#and my boss left early because his baby was born three weeks early

[uwuwriting]

Zoom meetings with the kids w/ Kuroo, Akaashi and Sakusa

Request: I have been stuck inside the house with my three year old brother for the last three weeks and he keeps coming inside my room and entering the zoom call with me. So that had me thinking. How would our favorite Haikyuu dads Kuroo, Akaashi, maybe Kenma or Sakusa react to their toddlers coming into their room and joining their meeting. - anonymous. 

Awww I love haikyuu dads!!!! I have begun making the smau and I’m already like 3 chapters in but I won’t start posting until I’ve finished it or I’m about to finish it. I wanna be sure that I’ll have a trustworthy upload schedule lmao bc my midterms are coming up next week and I’m dying. Love ya. 💖💖💖

masterlist

rules

warning: fluff

Kuroo Tetsuro

-He was in a meeting with the firm for the past three hours. 

-He was absolutely exhausted and the only thing he wanted was to take a nap with his two year old daughter. 

-You were still at the hospital, your shift finishing in about two hours so he was basically alone.

-Your daughter was playing with her toys in his office, being as quiet as she could but exhaustion started to win her over little by little. 

-Yawn after yawn left her lips but since the sound was so small and barely above a whisper, Kuroo hadn’t realized that his little princess was tired. 

-Standing up with wobbly legs she grabbed her cat blankie and rubbed her eyes as she slowly made her way to her father. 

-With one arm hugging her blankie and the other wrapping around Kuroo’s leg, she rested her head on his leg and slowly sank down to the floor, not tugging at his pyjama leg as he expected. 

-Looking down at her he didn’t think twice before bending over and bringing her into his lap. 

-She let out a small sigh before she clutched his shirt in her small fists and was off to dreamland in record time. 

- “Kuroo-san what do you think?” 

- “Sorry my daughter distracted me.”

-And with that he went back to his meeting. 

-Throughout the rest of the meeting Kuroo rested a hand on her back, cupping her little head lightly rubbing soothing circles on her skull, staring down at her every now and then a smile adorning his features every time he saw her nuzzling into his chest.

-She was a female version of him now that he thinks of it.

-She had his crazy raven hair and stunning amber eyes while her face structure reminded him of both you and him. 

-Her personality though was all you. 

-He knew she was very young but she reminded him of you when you two first met more and more each day.

-Right at that moment she let out a small yawn again, her eyes opening slightly as she repositioned herself on his lap and went back to sleep. 

-He couldn’t love her more, at least that’s what he believed. 

-Each day she proved him wrong. 

-Saying goodbye to his coworkers he shut off his computer and went to the living room couch, laying down with his little girl in his arms. 

-Giving her one last kiss he fell asleep, a smile still present on his features. 

Akaashi Keiji 

- “The author said that those new chapters need to be edited by the end of the month. He will send you the rest when you are done with these.” 

-His eyes were bloodshot from the endless hours he had been staring at his screen. 

-Rubbing his eyes he answered every single question that was thrown at him, wishing that this one would be the last one. 

-But the universe wouldn’t have it that way for poor Akaashi making him stay up late again. 

-Thunder rumbled from outside and he wondered whether or not you had taken your son to bed with you. 

-The four year old boy was terrified of storms from a young age, always looking for comfort in either you or Akaashi. 

-But ever since his sister was born he pulled away from you two, he didn’t ask for help anymore even when he needed it and he didn’t wake you up during the night when he had a nightmare.

-Akaashi was amazed to say the least. 

-Neither of you had said anything to him about how your attention would mostly be on the baby and you guys had never dismissed his needs because of your little girl. 

-It worried him how fast his son closed in on himself. 

-He was already a shy and quiet kid but now you barely heard his voice and it broke both of your hearts. 

-Akaashi was determined to help him get out of this phase and be by his side but this assignment took up more of his time than he would’ve liked. 

-Light danced across the room as the door slightly opened but no one stepped in. 

-Keiji was about to stand up when he heard little sniffles and the light pitter patter of feet on the carpet of his office. 

-And soon enough his son rounded the corner of his desk, one arm wiping away tears as the other clutched the stuffed owl his uncle Bokuto had bought him. 

-Without losing a beat Keiji pushed his chair back and brought him in his lap, giving a small apology to his boss before momentarily turning off both camera and mic. 

- “I’m sowwy.” 

- “Shh I’m here, nothing’s gonna hurt you.” 

-Giving him a kiss on each cheek Akaashi let him snuggle in his chest, a strong arm supporting the toddler while simultaneously making him feel safe and protected. 

- “Sir, I’m sorry to interrupt but could we end it here? My son had a nightmare and I want to calm him down.” 

- “Of course Akaashi-san, give my regards to the little man. Goodnight.” 

-And with that the meeting was over and Akaashi was left with a crying child in his arms. 

- “Hey hey, I told you that nothing’s going to hurt you while I’m here. Why don’t we go sleep with mommy hm?” 

- “I’m sowwy…”

-Akaashi kissed his head again bringing him into a tight hug as he got up from his seat. 

- “There is nothing to be sorry for now come on, mommy would want cuddles.” 

 Sakusa Kiyoomi

- “If we use the new quick that Atsumu and Hinata have been practicing then we would have the upper hand momentarily.”

-Kiyoomi let out a sigh as the meeting he had with the team would not seem to end. 

-They had been discussing tactics for the last hour and a half while the rest of the time they had been informed of the new managers they had been assigned. 

-Kiyoomi never expected to be in a zoom call while being an athlete.

-He thought that it would be useless. 

-What were they even gonna do while in the meeting? Practice? 

-But he was proven wrong once the coach called the first meeting and now Sakusa was ready to pull his hair out. 

-Thankfully he was just laying in bed so at least he was comfortable. 

-You had gone out for some much needed grocery shopping leaving Kiyoomi with his son, not wanting to take your child outside with the virus contaminating people left and right. 

-Sakusa loved spending time with his son. 

-He was a low maintenance child, just like he was when he was young, adopting the same hygiene patterns as his father even at the early age of two. 

-He had just started talking and you wouldn't stop having conversations with him, the baby only uttering a simply “dada” or “momma” or even maybe a “yes” or “no” if you were lucky. 

-It made you happy though, seeing your son slowly becoming more independent. 

-Sakusa was also happy but he was also reminded that he wouldn’t stay this young forever; before he knew it his son would be off to high school or college and he wouldn’t fit in his arms anymore. 

-Lost in thought Kiyoomi hadn’t seen the toddler make his way into the room until he felt the covers being pulled as he attempted to get on the bed *and failed bc he’s just too short*

-Letting out a chuckle Sakusa pushed his laptop to the side and leaned down to grab his son, who was now pouting an expression that was a little too similar to yours. 

- “Is that mini Sakusa I see?” 

-Kiyoomi ignored Atsumu as he settled his son on his lap letting the baby wave at the camera as his “uncles” waved back. 

- “Do you mind if he joins?” 

- “Of course not, every Sakusa is welcome.”

-Giving his son one last kiss on his head, Kiyoomi went back to listening to the boring tactics letting his son play with his fingers in the process. 

-Okay maybe it wasn’t that bad now 

TAG TEAM AY:

@the-arcana-fan-fic @angelwritings @axerrri @reinyrei @dnarez @dark-thoughts-and-red-roses @threeamwriting @letscheereachotheron​ @ezoyscorner​ @storage11037​ @wolfkid22

[sckyie]

word count: 2.1k

genre + warnings: slight angst + family fluff; slight arguments between bo & gf, dad!bokuto, mom!reader, sharing a bed w/family

pronouns used: she/her

a/n: im not even gonna apologize im like so bad at posting on time

It was a hard break up between the two of you. Although it was mutual, the after effects was worse. You found out you were pregnant, postpartum depression, constant court battles, and struggling with just to put food on the table. In the end, with Keigo at now three years old, you two had shared custody of him.

You had finished cleaning up Keigo's room from it being empty the past week. You had just built him a new bed from him outgrowing the last. After putting away your cleaning supplies, you walked to your bedroom to crawl into your sheets. You slowly drifted to sleep thinking about how empty the house felt when your son was gone.

Even if you grew used to the lonesome halls, you didn't like the quiet halls all to yourself. You missed having someone to come home to but since the break up and since Keigo, you hadn't thought about a relationship for a while. All the while your ex had fully moved on.

Bokuto had a new girlfriend, new house, and had moved on in his career. To him, you were nothing more than his kid's mother, or so you thought. There were times where he missed having you around and he sees pieces of you through his son. But, nonetheless he moved on and finds himself with struggling now.

"You can't just say that about Keigo!" Bokuto argued. "My son comes before everything, before you, before my career-"

"Before me? I'm your girlfriend! Why should that bastard child come before me?" Yui yelled. "He shouldn't even come before his mom. I don't understand why she even matters so much to you anymore!"

"She's my son's mother of course she matters!" Bokuto was fuming hearing these words coming out of her mouth. "Don't ever call Keigo a bastard child! Get out of my house!"

"Like hell I'll leave! I'm not moving! You either pick me or that little monster." She yelled. Bokuto raised his eyebrows and scoffed. Without speaking, he picked up his keys and wallet. "Where are you going?"

"Taking my son away from you," He glances back.

"Oh yeah? And where would you even go?" Yui says.

"Like hell I'd tell you," He says. "When I get back though, all your things better be gone. If anything of mine is missing, I'm suing you. We're done."

Bokuto continued on to his son's room and the anger boiling in him diminished after seeing his sleeping figure. He slept just like his father, his body sprawled all over, his toy lamb in one hand and drool down the side of his face.

"Keigo, hey buddy," Bokuto carefully woke his son up.

"Mm? Is morning Papa?" Keigo stirred.

"No, bud, we're going to Mama's," Bokuto says. Keigo instantly perked up. Just like his dad, his immediate amount of energy got him ready to see his mom. "We're gonna stay at Mama's for a while so only take your bag and your lamb for you to sleep-"

"Are you sleeping at Mama's?" Keigo rubs his eyes, holding his stuffed sheep close to his side. Bokuto nods, putting some of his son's necessities in his bag. "Why?"

"Yui and I are...not being nice to each other right now. Papa just needs to stay somewhere else," He says.

Bokuto carried his sleepy son to the car passed Yui to avoid any questions from him. Though, he did as more and more questions throughout the car ride. "Papa look Lamb-Lamb is driving like you," He shows off his toy. "Wait Papa? I thought Mama and Papa don't like each otver."

"It's not that we don't like each other baby, Mama and Papa used to love each other so much, that's how you were born..." Bokuto paused. "It's just Papa hadn't showed Mama he loved her enough that we chose to spend time apart. It's okay baby, I just hope Mama will let us sleep over."

Pulling into the driveway, Bokuto looks at the clock and sees how late it is. Letting out a big sigh, he goes to help Keigo out of his car seat. His little hand wraps around his dad's finger as they walk the path up to your front door. Keigo plays with his shoes as Bokuto nervously fiddles with his keys.

The door rang as you stirred in your sleep. You pulled off your comforter and turned to your alarm clock to see that it was past midnight. Knowing you had work tomorrow, you were irritated to check the door. Who could possibly be here at this hour?

You threw on a cardigan to cover your pajamas and walked into your cold living room. You peeked into the peephole and saw a familiar tall figure with a little boy clinging onto him. You quickly open the door, confused to see the two.

"Mama!" Keigo practically jumps into your arms.

"Hi Bubbas, what are you doing here so late?" You ask.

"Yui and I got into an argument and she said some...choice words about Keigo. I told her to leave and she gave me an ultimatum. So we left and now we're here," Bokuto scratches the back of his neck.

"Can we stay wif you Mama?" He says into your neck. "Papa and I don't wanna stay with Yui."

"Of course you can stay," You say putting Keigo down, letting him hug your leg as you turned to Bokuto.

It was awkward to say the least. Spending the night with your ex-fiancé can't be that bad right? "Kotaro you don't mind sleeping in the living room right?"

"No! Papa and Mama sleep in the same room!" Keigo tugged at your shirt. "I wan Papa to sleep next to you because Mama's and Papa's always sleep next to each otver. Like how Yui sleeps next to Papa!"

"You're so smart, Bub," You gritted your teeth. "But Papa isn't with me remember? He loves Yui, so he can't sleep next to Mama." You took a look at Bokuto but could tell he was uncomfortable at the sound of his now ex-girlfriend's voice.

"Please?" Keigo's eyes began to water, hinting that he wasn't just tired but he wanted his way too. "I wanna snuggle in Mama's bed with Papa."

You looked at Bokuto, both of you felt guilty if you had turned your son down. It was just for one night, right? You guided the two boys to the room and flicked on the lights for Keigo to find his way. "Papa look at Mama's big bed!" He runs and jumps into the center of the king size bed. "It can fit all of us!"

Bokuto chuckles at your guys' son and sits on the left side of the bed. Keigo notices and began to whine and push his dad off the bed. "Woah bud, I thought you wanted me to sleep with you guys, why are you pushing me off?" He asks.

"Mama sleeps on that side," He points out.

"Ko, can you turn on the lamp?" You ask, shrugging off your cardigan. You flick off the light, leaving the dim light beside your bed. Your ex-fiancé and his mini-me both yawn in sync as they adjust the sheets. "Let get some snuggles bubbas."

"I love you Mama," Keigo kisses your nose once you laid in bed beside him. He flips over and kisses Bokuto's noses and whispers, "I love you Papa."

The three of you slowly drift off into sleep. It was a peaceful thing. The three of you asleep together like a family for the first time. Bokuto had shifted in his sleep to hold onto both you and Keigo. Both your legs intertwined and your bodies encompassed each other's warmth.

Bokuto was the first to wake up. He woke up to the blinds letting sunlight hit his eyes. He slowly looked around the orange tinted view and spotted you directly in front of him. Keigo had snuggled close to your chest like he always did whenever he was sleeping in bed with you. Bokuto smiled when he saw you like this. Though he didn't say it, he knew.

He was still in love.

You were his first love, his first true love that he could show off to people. The type that made people feel jealous that you were even a couple. It wasn't anything bad between you two when you broke up. Just time, Bokuto couldn't manage any of it. He wasn't showing you he loved you like he did. He didn't make time for you. He didn't know when to show up for you. It wasn't enough and so you broke up.

You slowly woke up with your body regularly waking up to the early morning. Your fuzzy vision locks onto Bokuto's figure and you smiled slightly. You rubbed your eyes to focus your sight and saw him smiling back at you. "You still snore," You pinch his nose and carefully shift out of bed not moving Keigo. "I have to get ready for work. There's coffee in the kitchen and food in the fridge. Keigo's not going to wake up until around nine, so you can make breakfast if you want."

"What are you going to do?" He asks as he moves a piece of hair out of your face.

"Shower, now shoo," You say. You walked into the bathroom locking the door behind you. Your cheeks were bright pink while Bokuto threw up his hands hiding his face.

Once out of the shower, blow dried your hair and got dressed. Just in time to hear Bokuto calling you that he made you coffee. "Here, just how you like it," He serves. You accept the cup sipping on the beverage, trying to ignore the tension between you two. "You can go to work early, I can take Keigo out today since I have the day off."

"Maybe I should take a day off for a family day," You laughed.

"Keigo'd like that," Bokuto suggested.

"I know he would but...I'm just...y'know," You hesitate.

"I know," Bokuto responds. "But, I'd rather spend one family day with you than anymore with Yui."

"Is that true?" You ask, fiddling with your mug. Bokuto hummed in response. He took a step forward to lean beside you on the counter. It was a strange feeling. "Ko...Can I ask you something?"

"Sure, something bothering you?" He sipped is coffee.

"Do you...still...think about me?" Why were you asking this? It's not right to be asking this but you wonder if you're still on his mind. At some point in time you were there the love of his life, so could there be a chance?

"Everytime I look at Keigo," Bokuto says without hesitation. That's when you felt it. A flutter in your heart told you there was still hope for the two of you. The glow on your cheeks spread as you go to message your boss about your day off. You looked up to see Bokuto gleaming as you finished typing. "Thank you Y/n," He says. You smile back but something in the air shifts between you two.

Your eyes meet. The wholesome smile fades and the nostalgic feeling of your past relationship is brought back with a single look. Before you knew it, you both found yourselves leaning over the counters. Your breath just grazed over his lips before placing it on his. It was almost like putting the last piece in a puzzle. Both your lips moved together as if you two had never broken up.

What were you doing? You knew kissing your ex-fiancé was wrong but you weren't stopping yourself. Bokuto's hand rested on your cheek as you deepened the kiss. He hummed as you two felt one another's lips after so long. Only until you heard the bedroom door open, you pulled away slowly. "Mama? Papa?" Keigo asks sleepily. He drags Lamb-Lamb on the floor as he enters the kitchen looking for his parents. Bokuto smiles at your rosy cheeks before kissing your nose and walking to pick up his son.

"Good morning buddy," He kisses Keigo's cheeks.

"G'morning," He says groggily.

"Good morning my Bubbas," You smiled walking over to greet your half awake son. You peck his cheek as he rubs both his hands along your warm face. "You wanna spend the day with Papa and I?" His eyes light up and nodded excitedly.

"Can we go to the beach, Papa? I wanna show Mama how I spike!" He asks very excitedly. The three of you continued to discuss your day plans with thoughts of breakfast, volleyball, and lots of giggles. Little did you know, that this was the first of many of your family days. That old nostalgic love was blooming once again from this single morning.

taglist: @amillionfandoms-onlyoneme @just-a-siiimp @d0llpie @elianetsantana

[vennilavee]

stormy skies

pairing: levi x reader, and baby kaiya

summary: it’s not the first time you’re home late from work.

word count: ~2260

warnings: a shitty boss, some cursing

a/n: wrote this because i couldnt sleep last night due to the current us election... enjoy

***

Levi peeks his head into Kaiya’s bedroom, and sees her fast asleep in her bed. She’s surrounded by pillows, her lion stuffed animal, as well as her butterfly, shark, and flower pillow. It’s been about an hour since she fell asleep for her afternoon nap. 

He thought he heard a noise on the baby monitor, but it was nothing. Just her shifting in bed.

Her face is squished into the pillow and Levi can’t help the small upturn of his lips at the sight.

Kaiya’s already almost two years old, and neither you nor Levi can quite believe it. Levi claims that she’s the spitting image of you, but you claim the opposite.

You’re both right.

Levi’s career allows for him to work from home for most days. You and Levi had spent the better part of two weeks setting up his office, back when you had first moved into your new home. Before Kaiya was born. He has two monitors on his mahogany desk, a sleek keyboard and an even sleeker mouse with his laptop plugged into the dock.

A photo of you and a photo of Kaiya sits next to the monitor on the left, and a photo of the three of you next to the monitor on the right. The baby monitor is in front of him, just in case Kaiya wakes up before she is supposed to.

He’s eager for Kaiya to wake up and for you to come home, and he puts his glasses on to get to work and hopefully end his day early.

***

Levi shoves a hand in his hair, expelling a deep sigh as he logs out of work. He stretches his arms and his legs, only to be alerted by a slight vibration from his phone.

It’s a text from you:

angel: gonna be late today… levi: again? angel: yes :(

Levi sighs to himself, waiting a few seconds before replying.

levi: ok, be safe 

It’s the third time this week, and he’s lost count of how many times you’ve come home late over the last few weeks. At first, it hadn’t bothered him. But then it became a habit. And then Kaiya was asking for you during dinner.

That was the first of a few fights. They usually ended with you promising that you’d be better about it and draw the boundaries you needed to draw.

And yet… 

Levi hears Kaiya waking up on the baby monitor, her soft coos and calls of ‘daddy’ and ‘mommy’ nearly echoing in the silent room. He turns the monitor off and walks upstairs to her bedroom, where he finds her sitting up. Her smile is sleepy and she makes grabby hands for him with her stuffed lion tucked under her arm.

“Daddy,” She beams at him.

“Slept well, Kai?” Levi asks and she doesn’t reply, instead tucking her face into his neck. Levi brushes his lips over her forehead as he carries her downstairs. She’s still warm from her nap, grey eyes blinking sleepily. 

Levi gets started on dinner with Kaiya on his hip and feeds her spoonfuls of sauce and bits of meat here and there, which she accepts eagerly. She smiles widely with her nose scrunched when she likes it. You’d claim that her smile is identical to Levi’s, but he disagrees.

He’d tell you that everything good about Kaiya comes from you.

Levi gets lost in his thoughts of you, wondering if you’re on your way home. He’s having trouble remembering the last time you both had gone to bed together without the melancholy of your work schedule hanging over your head.

