too good and that he must’ve been cheating. His infectious laugh only makes you chuckle, and you know that you would do anything to keep this little boy happy- he already has a piece of your heart.

Then he tiredly crawls into his way into your lap and lays his head on your chest. “Sleepy,” is all he gets out as his eyes start to droop down.

The redhead stands, only half finished her meal. “I guess I should get him-”

You raise a hand as you stand and settle the two of you on the couch. “Don’t even worry about it. He can sleep on me while you finish your meal, and then you can tell me why you came in so pissed.”

Melissa chuckles, but she situates herself back on the floor. She watches the two of you for a bit as you lull her son to sleep with mindless humming and your fingers combing through his hair.

After a bit, you look down, and you know JJ is asleep. “So, you wanna tell me what had you so pissed?”

“Fucking Joe,” is all Melissa sighs out. “Told me that he’s looking for the best family lawyer in the city and that he’s gonna get custody of my son.”

“Well he’s screwed then, because that would be me,” you roll your eyes. “And I’m already taking your case on. Speaking of, there are a few papers I’ll need you to fill out in my briefcase, but I can get them to you tomorrow.”

“You’re the-” her eyes go comically wide.

“I am,” you say cooly. “85% success rate, and he doesn’t know that the odds are already stacked against him with most judges tending to rule with the mother having custody. And if he tries to pull any shit, I’ll make his life a living hell.”

And Joe does try to pull a bunch of shit- threatening Melissa, having his lawyers try to find loopholes around most things. And you just document it all. You and the redhead prepare for the case mostly after long days of work over a meal with that sweet little boy curled up in your lap and wearing one of your sweatshirts.

As the two of you prepare for the court case, you get to see more of the Schemmenti household. You get to see Melissa when she’s at her happiest, playing a simple round of Chutes and Ladders with JJ to take a break from all of the preparation. You also see her when she’s done up for school, and you swear she’s taken your breath away quite a few times. But you also see her at her lowest of lows, when she’s terrified that she’s going to lose JJ and that Joe’s threats are genuinely scaring her to the point of tears. You see her when she’s clad in her pajama bottoms and Eagles sweatshirt, ready to rip her hair out over the meltdown her son is having, and yet she’s still soft and warm with him. And it all… it makes you feel honored that you get to see her for everything that she is- apparently that isn’t a common thing for her to do, to let people in. And yet here you are, getting to know her and see every side of the redhead- even the parts that she doesn’t want you to see.

Her son is obsessed with you in the sweetest way, always coming and knocking on your door to ask if you can play a game with him or to simply give you a hug before he gallops his way back down to his own door with a proud look on his face.

You would be lying to yourself if you said that you weren’t happy to find yourself a part of their little bubble and that you were falling more and more in love with your client each and every day that you get to see her (which is of course everyday, whether that be to chat over dinner, prepare for the hearing, or just a simple ‘hello’ as you pass each other in the hall). But she… she’s your client, and she’s going through a messy, messy divorce, and you don’t even know if she likes women. You have your own theory that she’s bisexual, but nothing has been confirmed. You can’t, in good conscience, make a move on her. So you don’t. You sit with your feelings and try to not let them consume you.

The day that you spent hours preparing for comes, and Melissa slides into her place very nervously with her son in her arms. She looks absolutely stunning in her dress pants and blazer, and JJ looks precious in his little outfit that you have no doubt is his Easter best.

“I thought we spoke about not bringing him here,” you say in a hushed tone.

The redhead runs a hand through her hair. “I know, I know. My sister was supposed to watch him, but she bailed last minute, Barb can’t watch him because she’s working at the school, and you’re my other babysitter.”

“He better stay quiet,” you warn. “It’s not uncommon for judges to put children in contempt if they’re noisy.”

“He won’t be,” Melissa promises you. “He’s got his little fidget toy, and we already talked about how to act because we don’t want to get taken from Momma.”

The hearing is long and arduous for all parties, but when that gavel comes down and the judge rules that Melissa has sole custody of her son with Joe only being allowed supervised visits due to his excessive drinking, the threats he had made, and his other habits you know it was all worth it.

The mother immediately bursts into happy tears while Joe starts to fume. He starts screaming and cursing, and the court officers begin to rush him out.

He’s not out of the room before he can get out, “You’ll pay for this, you bitch!”

Melissa, too caught up in smothering her little boy in love, doesn’t even pay attention to his words. And later on, she wishes she would have.

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson

#melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary

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cvpiddszn · 2 years ago

Text

𝐝𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐮𝐞 | 𝐣.𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬

a/n: part three has been anticipated. i've been extremely busy rn, BUTTTT the last part is here, but i will continue to write for these two because i love them. a masterlist is in the making!!!! also might write for ellie and quinn, nyx and luke, AND kie and nico

summary: birdie finally comes forward about her feelings

warnings: babies, suggestions towards sex, major miscommunication, fluff

word count: 3.1k

series: part one, part two, part three

My head was fucking pounding at the commotion downstairs. I could hear the squeals of the twins, their squeaks making the hangover worse than it already was. I tossed to the other side, feeling the cold sheets beneath my body at the new position. I closed my eyes hoping that sleep would consume me but alas: nothing. I knew the minute I walked down there Blair would know I was upset. With her empath ways which I silently cursed plenty of times, she could always sense when something was wrong but I knew that she wouldn’t say anything unless I told her myself.

I crawled out of the bed, making it and clearing out all of my stuff. We had plenty of guest bedrooms but Ellie and Quinn had sort of claimed this exact one which was closest to baby Amara (which I would’ve thought was a curse waking up to her cries). Closing the doors softly in hopes that I wouldn’t be caught coming out of the guest bedroom.

I nearly slipped into Jack and I’s room without trouble but a small Lowen was blinking at me, “Mommy?” He asked, his head tilted to the side in a question and I closed my eyes sharply praying that this was all some kind of bad dream.

I turned around and opened my eyes, masking my face with one of contentment, one that showed that I was happy with my life. He stood right in front of me, so I leaned forward kissing his forehead, “Yes, baby? What do you need?”

“Why’d you come out of Auntie Ellie and Uncle Quinn’s room?” Lowen’s blue eyes were held with curiosity and sometimes I wished that these boys inherited less traits of Jack.