He sighs. Kaiya hears him and looks up curiously.

“Daddy?” Kaiya says, patting his cheek, “Mama?”

“Mama’s comin’ home late, kid,” Levi says, “Again. Do you miss her?”

Kaiya lets out a sigh suspiciously similar to his.

“Yeah. Me too, kid.”

***

By the time you come home, it’s well past dinnertime. Levi had left out a plate for you, but by now, it’s cold. You kick your heels off and place them in the closet neatly, grimacing at the covered plate on the dinner table and your empty living room.

You can almost taste Levi’s disappointment. But you just want to see Kaiya, you know she’ll be able to cheer you up.

What a shitty day. Shitty week. Shitty month. With every day that goes by, you’re getting closer and closer to telling your boss to shove his foot up his ass. 

You immediately head into Kaiya’s bedroom, where you’re certain Levi is telling her a bedtime story. You’re not even sure what time it is- is she asleep? Are you too late?

You hate bringing the smell of work home, preferring to change into comfy clothes before greeting Kaiya and Levi with a kiss. But you can’t wait, not tonight. Not when you know that Levi is upset with you and when you miss Kaiya so much that you ache.

“Kaiya?” You whisper, “Kaiya, baby?”

“Mama!” Kaiya squeals, looking up from the book that Levi’s reading to her, “Hi, mama!”

You kneel next to her bed and open your arms for a hug. She jumps into your arms happily and you kiss her cheeks and her forehead as she giggles wildly.

“I missed you, baby,” You mumble, holding her close, “So much.”

You pull away and cup her cheeks tenderly, rubbing with your thumb. Kaiya only looks at you with the same disarming silver eyes that belong to Levi. Her eyes are soft when she looks at you, her grin bright and toothy.

“Daddy, story,” Kaiya says, pointing to Levi.

“Can mama join?” You ask quietly, looking at Levi.

“Don’t be stupid. Of course mama can join,” Levi murmurs, patting the spot next to him.

You don’t even admonish him for saying ‘stupid’ in front of your daughter and he says nothing about you wearing your work clothes in his daughter’s bed.

You kiss the corner of Levi’s mouth, taking his hand in his as he continues to read to Kaiya. He squeezes your hand every so often, listening to the way Kaiya gasps and giggles at the story. Levi doesn’t tell the story with much fanfare or gusto- he tells it just the way Kaiya likes. With the always present dry intonation of his voice.

You think it’s Kaiya’s favorite sound in the world.

Kaiya points at the picture in the book and giggles, looking up at you for confirmation that you can see what she’s pointing at. You hold her hand and laugh with her too, melting at the way her smile holds your world in it.

After a few more pages and a few more laughs, Kaiya begins to grow tired. She rests her head against your arm, stifling a yawn. You rub her back to lull her into sleep but she tries to stay awake.

“Are you sleepy, Kaiya baby?” You coo, kissing her forehead.

She doesn’t reply, instead closing her eyes. It only takes a few more forehead kisses and back rubs for her to fall into deep sleep. You smile at Kaiya and look at Levi, offering him a small smile as well.

“Did you eat?” Levi asks, nudging your shoulder and gesturing for you to get up.

“No, I put it in the fridge. Not really hungry. Just want to be with you and Kaiya,” You murmur.

Levi gives you a long stare and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Don’t be stupid. Go eat. I know you probably haven’t eaten since noon. Because of your shitty boss,” Levi says pointedly.

You sigh, heading into your bedroom to change out of your work clothes and wash up before heading downstairs.

He doesn’t join you.

You eat quickly, somewhere halfway between enjoying and savoring all of the flavors and barely chewing so that you can go upstairs to talk to Levi. You wash the dishes in the sink quickly before double checking the locks and heading to your bedroom.

Levi’s in bed, reading a book and casts a look of acknowledgement to you. It feels odd, devoid of his usual affections. You know why. Because he’s upset with you.

You curl next to him, cupping his cheek to get him to look at you. Levi sighs heavily and casts his book on the nightstand.

“Your job is fuckin’ shitty,” Levi says without missing a beat, “Kaiya misses you. A lot.”

I miss you. A lot. The words hang in the air.

“I know, I’m sorry. I hate it,” You whisper, crumbling under his scorching gaze, “I didn’t want-”

“So? What are you gonna do about it?” Levi asks flatly, voice full of ice, “It’s your dream job, right?”

It unnerves you.

“Levi,” You say hollowly, “Don’t be like that-”

“Not bein’ like anything,” Levi says easily, “Your daughter fuckin’ misses her mama. This is the first time you’ve tucked her into bed properly in who knows how long- she asks for you all the time, always asking for her mama. And where is her mama? At work-”

“Levi,” You beg quietly, “Levi, stop-”

“How many times are we going to have this conversation?” Levi says hotly. You raise your eyebrows when you hear the emotion in his voice. He’s clearly been thinking this for quite some time.

“I’m sorry,” You plead, taking his hands in yours.

He pulls them away from you and your lips part in a surprised ‘o’. You’re quickly confronted with how much you’ve been hurting him.

“Levi, I’m gonna fix it. I swear- I’m gonna fix it, I’ve already talked to my boss a-and told him I can’t do this anymore-” You blubber, tears forming in your eyes.

“Can’t do what anymore?”

“The late nights-”

“Yeah, they’ll stop for what? A week? Then start back up again,” Levi scoffs coldly, “You promised you’d fix this. So fix this.”

“Levi- stop,” You mumble, “You’re being mean-”

You can’t help it- you start to cry harder, fat tears pool in your dark eyes and roll down your cheeks, as your bottom lip trembles. You let out a loud sob and turn away from him, not able to meet his eyes. Levi blinks at you, almost nervously. 

“Shit,” Levi says under his breath, “Shit-”

He wipes your tears from your cheeks and pulls you into his chest, his chin over your head. His arms are tight around you, heartbeat lulling you into calm. Neither of you say anything for a few minutes, despite the apology on the tip of his tongue.

Levi hates seeing you cry, especially when he is the cause of your tears. But he knows, even if his words were cruel, the problem still exists.

It takes a few minutes for you to breathe and for your sobs to reduce to sniffles. 

“I’m trying, baby,” You mumble, “I told him I need to scale back. But- he’s just so, fucking-“

And then you start to cry again. Levi wonders if there’s more to it than you’ve been saying. He wonders if there’s more of a problem than just late nights. Levi rubs your cheek with his thumb, giving you a few more minutes to gather your thoughts.

“Is something else going on?” Levi asks, most of the heat gone from his voice.

You’re quiet again, looking up at him. Trying to figure out how to allow the words to bubble up and leave your throat.

“What is it, angel?” He asks, cupping your chin for you to meet his eyes.

“He’s just so,” You sigh, “He’s so… mean. He talks down to me sometimes when we have group meetings- and I don’t even realize until the meeting’s been said and done. God, I hate what a boys club it is there. 

Oh, and his favorite is that one guy who always steals credit for the work that I do- and he said he’d dock my bonus if I didn’t start picking up the slack, but I am, I’m picking up everyone’s fuckin’ slack and all I’m good at doing is hurting you and hurting Kaiya- and I n-never wanted to be like that. 

I never wanted to be the person who put their career in front of their family. I should be able to have both, but not- not like this.” Your rant ends with a fresh wave of tears threatening to spill over.

“Angel,” Levi breathes, kissing your forehead, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I thought I could handle it,” You mutter honestly, “But I can’t. I need to get out, Levi.”

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” Levi says, pressing his forehead to yours.

“You didn’t. It’s okay, I get it. I get it.”

“I should’ve helped you. Not yelled at you.”

“How could you know? I didn’t say anything,” You scoff, slipping your hand under his shirt to rub his chest. You missed him, and this.

“Thought we said no secrets,” Levi says lightly, “No more. We’ll figure it out.”

“‘M not working for most of next week. I need a break,” You say, pressing yourself closer to Levi.

“Good. We’ll figure it out, alright?” Levi says and squeezes your hand. He dips his head for a kiss, and you can taste the sweetness of his unsaid apology.

“You, me and Kaiya?” You ask with a small smile.

Levi nods, quelling your fears with a series of featherlight kisses that deepen quickly. His hands wander your ribcage, holding you close and warming you up from within. Silver eyes melt into your brown, and you’re reassured by his steady strength.

You’ll be okay. You, him and Kaiya. You’ll be okay.

tags: @simpingmaize

[dreamcatcherjiah]

Tight Hearts | JHS Part 12

💞Tight Hearts (Idol!Hoseok x Reader)

Plot: The red string of fate was visible when our grandparents were children. They would play around, following the strings from one person to their soulmate and laugh happily when these two people inevitably found each other. It was a reason for happiness. But little by little, people stopped seeing the threads. In bad times, it was dangerous, it was a liability, so people stopped seeing them to protect each other from harm. When I was born, nobody saw them anymore, they just felt their soulmate. Anxiety, happiness, sorrow, love, the hearts of the soulmates are one, feel the same things, but it is almost impossible to find your soulmate, now that the threads cannot be seen.

Tight Hearts Masterlist

Part 12

A/N: AND SO IT BEGINS! The first of my July updates guys! I hope you guys liked this part as much as I loved writing it! Let me know your thoughts!🥺♥️ If you want to be added to the taglist, send me an ask!

Three weeks later.

Sitting in the kitchen island with your laptop open and your work email mocking you from the screen, you pulled your hair and you wondered what, apart from Hyejin, was keeping you working for that company. 

After some nasty negotiations with your boss by BigHit’s lawyers, you had been allowed to work from home while the situation normalised itself and you could be on the oposite side of town away from Hoseok without feeling pain. If you had known the middle aged man who called himself the soul of the company and took advantage of your absence would spam your mailbox with thousands of emails a day, you wouldn’t have had second thoughts about quitting. Damn the company and damn getting paid, you would think about finding a job using the time you were wasting answering all those emails. But no, you were a very headstrong woman and you would be damned if all the efforts you had put into securing that job went down the drain because you had happened upon a patronising asshole of a boss. 

You let your head fall to your hands. Tomorrow was going to be a long day, Hoseok and the boys had to be in three different places throughout the day, filming advertisements, recording for their comeback and getting ready for the different end-of-the-year performances. You would have to tag along, posing as Sejin’s new shadow, manager in training he called it, so people wouldn’t be suspicious of the new addition to BTS’s entourage. According to the head manager, if you just kept a low profile and didn’t stop tapping away in your computer, no one would think to question what your were doing. But for you to be able to calmly tap away in said computer, you needed to get all the phone calls done before you left the apartment. 

Some arrangements had been made so you could stay in they guys apartment the nights when there was an early schedule and Hoseok couldn’t stay with you in his own apartment. Taehyung was now Jimin’s new roommate and he had kindly (not unteasingly) offered his room for you and Hoseok to share when you simply couldn’t waste time commuting to the dorm and then the company. 

You could hear the cheery voices of the boys in the living room, watching some movie about a train full of zombies on its way to Busan. How they had managed to rope Hoseok into watching the movie was beyond you but you guessed that, since you two had been spending huge amounts of time together, it made sense that now that you could stand further apart, Hoseok spent time with his brothers. Your heartbeat accelerated and that was all the warning you needed before a shrill scream that sounded suspiciously between a mixture of Yoongi and your soulmate reached you in the kitchen. Chuckling, you put your phone down and listened while holding your breath for the next round of groans and complaints. What a big bunch of babies. What you did hear were some rapid footsteps approaching you and you didn’t bat an eyelid when two slim arms snaked their way around your waist and the head of your soulmate settled on your shoulder. Hoseok had taken to hugging you from behind when you weren’t paying attention to him, the uncertainty and nerves that you felt through the bond letting you know that he was still uneasy about invading your personal space or distracting you. Every time you noticed how he was about to extract himself from you, you would hold his wrist and tighten his hold around you, nesting against his chest. This time was no different and you let go a small sigh when you relaxed against his frame, your head finding purchase on his shoulder. You let your head roll to the side, ghosting a small feather-like kiss on his ear, making him giggle.

“Why do you leave me alone with all those adrenaline-junkies, horror-movie-lovers when you are just here scowling at your computer?” He asked as he moved your bodies side to side in a playful manner. “How long do you think you still have before you can come to the living room with us?”

You raised your hand to his head and caressed his brown hair out of his eyes.

“I don’t want to be in between you and the boys, I have done that for almost a month already,” you told him, a smile tugging at your lips at how he started shaking his head no the moment the words were out of your mouth, “go back to them, I still have to make some calls.”

He disentangled himself to you and, turning the stool where you were sitting, put his hands on your shoulders. His lips formed a small pout. That was something you had started noticing as the weeks went by. He was reserved most of the time, keeping contact to the minimum and only opening up when the two of you were alone. You guessed that falling asleep one in each side of the bed and waking up in each other’s arms had something to do with his (and your) gradual openness. But when it was late and he was tired, he became clingy and tended to use his cute face to get what he wanted from you. Usually it would be to turn off the lights or to get him a glass of water from the kitchen before you went to bed; but tonight he seemed to have a different plan.

“You are not in anybody’s way, do you hear me?” He sternly chastised, waiting for your nod to continue, “the boys were the ones who asked me where you were and invited you to join us in movie night. Now, what have we told you a million and one times about not isolating yourself?” His chin up and a fake angry look on his face, he was enjoying himself way too much with the whole telling you off thing, but still, you could not just not humour him. Not when his brown hair was tossed in every direction and looked as fluffy as it did right now.

“That I am part of the family now and I have every right to be anywhere with you guys as long as I don’t hide food from you and don’t try to isolate myself…”

His face lighted up like a christmas tree and he proceded to exaggeratedly motion to your work set-up.

“And what are you doing right now?” He question, eyebrow nearly reaching his hairline.

With a cheeky grin you booped his nose and took advantage of that brief moment when his face turned all shades of red and he looked at you open-mouthed to turn back around and answer your phone as it started ringing. I am working, you mouthed to a still malfunctioning Hoseok, with a wicked smile pulling at the corners of your mouth.

While you talked on the phone, you could see him look back towards the living room at the same time that a bit of uncertainty reached you through your string; at watching the movie or leaving you alone in the kitchen alone, you wouldn’t know.

Then Hoseok walked towards you, kissed the crown of your head and began cleaning the kitchen. It was a weird feeling, the both of you being in the same room, you working and him organising cabinets full of ramyeon, in companionable silence. It felt domestic. That word would have scared the living daylight out of you a few weeks ago; thinking only of the strong reactions you had when you thought that meeting your soulmate was automatically loosing your independence made your head spin. That had been only three short weeks ago, when you had been so guarded against this sweet man, who would buy four different bottles of shampoo in case he didn’t buy one you liked, the man who would put his life upside down for you, going as far as spending every possible night in his own apartment away from his brothers in case you felt uncomfortable living with seven men. You knew that somewhere deep down, he felt guilty for keeping you from your life as it was before you found him, he sometimes felt violent when some gesture or caress felt more a produce of the bond than natural and genuine. He felt sad when he had to say goodbye to his brothers when the managers dropped them off at night, and felt imposing when you had to follow them around to three or four different schedules in a day. In fact he had been mulling over that last one for the past few days; it wasn’t as if you could read his mind, you had just learned to map his emotions and the second he started looking at you sideways and feeling anxious you knew it was because of the busy schedule they had the next day.

Voices distracted you from your musings and you focused on how two sets of footsteps neared the kitchen accompanied by two hushed voices.

“… but I don’t want to interrupt her, hyung. She is working and that is her first priority…” whispered Yoongi.

“Well, if you had been a bit longer around her instead of being buried under your huge pile of self-imposed work, you would know her boss is an a-hole,” answered Jin. They were not walking anymore, they had stopped near the kitchen entrance, thinking they were whispering low enough for you not to hear them. You couldn’t help but agree with Seokjin. “I am this close to making her quit and hiring her myself, even with our workload she would be less stressed. Now kindly shut up and help me pry those two from the kitchen and take them back to the sweet delights of watching Joon internally scream.”

Pretending not to have heard anything, you swallowed a giggle and, noticing Hoseok hadn’t realised his brothers were coming, you went back to your laptop playing the oblivious victim too.

“Oh the joys of working over-time!” Exclaimed Seokjin as a way of making their presence known and he managed to startle Hoseok into dropping the cup he was rinsing into the sink.

“I promise I tried to stop him Y/N, you can keep working,” said Yoongi, who cleared his throat and, seeing Hoseok’s frantic movements behind your back, added, “But on the other hand, since you have been working very hard these past few weeks, I think it’s time you take a small break.”

His face was a sweet confused picture, torn between his desire to let you know that you could keep working if so you wanted and the one to please Hoseok.

“Come on, you two. Hobi, drop that cup, if you keep cleaning it you’ll turn it transparent. And Y/N stop being an excuse for him to get out of watching the movie,” Jin’s eyes, gleaming with mischief moved from a fumbling Hoseok to you and you rolled your eyes.

“Let’s go, it’s about time I clocked out at…” you looked at your watch, “well, 11pm.”

Hoseok walked up to you, nerves reaching you from his side of the bond, and guided you behind his brothers to the living room where Jimin got closer to Namjoon to open up a spot for you both.

The rest of the boys didn’t even flinch when Hoseok hugged your waist and rested his head against your collarbone; they all knew Hobi needed some sort of support to get through the rest of the movie and while he might have relied in one of the boys to get that emotional help in the past, none of them seemed to care you had now become his buffer. In fact, they all seemed to be smiling happily and content when you joined them.

The movie was in full swing now and, more than once Hoseok had opted to hiding his face against your neck, letting small whimpers linger in his chest. His body was tense and you could feel his lips pouting against your neck.

To try and calm him down, maybe take his mind off the movie, you started caressing his neck with your nails. Any other person would have started giggling at being tickled, but not Hoseok. He told you one morning when you woke up with him wrapped around you with his head on your chest that when he was a child, his mother and sister would caress his arms and his chest to get him to fall asleep. Since that particular piece of information had been incorporated into your knowledge about him you hadn’t been able to use it until now; running your nails in circular motions at the nape of his neck, up behind his ears and down to his shoulders. His body slowly started unwinding and relaxing against yours, his eyelashes fluttering against your skin and his slowing breath lulling you slowly to sleep. You wouldn’t know who fell asleep first, but soon you were drifting off. 

Hushed voices arose you from your deep sleep but too comfortable now nested under Hoseok’s arm you didn’t stir. The voices were gaining more definition as the seconds passed and becoming easier to understand.

“… and you were out hyung, like a log,” was saying Taehyung.

“I didn’t expect you to be so comfortable with her so quickly, if I am to be honest,” continued Namjoon and you tried not to tense up.

Hoseok took a deep breath and dropped a small kiss to your head.

“It’s not the bond, if that’s what you’re getting at Joons,” he told him firmly, “she is IT, guys. Her personality is brilliant, she can keep up with us, she knows just what to do when I am tired or frustrated… Just the other day she took a look at me, dropped her bag and latched herself to my studio chair with me. I just worked but she was there, steady, dependable, sweet. She doesn’t crave attention, mine or anyone else’s, she’s just happy being there. I can’t put into words what she makes me feel, but the fact that she’s my soulmate is only one more certainty for us. I can see me perfectly falling hard for her when we get to know each other more, that’s how I feel.”

Silence had fallen over the room as his brothers processed what Hoseok had just said, and you were happy enough to repeat your three word confession inside your head, not knowing Hoseok felt and reciprocated the same feelings through the bond. Verbalising is taken for granted, but you two had your own way of showing love.

Tag list: @obsessoverthesmallthings247 @mabel-k3 @tremendousminyoongi @justignoremepleaz @demonic-meatball @hadaises @littlestsweetpea28 @rjsmochii @take-u-2-an0ther-w0r1d @gali-005 @salty-for-suga @indicisive-af @nomimits7@lysjeon @raisatarannum1234 @purplelady85 @threedecadesofawkward @valentynxmgc @acopenhagenarmy @ephyra1230 @minluvly​ @trashandshook @brinascorpio @trixiethebear @hobi-love @geekgirl41402 @annywaa @mirajanefairytailmage​ @alpacaparkaseok​ @bangtan-madi​ @preciouschimine​ @forget-me-notforever​

[petersasteria]

C.O.A.P.A - Tom Holland || 1

Title: Chronicles of a Pregnant Assistant Pairing: Platonic!Tom x Assistant!Reader Requested? Nah 3,567 words

TH Masterlist || Ultimate M. || New Taglist

DISCLAIMER: *This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either products or the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.*

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Your adventures as Tom Holland’s pregnant assistant.