I crouched down, placing my hand against his cheek, smiling softly. “I was just making sure the room was ready for them, cleaning up. I saw a hot wheels car that was on the carpet. We wouldn’t want Auntie Ellie slipping and hurting herself on it. Would we?” The lie came easy, and I felt terrible having to lie to my boys but they weren’t old enough to understand. The words that Jack had said played through my head, but I knew that he would try to hide it from our kids for as long as he could. He believed in fixing things, he always had.

With a nod, Lowen raced down the stairs eager to do whatever it was that he was being entertained with right now. I finally walked into the room, seeing the blinds already open letting the sun come in. The alarm clock on Jack’s side of the bed read ‘10:29’, and I wanted to curl into the large bed and sleep. I was uncomfortable last night, and extremely cold knowing that J wasn’t there to warm me up. He was like sleeping beside a heater. always warm and never cold, which was why I was a good contrast for him. To cool him off when he got too warm.

Walking into the bathroom and locking the door behind me, I saw my reflection. My hair was a mess of curls, my makeup smudged, eyes were nearly red from crying. Starting the shower turning the dial much hotter than usual. To the point where I knew that it would turn my skin red after I got out.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Lake ran toward me, throwing himself at me as I made my way to the bottom of the stairs. Everyone was sat in the living room, Amara content to play with Ellie on the floor while Jack and Quinn had a hockey game already playing. I nearly rolled my eyes before my son flung himself at me.

I caught him with a grunt, his legs clinging onto my thighs instead of my hips. I dragged him along, kissing his head feeling my arms beginning to get weak as he continued to cling. “Morning, sunshine.” I grinned down at him, letting myself sit down on the couch beside my husband. I knew Jack wouldn’t want his brother to know about his relationship problems and he knew that I didn’t either so he let his arm rest just behind me. A simple gesture that had my heart racing.

Lake crawled up to my lap, hugging me for a quick second before moving to play with his brother. The boy couldn’t sit still to save his life, always needing to be preoccupied with something. As he left, Jack’s hand grabbed onto my shoulder pulling me in while he continued to talk to his older brother. My legs pulled up to the side and I watched as Ellie spoke to my little girl in a quiet voice to make sure not to startle her even though she had two older brothers who are extremely loud.

Without thinking my head resting on Jack’s shoulder, I closed my eyes comforted by his warmth. When I opened my eyes I saw Ellie’s eyes nearly question me. Kiera must’ve told her something so I only looked away, avoiding her eyes because I knew that she could read me just as well as I could read her.

I stood up leaving my human heater, “Hey, Ellie, you mind helping me in the kitchen?” I asked, to which she nodded. “J, you mind watching her?” I asked as Ellie stood up beside me, I fiddled with my fingers resisting the urge to pick at them and pull at the skin.

“She’s just right there?” Jack replied, giving me a harsh look. It was hard to ignore a lot when your husband was actively glaring at you as if I had said the stupidest thing ever.

Quinn slapped his brother’s shoulder, looking towards me and smiling. “We’ve got her, Mads.” Even after I had been married, he still called me a nickname that had my last name in it and I missed the familiarity of being young. “Don’t we?” The oldest Hughes stood up from his spot, scooping Amara up from her spot on the floor.

Looking towards Isla with a smile, seeing her admiration of Quinn with a baby in his arms. I grabbed onto the blonde’s arm pulling her along with me to the kitchen. When we were a good distance from the living room I let her go.

Ellie held her hands on her hips, holding some motherly pose that would’ve made me laugh in any other situation. “Okay, now, what’s been going on? Why is Jack looking at you like you committed some crime against him? Kie had mentioned something-”

My arms wrapped around her quickly, and she paused when she felt that I was crying, my shoulders shaking with every sob. I sank to the floor, and she followed with me. Her hand rubbed circles into my back, there had been plenty of times that we had cried together, yelled (or what Isla considered yelling) at each other, and so much more.

“I can’t, I don’t know how,” None of my words made sense as everything just followed me. Not a sentence seemed to form right in my head or mouth. “J, he- and Amara. I can’t-”

“Hey, take your time. Relax, you’re safe alright? I’ve got you, B. Always.” Her words only made me sob harder.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"Hey angel, you ready to go?” Quinn’s voice came closer, Ellie and I both paused looking up at the boy with wide eyes. My eyes were no doubt puffy and red, while we were both sitting on the floor in a comfortable position that we had been in for a while. I could already feel my ass beginning to hurt from the hardwood under.

Ellie shook her head as I removed myself from her sniffling softly and wiping under my eyes, thankful for waterproof mascara. I grabbed one of Amara’s face clothes ran it under cold water and dabbed it under my eyes to reduce the swelling, hearing their hushed whispers behind me.

“We’re taking your kids to Kie’s, we’ll be back sometime later tonight.” Ellie’s soft voice was heard through the silence, she placed her head on my shoulder in a comforting spot and I bit back the urge to brush her hand off but she knew exactly what I needed even if it wasn’t said. She quieted her voice between the both of us, “I want you to go out tonight, I want you to take the time to fix it. You two are the one relationship I know that can work anything out. You are not your parents, Bird.”

I only nodded, placing the cloth over the tap turning around and giving the blonde a small smile. One of reassurance, that I was okay and that I would be okay. It was something so little, a doubt in the back of my mind. Old Birdie would’ve laughed if she found out what I had been so upset over.

Ellie left the kitchen, passing her husband who gave her a look that had her nodding. I always admired the two, their communication and how with a simple nod Ellie knew exactly what Quinn meant. They were synced up, and if you believed in soulmates; they were the perfect example of it.

“Trouble in paradise?” Quinn finally spoke, keeping his distance from me. Unless I had said or initiated any sort of physical touch, Quinn preferred not to. He wasn’t a big hug person, despite his younger brother being the definition of physical affection. Though he made an exception for me.

I managed a laugh, his commentaries were never all that serious. He knew that was what I had Ellie around for. “Something like that,” I replied, wiping my wet hands on a towel to dry them. Quinn gave me this look that I knew he knew and the dread began once again. The aching feeling of people knowing. The look of pity on people’s faces nearly made me want to cry all over again.

“I’m sure you’ve been lectured enough about this so I won’t bother with it. You know already. I will ask though, are you okay, Mads?” I was silent for a while as he waited for my response, deciding that I needed a drink because my head was beginning to pound once again.

“Word of advice: do not drink when you have kids. You will never sleep or have any freedom. I think it’d be a little different if it was just the boys but Amara doesn’t like letting me sleep at all, she prefers to cry and scream until I get J. Daddy’s girl for sure.” I spoke, hoping to avoid his question. “It was only eight years ago when you swore off women and claimed you never wanted children. Then you got married and I imagine that you’re trying for children?”

We had somehow made our way into a spot in the kitchen that allowed you to peer through the living room. Quinn’s eyes glanced toward Ellie, with a sort of glassy look, it took him a minute to respond but I never questioned it. “I never wanted children, always expected that I would be the cool Uncle who spoiled the kids but kids make her happy. I want her to be happy.” He swallowed, I leaned my head onto his shoulder, to which he wrapped his arm around my arm, pulling me into his side.

“You guys are good together. You’d be a great dad, Quinn.” I reassured him, he kissed the top of my head and I already felt much lighter. The pair were perfect, the quiet and reassuring with the calm and calculated. They would make some kids extremely proud one day.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"Do you have everything? The diapers, the car seat, wipes?” Jack’s worry was clear to everyone as he began to name things on a list like it was memorized and I nearly smiled rolling my eyes at him but bit the inside of my cheek to keep myself back.

Instead, I placed my hand on his shoulder, “Everything is in the bag, nothing has been removed and you even watched Quinn put the car seat in to make sure that it was put in right.” My voice was light and when Jack looked back at me, I could see so much worry. I looked towards the couple at the door, waving them off, “You better leave now before J finds something that you need.” I shooed, walking over toward Ellie who had Amara snuggled in with her.

When I backed up, I could feel a crash into my legs and when I looked down I could see little five-year-old hands on my thighs, unable to wrap themself around me. I turned around in what little space I had being trapped between the five-year-old arms. Lake looked up at me, wide-eyed. It wasn’t often that they left the house without us, sure there was a lot of travelling from Michigan to New Jersey so that we could be close to their grandparents for the summer, but within their five years, there was a lot of going to Jack’s games travelling. Especially when Jack’s team played against Quinn or Trevor’s.

I smiled, ruffling the boy’s hair. Quinn called out to Lake telling him that they were leaving and the boys scrammed from his spot, hurrying out the door and closing it behind him. I could hear the gravel crunching underneath the tires.

Feeling hands wrap around my waist, I embraced the feeling, letting Jack stand behind me and slightly rock me as my head came back to rest against his shoulder while his head stayed in the crook of my neck. Placing a kiss between my neck and shoulder, I sighed aloud, letting out a breath of anxiety that I held.

There was a silence that washed over the house, it was quiet and I wasn’t sure what to do with it. I had been home with the kids for the last six months. Did I know what to do with myself in my free time? It was obvious that neither of us wanted to have sex, especially with the tension that filled our marriage for the last two days.

My hand placed itself over Jack’s pulling it from my body but I kept a hold of his hand dragging him with me to the couch. We sat down, my hand still placed into his and I cherished the feeling of it.

“We should talk,” I suggested finally feeling prepared. Though I wished I had some script, it would help with the anxiety. “About last night, about Amara, about everything. But first I want to say something, and you’re not going to argue with me on it because I already told them yes.” He never said anything so I took it as the queue that I could continue. “I’m going back to work in a month. We’ll hire a Nanny, Amara will already be seven months old. I can’t take care of the kids all by myself anymore. I got a job offer at a University, I’ll be getting paid twice the amount I did working at a High School.”

Jack only stared at me, as if he was trying to process my words and still manage to come up with something smart that wouldn’t make either of us upset, so he nodded. “Okay, we’ll start interviewing people next week. I might not always be there, it’s the first roadie of the season.”

I nodded my reply, I knew that Jack didn’t like Nannies, especially since he claimed that Isadora took care of four children herself without any help but I couldn’t do it. “There has to be changes here too. I don’t want a divorce or to confuse our kids. I want to sleep in our bed, but I was doing some research and it said that babies need to start sleeping in their cribs when they’re six months old or they’ll get confused. Amara is confused and upset right now, I’m giving her formula now and she’s a bit fussy about it and she’s not used to you not being home. Sometimes we have to let her cry it out.”

“I get it, but sometimes we’re both too tired to argue with her.” He stated, and I remembered the time I had even brought her to sleep with us because she wouldn’t stop and the boys were in the room next door. I definitely regret setting the boys in the room next door to the baby.

“Another thing, I know that it’s different for both of us. You would think the second time around and with previous twins, I would be an expert but I’m not. I can assure you that a girl is much different than two boys. One more thing that I know is that I love you, and I’m sorry. I was completely jealous of our little girl getting all of your attention. It wasn’t fair that I was being selfish.” His hand squeezed mine in reassurance and he gave me a soft smile, kissing my cheek gently.

“I know that was hard for you to admit,” He teases with a smile knowing my stubbornness and I slap his bicep in protest, nearly speaking up in my defence before his lips came crashing onto mine and pulling back, “I'm sorry too. But to be fair, it wasn’t that I didn’t want to give you attention. You’ll always be my number one, Bird. Amara is a bit like her mother, don’t you think? Extremely needy and jealous?” He kissed me once again, his hand finding my back before laying me on the couch with him kneeling between my legs, his wedding band creating a chill on the back of my thigh as he brought it up to rest against his hip.

My hands pressed against his cheeks, pulling him closer. “I just love it when you insult me trying to get me in your bed, Mr. Hughes. Might want to watch your tongue.” I teased softly, my nails softly brushing against his jaw.

His brows raised in a challenge and I only grinned further. “You’ll get into my bed, either way, Mrs. Hughes.” Jack’s mouth came crashing against me again, and suddenly it felt as though we were newlyweds unable to keep our hands off of each other. It was rare that we actually slept around the time, staying up late and talking or doing other activities that involved no sleep. Little did I know that I would always remember this night.

#jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes blurb #nhl x reader #nhl imagine #quinn hughes imagine #nico hischier imagine #hughes brothers #luke hughes imagine #jack hughes #cvpiddszn writes

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try-set-me-on-fire · 1 year ago

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hello I am a slut for forehead kisses so may I request that prompt if it inspires? 🥺

I know I said reunion kiss was next but I have conflicting ideas about that one and this popped into my head and google doc nearly fully formed, so here you go. On ao3 here!

By the time Eddie has locked his car and is bolting up the stairs so fast he very nearly trips and eats shit, he’s 23 minutes late.