* * * *

When Harrison told Tom that he would no longer be his assistant, Tom was sad that he wouldn’t be able to travel around with his best mate anymore. Although, he understood Harrison’s reasons. After all, Tom was very supportive of his best mate’s career like how supportive Harrison is with him. Tom was just upset is all. But Tom knew that it was time to move on and find another assistant. Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to check out the applicants because he was too busy to do so. He gave Harry the job and after interviewing many, many applicants, Harry finally found the right assistant.

“Welcome!” Harry greeted with a smile. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you again.”

You smiled back and said, “Thanks for hiring me.”

Harry showed you around on set and taught you the things that you should know and you got to meet Tom too which was cool. The first few days, Harry was glued to your side because you were still getting the hang of your new job. After a week, you were already able to do things on your own without Harry (which kind of bummed Harry out because he enjoyed your company).

It was lunchtime and you were on your way to buy yourself two cheeseburgers and large fries when Tom and Harry saw you on your way out.

“Hey, Y/N!” Tom waved you over. You walked to him and said, “Yeah?”

“Nothing.” Tom laughed. “Where ya off to?”

“I’m going to buy lunch. I’m craving two cheeseburgers and large fries.” You chuckled shyly.

“That sounds like a lot.” Harry said with raised eyebrows.

You nodded slowly and said, “Well, of course it’s a lot. I’m eating for two after all.”

“Eating for t-” Tom cut himself off with a gasp. “You’re pregnant?!” He shrieked loudly, causing everyone around you to look at the three of you.

“Who’s pregnant?” The director, Sheila, asked as she approached the three of you.

“Y/N’s pregnant.” Harry answered.

Sheila smiled and asked, “Really? How far along are you?”

“Three months tomorrow.” You smiled. “I’m not really sure if I’m showing or if I’m bloated. It could be both, but either way, as long as the baby’s healthy, I’m good.”

“I was the same when I was pregnant with my first born.” Sheila reminisced.

“How many kids do you have?” You asked politely. You could use advice from not-first-time moms.

“I have three.” Sheila grinned. “My husband was really helpful.”

“Speaking of husbands, where’s the baby’s father?” Tom asked with furrowed eyebrows. “I mean, I don’t see you calling anyone or whatever.”

“He left, so I’m raising this baby alone.” You said. “So, thanks for hiring me, Harry.”

“You’re welcome.” Harry said. “I’ll go out and buy your lunch. My treat, okay? Just sit back and relax.” Before you could say anything, Harry left to buy lunch for you, him, and Tom.

“Yeah, we can stay in my trailer! It’s really comfy there and I have little snacks.” Tom smiled and grabbed your arm. “Let’s go!”

“I’ll talk to you later, Y/N!” Sheila called out with a chuckle.

“Okay!” You said loudly as Tom took you to his trailer.

When you got there, he made you sit on the tiny couch and made sure you were comfortable. When he was done, he just stood there and looked at you which made you feel awkward.

“You know,” You spoke first. “I should be the one doing this to you because you’re the talent.”

“But you need it more than me because you’re pregnant.” Tom said. “Also, I’m not letting you be alone with this pregnancy. We’re friends now and friends help each other.”

“That’s so sweet of you. Thank you.” You smiled as your eyes began to water. You were truly touched with the gesture. Harry arrived after a while and all three of you ate together.

Fourth Month

Tom kept his word and helped you with your pregnancy. He read articles and books and he regularly checked on you in between shooting. Today you weren’t going to work in the morning because you had a check up and Harry temporarily took your place. Tom forgot about this and he was upset when he didn’t see you.

“Where’s Y/N?” Tom asked Harry when they took a five minute break.

“She has her check up, remember? She’ll be here after lunch.” Harry answered, not looking up from his clipboard.

Tom’s eyes widened in shock before breaking out into a smile, “Oh my god, Harry!”

“What?” Harry looked at him.

“She’s four months pregnant.” Tom said and he had a look on his face as he’s hinting at something.

“Okay and…?” Harry asked, not getting it.

“This means she gets to know the gender of the baby now. I’m so excited!” Tom grinned.

“Oh, really? Let’s wait for her to get here, then.” Harry chuckled.

You arrived thirty minutes after lunch. Everyone greeted you and asked how the baby was. Ever since everyone on set found out about your pregnancy, they kept asking about you, the baby, and giving you advice. Apparently, the majority of the people on set are married and they have kids.

“Y/N!!” Tom excitedly ran up to you. “How was your check up?” He asked as he took your bag from you as both of you walked to his trailer.

“You don’t have to carry my b- okay..” You chuckled. “Thanks and my check up was good! The baby’s healthy and I’m healthy.”

“That’s amazing!” Tom said as he looked at you expectantly. “Is there anything else?”

“What do you mean?” You asked, even though you knew what he was talking about. The suspense was killing him.

“Y/N!” He whined. “What’s the baby’s gender?”

You closed your mouth and gave him a playful look. You shrugged and he sighed, sort of upset that you wouldn’t tell him. His mood quickly changed when he said, “Are you planning a gender reveal?!”

“Mhm.” You nod.

Tom smiled. He asked shyly, “...Am I invited?”

“Don’t be silly. Of course, you’re invited! You and Harry are invited.” You said before getting inside the trailer. Harry gave you a quick rundown of what happened and you nod along, trying to catch up. Tom was watching the two of you as he settled your bag on the little table.

Harry helped you put the equipment for assistants on and noticed that you were already showing. He gasped and said, “I see your baby bump! That’s so cool!”

“What? I wanna see!” Tom exclaimed and stood in front of you as he bent down a bit and saw your baby bump. “Wow. You really are growing a little life in there. I can already tell that you’ll be an amazing mum.”

You looked down and grinned, “Thank you!”

Tom stood up straight and smiled at you before telling Harry about your gender reveal. The gender reveal will happen on the weekend because all of you weren’t working. To say that Tom is excited was an understatement. He was BEYOND excited. He already felt attached to your baby.

The weekend came faster than you thought and before you knew it, you were getting ready for your small gender reveal party at your apartment. You were re-checking everything when you heard a knock on your door.

You walked to your door and opened it only to reveal Tom and Harry. You glanced at your watch before looking back at them, “You guys are an hour early.” You chuckled and let them in.

“We wanted to hang out and help you set up.” Tom said as he looked around your pastel pink and pastel blue decorated apartment. “But it looks like you’re done.”

“I’m kind of done. I just need to put frosting on the cupcakes and I need to arrange the chocolate bars and then I have to take a shower and get ready.” You said as you closed the door.

“We can help! I can frost the cupcakes and Tom can do the chocolate thing.” Harry said.

“Yeah! You can trust us.” Tom said, raising his right hand as if he was pledging allegiance to something.

You looked at the two of them and asked if they were sure. You could do it yourself anyway and you didn’t want Tom and Harry to do anything. They were your guests and Tom was still your boss. But they gently shooed you away from the kitchen and told you that they’ll be okay with it and you shouldn’t worry about it. They were right and soon other guests arrived.

Everything went smoothly and it was now time to reveal the gender of your baby. There was a big balloon over your head and you were holding a pin to pop the balloon. Everyone was filming the whole thing and they all counted to three for you to pop the balloon. When you heard them reach ‘three’, you brought the pin to the balloon and popped it. Blue confetti fell out and everyone shouted for joy.

“Oh my god!” Tom squealed as he continued filming the whole thing on his phone. He panned his phone camera around the room to see everyone congratulating you and some of them were pulling you in a hug. He stopped filming and put his phone back in his pocket. He looked at you and smiled because he couldn’t believe that you, his close friend, will become a mum.

“She’ll be a great mum.” Harry said as he took pictures of the happy environment. Tom nodded in agreement and muttered, “Yeah, she will.”

Fifth Month

You went to work while rubbing your lower back; trying to soothe the pain. As if on cue, Harry jogs over to you and grabs your bag. “You know, you shouldn’t really carry stuff.” Harry said as he put on your backpack and held your hand to walk.

“Yes, but important stuff is in there. Also, I can walk. My back just hurts.” You winced in pain. You both arrived at the trailer and Harry opened the door for you.

“Thanks, Harry.” You smiled and walked in.

“You’re welcome!” He said and shut the door behind him.

“There’s my favorite pregnant lady!” Tom exclaimed when he saw you. He was in the makeup chair when he saw you. He was smiling. You greeted him and the makeup artist before sitting down on the couch. You were tired already and your feet were swollen. You took out your water bottle from your backpack that Harry set down on the table in front of you and drank from it.

“Y/N.” Tom said as he looked at you through the mirror. You looked up at him and raised an eyebrow as you kept drinking your water. “You’re… glowing.” He said with a sweet smile.

“I agree.” Harry chimed in.

“It’s the pregnancy glow.” The makeup artist, Raffy, said. “My sister was glowing too when she was pregnant. How far along are you, love?” He asked as he checked the makeup on Tom’s face.

“Five months now.” You smiled.

“Ahh, I see.” Raffy said. “I bet you’re having a hard time sleeping.”

You nodded frantically and said, “I couldn’t sleep at all last night because I can’t find the right sleeping position and he’s kicking me a lot. I’m also very hungry.”

“Do you know what you’ll name him?” Tom gushed. “I have ideas already.”

You chuckled and said, “I have a few names in mind. I have it written down on a notebook actually.”

“Oooh, interesting.” Tom said.

“He’s just saying that so you could name the baby after him.” Harry snickered.

“That’s not true! It’s genuinely interesting to know that she has her own list, but I also want the baby to be named after me. My name is really adorable.” Tom argued. Raffy did the finishing touches on Tom’s makeup before packing up his things and leaving.

“Will Harry take my place?” You asked.

“What do you mean?” Tom questioned.

“You know… for when I leave.”

“You’re leaving?!” Tom frowned. “You can’t leave! You’re my best assistant.”

“I meant when I’m on maternity leave.” You chuckled.

“Oh. Yes, Harry will take your place then.” Tom confirmed. “How long will you be gone?”

“I’ll leave on my seventh month, don’t worry. I can still take care of you, child.” You joked causing Harry to laugh and Tom to playfully glare at you.

“What’re you doing this weekend?” Harry asked you.

“I’m taking prenatal classes.” You answered.

“I don’t even know what that is, but that sounds so responsible of you.” Tom said as he actually clapped his hands for you. You giggled and grabbed a snack from your backpack before happily eating it.

“Any baby updates?” Tom asked, his eyes full of excitement. You were chewing your food when your eyes widened in realization when you remembered that you haven’t told them about what your doctor said.

“You can talk to the baby now!” You said giddily as Tom and Harry looked at you, amazed at the new information you gave them. “The baby’s learning how to recognize voices now and he can hear better than before. So, you can talk to him.”

Tom immediately knelt down in front of you and started talking, “Hey lil guy! I’m Tom and I can’t wait to meet you! I think your mum’s really cool for being a single mum and you’re in good hands. She loves you, I can tell.”

“Just don’t give her a hard time, yeah? She’s already going through so much just to bring you into this world all happy and healthy. Be good, okay? If you’re good, I promise to buy you all the toys that you want. I love you already, kiddo. You’ll do great things.”

Sixth Month

It was your day off and you were laying down comfortably on the couch. You were watching The Office when you heard a knock on your door. You paused the show and sighed loudly. “Wait a second!” You shouted as you struggled to get out of the couch gracefully. When you successfully got up, you walked to the door, left hand on your belly and opened the door with your right hand.

“Hey!” Tom smiled and walked in with a big red binder in hand.

“Okay, sure. Make yourself at home.” You playfully rolled your eyes and closed the door. He placed himself on the couch and waited for you to sit next to him. When you did, he turned to you excitedly and said, "Okay so I feel like I've upgraded from acquaintance to friend to close friend and now, to best friend."

You chuckled and nodded for him to continue knowing he wasn't finished yet. He picked up the red binder that was decorated with baby related stickers and showed it to you.

"This is my project." Tom said as he put it back on the table. "I've been doing this since last month, so I'm very prepared."

"What exactly is that?" You laughed.

"Baby shower ideas, silly! I want to plan it, but I'll make sure it'll cater to your needs." Tom said proudly.

He opened the binder and showed you all the things he thought of for your baby shower. Tom already thought of the color scheme (and back up colors in case you didn't like what he picked), the venue, the virtual invitation designs (with Harry's help of course), the food, the music, basically everything. He went all out and it was full of details.

"This is actually really impressive, Tom." You said in amazement as you flicked through the binder.

For the rest of the day, you and Tom planned your baby shower and you honestly couldn't wait for it.

Seventh & Eighth Month

Ever since you started your maternity leave, Tom has been calling you everyday and he makes sure that you’re eating right. He was getting busier and busier and he’s so bummed that he couldn’t visit you especially now that you could barely move around.

At this point, your baby was becoming more active and responsive. Your belly was growing and your feet were swollen and sometimes you cry whenever you see your clothes from before you were pregnant. You already thought of a name for your baby boy and thanks to Harry, he helped you babyproof your car and your whole apartment.

You weren’t doing anything extreme and you felt so bad that you took exercising for granted because exercising while pregnant was peak difficulty. Everyday you were learning more and more about your baby boy. And so far, here’s what you knew:

- Whenever he kicks a lot, your singing or humming makes him stop.

- He moves around a lot when he hears Tom’s voice.

- He’s constantly hungry.

- You feel him stretching to wake you up in the morning.

You feel really good that you’re bonding with your baby and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Ninth Month & Labor

You were really thankful that your mum would be able to temporarily live with you. After all, you needed all the help you could get. Your baby boy was healthy and you honestly couldn’t wait to see him. Tom and Harry were visiting today and you haven’t seen them in a while, so it was nice to see familiar faces.

“Hi baby!” Harry said to your belly, making you laugh. “I’m Harry and, uh, we all want to see you now. We’re all really excited!”

Tom turned to you and asked, “Is there anything you need? I feel like you should double check the baby bag and maybe there are still places in the apartment that need baby proofing.”

“I’ve got it covered, Tom. I promise.” You smiled. “Thank you for checking up on me, though.”

“That’s what friends are for.” Tom grinned.

A few days later, your water broke and your mum rushed you to the hospital. You weren’t able to tell anyone about it because it all happened so fast. You were just on the couch scrolling through Instagram and then it happened.

After fourteen hours of labor, your baby boy was born.

You were cradling your newborn when your mum took a picture of the moment and sent it to you. You weren’t able to see it until your son was placed in the hospital bassinet next to your bed. You grabbed your phone and saw that your mum sent you the photo she took of you and your son. You smiled and posted it on Instagram. Not much caption was needed. You only wrote down the date and a red heart next to it.

Tom didn’t go on social media often, but a little voice inside his head told him that he should open Instagram right now. Going with his gut, he opened Instagram and as soon as he opened it, the first picture that popped up was yours. His jaw dropped and he called for Harry.

“What?” Harry said as he jogged over to where Tom was.

“Y/N gave birth!” Tom exclaimed as he showed the picture to Harry. Tom looked at his brother whose jaw was also dropped in shock.

“Oh my god!” Harry said. “We should visit her.” Tom simply nodded and decided that they should go after work, so they could stay there without work interrupting them.

After work, Tom and Harry quickly went to the store to buy a few things for you and the baby before going to the hospital. They arrived an hour later and you weren’t expecting any visitors at all. Your mum opened the door and saw the two of them.

“Mum, who is it?” You asked quietly as you breastfed your son.

“It’s Tom and Harry.” Tom said. You smiled to yourself and told your mum to let them in. She lets them in and they gasp when they see the baby boy.

“He’s so precious!” Harry gushed.

“What’s his name?” Tom smiled softly as he set the gifts down.

“Laurence Evander Y/L/N.” You grinned. “Laurence comes from Little Women, so you can call him ‘Laurie’ and I just really like the name Evander because of the meaning.”

“What does it mean?” Harry asked.

“It means good man.” You answered as you stopped breastfeeding him. The two men looked away as you fixed your hospital gown. “Do you guys want to hold him?”

“Yes please.” Tom said, looking at Laurie in awe. He went closer to you and you carefully handed Laurie to him. Tom wanted to cry as soon as you placed Laurie in his arms. He looked at you with glassy eyes, “You did a good job, Y/N. He’s amazing.”

You smiled at him as you leaned back to watch them. Tom was whispering sweet nothings to Laurie and at one point, Laurie held onto Tom’s index finger causing Tom to finally let out his tears.

Harry asked if he could carry Laurie and you agreed, of course. Tom carefully passed Laurie to Harry and he was quick to notice some of your features on Laurie.

“He’s beautiful.” Harry complimented. “Just like you.”

You smiled shyly, “Thank you.”

“We got gifts for you.” Tom piped up as he arranged the gifts in the corner before turning to you with a sincere smile, “Welcome to motherhood.”

* * * *

𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐈𝐍 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐖𝐎

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐓𝐎𝐌 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @blueleatherbag @cocoamoonmalfoy @thatforgottenangel @parkerpeter24 @turtoix @slutforsr @givebuckyhisplumsnow @buckys-little-hoe @runawayolives @chewymoustachio @hollandsrecs @sarcasticallywitty15 @yourstrulyamour @juliediggory @lharriet03

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @holland-styles @trustfundparker @calltothewild @holland-parkers @hufflepuffprincess24 @tommysparker @justasmisunderstoodasloki @quaksonhehe @call-me-baby-gir1 @itstaskeen @theonly1outof-a-billion @lost-in-the-stars03 @justafangirlduh @piscesparker

[strangeinternetwasteland]

Finding Home- Dabi x Fem! Reader

This is my submission for Day 6 Places of @konoblog-simps server collab

Warning: Angst, Lots of Fluff, Soft Dabi

WC:2k

Leaving everything behind was the best decision he’d ever made. He was finally free, especially after emptying the bank account his father had for him. Nothing was holding him back. The few days after the big fight the anger was still there. It didn’t come to any physical blow but felt as if there had been. There was no looking back now, he will no longer be the unwanted son. He could change his name, his personality, and his whole story. He could be the person he truly wanted to be.

His first destination was the small city of Takayama in the Gifu Prefecture. The city always held a special appeal to him since it was known for the olden style of Japanese Culture. Something he’d always been interested in since a young boy. He stayed at the Hida Takayama Hostel for a few days. On the last night, he decided to stay at the Takayama Ouan with its breathtaking view of the city. It was here where the two of you met. Both of you spent your time talking about your future dreams and plans, and just enjoyed one another’s company.

The next morning he was planning on moving to a small picturesque town in the southern islands of Japan. ‘It was the perfect beginning to his new life.’ he told you. You decided to join him before continuing your next adventure. Here, the two of you spent two days watching the perfect sunsets the beach was named after. Most people didn’t pay any attention to you both assuming you were lovers lost in the moment.

You two exchanged numbers, in case your paths were fated to cross again. He left for Singapore, and you to South Korea. The few days spent with you left a wonderful impression on Dabi. The following days since Japan Dabi couldn’t stop thinking of you. The way your face lit up when talking about something you were passionate about, or the way you giggled when you were excited. It was those honest and earnest emotions from you he truly enjoyed. The memories helped him on the long and tedious train ride from Singapore through Malaysia. He got off a few times to get food or walk around.

Every stop he thought of calling or texting but restrained himself from doing so. He didn’t want to seem needy or clingy. A week later, when he was staying at a little hostel in Kluang in Malaysia, sipping on the most delectable cup of coffee when his phone chimed from you. You had sent greetings and wished him well. You had traveled through Russian and sent pictures of yourself at the Kremlin. How happy you looked in your picture. He wished he would’ve just joined you at that moment. He sent back well wishes and shared that he was currently enjoying a cup of coffee, with the promise to be the first one to text next time.

As the world trek continued for him, he found himself wandering through China trying all the delicacies he had heard about as he traveled. He spent a few days looking at the pandas, walked along the Silk Road, and saw the Terracotta Army before making his way through Mongolia, and taking in the breathtaking scenery of the grasslands. From Mongolia, he headed to Russia.

When he arrived at the Kremlin in Moscow, he stood exactly where you did, and snapped an identical picture to yours. He texted it to you as soon as he took it. He wore a small smile. You had texted him you were enjoying the beautiful colors of the Grecian seas, and how delectable the food was. He promised to visit Greece as soon as he could but had wanted to visit Mumbai, India first. You smiled knowing that you weren’t truly on this trek alone.

A few weeks had passed after the last text. You decided to text him to check on him. You found out he had been to see Mumbai, and sat on the famous Konkan coast. He also went to Jaipur to try Rajasthani cuisine and the street food in New Delhi. From there he went to Greece to learn and see the architecture of Athens, see the beautiful city of Santorini and see the first university in Greece.

He currently was in Lyon, France, while you were staying in Paris. He had plans to come to Paris in a couple of days. You made plans with him to meet in three days in Paris at a little restaurant called La Maison Rose in Montmartre. You were excited to see him, to say the least. You spent that morning going through all of the clothes you packed only to choose basic black slacks and a black shirt.

When you arrived you saw Dabi sitting at a table he definitely stood out against the Pink building. Your breath caught in your throat looking at him. When he looked up he saw you smiling. You knew that most people stared at him most of the time, and he did a good job ignoring them most of the time. However, with you, he seemed to fidget under your gaze. You weren’t sure if it was because you made him uncomfortable or if he was just like that.

“Hello, Y/N.” He greeted you with a kiss on each cheek. You felt electricity run through your body.

“Hello, how have you been? How is your trip going?” You asked with excitement. The two of you shared the highs and lows of your adventures, the pictures, and every ridiculous story you could. When the day got later you and Dabi grabbed dinner and wine. The feel of the city may have gotten to you, or perhaps it was the alcohol. You took Dabi back to your room and participated in evening affairs, as two lovers would do. This continued for another week. Waking up in his arms, enjoying the Parisian life with tourist flair, and getting to know another human through scandalous endeavors, and philosophical discussions post-coitus were the highlight of your time together.

You two had not discussed what would happen afterward, but deciding to part ways was a mutual agreement. You traveled south to Portugal and Spain, and he went north to the UK, Scotland, and Ireland. Another month had passed before you two had contact. For you, it wasn’t the most wonderful of occasions, but the positive pregnancy test you held in your hand deemed the matter important enough. You hoped he would be some sort of knight in shining armor, but you didn’t put a lot of faith in it. When you reached his voicemail all hope deflated, and you abruptly ended your trip and headed home.

Two more weeks had passed, and while you were still debating on the fate of your unborn child, you wondered what Dabi was up to. After his time in Morocco, he had traveled to Johannesburg, Durban, and then Cape Town in South Africa. When he was finally able to charge his phone properly for more than an hour, he heard your voicemail. His first thought was to call back since it had been two weeks since you had left the voicemail. You didn’t leave any clues or hints to the importance of your message, but you knew he’d call when he could.

It was early when you received his phone call you were in the middle of getting ready to work. You picked it up assuming it was your mother asking you to run an errand after work for her, or your boss asking you to work another double shift today. When your eyes looked at the name on the screen, your heart stopped for a brief second. You grew more and more nervous as you brought the phone to your ear. Without thinking, you pressed the green button.

“Hello.” Dabi’s voice said on the other line. “Hello? Y/N? Can you hear me?” His voice melts your insides. You thought back to the week you spent in Paris together tangled up in one another not caring about anything else.

“Hello?” You finally said into the phone.

“Hey, I am sorry about not calling you back sooner. I haven’t been able to charge my phone properly for some time. How are you doing? How’s your trek going?” His voice seemed light and carefree with a hint of exhaustion.

“Yeah. I am good. I have been back home for about 6 weeks.” You told him as nonchalantly as you could.

“Is something wrong? Are you okay? I thought you had another two weeks left?” His voice was gentle and full of surprise.

“Actually, I have something to tell you. The reason I ended my trip so abruptly was that I found out I was pregnant.” You felt nauseated from telling him. On the other line, you heard some shouting.

“Sorry, Y/N. I have got to go, but I will call you again as soon as I can.” Dabi rushed to say before hanging up the phone. The news hit him like a ton of bricks. He couldn’t remember exactly where you said you were from. He hoped he could find you on any social media site and figure it out from there. After an hour of searching, he figured out you lived in a small town in California. He immediately booked a flight to the closest Airport and hoped that would be enough.

Three days later without any phone calls or news from Dabi, you gave up. You figured that if he really cared, he would’ve called, or at least text you. You were in the middle of your day off when you heard the doorbell ring. Your mother was home for the day and you let her answer the door. From your room, you heard a deep voice speaking with your mother, but you couldn’t make out the words.

“I am very sorry ma’am, I was hoping to find Y/N here, but it seems I have the wrong house. Have a pleasant day.” Dabi spoke and turned around to leave. You rushed down the stairs and saw him.

“Dabi!” You cried out. He lifted his head at the sound of your voice. You tore down the stairs and straight into his arms. You hugged him as hard as you possibly could. You were astonished to see him standing before you, you started to cry. He wrapped his arms around you and buried his face in your hair. He stood and let you cry. Your mom walked away to let you two have a moment. After some time, you seemed to have calmed down. Dabi got down on one knee and proposed to you. You happily agreed.

In the months following, Dabi found a full-time job and rented an apartment for the two of you and the baby. You had a small wedding with your family present. A couple of years after the baby was born and you felt more stable, you planned a vacation for the three of you. You wanted to surprise Dabi and try to reconnect him with his family. After many phone calls to his parents when he wasn’t home. The three of you made your trip back to Japan. You thought back to where it all began on that serendipitous meeting. When you arrived at the airport you were met with open arms from Dabi’s family. You learned about his life growing up and his real name, which you promised to call him only when he was in real trouble.

In a quiet moment alone, Dabi took you aside, kissed you passionately, and thanked you for bringing him home to his family. A few days later, his mother and father thanked you as well. They loved seeing him as a loving husband, and doting parent, but most importantly you brought him back to them. Now their family was whole again.

[marginalgloss]

It occurred to me recently that I haven’t posted here for about nine months, and that if you knew nothing about me except for this blog, you might think that it something of a cliffhanger that I ended it on a post about expecting the arrival of my first child. (Or perhaps that would have been an entirely fitting way to end it.) Either way: I am fine, and we are fine, and last November brought the arrival of my son Robin into my life. I have been very busy almost every day since.

There are a couple of cliches about parenting that remain indisputably true. The first is that they grow up so fast. And the second is that nothing prepares you for it. We thought we were entirely ready and pretty well informed but from his delivery onwards nothing went as planned. We thought we’d feed him when he was hungry, and we’d put him to sleep when he was tired; and change his nappies, and play with him, and love him; and what else was there to it, really?

It turns out there is a lot more to it than that. Before Robin I never realised how polarised, how strained and how political people’s feelings are about matters of childcare. We’ve ended up raising him in ways we had never previously considered, partly out of necessity, and partly out of the kind of habits that grow into paths of desire across the days. Consciously or not I judge people who do things differently, and no doubt they judge me too. In spite of the reams of available literature it turns out that for many things — perhaps even most things — there isn’t necessarily a right or a wrong way to proceed.

Here is a third cliche that turns out to be extremely valuable: every baby is different.

The question of literature is a tricky one. In search of assistance I read a few parenting manuals; some of these turned out to be better than others, but I’ve yet to find a good book about what it means to be a father. Most books aimed at new dads are of the ‘pull your socks up’ variety — the kind of thing where the author imagined it thrust upon some feckless deadbeat by a weary spouse. But, being reasonably conscientious, and looking for something with a bit more depth than a guide to how to change nappies, I’ve found most books about parenting have little of interest to say to new fathers.

Being a dad is an odd thing to write about. I’ve read and heard people talk about how new mothers ought to be proud to be joining a kind of grand universal maternal tradition, one which predates even humanity itself. (Animals surely know about babies; witness my cat Louie’s endless patience with Robin’s various attempts to pull his ears off.)

People do not generally talk about the grand traditions of fatherhood in this way. And for good reason: a lot of men today wouldn’t be happy to follow the example of their own fathers, let alone imitate the conditions of detachment and distance that defined fatherhood for centuries. I want to say that expectations of fathers today have never been higher; but this is only because for most of recorded history, we had no expectations of fathers at all. In the space of perhaps two or three generations we have gone from the idea that a father should only have to provide for a child’s upkeep (and not slap them around too much) to a very immediate understanding of dadhood as a central plank of parenthood.

Perhaps a lot of this speaks more to my own insecurities than it does to anyone else’s. Still, I feel like there’s an easy camaraderie between mothers that isn’t apparent between fathers. My wife has developed a little circle of local mums with whom she’s in constant communication, whereas the WhatsApp group we created for the fathers in our NCT group has languished in silence. I don’t really have anyone with whom to compare notes. And what would we say if I did?

The pandemic has put us in an unusual situation. Ordinarily I would have had two weeks’ paid paternity leave, plus any holiday time taken alongside that. So I took three weeks off work — but I’m still working from home every day, as I have been since March 2020. This means that instead of watching me disappear to work five days a week, my son has spent every day of his life together so far with both his parents. I don’t even know where to begin with writing about the way this has changed us; perhaps I won’t know how to talk about it until it comes to an end.

It does mean that parenting feels like it has consumed my life in ways that might not have otherwise been the case. Being at home for so long with a new baby was a remarkable opportunity, and in the early days — through winter and the Christmas lockdown — it didn’t feel like I was missing out on much. Things are a little different now. Every absence independent from my family feels like it requires a negotiation as much with myself as with anyone else. And I don’t only mean literal absences. Someone new has come into my life and they have no tolerance for anything else that might be meaningful to me. So many of the things against which I used to define myself have necessarily had to be neglected.

It goes without saying that I haven’t written much. Whatever free time I have at the moment is normally spent collapsed in an exhausted heap on the sofa, watching TV. I can count the number of books I’ve actually finished in the last eight months on one hand; I have started and set aside perhaps two dozen. I feel very remote from the person who spent several years documenting here every book he finished.

Games have fared a little better. In the early days, when I found myself with some late night hours to myself, I picked up the remastered Bioshock collection. It took me months, but I eventually finished all three: the first game is a masterpiece, the second is a very decent sequel, and the third is probably the greatest missed opportunity in all of gaming. (I ended up writing several thousands of words about the games, over the course of weeks — the only thing of substance I’ve written since Robin was born, in fact — which I since abandoned, in a fit of self-doubt and impatience with my own tortuous style.)

But I mean it when I say that the first game is a masterpiece. I had forgotten just how immensely absorbing it is — a journey into another world that’s less realistic than it is gloriously theatrical. Every time I think about it I feel like I want to replay it again. And it never really occurred to me before that Bioshock is about parenting as much as it is a picture of Objectivism in decay. It hits different now, as the kids say.

While driving over the weekend I passed the word ‘DADDY’ outlined in rich pink flowers, laid in memorial at the centre of a roundabout. It made me flinch. Every time I see that word in whatever context it seems to come with an intimation of departure. And in the same way every time I think about this game it seems laden with the feeling of a dying fall that nobody ever really seems to talk about. You play as a kind of genetically modified clone, returning home to his unwelcoming father and near-absent mother in a demented inversion of the Odysseus tale; and the only good you can do in this world is to rescue the handful of innocents left within it. You have to become a father yourself, in a sense. But your days are numbered.

The ending of the original Bioshock is often written off as a bit of a joke. You fight a deliriously incongruous final boss, and then depending on your actions through the rest of the game, you get to see one of two final sequences. In the bad ending, the denizens of Rapture somehow steal a nuclear submarine, and it’s implied that something very bad follows. But the good ending has more to it than that. You return to the surface, and it’s implied that you adopt some of the Little Sisters you rescued down there as though they were your daughters. There’s a brief montage of scenes from an assortment of lives. A graduation. A marriage. A child reaching for a parent’s hand. And then a death bed. The hands of your daughters reach out for you one last time.

After perhaps twenty hours of gameplay this sequence is perhaps less than a minute long. It feels rushed, awkward, sentimental. But as a coda, it also has the outstanding benefit of being perfectly real.

[claybefree]

Seeing as it's the twentieth anniversary, I guess I should post this again

September Third, Two Thousand and Nine

For years whenever anyone asked me when my son Henry was born I’d start to say September instead of August 25, 2001. Sunday he had his eighth birthday party at his mother’s house, and I stayed here. Most of his mother’s friends don’t care for me much. The feeling is mutual. Tonight coming home from work I started stitching what I’m about to write together in my mind and suddenly got very afraid. I thought for a moment that I was about to go get drunk, which might very likely be death for somebody like me. I was sure I was going to change direction of the truck, that I’d drive the same route I always did back then, that I would stand by the register and stare at the bottle in my hand without really knowing I where I was. I think it has to do with the weather finally changing and perhaps that Henry’s mom and I are no longer together. I sat on the porch of my little house and called a friend and told him all this. He listened and after a while I felt better, which is exactly how these things should go. When we decided we were done he told me I should go in and write all this down.

I worked on through that whole day. Most everybody else on the job had stopped and listened to each of the radios on the different floors or cried. The asshole Turks I was framing a bathroom for wouldn’t let me quit. They had tile to run. I found it made me feel better to keep going anyway. The laborers cussed me when I asked them to move so that I could use the table saw, a natural gathering spot on any job. They seemed to think I was calloused or hard-hearted and it was because I was from Tennessee. It just now occurred to me that maybe they were right.

That afternoon, when it was determined safe to walk across the bridges, most of the job, the other carpenters and trades-people, wandered home to Brooklyn or Queens. Me and the two left to close everything up had it different as we lived in Jersey. Anthony, the boss, was big and red-haired, red faced and lived in Hoboken. Duane was in charge of demolition and waste, was a little shorter and darker, and lived in Secaucus or maybe somewhere west of that I think. They squared off on each other frequently. It always reminded me of two walruses going at it on a beach.

Whenever we went out to the bar afterwards Anthony would have a Bud tall boy in each hand at all times, the waitress would come up with four for him whenever we sat down. On the job we liked to yell at each other, I once told him I was doing him a favor by giving him such an easy target, and he never missed an occasion to oblige me. Duane was a single dad, dark haired with deep sunken yet kind eyes that always seemed to have bags under them. One of the black laborers told him once he was the most Uncle Fester looking motherfucker he had ever seen. I tended to agree.

We locked the job up at four I think, humped it across the park through the smoke to the A-train. There was smoke forming a mist around the trees of central park that day. There were no flower children loitering at Yoko’s “Imagine” monument to barge through. Our thinking was to get downtown to the Path train. We had no idea that two of the stations had been destroyed. It didn’t matter, we were underground fifteen minutes before Anthony vetoed the idea. People were running wild through the stations, on the trains, everything was panic and Oh Fuck and Anthony had no intention of being underground. He had a funny look on his face that I couldn’t figure out. It wouldn't occur to me until later that the big man was very afraid.

In the years since I have always wondered why people have reacted so strongly from that day. Later we would go to war because of a something that happened one day in New York City and this has always seemed really strange to me. I guess what I mean is that I was there and never wanted to kill anybody because of it. Most of the time I just thought it was very strange and sad and mostly just very interesting. I only remember ever crying about it twice. The first time was a few months afterward, I had quit Anthony to stay home with Henry. Part of our routine was to watch Sesame Street. One day in the winter there was a skit where Elmo got very scared because of some smoke and noise that was never identified. I suppose in this case it was a nameless fear. A New York City fireman came on screen and hugged him, told him it was okay to be scared, Elmo, and that everything would be alright. I remember little red furry Elmo hugged the fireman tight. I held Henry in my lap and cried into his fine blonde hair.

It was the fireman that did it. I still get upset when I think about the firemen. I have had a lot of trouble with cops in different times in my life, but I never had a problem with any fireman I ever encountered, drunk or otherwise. They seem to me to be a different animal entirely.

Anthony, Duane and me ran into two firemen on the deck of the cruise boat that carried us across to Weehawken. They came in and collapsed on the painted metal floor, shedding boots and letting their helmets roll away. Some people applauded weakly, others asked questions, they just stared at us and said nothing. It didn’t occur to me until much later they were probably the only ones from their station who lived. Other men that for years they worked with, ate and fought with, got drunk with were dead. There was a bar I frequented in Jersey City a few blocks from our house where a couple of weeks later I saw three firemen in dress uniforms. One was between his partner on a stool and the third who was older and may have been a captain. The captain was clearly upset, swaggering and poking the other two in the chest. Everybody else was trying hard not to pay attention to what seemed about to develop into a fight. I think later I saw the old man leaning against the bar and weeping openly, he must have been sixty at least.

I got drunk in this bar Sept. 10th while my wife and kid slept back home. She’d start nursing and pass out with him and I’d head out to roam. The thing I liked about this place was the Sinatra on the jukebox, so that night I loaded it up and sat at the bar listening. I think it was the first time I’d ever heard “Summer Wind.” The tattooed brunette tending bar must have thought it was cute because she serenaded me, singing along with a couple of the songs. There was another man with a mustache further down the line who was putting the blast on her and didn’t seem to like me much so I got the fuck out early. By “early” I mean I didn’t close the place.

I won’t tell you what we saw on the boat ride across the Hudson, you’ve seen it already. We unloaded at Weehawken and everyone, thousands of high end refugees really, started walking south towards Hoboken where we had been told there were buses waiting to take us home. I noticed that even wearing boots, the three of us walked faster than the others. We were construction workers living and working around Manhattan and we were very good at walking. I remember being comforted by walking with them. Hundreds of buses lined the streets of Hoboken and the three of us walked the length of that town. Anthony broke off about halfway to head home. A couple of weeks later I showed up having laid out drunk for two days and told him I had come for my tools. He looked at me and didn’t say a word. He mailed me my check. I haven’t seen the man since.

Duane and me trudged the rest of Hoboken together. I heard that not soon after I left he was let go to cut costs and that not long after that he got into a bad time with a prostitute on rt. 1 & 9. The smoke in Hoboken was thicker than in the city and the fumes from streets filled with idling buses finally got my hangover to officially kick in. I told Duane about how I’d had “Summer Wind” playing as background music in my head all day. He laughed and began singing the song, each line perfectly. We got through the crowd easily, after hours of walking together we had finally hit a stride together. We were marching, really. There was the giant blue sky of the day broken intermittently by smoke and there was the roar of diesel noise and Hoboken and Duane singing Summer Wind to me; some punk kid from Tennessee who had no business being there.

The only other incident I remember having to cry because of some assholes who decided to fly planes into tall buildings was coming across the Manhattan bridge one night after carrying my sister-in-law home to Park Slope. She would come over most nights to hang out with the baby, and around eleven or so and in various states of sobriety I’d be asked to drive her back home. I never hated the terrorists for invoking a War of Terror, I hated them for causing enough terror that it fucked the roads up. Shit got closed for what seemed no fucking reason whatsoever. One day coming back from the pediatrician’s office, Henry got stuck howling in his car seat for four hours because the Holland Tunnel was handling too much traffic and we were too afraid to take him out of it because of the cops everywhere. My sister-in-law and I spent a lot of time in the Saturn together on the nights I drove her home. I can’t remember what we talked about, probably everything. I haven't spoken to my sister-in-law since I moved out last summer.

This particular night the Brooklyn Bridge was only operating east-bound into Brooklyn so after I dropped her off I was diverted back across the Manhattan Bridge in order to get back into the city and eventually home. The Manhattan Bridge back then was still under renovation and I guess has always been the ugly, cross-eyed cousin of the Brooklyn Bridge. I got stuck on it, moving slower than shit, and staring at trash and old faded plywood encasing the little bit of wrought iron and Neo-Classical elements that were left up by the arch. Off to the left t seemed as though the entirety of Downtown was illuminated from the work lights that were set up down by Ground Zero. Downtown glowed with lights that were set up to look for people that weren’t there anymore. The DJ on WFMU that night was playing a super slowed down cover of the B-52’s Song for a Future Generation. If you’ve heard it, you’ve probably laughed, it’s a ridiculously chirpy pop song. I’ve always loved it. The lyrics go a little like this:

Wanna be the ruler of the galaxy

Wanna be the king of the universe

Let`s meet and have a baby now

In between each stanza, the different members give spoken-word tidbits of information about themselves. For example Ricky, the original guitarist, was a Pisces and “loved computers and hot tamales.“ Ricky also died from AIDS back in 1985 when people still had no idea what the disease was.

The version I heard that night had slowed the tempo to that of a blues song. The dip-shit ironic hipster that sang it reflected this. Stuck on the bridge it felt as though I was listening to a lament. What reduced me to tears, smoking Winstons in my little Saturn station wagon, was the feeling that whatever was left of innocence had recently been or was about to be brutally murdered by pig-face, ignorant men. Wanna be the first lady of infinity. Wanna be the nicest guy on earth. Let's meet and have a baby now.

[flyawayrachel]

Sometimes when I'm having a particularly hard day excepting my lot I go back and read this little thing I wrote a few months after leaving my family to remind me that I made the right decision. Idk why I am choosing to post this today but I've never posted it anywhere before. I've never been quiet about who I am and what I came from and sometimes it's nice to just get the feelings put there.