“Sorry, Cap,” he says, trying not to sound out of breath and discretely tugging wrinkles out of his uniform. “Water main burst near Chris’ school, must have happened after I left the house ‘cause I didn’t get any traffic alerts.”

Bobby snorts. “As your captain I have to say ‘try to be punctual next time,’ but as someone who also lives in Los Angeles… it happens.”

Eddie sighs in agreement and slides onto one of the bar stools. At least it’s not a day where they got called out immediately, he’d feel terrible if he arrived and everyone was already out on the truck. A coffee mug — Eddie’s favorite at the station, a deep speckly green handmade number somebody had found at a farmer’s market — lands next to him, along with a familiar warm presence at his side. He smiles as he looks up at Buck.

“Hello, husband,” Buck says, grin so bright Eddie thinks he might be bioluminescent if they turned off all the lights.

“Hi, husband,” Eddie says, figuring he’d probably glow in the dark, too.

Eddie supposes he’s probably had more eventful 72 hour time spans in his life, though he’s hard pressed to remember one where the majority of the events were this good. It’s not like it started fantastic, his shoulder still hurts like hell from landing on it when the factory floor went out from under them, and there were the three horrifying hours where no one could find Buck and it felt like the world was ending. He hadn’t kept his cool very well, he’ll admit it, and he’s fully expecting teasing to set in any time now that they’ve had a few days and Buck is perfectly fine.

They’d found him in a little pocket in the debris two floors down, not a scratch on him. He’d lost his radio, but otherwise he was sort of just waiting around. Legs crossed, hands behind his head, chill as anything. He could have been at the goddamn beach.

And he’d looked at Eddie, a happy little smile on his face, and said “I knew you’d find me,” and Eddie — who’s lungs hadn’t been working right since he’d tried to call Buck on the radio and got silence in return — had kissed him instead of saying I always will.

And when they’d got back to the station he’d gone ahead and said it out loud, too, and I don’t know how to be without you and I love you, I’ve loved you for so long and move in with me and marry me, we should get married, please marry me.

Buck’s knuckles had been almost creaking with how tight they’d been gripping the sleeves of Eddie’s uniform. “Why? I mean- we haven’t- you never- how could you want that? It’s me, I-“ he’d laughed, trying to make it into a joke. “Won’t you get sick of me?”

“I want to share my whole life with you,” Eddie had said, and then laughed a little breathless. “And Buck, I- I think we already do. Your toothbrush is in my bathroom and I have a green lawn chair because you said it looked like a frog and- and you fixed the holes in my wall and you’re raising my son. We share- my house feels most like a home when you’re there. So. You can be there, forever, if you want. You want a couch? I have a couch. You like my couch.”

Buck had laughed, tears in his eyes, kissed him again, and said “I love your couch.”

So Friday evening they’d been sitting on the aforementioned couch as best friends eating pizza and drinking beer, and Sunday morning they’d got married, and had an all day long party in their backyard with people dropping in and out whenever they weren’t at work or had other places to be and Eddie had smiled so big and laughed so hard his cheeks still ache, and Sunday night he’d had sex with a man for the first time. He, Eddie Diaz, had sex with Buck (who’s last name is now sort of a toss up until he decides how he wants to change it, a process that turns out comes with a lot more paperwork and waiting than a marriage license). Not even just sex- Buck fucked him into the mattress so hard Eddie thinks he may have had some sort of religious experience. He came so hard he got a little mad about it after. Like. Is this what it’s supposed to be like? He could have been having sex this good the whole time? Buck had laughed at him, loud but not unkindly.

He’d learned what it’s like to sleep in a bed beside the man that he loves. Buck is warm and his feet are cold and he is delightfully solid and unmovable. He snores, especially when he curls up in his sleep, but Eddie has spent years sleeping in a big shared room in a fire station and years before that falling asleep in a war zone, so it doesn’t bother him. This morning they’d woken up holding hands even though they hadn’t gone to sleep like that, and Eddie is in love, in love, in love.

Sometime about halfway through their first shift as a married couple they’re called to a car gone over a cliff in the hills. It’s not gone very far over the cliff, and is resting on stable ground, and the occupant inside seems more shaken up than anything, but someone’s still got to get in a harness, and like usual that person is Buck.

Eddie can feel Chimney smirking off to the side as he triple checks Buck’s harness and line, but this is something Eddie always does and not a new feature of some sort of honeymoon phase. Buck’s life is precious, has been since the beginning, he’d never risk it with something as preventable as an improperly secured strap. Back last year, when Buck had been in the coma, it had been the one thing he’d not felt guilty about. The harness had caught him. Eddie had triple checked it. He always has and he’s not going to stop now.

"Be careful,” he says, darting in to give him the quickest kiss he thinks he can get away with. So, that part is new, sue him.

Buck's eyes get wide, and then he nods very solemnly. "I will," he promises, looking at Eddie for another long minute before he goes over the side.

To his left Bobby lets out a huff of air, and he's making a face and shaking his head when Eddie turns to investigate. Eddie raises an eyebrow.

"It's that easy?" Bobby gestures down the side of the cliff, amused. "I should have had one of you marry him ages ago."

Eddie laughs, and turns back to keep an eye on the line.

“We’re going to the roof,” Eddie says, after they’re back at the station. “For fifteen minutes,” he concedes to Bobby’s raised eyebrows. “To engage in strictly pg13 activities,” a final plea.

Bobby sighs, and Hen cackles as he waves a defeated hand at them to go ahead. Eddie hooks his arm through Buck’s and they stumble up the stairs side by side, laughing like they’re getting away with something.

They only got twelve minutes before the alarm rang again, and it was non stop after that till the end of the shift. Eddie’s shoulder is almost too stiff to move at this point, and Buck looks dead on his feet.

“You wanna just come home with me?” He asks, leaning on the locker next to Buck’s as he changes.

“Uh…” Buck looks tempted when he emerges from his t-shirt, hair all ruffled, but then he shakes his head. “Nah, we took both cars for a reason, I should go grab stuff from the loft.” The logistics of very suddenly moving in together are still working themselves out. Eddie thinks he could probably push — Buck practically lived with him before, anyway, what could be at the loft that he would miss so terribly it couldn’t wait another night? — but they’d planned their day like this so they could both go on Chris’ beach day field trip tomorrow without having to squeeze packing around it.