My whole life I had never been allowed to make decisions for myself, so why now, was it up to me to make the biggest decision of my life?

What school I could attend, what major I could study, what clothes I could wear, what teachers I could take, what jobs I could have, who I could speak to, who I could be friends with, what bank I used, what hair style I had, what nickname I could go by, what music I could listen to...all these things were policed since I was born, and the first decision I got to make solo was the most world defining decision I'll ever make.

Since then I've made a lot of decisions about myself, some little and some huge, but each one comes with a hill to climb. Through this series of decisions I've come to discover a little more about myself and who I am, a long painful process of deciding for myself.

The first decision.

It was a Sunday. I was expected to attend three morning protests and church at 11:30am, my father would be giving the weekly sermon. This Sunday, however, was different. For the first time in my life, I had a separate obligation. I chose, or tried to choose, to skip church that week.

This was not my first decision as it was reviewed by my parents and shut down.

It was 7am that Sunday morning, and I jumped out of bed, got dressed, and headed to work. I had discussed the days events with my parents two nights prior, today we had a fundraiser. A local family had just lost their daughter to brain cancer, and for once in my life I felt I had the power to do good, instead of spread hate. This was a huge deal to everyone there, and the community surrounding us. I was excited. As a new business, this would be great for us. We'd learn how to handle big crowds of people, we'd all bond over the stress of the situation, we'd have a great time, and we'd be doing good. I got to the restaurant around 7:45, and jumped into work. We had a LOT to do. I was anxious, I knew I was doing something I shouldn't...or at least something my parents don't approve of. It wasn't until 9:21 I heard from them

"Are you planning to miss church today?" My father text me.

"I'm planning to make it back, but if we get people in at 11, I probably won't be able to." I replied

"OK this doesn't really work for me. You aren't at a spot in life where this should be getting asked of you and this was supposedly made clear when you joined. If they cannot respect your need to be in the Lords house you need to find other employment. We need to talk about this"

Fear. Fear was all I could feel. I cried. Knowing exactly what "We need to talk about this meant" it wouldn't be a conversation with just me and him. Or me him and my mother, it would be everyone. Every adult member of our church would sit me down, accuse me of all manner of wrong doing, scream, yell, and refuse to acknowledge anything I said and brush it off as if I was a liar. A decision they had made for me when I was not even a teenager yet. At 11 years old I had been pegged as a liar and forced into seclusion by the church all because my mother, forgetful as ever, had forgotten a conversation I had with her a few weeks prior to it all coming to light. "If they're too scared to talk to me(referring to my older brother as I) then they can't speak to anyone" an aunt of mine had said, and her word was regarded as law at that point. Months of silence on my part followed. I became solemn and bitter after that. My social skills had been destroyed and I would never get over what they'd done to me. The happy little girl was gone, and in their eyes, she never existed. I was ridiculed for years because of this change in demeanor.

I received several phone calls from my parents that morning. I answered none of them. So my mother chimed in...it was 9:57:

"It is not ok for you to miss Church today. We need to have a serious discussion today about what's going on with you."

Again the threat of intervention.

I had to go home. My boss rolled his eyes, dispite his knowledge of my situation he couldn't help but be annoyed that his second hand was leaving, right before open, on what would be our busiest day ever. When I left, there was already a line at the door. I later learned they filled the restaurant within seven minutes of opening the doors. It didn't stop until we closed that night.

My dad gave the sermon that day. It was long. Nearly double the normal length of our weekly meeting. I couldn't tell you if it was purposefully, knowing him it probably wasn't, but that didn't help my view of the situation. Once church was over, I spead down the highway back to work, it was nearly 2pm by the time I got back. It was chaos. People everywhere, we were running out of things, and the dishwashers they'd pulled to prep just couldn't keep up. I was put in charge of running prep and we prepped and prepped and prepped. Ticket times were awful and I don't think we ever got out of the weeds, even now I feel the effects of that day on our staff. I remember at one point I was apologizing to one of our cooks, who we affectionately refer to as "Mom".

"I don't know if I can stay there any more" I'd said. For the first time in my life, I'd admitted to someone that I didn't see a future for me in the church. I'd been toiling with the feeling for years, but it wasn't until early February that I'd realized that I couldn't stay. "Get through school" I'd tell myself. With two years of school left, and my whole life crumbling, I knew I wouldn't last.

"If you need a place to go, I have a spare bedroom. You're welcome there" she replied.

I was floored. Being told your whole like that the world is against you, you learn to accept that, but this woman, this mother of three, had just offered to open her door to me, no questions asked.

We closed at 8.

Once it died down I sat at the bar with my chef. The foh manager behind the bar, pouring them both drinks. I can't tell you the exact words that were spoken, what, if any, words of encouragement were given to me, but while sitting there, I made my first decision. It was time to go. I remember thinking that I needed permission from someone, anyone, to do this, but it never came. My chef never told me I should, our foh manager never told me I should, no one told me to do it. I had to decide, and decide I did.

Once I got home late that night I told my sister. I didn't tell her I would leave immediately. I just told her I couldn't stay and she was always welcome to join me when she got older. I remember telling her there are other ways and places that we can serve the Lord without being subjected to the cruel glares and sneers of those around us. We had discussed often the wrong doings of the "Elders" of our church. I thought she'd understand and maybe she did, but she was hesitant. She was only a child after all, 13 years old, but had already been through hell and back with these people.

The next day I packed. I used the pretence that I was cleaning out my room and giving a bunch of my clothes to Goodwill, an instruction my father had given me a few days prior. This came only months after my mom had my siblings strip my room of much of my belongings and furniture while I was in class one evening. Many garbage bags full of clothes with other items hidden within made their way to the car. It was hard. Making the decision on what to keep and what to leave behind. I had collected many things from many different fan bases I considered myself a part of, while much had been taken from me I still had decisions to make. A lot got left behind. It was now Monday. I didn't work Mondays so I had all day to work. At 8pm we all sat down for our evening reading. I remember choking back tears realizing this would be the last time I sat in a room along side all six of my siblings and my parents in an amicable manner, still, the looming threat of these "talks" overtook me with fear. Once we were done and we'd said our evening prayer I went up to my room. I cried. I cried for the hurt I would do my dad, it was a common joke in the house that I was his favorite. His first little girl. The years I'd miss watching my baby brother grow up. The betrayal my sister would feel when she woke up the next morning. Knowing that in the following weeks every inkling of my existence would be stripped from the house, I still wonder what became of my old bedroom. Did my sister take it like she'd joked about when I would tell her I was dying from a migraine or dealing with a particularly hard day at work? Would my mom take it and use it as an office or spare bedroom for when my dad snored too loud as she often did when I would sleep over at my cousin Vicky's house?

My mom left the house at 4:30am. I was awake before she left. Silently selecting the last few items I would take with me. I wrote two notes. One of apology to my sister for leaving her here in a cave full of wolves. One to my dad, asking to be left alone and explaining that there had been irreparable damage done by other members of the church and that I did not believe their doctrine. I wrap my house key, pink and bedazzled with fake diamonds because my dad picked it out and never really got who I was back then, and copy of their credit card in it and stuck it in his cubby before walking out the door, tears still wet on the paper from when I wrote it. I only had one chance, as all windows and doors on our house sent chimes throughout the 10 bedroom, 6 bathroom, three kitchen home when opened. I got in my car, contemplated my decision one last time, and I left.

I sat at my job for hours alone, drinking ginger ale and eating sourdough bread. Wishing the nausea would go away. Not long after getting there I received a message from my dad. He would not ask me to come home, but extended the invitation to talk if I thought it would solve the problem and I could continue living under their rule. Reiterating the fact that they would not be changing for me. If I left I was going to be on my own. I spent the morning crying as I went about directing prep work for the week, we had a lot to recover from and my personal turmoil couldn't distract me from my work. Hours later my mom showed up. It was on the way home from the early morning yoga class she had taught, which is why she left the house so early. I couldn't recount the exact words said because I was to distracted by the way she was speaking to me. I was a stranger now. She's a lawyer and treated me like a client, taking notes as we spoke with no regard to my emotions or well being. She'd always counted the days to my 18th birthday, the only hope she'd rid me from her life forever. This was her chance.

The months following were hard. I had a lot of decisions to make and no one to guide me. The people who swore to make it easier only made it harder, but I bonded with the least expected people, some of which continue to be my greatest friends even to today. It was a decision that I don't regret, not even on the hardest days, the days I mourn the time lost with my loved ones and the very real possibility they'll never come back to me. The nights I sit up scrounging the internet for any glimpse into their current lives, or when I read people's"hot takes" about who they think they are, often getting it wrong and seeing my family as a one dimensional group of haters. I've made the decision to me myself and it's a decision I'll stand by until the day I die, eternity be damned.

[queenxxxsupreme]

Marks on the Boss

A/N: I am super bad at naming this shit This was requested by

Warnings: implied smut, hickies/love bites

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: Prentiss sees Hotch has some love bites on his neck....

It was early in the morning. The BAU team was slowly walking in through the doors one by one. The only ones in the bullpen were Morgan, Reid, and JJ.

"I can't stand the smell of lavender." Morgan shook his head.

"Lavender? You don't like lavender?" JJ couldn't believe what she was hearing. "How could you not like lavender?"

"I just don't." Morgan shrugged his broad shoulders. "Never have."

"Lavender works as an anxiolytic to increase relaxation and helps you sleep." Reid pointed out. "It interacts with the neurotransmitter GABA to help the brain calm down and quiet nervous system activity."

"That why I use it for Henry." JJ nodded her head.

The three profilers watched as you and Prentiss walked into the bullpen and went to your desks.

"Good morning, guys!" You chirped, setting your bag down on your desk before you went to join their little group. "What're we talking about?"

"Uh, smells." JJ answered with a little laugh.

"Ones we like or don't like?" Prentiss leaned against Reid's desk while you leaned against Morgan's next to JJ.

"Take your pick." Morgan replied.

"Ooh!" Your eyes got really big for a second as you thought of what to say. "Garcia has this really nice plug in air-freshner in her cave that smells like fireball."

"I think us non-alcoholics call that cinnamon, Y/L/N." Rossi spoke as he passed the team.

"I'm not an alcoholic!" You mockingly gasped. He grinned.

"Is Hotch in yet?" He asked over his shoulder. You stayed silent, knowing very well he wasn't. But you'd just arrived. Answering his question would make you look suspicious.

"Haven't seen him." Morgan shook his head. "Which is a little weird. He's usually here first."

"Guys!" Garcia called from the doorway of the roundtable room. "We've got a nasty one."

"I don't like the smell of cinnamon." Reid scrunched his nose up as all of you started to move towards the roundtable room. "It's too.... spicy." You laugh softly at his choice of words.

***

Shortly after everyone got settled around the table, Hotch showed up.

"Sorry I'm late, everyone." He moved to take his seat at the end of the table towards the back of the room. You very briefly met his gaze but it didn't linger for long. You diverted your eyes down to the tablet in front of you. "Go ahead when you're ready, Garcia."

Prentiss was the first to see them. There was one dark mark just under his right ear, then another little further down on his neck. Hotch could feel her eyes on him. He glanced up and met her gaze. She quickly looked down at the notes in her hands.

"Is something wrong, Prentiss?"

"No, sir." She answered a little too quickly. You peeked up through your lashes to see what she was looking at. Your heart dropped at the sight of the markings you'd left on him. You both agreed no visible marks. However, last night you must've gotten carried away.

You stood up suddenly, catching everyone's attention.

"I-I need to use the, uh, the restroom." You hastily made your way towards the door. Smooth on, Y/N. As you walked to the bathrooms, you pulled your phone out to text him.

To: Aaron Hotchner <"She saw the bite marks on your neck.">

You gripped your phone tightly in hand. The door to the bathroom was pushed open. You slipped into the restroom and went to lean against the counter. A few moments later, your phone silently buzzed.

From: Aaron Hotchner <"What bite marks?">

You bit your bottom lip.

To: Aaron Hotchner <"The ones I gave you last night.">

A few more minutes pasted before you decided it would be wise to go back to the roundtable room. You didn't want to seem suspicious.

Just as you were walking out of the bathroom, someone grabbed your arm and pushed you against the wall just beside the door. You were ready to fight whoever it was until you saw that it was Hotch.

"Hi." You smiled innocently up at him.

"How the hell are we going to hide this from them?" He was stressing out about it. Of course he was. He always had something to stress out over.

"If they ask, just tell them you were with someone last night." You shrugged your shoulders. "You don't have to tell them who."

Hotch sighed through his nose and looked down the hall to ensure you two were still alone. You reached up to straighten his tie, even though it didn't need it.

"Aaron, I'm sorry." You apologized quietly. "I'll be more careful next time."

"It's unprofessional." He muttered, bringing his eyes back down to you. There was a little something in those icy blue orbs you adored so much. He liked the marks. He wasn't upset like you thought.

"Yeah?" You raised your brows. "Well you know what else is unprofessional?"

"What?"

"Me kissing my boss." Your fingers curled around the lapels of his suit jacket and pulled him down so you could steal a kiss from him. His hands found your waist, his long and slender fingers almost making you laugh. But he didn’t allow the moment to last long. He pulled away and stepped back, straightened his jacket-which you had messed up-and running his fingers through his hair. 

“Is it really that noticeable?” He turned his head a little and reached up to rub where he thought the marks were. You bit you bottom lip, secretly admiring the marks you made on him. 

“I can fix it. Go into the men’s bathroom. I’ll be in in a moment.” You turned to go back to the bullpen but he stopped you.

“Where are you going?”

“To get my makeup bag out of my go-bag.”

***

“Aaron, hold still.”

“Y/N, I don’t like this.”

“Then we can finally tell the team.” You perked up, only for him to shake his head and mutter a ‘no’ under his breath. “I’m almost done, Aaron.”

After mixing your foundation with moisturizer, you got the correct color to match his neck. Then you proceeded to add the foundation to the markings on his neck but this was easier said than done. Who knew Aaron Hotchner was such a baby?

“I don’t like the way it feels.”

“Oh please.” You rolled your eyes at him. “You can’t feel it.”

“Yes I can.” He countered. 

“There.” You wiped the remaining foundation off on a paper towel and admired your handy work. 

“And what about Prentiss?”

“She can keep a secret. I trust her.”

He let out a sigh and looked back to the mirror.

“Next time, keep the love bites off my neck.”

“Oh, I’ll try to remember that one, Agent Hotchner.” You rolled your eyes again, a smirk playing on your lips, and started to walk away.

“Agent Y/L/N?”

You turned on your heels to face your boss slash boyfriend. 

“Don’t roll your eyes at me.”

You grinned a little, feeling warmth stir in the pit of your stomach. You bit your lip for a moment and taking in the peace and quiet. It wasn’t often that you two got to be like this during the day, to be carefree and let loose. 

“Yes, sir, Agent Hotchner. I’ll see you on the jet, sir.”

***

"Hey, Emily.” You smiled to Prentiss as you sat down across from her. She was sitting by herself towards the back of the jet. Morgan had been with her but he left just a few moments before you took his seat. 

“Hey, Y/N.” She greeted you. You glanced over your shoulder to Hotch, who sat towards the front of the jet facing. He was with JJ and Rossi going over the case. 

“Um, I wanted to talk to you about-,”

“Shut. Up!” She cut you off, a big grin crossing her lips. “No way.”

“What?” The smile fell from your lips. “No way what?”

She deadpanned and raised her eyebrows.

“I wasn’t born yesterday, Y/N. Hotch has hickies on his neck-,”

“Shh!” You hushed her, reaching across to put your hand over her mouth. “Emily, I’m telling you this because I trust you.”

“How long?” Prentiss leaned forward in her seat, now completely captivated by the conversation. 

“A few months.” You smiled shyly. “But we aren’t just messing around, Em. We’re serious.”

“Ah, Ms. Y/N has a boyfriend?” Morgan nudged your arm with his hand, wanting you to scoot over a seat so he wouldn’t have to climb over you. You opened your mouth to speak but no sound came out. What the hell were you going to say?

“She was telling me about this guy that just moved in next door. Things are getting serious pretty quick.” Prentiss spoke quick, almost too quick. She looked to you, her eyes widening just slightly as if to signal you to say something. 

“Is that a bad thing?” You looked to Morgan.

“How long have you known him?”

“Couple weeks.” You blurted out with a shrug of your shoulders.

“I guess it depends on how you feel, kiddo.” He reached over to ruffle your hair but you took the chance to elbow him in the ribs. You hated when he did that. “Good one. Y/L/N.”

You settled back into your seat, stuck there for a while longer now that Morgan had taken the aisle seat. You looked out the window, watching the clouds below pass by. Your phone buzzed in your hand. 

From: Aaron Hotchner <”I’d love to meet his boyfriend of yours.”>

You peeked over your shoulder between your seat and Morgan’s to see Hotch looking at you, a little grin on his lips. 

[verai-marcel]

This Is Perfection (RDR2 Fanfic, Javier x F!Reader, Biker AU, 18+)

This is part of the series Ride Through My Heart. Read the other parts here.

Summary: You are an intern at a photography studio, and lately you've been crushing on the male model that works with your boss. Javier is sex on legs and your eyes are drawn to him every time he's near. On top of his looks, he's also kind and funny, which made you doubly fall for him. Little did you know, he's had his eye on you too, for he knows your secret identity: a semi-popular cosplayer on the convention circuit. 

Author’s Notes: Trying another Javier x F!Reader fic because he deserves love too. The title of this fic is yet another obscure lyric from a popular song, so try and guess! Also I’m not in the photography or modelling industry, so most of that stuff is just conjecture and internet research.

Tags: fluff, romance, gentle to passionate to rough sex, mild dirty talk, neck grabbing (but no choking), some use of a different language

AO3 Link is here, sweetheart.

Word Count: 4457

--------------------

“See you next week, Javier.”

“Later Charles,” Javier threw over his shoulder as he left Charles’ cat café. He finished his latte, jaywalking across the two lane road to get to his bike. Bright red, his Ducati Streetfighter was his prized possession, his baby, his joy. When he wasn’t working, he loved to take his motorcycle to the nearby lake and ride around the backroads, enjoying the scenery.

But lately, he had no excuse to go out. He felt he had overbooked himself this month, running from one photo shoot to another. He had to sleep, had to eat properly and work out so that he looked his best, and that cut out practically all of his free time. Feeling the stress steadily creep up his spine and into his brain, his only breaks were his weekly meetings with his friends, which he could count as business since he was their marketing manager. Self-appointed, of course.

He only left Sunday for himself, which he had been using for personal and wardrobe maintenance. Javier was nothing if not meticulous about his look. He had to be, when it was the product he was selling. But lately, even his Sundays were being booked with side jobs. 

He chucked the empty latte cup into the trash and got onto his bike. It was Sunday morning and he had once again broken his rule and picked up an extra gig at the beach by the lake. He almost hadn't taken the job, except that there was a lady working today that he absolutely wanted to see. 

***

You were sitting inside a minivan with the sliding door open, cords coming out of your laptop and hooked up to a power strip, connected to an orange extension cord that was coming out of the visitor’s center. Your boss was testing shots by the new mural that had been painted on the retaining wall next to the beach. You had helped her set up most of the lighting gear already, so at this point, the two of you were just waiting for the model to arrive. While you had wanted to spend the weekend touching up your costumes for the convention next week, you also needed the extra money. It had nothing to do with that fact that the model for today was none other than the delightful (and very sexy) Javier Escuella.

Ever since you had started working with this modeling & photography company, you had done a lot of random work that wasn’t really related to your college degree. However, you learned a lot about the profession and discovered that the thing you really loved more than photography itself was the photo-editing.

While you were editing some of your personal photos, you heard the sound of a motorcycle pulling up. Looking over at the source of the sound, you watched as Javier pulled his helmet off his head and shook his hair out. As he took off his bandana and biker jacket, you made a mental note to remember this moment forever, his biceps revealed, his sleeveless shirt wrapped around his torso like a lover.

Then he looked at you and grinned. He had caught you staring. Again.

How many times in the past three months since he started to work with your company had he caught you staring? And how many times had he just grinned at you, knowing he had caught you? 

Too many. Didn't he think you were a creep? And yet he still smiled. 

“Hey you,” Javier said smoothly as he walked over to you, the slight sway to his hips taunting you. He was a natural-born model, his movement graceful as a cat and his charisma amplified by his seductive smile. Taking a seat next to you, the space between you two barely a hair’s breadth apart, he leaned over to look at your screen. “What are you working on?”

You quickly tried to shut the laptop, but just as quickly he stayed your hand. His hand was bigger than yours, encompassing and warm. His fingers, wrapped around yours, gently moved the laptop screen back up, and you couldn’t stop him, so enraptured by his touch.

Apprehensively you watched him as he looked at your latest shots of you in your almost completed costume. You swallowed. Maybe he wouldn’t recognize you? After all, you had your glasses on, a big beanie over your hair, and an oversized sweater. Your photo had so much more makeup on and a wig, perhaps he wouldn’t—

“Oh, I know this Insta account.”

You paled.

“I’m a big fan.”

"I'm editing for a friend–" 

"Don't lie," he said softly. "I can tell it's you. I've known since I started working with you."

You squeaked. 

He turned his blazingly glorious smile onto you, and you felt like the sun was shining straight into your eyes. While you were reeling from his admission, he continued to talk to you.  

"You're going to that big convention next weekend, right?" 

You nodded. 

"Can I come?"

Shrugging as you tried to play it cool despite the slight tremor in your voice, you replied, "I'm not sure if tickets are still available, but I wouldn't stop you."

He leaned in a little closer. "What if I told you I already had a ticket?"

You gulped. "Re-really?" 

Nodding, he stood up, giving you room to breathe. "I may not look like it, but I enjoy comics too."

Noticing that your boss was starting to head over, you quickly said, "please don't tell my boss about this. I don't want her to think I'm slacking or anything."

Javier smiled and winked at you. "Of course. Your secret is safe with me." He leaned down to look at you in the eyes, and you were mesmerized for a moment from the intensity. "Just promise me I get a photo shoot with you at the con."

You nodded, your head moving so fast that your glasses dipped down your nose. 

He laughed as he casually reached down and moved your glasses back up, his fingers brushing against your temples.

"Then it's a date," he said as he walked away to greet your boss. 

Grabbing your laptop and pulling it off the charger, you followed as they went to the shooting location, your heart pounding a million miles a second. 

***

After the photo shoot, Javier traded his phone number with the lovely lady who had been the subject of his heated dreams as of late. He hadn't wanted to scare her; she always seemed so jumpy when he approached. But he always noticed the way she stared at him before he caught her eyes. The look she gave him was pure woman, and he craved more. 

It wasn't just the looks that brought her to his attention. He started following her Instagram account a year ago when he was looking at last year's masquerade winners. Her smile, her energy, and her creativity drew him in. He had found himself liking all of her posts in a day, scrolling endlessly through her archive. 

So when she had shown up at one of his photo shoots three months ago, he had been delighted. But she seemed shy and even denied that she had an Instagram account when he had asked her. He was even more surprised to find that she wasn't a model, but the photographer's intern. 

At that time, he had let it go. She was clearly hiding it, clearly didn't want to draw attention to herself. But every time he got to work with her, he felt frustrated that she hid herself so carefully behind her wide rimmed glasses and oversized hoodies. Her cosplay photos were amazing, her smile brilliant, her makeup impeccable, her costumes were bold and full of color combinations that seduced his vision. 

At the same time, having her hidden away made him feel a bit better about her safety. What kind of wolves would go after her if they knew how gorgeous she was under her baggy clothes? 

As he slowly got to know her, his affection for her had only grown. With each job, he talked with her more and more, and she had opened up to him. While they hadn't traded phone numbers until now, he could say with a certain level of confidence that they were on good terms. Almost friends, really. 

He couldn't wait for next week. He had gotten his Comic-Con ticket months ago and had been preparing on his own. Javier grinned under his helmet. 

She was going to be so surprised to see him. 

***

"Thanks for working today. I'll see you tomorrow."

"No problem, see ya later!" 

Your boss waved as she went to her car and drove off. The two of you had dropped the company van back at the office, so now you had the rest of the day to yourself. 

Getting into your car, you started it up, put your favorite music on… 

And you promptly screamed in both excitement and anxiousness. You had a date with Javier. You. Had a date. With Javier. 

You drove home, got to your apartment, and started working feverishly on the rest of your costume. 

Next weekend had to be perfect. 

***

You finished your make up and looked at yourself in the mirror. You had arrived at the convention center early and started getting ready in the bathroom as other cosplayers had begun to trickle in. For everything else in your life, you were unsure of yourself, constantly second guessing your choices and worrying if you were, in fact, wrong about everything.

But in this space, you felt strong. Confident. Because, despite the occasional hater in your comments, the majority of your feedback was positive. Besides, you were someone else when you put on your outfit. You were Star.Bright.909, a cosplayer with over a thousand followers. Not as many compared to the big name cosplayers, but you were proud of yourself for getting this far.

So when you came out of the restroom looking your best, the few gasps you heard were worth it. As you walked outside towards the photography area that had been set aside for cosplayers, you already had five people asking to take photos of you.

You smiled and posed and thanked everyone who wanted to take a photo. You were gracious and patient, even though you were trying to meet up with some photographers you had spoken with online. When you reached the small plaza, you met up with them and worked for the rest of the morning, posing as the photographers asked and networking with other cosplayers in the area. 

Just as you were about to head off towards the lobby to check out the dealer's hall, a man walking through the crowd caught your attention. Dressed up in a skin tight lycra Spiderman outfit, you could tell immediately that his muscles were real. The way he moved was smooth, graceful, and awfully familiar, despite not seeing his face. 

Wait. 

It couldn't. 

As he came closer to you, he bowed in a gentlemanly fashion and held out his hand. 

"Hola, mi Estrella."

You squeaked. "Javier?" 

"Just your friendly neighborhood Spiderman," he said, a teasing lilt to his voice. "Perhaps we could take a photo together?" 

"Of course," you said, suddenly shy. A professional model wanted to take a photo with you. Granted, you knew Javier, but he was still a pro, while you were an amateur. 

"Do you mind if I put my arm around you?" he asked politely. 

"That’s fine," you said, your face warming. 

He nodded and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close for the photo. You grinned, channeling your happiness into your smile. Holding up the phone for a selfie, Javier took a few shots before taking a look at them to check their quality.

He still hadn't let go of you. 

"Whoops, sorry," he said, finally letting go. 

"It's okay," you quickly said. "I… I didn't mind."

He looked at you, but his mask prevented you from seeing his expression. 

"Are you free now?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm free for the rest of the day." You had worked yesterday and some of today, but you always left the last half-day of any convention for shopping or panels. 

Javier held out his hand and you gladly took it, letting him walk you back to the entrance of the convention center. 

As the two of you walked past one of the hotels that lined the plaza, you saw the laces of one of your boots hit the ground. 

"Hold on," you said as you stepped off the main path to tie it back. 

Then you felt the splash of liquid come down on your head, the smell of alcohol pungent and seeping into your wig.

For a moment you were shocked. Then the overwhelming sense of frustration hit you and all you could do was stay still and will yourself not to cry. Not in front of Javier. 

Warm hands touched your wet shoulders. 

"Sweetie. Come on, let's get you changed. Can I escort you to your hotel room?"

You looked up at him, at his compassionate eyes, and you shook your head. “I drove here this morning.” You had driven here from your apartment, an hour away.

“Oh. I see.” He took your hand and began to lead you down the road, away from the convention center. 

"Where are we going?" 

"My hotel room, if that’s alright. Or would you rather go back to the convention hall?"

“You got a room?” you said in surprise. 

He shrugged. “I have other business in the city tomorrow morning, figured it’d be easier to spend the night.”

“Oh, okay,” you said, unsure of what else to say. 

“So… are you okay coming with me? I won’t do anything, I promise.”

“Yeah, let’s go.” You put your hand on his arm. “I trust you, Javier.”

He nodded and continued to walk with you. He was taking you to his bedroom. No ulterior motives, he just wanted to help you get clean.

But part of you really wished he had some ulterior motives.

***

“I’ll get you some extra clothes from my backpack,” Javier called out to you as he left you to clean up in the bathroom on your own.

You stared in the mirror; your make up was ruined, your wig would need an extreme clean up when you got home, and your costume was stained and reeked of alcohol. As you took off everything and tried to rinse out what you could in the sink, you counted yourself lucky that this had happened at the end of the convention rather than the beginning. At least you had all of your shots and you could maybe sell a few prints to make some of your cash back.

You showered and dried your hair as quickly as you could, not wanting to take up more of Javier’s time. He had left a shirt and shorts in front of the bathroom door for you, and you opened the door a crack to pull them inside, throwing them on. They were a bit loose on you, but that was a welcome relief, compared to the skin tight costume you had on earlier.

“Alright, I’m good,” you said as you exited the bathroom. Javier was lying on the bed, his legs still on the floor. His costume was unzipped to expose his torso, his arms up in the air as he was typing on his phone. Turning his head to you, he gave you a lazy grin before patting the bed next to him. 

“Have a seat, I’m just finishing this post for Insta.”

You sat next to him and took in his body from up close. His abs were perfect; you wanted to run your hands down them to see how they’d feel under your fingers. He was lean, tanned, muscles, everything you lusted after.

“What do you think?”

You quickly looked up at him, as if he hadn’t just caught you staring at his body. He was holding out his phone, a picture of the two of you with your costumes. The caption said, Found my favorite cosplayer today! She graciously took a selfie with me, isn’t she wonderful?

You felt warm from his kind words. “You’re too nice to me,” you mumbled.

Javier laughed softly and sat up. “I like being nice to you.” He posted the photo and put his phone down. Turning towards you, he reached up and stroked your face with the back of his knuckles. “I just… like you.”

You swallowed. The fact that he was saying that now, with you wearing baggy clothes, your make-up gone, just being your unglamorous self, meant so much that you started to tear up.

“Did I say the wrong thing?”

“No,” you said between tears. “I like you too.”

He started to lean in for a kiss before he stopped. “May I?”

“You can do whatever you want to me,” you said without thinking.

A moment passed, his deep brown eyes searching yours. “Anything?” he finally said.

You nodded. Time to own up to your words, to your feelings that you had been denying for so long. “Yes.”

“Well, I’d rather do whatever we want with each other,” he said, smiling gently.

You leaned in and kissed him, surprising him and surprising yourself. Your hands rested on his chest and you gave in, exploring his toned body, his skin underneath your fingers, feeling warm and inviting to your touch. He pulled you into his arms and kissed you back, a passionate inhalation of your very spirit, as if he wanted to merge his soul with yours.

Soon he pressed you down against the mattress and kissed you for a few moments more before he pulled away. “Wait here for a few, I’m going to shower so I don’t smell like sweat and spandex. You deserve better than that.”

You laughed as he kissed your cheek and went to shower. 

Laying on the bed, staring at the ceiling, you managed to find your brain again. You, and he, were about to…

Your brain left again and you just grew warm between your legs. You wanted him so much.

In a daze, you didn't notice the sound of the shower turning off. You didn't notice the door open and close. You only noticed when he came back to the bed, wearing just a towel around his waist, smiling down at you. The tendrils of his black hair clung to his cheeks, still damp from the shower, as drops of water slid down his neck to his chest, drawing a line you desperately wanted to trace with your tongue. As your eyes moved lower, you noticed his towel wasn’t exactly hiding his desire for you.

"I've wanted you for so long, querida," he said, his voice like fingertips gliding down your spine as he stepped to the foot of the bed. Taking off your shirt and throwing it aside, he grabbed your breasts and kissed them, laving each nipple with his tongue before pinching and teasing you with his dexterous fingers until you were a writhing mess. You could feel your panties being soaked by your desire, and you shifted your legs, wanting to remove them.

Your movement attracted his attention, and he looked down at you. Reaching down to pull at the waistband of your (his) shorts, he pulled them off, revealing your beige panties.

“Aw, I thought you would have gone commando,” he teased as he tugged your underwear down your legs, his fingers caressing you along the way.

“They weren’t soaked with alcohol,” you mumbled.

“They’re soaked now,” he said with a cocky grin, tossing them aside. Then he placed a hand at each of your knees and spread your legs open, revealing your most intimate body parts to him. Licking his lips, he knelt down and pulled your hips to the edge of the bed. 

The moment Javier’s tongue brushed against your core, you nearly came. He was hungry, so hungry, and ate you out like a man starved. With one hand he held you down, his fingers splayed out on your stomach and occasionally digging into your soft flesh while he slipped one finger inside of you, stretching you out slowly.

“Let me hear what I’m doing to you, baby,” he said before diving back in.

“Y-you’re, making me, feel really, good,” you managed to say between sharp intakes of breath.

“Bien, bien,” he praised, petting your belly. “Come on my tongue, querida, I want to taste your happiness.”

With that command, he slipped another finger inside of you and sucked hard on your center, his eyes on you as he drove your body into a heated frenzy, barely able to hold you down as you keened. Your hips undulated out of your control as the spiral unraveled and you let go, euphoria zipping up and down your body. You cried out wordlessly as you peaked and then fell, landing in a fluffy cloud of afterglow.

“Oh my god, Javier,” you breathed. “That was amazing.”

“Who said we were done?”

You lifted your head up just in time to see his teasing grin as he stood up.

And he dropped his towel.

Your lust went through the roof; you were so ready for round two.

His hands on your knees, he pushed them up to your shoulders.

“Hold your legs open for me.”

You willingly obeyed.

Javier cupped your cheek and leaned down to kiss you, the taste of your release still lingering on his lips. You felt him nudge you open, his length sliding inside of you as the two of you shared a moan, swallowed up by each other’s kiss.

He continued to kiss you as he slowly pressed forward until his hips were flush with yours.

“You feel like heaven,” he said as he leaned back so that he was standing over you, his cock deep inside of you, your hips barely on the edge of the bed. He gripped your waist, his hands warm in contrast to the cool hotel air. Slowly sliding out of you until only the tip of him remained, the only warning you got was the feel of his fingers digging into you before he slammed back into you.

“Oh my god!” you yelped.

“Too much?” he asked, looking a little worried.

“Keep going, please,” you begged. “I want it hard!”

“Oh yes,” he moaned before going all out, letting loose all of his lust for you as he fucked you in a frenzy. He fell upon you, crushing you into the mattress as he wrapped a hand around your neck. “Like this, baby?”

“Yes!” you breathed out, your voice cracking. “More, more!”

Javier’s eyes lit up as he pulled out of you and picked you up effortlessly, tossing you into the center of the bed and rolling you onto your stomach before climbing up onto the bed. You felt his length sliding along the curve of your ass before he lifted your hips up slightly and mounted you from behind, moaning softly.

“You’re perfecto,” he whispered into your ear when he covered you with his body and began to fuck you from behind, his hand wrapping around your neck again. You could feel the brush of his hair along your skin as he rutted into you, his deep sounds of pleasure echoing in your ears.

His long fingers found their way to your clit. One stroke and you flinched, still sensitive from your last climax. He didn’t show you any mercy; the hand around your neck tightened, his legs trapped yours in place, and his fingers found your core once again, stroking you oh so perfectly. The pressure from his touch was just right, the feel of his breath against your ear as he slipped into another language to tell you how much he coveted you.

Javier’s head pressed against your temple. “Give me everything, baby. I want you so much.”

His words, his touch, his absolute possession of your body made your release so much stronger this time around. You cried out his name as pure pleasure rocketed through your bloodstream, a high better than any drug. His hips kept pumping as you spasmed beneath him, wringing out every last gasp and moan from you until you were shaking with the aftershocks.

“Let me make a mess of you,” he growled.

“Yes, please,” you said mindlessly, willing to do whatever he asked. 

He pulled out of you and rolled you onto your back. Straddling your waist, he took your hand and wrapped it around his cock. You stroked him rapidly, watching his eyes burn with ecstasy, his breathing grow heavier as he reached his peak. Reaching for his balls with his other hand, you fondled him gently, looking up at him with a smile.

That flipped a switch, as he reached for your neck again, his other hand wrapping around yours to apply more pressure to his cock as he came, spilling himself all over your breasts. He moaned your name as he finished, looking at you in complete awe.

“Fuck,” he breathed, letting go of your neck and hand as he fell to one side and rolled to face you. “I haven’t come like that in forever.”

Looking at his satisfied face, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was just a one time deal or if this was the start of something, you weren’t sure what.

You must have looked concerned, because he frowned, his brow wrinkled with concern. “What’s on your mind?”

“Um, I… never mind,” you quickly said, deciding not to voice your thoughts.

He leaned in, placed both his hands on your cheeks, and squished your face a little. “Please tell me.”

With his gaze so intensely close to you, you spoke without filtering. “Is this a one time deal? Or can we be… something more?”

He stopped squishing your cheeks, but he kept his hands on your face. Kissing your forehead, then your nose, then your lips, he smiled at you. “I want something more. Do you?”

You nodded enthusiastically.

“So let’s try."

You couldn't help the grin that broke out on your face. 

"That's the smile I fell for," he said, smiling back. As he tried to pull you close, you pushed on his chest. 

"I'm sticky."

Javier just laughed. "Let's take a shower then." He cupped your cheek and kissed you again, his lips lingering on yours before he pulled back to gaze into your eyes. The way he looked at you pulled at your heart, while his next words made you happier than you had ever been. 

"You're the brightest star in my life."

-------------------

End Notes: A bit on the nose, but the lyric is from Hips Don’t Lie by Shakira. Hope you enjoyed this story! One more left in this series. I’m going to wrap it up with the last Arthur x F!Reader!

Also happy birthday to @eddescuella!!! I waited so I could post on your special day! 💖💖💖

[paodequeijofeliz-blog]

The Mother of My Child

Bloodbound Fanfiction (characters and main story belongs to Pixelberry Studios).

Pairing: Kamilah Sayeed and MC (Annie)

Information: this takes place after Bloodbound 3, but I made a few changes. MC is still human, she is only Turned after they have a daughter. It came from a request, so it won’t be long, probably two parts, but I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: there’s a little bit of violence in the middle, but not much.

Part 1

The Mother of My Child - Part 2 (Finale)

During the last trimester, the only strong effect pregnancy was having on Annie was making her feel sleepy all the time. If insomnia robbed her nights for almost five months, now the woman couldn’t stay awake for long, always napping around the house. She was officially on maternity leave with no date to come back. Since her bosses were actually the child’s mother and godfather, the woman had all the time in the world to rest.

The pregnancy was already seven months long, almost eight. Her exams were perfect, nothing to worry about. It all indicated a healthy kid what would be born in nine weeks. Kamilah had put together a team of doctors in case of any problems during labour, with Annie or the child. She didn’t want to leave things up to fate.

“You are unbulivabu.” The human showed up at the bedroom door, a toothbrush hanging in her mouth. “Why is there four nursis checking on me??”

 “I gave them your number, so it will be easier to monitor what you feel.” Kamilah was laying on the bed while reading another book about breast feeding.

“Ughhhhhhh” Annie went back to the bathroom to spit the toothpaste and clean her face. When turned to leave, she accidentally bumped her toe on the door. “Ouch! Shit!”

 “Is it the baby??” The Vampire was suddenly in front of her, hands grabbing the woman by the arms.

 “Gee, chill. I just hurt my toe.” She laughed, letting Kamilah take her to bed. “You see, my Nana used to say that the more we try to control destiny, the more it escape our plans.”

“Not on my watch.”

That next afternoon, things got kind of busy at Ahmanet Financial. The Vampire was getting in and out of meetings, constantly checking her phone to make sure there was no messages from her wife. Annie was probably napping again.

“Excuse me, Mrs. Sayeed. The Baron wishes to have a word.”

“Ugh. Fine. Let him in. Thank you, Paul.”

Kamilah crossed her arms, waiting for that despising figure to emerge from the door. The smell of old whiskey and cigar took over the whole office. The Baron had two men with him, but both stayed a few steps behind.

“What do you want? The Council will meet next week.” she sighed, not in the mood to deal with another ‘Priya is stealing my territory’ argument.

“Good afternoon to you. That’s why I’m here. We must vote for whoever gets to control the north part of the city. I just want to make sure you choose correctly.” The Baron had such an ugly smile.

“Is that a threat?” the Vampire’s eyes were dangerously red. “I don’t wish that territory to belong to either of you. Both proved to be incompetents in the past.”

“Are you sure this is how you want to vote?” he approached her desk with heavy steps, pulling a phone from the pocket. “You know how much that area means to me.”

“What I know is that you want to open another underground casino, when you already have one working and causing us too much trouble already. I told you to get your men under control. It’s not my problem anymore. Now get the hell out of my office before I lose my patience.”

 “Careful there. You might regret it.” The Baron turned his phone so Kamilah could see what was on the screen. “I came to negotiate. And I’m prepared.”

The Egyptian felt her own nails digging through the skin when she closed her hands in fists. “How… Dare… You…”

“You didn’t leave me a choice. Now, I will tell you exactly what I want, and you’re going to do give it to me. I’ll even leave the phone here, at your table, so you don’t lose focus.” He laughed at his own joke, sinking in one of the chairs.