“Alright,” he agrees, though he can’t help feeling a little reluctant about it. He hasn’t been apart from Buck for more than an hour since he’d been lost in a pile of rubble, and he doesn’t really want to go separate ways now. He leans in for a kiss, and the way Buck smiles into it might be able to tide him over for just a little while. “I’ll go get the kid. See you at home.”

“Okay. Goodbye, husband,” Buck says, a little sparkle back in his tired eyes.

“Bye, husband,” Eddie laughs, soft, kissing him again.

There’s three unpacked boxes pushed to the side of the living room and two others empty by the recycling, contents dispersed around the house. By mutual, exhausted decision they’d agreed to deal with the rest some other time and collapsed into bed. They can’t even really make out properly, one or both of them yawning into it repeatedly until Eddie laughs and rolls onto his back, setting his alarm for the morning and settling more comfortably under the covers.

“Night, Buck,” he breathes, leaning onto his pillow to kiss his cheek. “I love you.”

Buck does the little smile with startled-wide eyes he’s done every time Eddie’s said it so far. “I love you, too. Uh- sweet dreams.”

And that should be that, another happy night of wedded bliss, but the thing that Eddie knows and kind of forgot is that after a long and hectic shift Buck gets a little restless no matter how tired he is, brain running overtime, so after trying to wait out his tossing and turning and yawning Eddie eventually sighs, turns the bedside lamp back on, and pokes him in the side.

“What’re you thinking about?”

Buck frowns at him. "Eddie. What if I die in my sleep?"

He doesn’t think it’s a real question, but it still makes his stomach lurch a little. "Why would you do that?"

Buck makes a face. "I wouldn't mean to."

"I mean- why are you afraid of that?"

Buck frowns harder. “I don’t know. I heard once you yawn because you’re falling asleep and your brain thinks you're dying, so it tries to get you a burst of oxygen to save you.”

“Okay, but- you’re not actually dying.” Eddie reaches a clumsy hand under the covers till it collides with Buck’s chest, where his heart is somewhere inside beating steady. “You’re okay. Just tired.”

Buck nods, but he hasn’t stopped frowning. “What if you die in your sleep?”

Eddie hums, shuffling onto his side to face Buck more fully. “I don’t plan to.”

“Okay,” Buck says, trusting Eddie’s word even in a hypothetical he would in actuality have no control over. “What if Bobby dies? Or- or anybody. What if… a meteor destroys the station and we can’t go to work?”

Eddie snorts, and then feels bad about it until he sees Buck grin a tiny bit. “I think we’d still have jobs, Buck. They’d rebuild the station, we might all just have to work at different houses for a while.” Buck frowns again, and Eddie winces at introducing this new worry. “Hey. If a meteor destroys our station I promise I will beg on hands and knees to get transferred to the same place as you.”

Buck laughs, just a small exhale of air through his nose. “Feel like you might wanna stay upright. They might cite professionalism and all that.”

“Okay,” Eddie says, kissing his cheek. “I will beg on two feet to stay by your side whenever I can, as long as I can.”

“Alright,” Buck says, a little choked. He slings an arm over Eddie’s side and settles in close against him, and Eddie thinks that might be it until he says, very quietly, “What if I’m not a good husband to you?”

“Oh, Buck.” This question is a real question, the one that was hiding behind all the others. “You're doing pretty great so far.”

“It’s been like two days.” Muffled, somewhere around Eddie’s collarbone.

“Yeah, and they’ve been a pretty great two days.” He drags his hand around Buck’s ribs, everything made soft sandwiched by blanket and sleep shirt. “I asked you to marry me because I wanted to be married to you. I wanted- you to be married to me. My husband.”

“Yeah, that’s usually why people ask that question,” Buck mumbles, not, apparently, in the mood to easily accept comfort. “But what if-“

“Are you afraid of me?”

“What?” Buck reels back in surprise to look at him. “No. Of course not.”

“Then why are you scared I’ll change my mind?” Eddie can feel the raised line of a scar on Buck’s back through his shirt. The one from getting tossed from the board the first time he’d gone surfing, Eddie’s pretty sure, years before they met. “I won’t. I’m not going to get tired of you, I’m not going to leave you behind, you’ll never be too much for me. You-“ Eddie takes a breath, tries to get his thoughts in order. “You make my life better by being in it, and that has always been true, and you know we’ve gone through some shit before. Even… even when you were suing the city because you were a lonely little idiot and I was pissed at you because I was a mean little idiot, all I wanted was to be by your side. When I was bleeding out in the street I just wanted to be with you. When you were- when you were dead on that ladder I’d have done anything-“ Eddie exhales, hard. Buck is on his left side, birthmark buried in the pillow, so Eddie has to snake his hand up to tilt his head for access to it. They’ve only been able to kiss each other for a tiny handful of days, but it doesn’t feel new, really, when he presses his lips to the pink blotches of skin. “I don’t know how else to explain it to you, but I will keep trying every day for the rest of our lives, if you’ll let me.”

Buck kisses him, hard, holds him tight. “I- yeah, I-,” another kiss, slower. “As long as I can- I’ll tell you, too, I- I’ve never been anywhere I’ve felt- it’s so easy to be here, in your- in our home.” Buck’s fingers find Eddie’s scars, twin bullet holes, touching them so reverently he thinks the scars might heal right up and vanish. “You make me-“ He kisses Eddie’s cheek, up by his eye, his nose, right between his eyebrows. “I don’t know how to say it. If you try every day, can I try, too?”

“Anytime,” Eddie vows. “Every day, anytime you want.”

“Alright,” Buck says, tail end of the word getting swallowed by another yawn. Eddie kisses his forehead again, or maybe just smiles against it. “I love you, Eddie. So much.”

“So much, too.”

It’s a little bit of a stretch to be able to turn the light off again with Buck still wrapped around him, but he gets it on the second try. He’s not sure how well he’ll be able to fall asleep tangled together like this, but that’s fine. Buck is warm. His feet, where they’re bumped here and there into Eddie’s legs, are cold. They breathe in, and on this inhale are entirely synched. There’s no place he’d rather be.

#buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #my writing #911 abc #they’re just fuckin sappy i dunno what to tell ya

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rdr2stories · 6 months ago

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"Am I somehow so terrible that the woman who birthed me no longer deserved the affection of the man whos love created me?" A rdr fanfiction.

A short fanfiction about Jack Marston.