Kamilah just kept a tense posture, staring at the screen where Annie was being filmed. Four of The Baron’s men were there, one of them holding a gun to her ribs. Something caught The Vampire’s attention in the scene. The way her wife was leaning back, hands roaming the belly… “You bastard, she is in labour!”

“A small setback. Focus. The faster we solve it, higher are the chances of you seeing your first child being born.”

Kamilah took a deep breath. It wouldn’t be wise to lose her temper now.

 --------------------------------------------------------------------------

 At the Penthouse

“Please, I need to sit…” Annie had tears on her eyes, only able to stand up because of a rough hand on her back. “This hurts too much, I can’t…”

“Fine. Sit on the couch. Don’t try anything stupid.” He pushed her forward, a gun still pointed at the woman.

It all happened so fast. One minute, she was asleep, taking another regular afternoon nap. Then, a man was in her room, two, three, four. Annie recognized all of them later, but the sudden view of strangers in her house made her heart speed at first. The body couldn’t take that much adrenaline all at once. When they pulled her out of bed, the woman screamed and felt a deep pain pressuring her ribs. A couple minutes afterwards, she had a liquid coming down her legs. It was too early to have the baby, and the fear this could hurt her child only made it worse.

Annie knew why they were filming her. That’s why she was holding it in as much as she could, trying hard not to cry or show too much pain. Kamilah was probably being blackmailed, and the last thing the human wanted was for her wife to lose herself in anger.

“Oh no, no, no, no, stay inside little one, wait for your mommy…” she whispered, holding the belly as contractions were getting stronger. There was this desperate wish to arch and open the legs, her own body trying to tell her what to do.

One of their cell phones started ringing. The taller man answered and gave the others a knowing signal.

“It’s your lucky day.” said the one who pointed her the gun.

All four of them disappeared behind the door. Now, alone, without a camera filming her, Annie finally screamed against a pillow, dizzy of pain. Her heart was pounding against the chest. Then, a hand touched her shoulder.

“Hey, can you hear me?” Lily was leaning in, trying to find any injuries.

“Where is she?” the woman cried, removing the pillow. It was all too much.

“I’ll take you to the hospital, Kamilah will meet us there, she’s with Adrian… Finishing some business. You know.”

Something exploded downstairs. Guns started to fire.

“I don’t care what the hell is going on in there, you tell my wife to come here NOW!”

“Girl, you need a doctor.” She tried to lift her, but Annie only slid and grabbed the couch. There was a fire in her eyes that would give Lily nightmares for months.

“KAMILAH SAYEED YOU COME UP HERE RIGHT NOW OR I’M GOING TO LOCK THIS CHILD INSIDE MY WOMB!”

All the noises suddenly stopped. No explosion, guns firing, things breaking… Just the soft sound of the elevator’s doors opening. The Egyptian didn’t have a single strand of hair out of place, although her blazer was ripped near the pocket. A woman in a white coat was following her, completely terrified.

“Finally!” Annie rested her back against the couch, squatting and screaming as pushed the baby for the first time. Her body was only covered by a thin nightdress.

“Oh goodness, get me a sterilized towel!” the doctor fell on the floor, sitting right in front of the pregnant woman.

“On it!” Lily left and came back in half a second.

“I am deeply sorry…” Kamilah started, finding her place beside Annie, but she was interrupted by a kiss. Foreheads together, their eyes met, and for a moment, it felt like the pain was slowly drifting away. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” The human smiled, arching again in another strong push.

“Is it… Going well?” Adrian hesitated, not sure what to do. They didn’t even notice him coming out of the elevator, all covered in blood. “Can I get anything?”

“Yes, warm water…” the doctor gasped at that sight, almost losing track of what was happening. “Uhm… Right… You’re almost there, just one more push. A strong one. 3…2…”

Annie’s scream was substituted by a soft crying when the baby came out. Adrian had brought the water, so the doctor could clean the child a little bit before giving it to the mothers. Him and Lily were fighting against the tears, both holding hands.

“Oh man, we have a baby!” said the younger Vampire.

“Indeed, we do.” Kamilah took the child in her arms, cradling her close to the chest. It was the smallest human being she had ever seen in her two thousand years. “Lysia.”

“We have a family.” The most perfect family Annie could ever ask for.

“Well, I’m… I’m going to clean downstairs.” Adrian wiped his tears, slowly recomposing himself.

“Thank you, brother.”

“Wait, where did you come from?” Annie was suddenly staring at the doctor she had never seen before. “You’re not my doctor.”

“Mrs. Sayeed had me at Ahmanet Financial in case an emergency happened.”

“She… Oh my god, Kamilah. You had a doctor standing there, all day long, just in case?” the woman turned to see those guilty brown eyes.

“I told you I wasn’t going to risk anything.”

“Well, you know what?” Annie frowned, pretending to be mad for a second, but her sparkling eyes were telling the truth. She was the happiest woman alive. “I am so glad you’re the mother of my child.”

Tagging: @kamilahismyqueen and @nydeiri

[x-avantgarde-x]

Let him go (part 2).

Couple: Tommy Shelby x reader.

Warnings: swearing.

__________________________

-So, is she mine?- you heard Tommy ask you. Pain coaxed both his voice and his features, and his, oh! so tired gaze was fixed over you burning with an intensity quite different from the one of just some minutes ago.

But you were paying no mind to him.

You seemed more interested in the room, which was beautifully decorated, than on whatever bullshit Thomas had to say. The furniture, made of mahogany, the enormous library and the breathtaking landscape that you could see throughout the window had you in awe. You caressed the chair you were sat at as if it was some kind of precious stone, thought to you it was. Everything on Tommy's house and the house itself was some kind of dream come true to you. And right now, indulging in your fantasies seemed to be a better idea than facing Tommy's anger.

Tommy clenched his jaw and fists tightly at your poor attempt to ignore him. A thousand thoughts were running around his mind, and his heart beat crazily because of all the emotions that he was feeling at that moment, some of them he doubted he could even name, and the last thing he needed was for you to play hard to get with him.

-(Y/N)- he spoke again. His voice was now much lower, scarily lower, his knuckles werenow white from the pressure and his heartbeat on his hears- I'll ask you just once more, and I wait for an answer- as he spoke you slowly turned your head back to him, a calm rather cold expression on your eyes -Is. She. Mine?

Tommy had emphasized each one of those words, if someone tried they would have been able to cut the tension on the room without a problem and maybe, just maybe, it was a good thing that his desk was in between you two because it was probably the only thing stopping you right now from taking the argument to the next level.

-Why would you ask me a question to which you already know the answer, Thomas? Yes, she's yours.

As soon as those words came out of your mouth you saw Tommy fly from his chair to the bar at the room, his hands meeting with a clean glass and a bottle of whiskey, to which he held to with dear life even after filling and chucking down his second glass.

-Why didn't you come back- Tommy barked with a soar voice. You face contracted and you where starting to feel truly pissed at him -I'm her father, (Y/N). I have my fucking rights.

You stood up violently pushing the -expensive- chair, which fell to the floor with a deaf sound. You stormed towards Tommy, holding your hand high as you pointed at him. -You lost every fucking right when you choose Grace over us, Tommy. So don't come here and talk to me about your fucking rights as if anything of this had been easy to me!- you felt old wounds opening up once again with each word you spoke and felt how the tears threatened to start running down your cheeks any moment now. Oh, how you hated Tommy Shelby for being able to have a such a power over you.

After leaving Tommy your life became a fucking hell. When you arrived in America you were completely alone. Your family had never liked yours and Tommy's relationship, so, at first when you told them that you had broken up and that you were now pregnant with his child they turned their backs on you. Your mother was the first one to go back to talking to you both excited about becoming a grandmother and worried about you and the baby, and it was not till you were already 4 months into your pregnancy that she did so, making everyone else slowly warm-up at a new family member that was on its way.

Thought your father would still scoff whenever he heard someone talk about the Peaky Blinders or Tommy Shelby.

Even if you had had a job since you arrived adjusting to a new life was hard, moreover for a pregnant woman. The flat you lived at wasn't glamorous. The first months living there made you feel nothing but miserable and you dreaded the moment of coming back home. It wasn't as if you came from living a luxurious life but the 50m² flat was suffocating you. You hated to spend time in the so-called living room, whose lack of space only allowed you to had a sofa, a wooden chair and a small table. The poor attempt of a kitchen made you miss so dearly the one back at Small Heath, where you used to spend so many hours sitting there with Polly and the girls, and now there's was hardly space for you to fit in. The bathroom was inhuman, it almost gave you a heart attack once you walked inside. The tiles were up, the shower tray was broken and the pipes leaked. Fixing it was almost more expensive than the flat itself. And for lats but not least the bedrooms.

There were two tiny bedrooms at that flat, one of them you hadn't even walked inside at the beginning. It was meant to be the nursery room but whenever you had attempted to open its door you heart had clenched and fallen to your stomach, pity washing over you.

Your room was no different. You believed that by now you would already be used to sleeping alone, but you were taught different the first night that you had to sleep in a bed that completely lacked Tommy's scent.

It took you quite a long time to make yourself comfortable there and even more for you to see it as your home.

Then came your work. Dealing with morning sickness as you tried to attend a customer at 8 a.m. was something you wished upon no one. Eventually, your boss decided to assign you another job in the economics department that you could work at from your house.

How many nights did you cry over your misery on Stephanie's shoulder.

Dear Stephanie, she had been your guardian angel at that hell and how much you loved her for that. When you arrived she had just been the kind-hearted and talkative girl who worked at the coffee shop at your street, who always asked you how your week had been when you passed by and eventually became the only true friend you had had in your whole life. She was the one that helped you to pay rent when it became way too much for you alone, the one that always accompanied you to the doctor's appointments, the shoulder over which you had cried yourself to sleep about everything and anything at the same time.

For God's sake! She was even the one holding your hand while you were giving fucking birth.

And, dear lord forgave you for this, the day you gave birth to your beloved Rose was without a doubt the worst day of your life.

You had been told by every doctor that had visited you how hard you should expect your labour to be, but the reality was so much worst. The main thing you could remember of it was pain. A pain that had evolved your whole being and that had lasted for about 14 hours. You could remember the hot tears that fell from your eyes throughout the whole process and the cries that filled the room long before your dear daughter had even been born. All your memories from that night were tinted in a reddish colour and it all brought back to you a faint smell of concentrated blood.

Yeah, the start of your life at America had been nothing but a living nightmare and you believed that if it hadn't been for people like Stephanie and for your baby you wouldn't have been able to keep going. And eventually, you took hold of your life once more. All that you went through those first months made you stronger than you had ever been. You no longer needed Tommy nor anyone by your side for your life not to crumble. You were now an independent woman who could take perfect care of yourself and your daughter, and who could hold the world over her shoulders.

It had been almost three years since Tommy and the life you had left behind in Birmingham had wandered around your mind. You no longer thought about coming back and you would have never had... If it hadn't been to attend your dear father's funeral.

It was meant to be nothing but a short visit. You and Stephanie had spent many hours getting everything ready. You took a ship on Tuesday at noon and to get to London on Thursday evening. Early on Friday, you and Rosie were getting off the train at Birmingham station and started the walk to your parents' house where your mom received you two with open arms and a pained expression on her face, you believed that she was being incredibly strong for having just lost the love of her life. Due to the funeral being on Saturday's evening you had spent the whole Friday walking Rosie around Small Heath, trying to keep here's far as possible from the gloomy spirit that had taken over your house.

Your three years old girl seemed fascinated with everything at the town and each of the stories you told her as the day passed by and the day of the funeral got closer. That night you slept once more on your childhood bedroom with your princess bye your side, battling to keep all the memories and emotions that being back at Small Heath brought to you out of your head.

Saturday day came and everyone at your families got dressed and ready to say your last goodbyes to your beloved dad. You, your mother and your sisters cried as if there was no tomorrow. Even Rosie and all her cousins cried at their now gone papa. Your brother was the only one who kept himself from crying, playing the tough man role that his father had taught him to be in order to make him proud wherever he now was. You gave your speeches, threw flowers at his grave and got ready to leave by the time that the church bells started to sound. You picked up Rosie from the ground and walked with her on your arms back to the house. Tomorrow you'll spend the whole day with your family, remembering old memories, cooking and eating together as you had always done when you were younger.

And by Monday’s early morning you and your baby girl would be on your way back to America. Without having seen a Peaky Blinder throughout your stay nor having had to face Tommy nor any Shelby. What you did not know was that the Saturday, while the funeral took place, Polly Shelby had spotted you between the people standing there and that later that day she had driven to her nephew's house on the outskirts of Birmingham and told him you were back I town.

That's how on Sunday's morning, while you where waiting your turn in the queue to deliver your ticket to the reviewer and get on the train, Rosie fast asleep on your arms and a heavy suitcase on your left hand, you found yourself being lead to a car by two tall men wearing those unmistakable caps and long coats. They sat you at the back of the car, without allowing you to put any resistance as they told you to get comfortable on your way to Thomas Shelby.

And now you found yourself facing your ex-lover and about to start throwing things to each other in no time.

[ducktracy]

happy birthday, frank tashlin!

today would have been frank tashlin’s 107th birthday, making him the second youngest director on the WB staff (bob clampett getting the title of youngest, born less than 3 months after tashlin) frank tashlin’s one of my favorite WB directors, and it’s a criminal shame how underrated he is!

he began his cartoonist career in 1930 working for john foster’s aesop’s fables, then briefly migrating to van beuren studios, but he seldom stayed in one place too long. bob clampett once likened him to a yo-yo, and ink and paint girl martha sigall reminiscing “here today, gone tomorrow. now you see him, now you don’t.” he joined the schlesinger gang in 1933 as an animator, even receiving a credit for buddy’s beer garden as tish tash.

during his first (out of three) stint at warner bros, he was running a comic on the side — van boring (he never says a word), a play on his former boss van beuren. leon schlesinger was particularly enamored by the comic, and wanted “a cut of it.” tash responded warmly, recounting “i said go to hell. so he fired me.”

he moved to ub iwerks’ studio in 1934, briefly working as an animator, and later moving to hal roach’s studio as a gag man. he returned to warner bros in 1936, this time as a director. jack king had just returned to disney, and a spot needed to be filled. evidently there were no harsh feelings between schlesinger and tash, as tash claimed “he was a man who thought in money terms. he never let personalities interfere too long; his wallet spoke.”

his first directed cartoon was porky’s poultry plant in 1936, also noteworthy for being the debut of composer carl stalling as well, who would stay at the studio for 22 years. tashlin started off as just a looney tunes director—tex avery was splitting the difference between looney tunes and merrie melodies, whereas friz freleng was exclusively MM. however, tash also got to indulge in the merrie melodies (a privilege his predecessor jack king never got to experience), his first being speaking of the weather in 1937, a take on the classic “books come to life” genre made popular by the harman-ising era. tashlin himself even said he idolized the duo, and modestly dismissed his own takes as “cribbing their ideas.” during his first directorial stint from 1936-1938, tash would direct 13 looney tunes and 8 merrie melodies.

tashlin departed in 1938 after an argument with studio executive henry binder, and sought refuge at disney. there, he recounts forming a union because of how terrible the pay was (he said that he earned $150 a week at warner bros, and at disney he supposed he “was the first person [in the union] making more than thirty dollars a week.” he wrote mickey and the beanstalk and was also involved in very early development of lady and the tramp.

he left disney after an argument with mr. disney himself (“i always pick the wrong people to fight with”) and headed for columbia pictures’ screen gems in 1941. in fact, he was put in charge of the studio impromptu when a “man” fired everyone but him. he hired a number of picketers during the infamous animator’s strike. he made the fox and the crow series, one of the studio’s better entires. and, once more, he was fired after a dispute with an executive.

tashlin finally returned to warner bros in 1943, taking over norm mccabe’s unit. not to say that his 1936-1938 works were bad (he has quite a few masterpieces--porky’s romance, the case of the stuttering pig, wholly smoke, cracked ice… some of his merrie melodies certainly rival tex avery’s), but his period from 1943-1946 reflects his experience and knowledge acquired from his days drifting between studios.

his first picture from his return was porky pig’s feat, one of my favorite porky/daffy cartoons and probably one of the best black and white cartoons made at the studio, if not the best. the plot is simple: porky and daffy stay at a fancy shmancy hotel, and the bill is ridiculously expensive. porky assures the manager daffy’s cashing in the check, and we see daffy gambling away (and losing) all of their money. the rest of the cartoon consists of daffy and porky attempting to save their hides and escape the hotel, but they end up being held prisoner regardless. bugs bunny also makes a cameo as another jailbird who tried (and failed) the same shtick they did.

tashlin lamented about being demoted back to the porky cartoons again: “who wants to see the damned pig, and i’m stuck with the damned pig. it takes him so long to talk.” “i hated him, i thought he was a terrible character.” he mentions envying the other directors working with bugs (only directing 2 bugs cartoons himself), how the studio worked as a hierarchy of sorts. having to work your way up to the big leagues. though his porky cartoons are fantastic, his distaste is subtly noted. (he claims that “you couldn't do anything with his body”, which i couldn’t disagree with more) daffy takes the front seat in porky pig’s feat, brother brat is dedicated exclusively to porky getting abused by a testosterone fueled baby, and swooner crooner hardly features porky to begin with (an iconic cartoon that holds the title as the only porky cartoon nominated for an academy award.) nevertheless, his cartoons are stronger than ever, growing only more powerful with his daffy entries and eventually bugs entries.

a big contributor to the success of these cartoons lies in tashlin’s filmmaking aspirations. he’d leave warner bros in 1944 (his cartoons running all the way until 1946) to go to the film business. ever since porky’s poultry plant, his eye for camera angles and cinematography has been evident, and only grown stronger since. tashlin described how his mindset aligned with his drifter attitude. if he was working on cartoons, he was thinking of film. if he was working in film, he was thinking of plays, etc.

he began as a gag writer for films featuring big names such as the marx brothers and lucille ball. he directed films all through the 50s and 60s, echoing elements he mastered in his animation: elaborate camera angles, fast pace, sight gags, plot twists, etc.

i’ve run my mouth enough, but he was a great guy who’s criminally underrated. his cartoons are hilarious, artful, clever, and just plain fun. definitely an important name in the animation business that should be much more important! i’ll get more in depth with his content once i get to his cartoons for my reviews (soon!)

to end, left to right: frank tashlin, tex avery, henry binder, leon schlesinger, ray katz, and friz freleng in 1936.

happy birthday, tish tash!

[queen-scribbles]

Curiosity Killed the Reek-Cat

...but satisfaction brought it back. 

Have roughly 3k of Brykar ft. Bry backstory. :)

---

It would come as a surprise to most people, but it was actually possible to get bored on Carrick Station. If you gave it enough time, or had no use for some--most--of the services on offer.

Both of which were currently true for Jonas Balkar. An unconventional extraction had left him stuck there until Trant could arrange acceptable transportation back to Coruscant. Jonas almost asked why he couldn’t just figure something out for himself, but there had already been a few clue this assignment was a bigger deal than it looked on the surface. So he nodded, and agreed to wait for whatever his boss considered “acceptable” transportation.

It was taking long enough he was most definitely starting to get bored. It might’ve helped if he was free to move between the ships--particularly the Gav Daragon; there was a whole museum there(granted, Jonas would likely be more interested in the people visiting the museum than the museum itself)--but Trant had told him to stay on the main station. None of the levels had anything particularly exciting aside from the cantina, and some were even closed off to non-essential personnel. 

Nine hours into waiting, Jonas got bored enough to take that restriction as a challenge. Slicing may not be one of his strengths, but charm was. Between that and his ability to appear unassuming and nondescript(”Not with those cheekbones,” Bry would tease if she were here. Of course, if she were here, he probably wouldn’t be bored in the first place), he found himself on the mission departure deck fairly easily.

Truth be told, he hadn’t really planned what he’d do when (if) he succeeded, so it was almost a relief when he caught a glimpse of a familiar red jacket in one of the ops coordination rooms; it gave him something to investigate. Even if it made him do a double-take. Thought Shan was on Corellia...

Clearly, he’d thought wrong. As he edged closer to the room it was very obvious one of the figures--the pacing one, of course--was Theron. The other, a soldier, from his armor, was bent over the holotable in the center of the room, studying the pale blue clusters of shuttles it projected. Both looked very intent and eager. Whatever they were overseeing, it must’ve been a big deal.

Curious as boredom had made him, Jonas knew better than to be caught snooping on something that had SIS and the military both salivating like a hungry nexu. He’d started to slowly make his way back toward the elevator when the soldier’s voice growled out and he froze in his tracks.

“Alright, Nerai, your turn for insertion, he said gruffly. “Be ready for a fight.”

Jonas’ brow furrowed. Bry’s already on an assignment, how’d they get her-

“Understood, Colonel.” That was not Bry’s voice over the comm in response. It was softer, mellifluous and gentle. “I am ready to defend myself, but hope to avoid undue violence.”

“Nerai, you are in their heart,” the colonel growled back. “All violence is due violence. You do what it takes to achieve the objective.”

Her image flickered on the holo and Jonas barely bit back an audible grunt of surprise as he eavesdropped. Definitely not Bry. Longer hair, different tattoos, but there was something familiar about her eyes and the curve of her jaw.

“I will not shirk from defending myself, Colonel,” she replied, poised in the face of his bristling. “Nor fail to complete what I promised. But neither will I go out of my way to inflict harm. That is not how I do things.”

“This is no time for Jedi morality-” the colonel started to snarl, but Theron held up a hand.

“Darok, she needs to concentrate if we want this to be a success,” he cut the other man off. His gaze drifted toward the doorway before he looked up at the holo. “Good luck, Master Jedi.”

She smiled--”Thank you, Agent Shan”--and her image flickered and faded.

Remembering his intention, Jonas turned and made for the elevator.at what he hoped was an inconspicuous pace. The hand that settled on his shoulder before he was halfway to his goal said it wasn’t. 

“What are you doing here?” Theron hissed even as he tugged Jonas off to the side so they wouldn’t be visible from the ops room.

“Just passing through,” Jonas replied with an innocent shrug. “Waiting for a ride.”

Theron arched a brow skeptically. “What, the shuttles running every hour on the hour not good enough for you?”

“For me, yeah.” Jonas shrugged again. “Not for our boss.”

He saw the three or four potential next sentences come to mind and be discarded in Theron’s eyes before he sighed and reiterated, “But what are you doing here? On this level?”

“Nothing. Wandering to stave off boredom. Even I can only stomach so long in the cantina before I need something else to do. Got curious what was on the other levels of this place.”

“Haven’t you ever heard that saying, goes something like ‘curiosity killed the reek-cat...?”

“But satisfaction brought it back,” Jonas countered, lips twitching in a smirk at the attached memory. He kept talking before Theron had a chance to growl at him again. “What’re you doing here? Aside from meeting pretty Jedi, I mean.” Who bear a startling resemblance to my fiancee.... “What’s the story there?”

If it was anyone else from their entire office, Jonas would’ve sworn Theron’s ears went just a little red at the insinuation. “Nothing you need to worry about,” he shot back, glancing toward the ops room. “She’s helping with our mission, which is classified, so you’re damn lucky I’m the one who spotted you, not Darok. Man’s jumpier than a Kowakian monkey lizard about this op. Might wanna make yourself scarce before he has you arrested for espionage or something.”

“My job, you mean?” Jonas deadpanned, but Theron didn’t so much as roll his eyes. This op must be a really big deal.

“I’m serious, Balkar.” Theron let go of his arm with a small shove toward the elevator. “Get lost before you get caught. And-”

“Keep my mouth shut, I know,” Jonas cut him off. “I know how discretion works, Shan.” A really big deal.

Theron just nodded curtly, no smart remark in return, and headed back to the ops room.  Jonas did as he’d suggested and made his way back up to the main level of the station, now with much more to keep him busy until his ride got here.

                                                          ---

When the shuttle finally showed up, it was an uneventful ride back to Coruscant. Gave him a chance to start figuring out how to begin the conversation he was now very interested in having for Bry. Questions about hidden family members were tricky to broach, even if they were fueled by curiosity rather than hurt. He assumed. He’d never had to do this before.

He wound up with a couple more days to mull it over before Bry got back from her assignment, and no closer to an appropriately delicate opener to that conversation.

You could just leave it alone. If it was important, she’d have brought it up by now, his thoughts pointed out. Or snoop her records, find out without bothering her.

Neither of those sound like me, Jonas retorted. He was pretty close to just leaving it alone through sheer lack of a good way to start, though.

All the internal debate was rendered moot when Bry got back, flopped on his couch with her legs--as always--across his lap, and asked. “So, do anything fun while I was gone?”

Jonas laughed and ran one hand through his hair. “Funny you should ask...” He rubbed her shin as he gave her the sanitized version of how he’d wound up on Carrick Station and what lengths boredom and curiosity had driven him to, then hesitated, hand going still against her leg as he gambled. “Bry...any particular reason you’ve never mentioned having a sister?”

She stiffened ever so slightly. “B’cause there’s about half a frangin’ ton of baggage involved I didn’t wanna drop on you,” she said glibly after a long pause.

“Bry.” So that had been her sister. Not a cousin or some more distant relation.

She looked at him, let out a long sigh, and swung her legs down to sit up and sidle closer to him on the couch. “Alright. First off, it’s not any reason about you that kept me from sayin’ something. It’s not a trust issue or dirty secret or anything. I just... never mention her to anyone.”

It was clear from her expression and the way her gaze stayed fixed on their knees that this was a serious, difficult subject for her. Still he couldn’t help himself. “Why wouldn’t you mention a sister?”

Bry looked him dead in the eye. “Because it never felt like I had one.” His confusion must have shown, because she sighed again and briefly buried her face in her hands. “Okay, starting at the beginning.... You know I don’t really talk to my parents.”

It wasn’t a question, but Jonas still nodded. “Yeah.”He reached for her hand, relieved when she didn’t pull away. 

In fact, she seemed to appreciate the gesture. “Vica’s why. She’s four years older than me, was found to be Force-sensitive and taken in by the Jedi Order when she was three. My- our parents decided that given we never met, it made perfect sense to never tell me about her. Easier to pretend I was an only child than inevitably wind up explaining to a four year old why her big sister didn’t live at home and we couldn’t visit her.”

Jonas winced at the hurt and sarcasm under the words. For once he held his tongue and simply squeezed her hand in support.

“So they didn’t,” Bry continued, shooting him a faintly grateful smile. “Never breathed a word. Told me I was it, and they were happy that way. I was seventeen when I found the one memento they couldn’t bring themselves to give up--isn’t that how it always goes?--the first family holo from when Vica was born.” She gave a sharp laugh. “That’s what tipped me off; I came almost two weeks early. Dad was off-planet for work and missed my arrival. They’d told me the story a dozen times, so I knew that baby couldn’t be me. When I confronted them about it, they told me the truth easily enough. Said they did it to protect me. To keep me from feeling hurt I lost out on the sister I’d always pestered them for because the Jedi took her before I was born.” Bry pulled her hand free, ran both through her hair, and tipped her head back against the couch. “Stars, I need a drink.”

“Coming right up.” Jonas squeezed her knee as he pushed off the couch. It only took a minute to pour two whiskeys and return to sit next to her.

“Thanks. Bry slugged back half of the one he handed her in a single swallow, winced, and wiped her mouth with the back of her wrist.”This is a good one, sure you wanna waste it-”

“If you need a drink, it’s not a waste,” Jonas cut her off. “Especially since you need it ‘cause of me in the first place.”

She snorted, swirled the remaining liquor. “Always knew you’d drive me to drink,” she teased, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “Just didn’t figure it would be like this.” She sighed, ran her hand through her hair again, then leaned forward to brace her elbows against her knees.”Let’s get this over with..... So. Seventeen, just found out my parents had been hiding a Jedi big sister from me my whole damn life. I was pissed. Didn’t talk to them for weeks. Only reason I didn’t just leave is Sayna pleadin’ their case. That was part of why I joined the military soon as I graduated,” she admitted. “The recruiter had already been sweet-talking me an’ a couple other kids pretty hard. I might’ve done it anyway, but getting away from people who’d lied to me for near on two decades was the final nudge that made it too good a deal to pass up.”

“You ever talk to her?” Jonas asked, mimicking her posture.

Bry shook her head and snorted a bitter laugh. “Jedi aren’t allowed attachments like that, remember?”

I feel like I’ve had this conversation before... Jonas thought wryly. Theron was markedly less bitter about it than her--unless he was really drunk--but the general tone was familiar. “Right.”

She raised a brow at the no-frills reply. “You’re being awfully... taciturn. For you,” she commented, draining her glass. 

He shrugged and swapped her empty tumbler with the full one he held. “I don’t know enough to really comment, beyond saying that while I see where they were coming from, I absolutely disagree with how your parents handled things.”

Bry bumped her shoulder against his as thanks for round two and scoffed. “Oh, I see where they were coming from, too. I get it. I may wonder time to time if it was more for themselves--not having to explain or deal with the questions I would have asked, but I get it. Getting it doesn’t make it hurt any less that they lied to me for seventeen years, Jonas. Every time I asked why I didn’t have any siblings, every time I grumbled about being an only child.... They could have told me, and they didn’t, and that stings like hell.”

“I’ll bet,” he nodded.

Bry flashed an apologetic grimace as she sipped the second whiskey. “Sorry for ranting. I warned you it was a lot of baggage.”

“Eh, you’re entitled, I think.” Jonas rubbed her back.

She relaxed slightly and her grimace turned to a relieved, genuine smile. “And you’re sweet.” She raised one hand to curl around the side of his neck, just below his ear, back towards the nape, and pulled him in for a whiskey-flavored kiss.

“I signed up for the whole ride,” he murmured against her lips, “not just the smooth sailing. It not being official yet doesn’t make me mean it any less-”

Bry kissed him again and he chuckled as he obliged, leaning into it.

“You’re sweet,” she reiterated when they parted. She sat back and handed over the whiskey. “We can share.”

“Or I could get another, if I wasn’t being lazy,” he pointed out as he accepted the tumbler and took a sip. Bry chuckled softly, and they sat in comfortable silence for a handful of seconds, shoulders pressed together, before Jonas spoke again. “Not to keep digging at the wound, Bry, but did you ever try...?”

“Getting in touch despite knowing it;s a long shot?” Bry finished with an almost derisive snort. “Yeah. Once. Just before I went to Ord Mantell.” She slouched enough to put her feet up on the low table in front of the couch. “Got some clearly rehearsed apology that the individual I sought was off-planet and unavailable, but they could pass along a message. Didn’t bother; felt wrong for that to be how she learned I exist. After that... I dunno, I was busy. Lost my nerve, I guess. Or convinced myself it wasn’t that important we get to talk. At least enough to kill my curiosity.”

“Speaking of curiosity...” Jonas turned sideways on the couch, one foot still braced against the floor. “I’d like to apologize for mine making you dig up memories that hurt.”

Bry chuckled dryly and reached up to grab a handful of the front of his shirt. “Eh, you’re cute so I’ll forgive you.”

Jonas laughed and didn’t resist when she pulled him down for another kiss.  “One of my favorite sentences,” he teased.

“Dare I ask what the others are?” She arched a brow and maintained a loose grip on his shirt when he straightened.

“Drinks are on me for one. Hey there, handsome...” he grinned at the look on her face. “You asked.”

“Teach me to be curious...”

“There is one more recent addition,” he said with faux-innocence. “I love you.” He wrapped his hand around hers grasping his shirt, rubbed his thumb over the diamond and chevron tattoo on the back of one finger. “But only when exchanged with one very specific gorgeous blue-eyed badass who currently has her feet on my table.”

“What, that’s not why it’s there?” Bry said playfully, tugging on his shirt. “I love you, too. Even if you are a nosy bastard sometimes.”

“Can’t help it,” Jonas smirked, leaning down to kiss her again. “You’re just so fascinating I want to learn everything about you.”

“Charmer,” she laughed just before their lips met.

“Yep,” he replied, stealing another kiss before shifting to sit in a similar position to hers, though he didn’t put his feet on the table. “Thanks for satisfying my curiosity, gorgeous.”

Bry nodded. “Welcome, handsome. I prob’ly would have told you eventually, might as well be now.” She wriggled closer and leaned her head against his shoulder. “Now that that’s done”--she raised an inquiring brow and he nodded--”what should we do to relax?”

“Did you get to do anything fun while you were gone?” Jonas joked, balancing the whiskey on the arm of the couch.

“Freeze my ass off,” she said glibly. “Deal with stuff that got way more complicated than it should’ve.” 

“Doesn’t it always?”

“Heh, point. It’s behind me now, and I’d rather leave it there. Do something else.”

“Fair.” Jonas had a suspicion this most recent mission was not all she meant. “In that case...” He trailed his fingers lightly up the inside of her forearm and grinned when she bit her lip. “I might have a few suggestions...”

“By all means,” Bry matched his grin as her hand drifted toward the inside of his knee. “Satisfy my curiosity.”

-------------------------------------

It’s been my headcanon for a while that in the Nerai Sisters canon Vica’s The Outlander(TM), so she does all the Shadow of Revan etc stuff since she, y’know, romanced Theron and needs to interact with him. BUT since even the Barsen’thor of the Jedi Order can’t do EVERYTHING, while Vica was running the Assault on Korriban/reclaiming the Jedi Temple Bry was doing Ilum. 

Also: since Bry A) is not a jewelry person and B) can’t really wear it with her job, she gets a tattoo on the back of her left ring finger when she and Jonas get engaged, and then adds to i(a LOT; my girl is not subtle at all) when they actually get married. :D

[imagineclaireandjamie]

anonymous asked: we know Claire usually just becomes more determined if someone tells her she isn't good enough to do something, but what if someone finally tells her something she's truly affected by? How do she and Jamie react / deal with it?

--

Modern Glasgow AU

Jamie turned off the screaming kettle and carefully poured hot water over a fresh teabag. Turning an idea over and over in his mind – how to pitch Lord John Grey’s three-book proposal to Rupert MacKenzie, his boss at Leoch Editions.

 John was a nice enough guy. His family had more money than God, and rather than be yet another bored member of the aristocracy, he’d decided to become something of an amateur historian, focusing on daily life in Britain during the Second World War. Three books he wanted to write – one about the children sent into the countryside for their safety, one about women on the home front while their men fought in Italy and North Africa and the Pacific, and the last about day-to-day life and survival in the midst of the Blitz.

 The man had fantastic ideas, to be sure – but his resume was terribly slim, just a few articles in cigar and hunting magazines. Jamie was convinced that John had what it took to focus and become a big-name writer. He just needed to convince Rupert.

 Which was why he had stayed home today – needing the peace and quiet of the flat to just mull it over and concentrate. He had one shot to pitch John – to help the eager man gain a foothold in his future. And he had to do it right.

 And with almost-two-year-old Faith and seven-month-old Bree dropped off at Murtagh’s flat for the day, Jamie and Claire’s flat was suspiciously quiet.

 Jamie sat back down at the kitchen table, steaming mug of tea in hand –

 - to watch his distraught wife crash through the front door, tears streaming down her face.

 Within a breath he was beside her. Catching her as she collapsed into him.

 “Claire! Are ye well? The bairn – ”

 Protectively his hand cupped the small two-month swell of their third baby.

 She shook her head against his neck, gripping him for dear life in the doorway.

 Not the bairn, then. But what? She’d left extra early this morning…

 “Did ye lose the patient, Claire?”

 She stiffened and pulled back a bit, red-rimmed eyes – still so beautiful – meeting his.

 “I made such a stupid mistake. Thank God I caught it myself – but everyone in the operating theater knew.”

 Gently he stroked her cheek. Thumbed away her tears. “Well, that’s all right, then – isn’t it? It’s no’ like ye havena made mistakes before.”

 She sniffed. “No – but not when Dr. Fentiman was in the room with me.”

 Jamie bristled. Dr. Fentiman had the best reputation at the hospital – perhaps even in all of Glasgow – for his experience and skill with open-heart surgery. He had healed everyone, from common people all the way up to celebrities and members of the nobility. He was one of the reasons why Claire had elected to stay in her position at that hospital, after her medical training concluded.

 The fact that he was almost unbearably misogynistic was the dirty secret that too many people seemed to happily sweep under the carpet.

 Claire had taken it upon herself to begin a secret diary, writing down specific dates and times when she had personally heard – or other female doctors and nurses and staff had heard – the doctor say incredibly demeaning things about his female patients, his female colleagues – anybody female in general.

 She cleared her throat. “I made an obvious but easily fixable mistake. I identified it right away, and announced it to the room. Along with my recommended course of action.”

 Jamie waited. Squeezed her hands.

 “He was coldly professional. And after I announced my recommendation, he just shrugged, and looked at me across the patient, and said, ‘Well, that must be what happens when “mommy brain” gets the best of you.”

 Fire rose within Jamie’s heart and limbs.

 “How dare he?” he hissed.

 Claire swallowed. “I was so flabbergasted – but the other people in the operating theater, they just carried on like nothing had happened. I had to work so hard to control myself to focus, to not be distracted for the sake of the patient.” She closed her eyes. “How does he always know what to say, to cut someone right to the quick?”

 “Are ye bringing up this nonsense again, Claire, about how ye fear ye canna be a good mother and work at the same time?” Jamie’s voice rose with passion. “Because if ye are telling me that that…ape of a man has brought all this crap back up again…”

 “I can’t help that I think of the girls, and this new baby, all the time. They and you are what’s most important to me.” Her voice sounded so far away, eyes still shut tight against the world. “You know I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, with this new baby on the way. How to balance it all. Whether I should be spending so much time helping other people rather than being with my own children.”

 Jamie set his jaw, wanting so badly to stop it – but patiently, silently, he let her speak.

 “And you know how I feel I’ve become more absent-minded since Faith was born. Christ, Jamie, we both can’t sleep at night just worrying about all of them sometimes. And now with this one, we need to move, and how will we be able to afford everything, and what if the birth doesn’t go well this time, and – ”

 “Are ye done beating yerself, Claire?”

 She sighed deeply. Almost resigned.

 “Will ye please look at me, mo nighean donn?”

 She did.

 He cupped her cheeks in his hands. Eyes boring into her.

 “I understand why ye feel the way ye do. We wanted our bairns for so long, didn’t we?”

 She hiccupped, and nodded.

 “They are well. They are more than well. They have so much love and support from the two of us, and Murtagh, and Jenny and Ian and everyone else. We have so many people who want to help us be successful, Claire.”

 “I know,” she sighed.

 “And please don’t get on about being lacking as a mother. Those girls love you more than anything.” He pushed up her shirt and lay his hand on the bare skin of her belly. “And this bairn too – think of all the precautions you’ve already taken to make sure the bairn is safe.”

 She swallowed. Eyes still bright with tears.

 “Do not let that bastard ever make you doubt yourself or your abilities. Can ye just stop for one second and reflect on everything you’ve been able to accomplish?”

 “I know. I know, Jamie. It’s hard to not get tunnel vision sometimes.”

 “Oh, love, I know.” He gathered her close to him, hand still on her belly. “Never doubt yourself. It kills me to see you doubt yourself.”

 “I love you,” she whispered against his skin.

 “Christ, Claire, how I love you.” He squeezed her so tight. “May I take ye to bed now? Just to show you? And to help you just let it all out?”

 She wrapped her legs around his middle.

 He bolted the front door and carried her to their bedroom.

 Sometime later they lay naked on their bed.

 Claire had thrown her left arm over her eyes, wanting to shut out the world and just feel the aftershocks of the mad, passionate, affirming love they’d made.

 Jamie had done yeoman’s work to help her let out all the anger and frustration and tension. Now he turned his head a bit and rested it on her hip, catching his breath, watching her body deliciously quiver and shake.

 “Are ye sure you’re only nine weeks along? Your belly was a bit smaller at this point, the last two times.”

 Feebly Claire groped with her other hand for an anchor on the bed – and she dug her fingers into Jamie’s hair, pushing him back. She felt his chuckle against her.

 And finally, finally he – she – needed a wee rest. Jamie scooted up the mattress, kissed her belly, and rested his head beside hers on the pillow, watching her sleepily smile at him.

 “Better?” he whispered.

 She sighed, so happy. “I’m going to take my notebook to Personnel. Get his ass fired.”

 Jamie grinned. “Good. You should.”

 She rubbed her nose against his. “You make me feel so powerful.”

 He shifted his body closer. Pressing his chest to hers. Darting a hand back between her legs as she threw one leg over his hips.

 “It’s because you are powerful, Claire. You have so much power within you.” He kissed her long and deep.

 “The power to heal.” Kiss.

 “The power to forgive.” Kiss.

 “The power to create life.” Kiss.

 “The power to love.”

 She laughed, and rolled him onto his back, and rose above him, and rejoiced.