My uncle stood next to me, the brim of his hat shielded his eyes from the sun coming down from above. He held a fishing pole in his hand, his line ended somewhere out in the middle of the river where he had thrown it. My line is only half his length, my small arms could not handle more, he had caught three fish, I had yet to catch anything. I found fishing boring, the flowers in the grass further up the shore looked pretty, they made a nice necklace to mama.

Father, I can’t help but remember that day when you asked me to fish with you, when you grabbed the bucket and the two fishing rods. You looked awkward, but happy somehow, you didn’t quite know what to do with me, I didn’t quite know what to feel. I still found fishing boring but caught a fish before you did, you were impressed and I was unsuccessful in keeping spite from my voice when I told you it was uncle who taught me. You simply replied “oh did he now?”

Uncle was never a good fisherman, yet the day he taught me he told me I was the second little boy he had taught to fish, I used to wonder why I didn’t have a cousin if that was so, but with time it simply made me realise why he hated you.

He died eight years prior to that fishing trip with you father, meaning it had been eight years since my first fishing trip. I had been just four and when I stood with the rod in my hands again I had been just twelve, it had been just eight years since uncles death, you barely talk about him, your brother, I barely remember what he looks like, but I remember what I had seen him as; my father. He brought me a comic book, and I drew him a drawing of a family, it had been him who had taken the place of the father, not you, I carried not his blood but to me he was my father.

It has been eight years, eight years since your eyes last held disgust, eight years since you last yelled at me, eight years since you decided that you wanted to be my father.

While I forgave I never forgot and I never stopped wondering. Oh father, what did I do for you to reject me? What did I do to be unworthy of your love and why was it first when you decided I fit into your life that you allowed me to be your son? Whatever could a child still growing in the womb have done to make you hate it? I am a creation of love, I shared the blood of the woman you held dear, yet that affection not only did not extent to me it was also cut off from her when she came to carry me.

Am I somehow so terrible that the woman who birthed me no longer deserved the affection of the man whos love created me?

Father, did you forget? That day on the riverbed, had you forgetten the way you used to look at me? The way you never even tried to hide your disgust but would shout it so everyone would hear, you were so ashamed by me that you chose to humiliate your son of four years in front of everyone in the area. I cried to mama that day because my child brain did not understand that you hated her just as much as you did me, that she was just as hurt by the way you shouted at her as I was by the way you looked at me.

Father, did you know I used to hide in my aunt’s skirts yet I could still hear the sound when she slapped your cheek through the fabric? I remember it even now though she has not laid her hand on you for eight years, she wanted you to accept me. I was too young to know then, but I now know what she meant when she said “I don’t care how you feel about me, but at least make an effort with the boy.” Did you yell at her for telling you to love me?

Father, did you know I don’t react to my own name? The one we share? The one given to me by my mother before you decided to give me a nickname because the idea that the two of us would share four letters made you angry? I have never once been called by our name, though it has always been a dream of mine.

When you speak to me, you speak as if your voice has never carried anything but love, I wish it was the truth, and although I am happy it doesn’t give sour comments no more I can’t help but wonder when you decided I was worth your time? Was it first when you saw someone else take the role you had taken for granted?

I know the man you called father, the man I called grandfather, never carried your blood and you never his, yet it was also him you drew on drawings and it was him you taught you to fish. We are similar in that sense and because of that I can’t help but wonder when you took me to that riverbed, did you hope you could teach me to fish?

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weebsinstash · 1 year ago

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OHOHOHO, I absolutely LOVE the idea of an unhinged, yandere omega. Who would ever suspect the 'soft little omega' as an actual danger? What can they do, cmon, you should be flattered~

Or even if it's someone like Miguel as an omega, despite him being Absolutely Huge and totally able to crush you like an empty soda can there's this... lingering /urge/ to protect and serve him that he takes full and absolute advantage of.

Like, say he decides he needs an assistant to help him keep track of his busy schedule and any objections you come up with straight up don't matter because He's An Omega and you Have To Help Him. Or just kind of plucks you up one day and informs you you are now on call for his upcoming heats- what're you gonna do, tell this 'clearly vulnerable and fragile' Omega you aren't interested?

You can be chatting to someone and have him come up and literally drag you off and EVERYONE dismisses it or blames you for setting off his fucking 'nesting' instincts like he's not a grown ass man capable of making his own damn decisions.

Or even him pheromone bombing you to make you all pliable and agreeable when he needs it. His Alpha is getting fussy? He just forces your face into his neck until you go all soft and dazed and fuzzy, letting him do whatever he wants because you're just absolutely punch-drunk.

Anon you are opening my mind's third eye right now, there's a post I think about from time to time and it was kinda about gender roles and like certain things being subjective and it was someone going "am I still butch if I have plushies all over my bed" and someone replied something like "dude that's butch as hell, you have all these cute tiny creatures you're being a guardian of and feel protective of"

You're just a female Alpha trying to mind your own business and one day you get a good WHIFF of those Certified Omega Miguel Pheromones and suddenly your stupid ass Hormone Brain is going "hey, hey, you know what would be very Alpha of you. If you took care of that Omega by getting pregnant and giving him a baby. Don't you want to give the Omega a cute little baby or two to take care of and give kisses to and buy little baby clothes for? Don't you want to see his big strong arms holding a lil teeny baby? He'd be SO HAPPY if you gave him a lil baby. Just one. Or a few. Provide for your Omega by taking a fat cream pie from that man. Dont you want the Omega to be happy" and from then on your coochie/instincts are like screaming out half the time you're around him

I guess it can kind of vary depending on how "all consuming" you prefer like heats and ruts and pheromones to be/have an effect on you

And like, yandere and not wanting anyone else besides you or not, I'm sure like he has plenty of fans right but he probably intimidates the fuck out of most people so, you know, he probably intimidates most Alphas too

You're helping him in his office and you can tell he's got a bad migraine from being light sensitive and suddenly you're overwhelmed with the urge to rub his back and ask if he needs anything. You're bringing the man food and drinks every so often and make sure to ask him when he's got enough sleep. One may think, "oh you're a submissive Omega serving and obeying your Alpha" nah son YOU'RE the Alpha and like yeah you are being just nice and compassionate but, you're PROVIDING for him

Fucking nesting ass Miguel. It depends on preference since with ABO sometimes you know, Things Are Different Downstairs, we all need a little girldick from time to time, but, him developing the nesting instincts not even for himself he's like preparing for YOU to be pregnant. Scurrying around making sure his home is well stocked and rationed up like he's a squirrel storing for the winter because, he doesn't want his Alpha to not be able to soothe all her cravings 🥺🥺🥺 that would make him a Bad Terrible Horrible Omega and also you need the utmost care for the baby/babies/pups/whatever word you prefer

The pheromone bombing, godddd. Even if you're still mad and upset I imagine from a biological standpoint that it would at least like, help your body stop like reacting to any negative stress, like how you can be anxious or you can be Anxious Anxious where you're literally having heart palpitations and your chest feels tighter, like, he doesn't want his Alpha to be too stressed 🥺 you want him to bake you some sopapillas or something?

Lyla all "heyyyyy call me crazy but I think judging by the way Reader is so antsy and stockin up on food lately that SOMEONE is about to have their rut ;) maybe you should pop on for a visit"

Miguel: I dunno if I should

Lyla: why, because its questionably ethical and she might sleep with you when she's not in the right state of mind?

Miguel: no because what if I can't please her in bed and she doesn't like me 🥺👉👈

This man sees you holding Mayday ONCE and suddenly he's got a mental catalogue with all the different ways your potential babies could look. Would you let him name any of them Gabriella after his daughter or Gabriel after his brother? Would they have your eyes or his? Hair color? What if you spit out an Alpha with his height? Or maybe you two would have cute Omega babies just like their mom. He's just sitting there mentally going 🥰🥰🥰 while Lyla is snapping her fingers in front of his face "Hey, Hey, Earth to Planet DILF, you've never even kissed her yet, buddy"

Your rut hits and you're isolated in your Nueva York cyberpunk apartment which or course he has the pass key for and, "oh gosh Reader are you ok-- oh no you're suddenly pushing me down and ripping my clothes off, oh noooOoooOoo I sure hope you don't get prrrrregante, I didn't bring any protection 👉👈 *wink wink*"

#yandere miguel o'hara #yandere x reader #yandere spiderverse #sinprompts #yandere stuff

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fountainpenguin · 3 months ago

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Riddle watches New Wish - Post #30

The Battle of Big Wand

Part 4 of reacting to this episode (spoiler-free)!

I LOVE that we get to see so much of Foop's spindly fingers in this episode. The way he wiggled his fingers was one of my favorite body language quirks back in the OG series. He's the same person...

Uh-oh... Dev's starting to have second thoughts now that people are getting hurt... And Irep doesn't like it...

I think it's REALLY funny that Irep's hair looks blue when he's in good lightning and black when he's in dim lighting. Not sure if that was intentional to mimic both his parents' hair and his old curl, but that's super clever if it was.

/record scratch. "So, you're probably wondering how we got here."

Irep remembering why he prefers working alone.

Fascinated by the choice to portray Irep tucking his hands behind his back. It seems to be his thing while his parents lean into the OG show's style of holding their hands like stubby chicken wings. I've been thinking that this whole episode... I have random memories sticking out to me from OG series; I'm gonna look it up.

- Oh, interesting... He does it in "Playdate" (dressed nice and trying to fool Cosmo and Wanda into believing he's rehabilitated after Abracatraz), "Love Triangle" (flirting with Goldie on the playground), "Timmy's Secret Wish" (bragging about being a lawyer), "Two and a Half Babies" (pretending to be a good boy for his teacher at the end so she'll let him go to summer camp), "Terrible Twosome" (swaying Poof to mess around and pull pranks), and maybe others, but that's enough looking. - I guess it's just his thing! That's cool; I don't think that was a gesture I paid much attention to in the OG, but he's done it a lot in New Wish. I think he's happy he lost his stubby arms.

I'm OBSESSED with Dev's realization that he and Irep aren't business partners if Irep doesn't listen to his feelings as a partner. He's gonna realize he didn't listen to Peri, and he's gonna want him back!! They're gonna work it out! ... Hopefully with a mediator!

I like how Dale went from 0 to 100 in paying attention to his son as soon as he realized Dev was capable of business deals. He's not being comforting, but he's interested in talking business.

Dale is one of the funniest characters I've ever seen in my life. Not necessarily for the things he says, but for the commitment to the bit.

His swagless looks, nonexistent charm, and extreme amounts of oddly specific lemonade trauma have captivated me. I desperately want to look at him and say "Huh?? Who invited THIS guy??"

Hands down favorite part of Dale's design is the enormous puffer jacket he wears despite the fact it's obvious he's still super scrawny. But I also like how his child design ALSO has the exhausted lines under his eyes in "Nectar of the Odds," which I'd just assumed were invented for adult Dale until I took another look. Also, on some bizarre level, I feel like Dale has actually recovered remarkably well for a guy who spent 7 years tormented underground in servitude? Is he generous with his money? No. Does he have friends? No. Is he kind to his son? No. Is he capable of resting between projects or just taking breaks in general? Also no. Can he handle people messing with his schedule? Absolutely not. Is he keeping tabs on his abuser to ensure she doesn't wreck his or his son's life? Nope. But does his hard work bring him happiness? ... I don't know :'D But he's good at getting things done when he sets his mind to it, he can host a killer event, he's heavily implied to have amazing robotics skills, and he has insanely quick turnaround on his marketing plans, so he's got that going for him. -> Dale will look at stuff and say "Is anybody gonna hyperfixate on that?" and not wait for an answer. "Self-made" lemonade boy, my beloved... If we get a huge plot twist that Dale is the creator of the Vicky-themed robot babysitters from the "Channel Chasers" epilogue, would that be nuts or what? Me: Wait, what are all the symptoms of hyperfixation again? Lemme look this up... Me: Me: ... Good to know! (It was all of them. All of them are the symptoms)

The Dale ramble I wrote here got so long that I moved it to its own post. I hope you like my shirtless "Dale bad at being on his honeymoon" doodles <3

I'm glad Dale seems like he's doing okay and that Dev didn't bug him with lemons (or throw him down in the dark pit that swings shut from the top, even though that would've been so easy). I think I was right in that I'm probably making a bigger deal out of his backstory than the show intended, but I think it's hilarious.

I do have a history of going for characters who give me "Okay, but where else can I ever get this character / this dynamic?" energy. He's one heckuva guy. I need to put him in a 'fic and shake him up and down like a snow globe. I desperately want him to find out he accidentally hired his abuser to babysit his kid. I hope it was an accident, because if he's kept her number in his contact list, I'm gonna have a talk with him.

I wish we'd see Dale doing "angry at Hazel" stuff. I'm confused as to what the purpose of it was... Are we not going to touch on that in the finale? Was it just to upset Dev, but not vital enough to follow through with as an actual plot point? hm.

-> ?? I feel like it was a big deal in at least two episodes leading up to this big finale plot, so I'm just... surprised? Hm.

I guess I'm not really bothered because I don't think Dale knows Hazel came to Fairy World or that she'll appear again, and I understand why his attention is diverted, but it'd be fun (for me).

Also, this is our second time being robbed of a Dev-Irep sleepover D:

omfg, Irep ditching Dev for Dale is the funniest thing ever.

oh no.

Alone again...

sdlkfj, Wanda has spent this entire series taking shots at Dev because she thinks he's a bitter bully and she kept saying things to Peri like "Blink twice if you need help getting out of here."

I remember posting years ago about how I like to think Cosmo's really good at reading people (especially when it comes to distracting them, like encouraging Jorgen to "scramble the Fairies" in "Abra-catastrophe" before he can separate them from Timmy).

So... I really enjoy that he senses Wanda's going too far and might lose any chance of Dev helping, and he tries to stop her.

oh no... I like how when Wanda is telling Dev about dying from magical back-up and she uses the example of a fairy feeling queasy and needing to use the bathroom and then they explode...

... because that's how the Grim Reaper told Foop he'd die back in "Man's Worst Friend" ("Oh, this is fun! You're gonna perish on the toilet!"), and I've been thinking about it ever since I saw Peri dying on the floor.

I headcanon them dying young, but not THIS young!! /jk

Wanda, I have good news for you! I'm pretty sure that guy you think is dead isn't dead. Pretty sure I saw him when I took my screenshots of Anti-Fairies taking over Earth and (ironically) the memorial scene at Fairy Con.

Irep when the alarm goes off cracks me up. There's no point in posting the screenshot because he's tiny and blurry, but he's so spooked. His eyes take up his entire face. RIP overly sensitive bat ears and weak bat eyes.

Oooh, Jasmine singing is going to do something. Are the Anti-Fairies going to enjoy it despite other characters thinking she sings poorly?

Yes. lol. I was going to theorize in my 2nd post for this episode about whether Irep is still really affected by music, but I didn't bother because I was like "I can't imagine that would come up."

oh no, he is. Not enthusiastically... but he is. Love that for him. This kid's always loved to dance and play loud music. Never change.

oh no!!! They're exploiting Irep's one true weakness...

Diversity win!! The genderfluid bisexual has a gender-neutral response for nonbinary folks he thinks have bad boy energy!!

sdlfjk, I think Irep just found the person he most wants to godparent for. Ever.

I checked "Certifiable Super Sitter" again just in case I missed a bad boy joke, and I totally forgot Sammy screams "Break Vicky like a 2 x 4!" at the top of his lungs while he mimes snapping her neck. He's so funny. I love him. I wonder if Foop ever told Sammy about his "Scary Godcouple" trauma and if Sammy was extra ruffled about Vicky because of that.

Peri: I don't understand what you see in Sammy. He's so... mild. Irep: Not after I talk to him ❤️

okay, nerd.

......... Did Foop have a crush on Goldie back in "Love Triangle" because she has major femme fatale energy?? Discuss.

omg, just realized the reason why Irep's single eyelash felt so familiar to me is because that's how he looked in "Blue Angel." Absolutely hilarious that when he opts for a feminine disguise, he has fewer eyelashes than usual.

- Poof and Foop had 3 eyelashes per eye when they were young, but Peri's lost those, and Anti-Cosmo doesn't show lashes. Jorgen's New Wish eyes don't either (Jorgen wore mascara in the OG series) and neither do Cosmo's (Cosmo also liked make-up) - I ?? have to assume that means Irep is deliberately going for a more femme, nonbinary, or genderfluid vibe of some kind, which is perfect for me! His gender identity is one of his plot points in the 130 Prompts. - Can't believe all those years ago, I clocked Poof as growing up to be "the one suppressing trauma with candy and soda" and Foop as "the one who plays with gender expression" ... I know it's not stated by canon, but you get me...

??? I like how Anti-Wanda seems to be teaching Anti-Cosmo how to make his eyes look in different directions and he's loving it? Unclear.

I also like how with his accent, it sounds like he's saying "Hazel-y," which is cute. I like how he made the effort to find out her name; that's 100% in-character.

They are doing their best!! (They are not)

I like that when confused, Anti-Cosmo's instinct was to turn to Anti-Wanda for advice. That's new for him considering he used to shake her and scream. I'm glad they worked that out. And I'm glad he's exactly as "extinct by instinct" as he's always been <3

Apparently Irep (or at least Foop) gets the "spelling out unnecessary details" bit of his dialogue from his mom??

Like, monologuing important info is one thing, but in the OG series, Foop elaborates on things for no reason, like Anti-Wanda here. lol.

I was kind of worried about the direction Anti-Wanda's reboot might go. I believe what I said was, "I'd be interested to see her redesigned with new clothes and with a reduction on the "Anti-Wanda's stupid" angle in favor of mirroring Wanda better (owing to how I've always felt she was a hasty design slapped down in Season 2 and then they couldn't go back on it when Wanda's character developed further). Anti-Wanda's hit every mark I was hoping for in a rebooted design for her. She's still Southern and goofy, but she's not being played as stupid... She and Anti-Cosmo are equally silly and equally dumb and messing around <3

sdlkfj, Anti-Cosmo out here like "This isn't my party, so I'm down to follow my wife's suggestion that we slip from the room together."

Okay, other nerd; I'm glad you're excited to be alone with your hot wife as you definitely try to catch a real human running around.

ALSO very in character; man LOVES forgetting what he's doing and wandering around!! That's his thing!!!

Me out here like "Oh yeah, now I remember why I wrote a 'fic where no one looked for the captured Anti-Cosmo for 77k years because his family totally thought he'd gone wandering and dissociated and started a new life... oh no.

#Riddle watches FOP #New Wish spoilers #Dale Dimmadome owner of Dimmadome Global #Dev Dimmadome owner of anguish #The Battle of Big Wand #FAIRIES!#Bat cube and associates #The bat with the hat #The best bat queen #Nerdy blue bat son #Dragonfly parents #Purple hippie dragonfly #Glitter child #screenshots #130 Prompts

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