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judecole · 4 months ago

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caught on film. cp20

pairing: you x cole palmer

summery: you’re a famous retired footballers daughter and have been dating cole for a few months. the media hasn’t caught on to your relationship just yet but your appearance at the euros final in a certain players shirt causes quite the stir.

word count: 2114

authors note: idk

THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION.

You’re not exactly sure what you did in your past life to end up here, in this beautiful grand hotel in central Berlin. Despite your luxurious lifestyle, being born with a silver spoon in your mouth and having everything you ever wanted, you never took a single thing for granted. The hotel foyer is vast and grand, great marble columns dwarfing everyone in sight and traditional historic paintings in huge gold frames hanging on every wall. It’s beautiful. You stay in these kinds of hotels regularly but they never cease to amaze you. Your family PA is checking you and your family into the hotel as the several concierges begin collecting your luggage. You smile warmly at them and thank them before the manager greets you to show you to your suites. As soon as you enter your room you lay flat out on the bed, exhausted from your day travelling. You’d been flying back and forth from the UK to Germany for the last month. Any major footballing tournaments were a big deal in your family, you’ve been to pretty much every one since you were born. You can remember being a small child, wearing a shirt with your father’s name and number on the back and feeling so proud every time he stepped on the pitch. However now, things were a bit different. Your family were now invited as special guests and given all the best treatment, a private box in the stands where members of staff would meet your every need. You did truly feel blessed and very appreciative for everything your parents had done for you and your siblings.

You pull your phone out from your trouser pocket and check for any messages. Nothing. You bite your lip and open up iMessage and clicking on Cole’s name. You had been dating Cole for about six months. Things were going very well for the two of you, your parents loved him, especially your dad who was amazed by his talent on the pitch. You’d initially met him when he played at Manchester City after being invited to watch an U21’s match. You loved his laid back style and calm manor when he was playing. You smile as you remember the first time you spoke to him, all sweaty after the game. You’d gone down with your dad to congratulate the boys on their win and chatted with them. You swear you’d fallen for him right then and there, not being able to get his stupid grin out of your head. You begin typing a message to him when your younger sister walked into your room, plopping herself next to you on the bed. “You texting Cole?” She asks, a smirk on her face. She loved to wind you up about your relationship with the football player, often saying that the pair of you made her feel sick. You roll your eyes before replying, “Yeah, I’m gonna see what he’s doing after training.” You type out the message, “I know ur probably training rn but what are u doing tonight? I wanna see youuuu.’

You place your phone down on the bed and lay back, resting your head on the soft pillows. “Are you nervous about tomorrow? I hope Cole gets to play.” Your sister says, actually not being mean or sarcastic for once. “Yeah. I hope he does too.” You hear your phone ding. Picking it up, Cole’s name flashes on the screen. ‘Defo getting an early night but i can see you in the afternoon. Love ya.’ You smile at the words. You know how serious he takes his job, but he never fails to make time for you too. You text him back quickly and lay back again, smiling. “You’re so in love with him it’s gross.” Your sister playfully hits your arm causing you to slap her back.

A few hours later you’re getting ready to head to the England Squads hotel, a little trip planned by your father’s management team that conveniently lined up with your plans to meet Cole that afternoon. Your mum comes in to your room as you’re putting on some makeup and compliments your outfit, a simple pair of jeans and a top that was sent to you by a company that no doubt cost more than a night in the hotel itself. You smile and thank her, pulling her into a gentle side hug as she kisses your head. Your mum was definitely surprised when you told her about your relationship with Cole. Given your previous dating history he would never had been your type. But there was just something about him that instantly pulled you in, you still don’t know what it was to this day but you weren’t complaining.

Arriving at the squads hotel you check your hair and makeup in a compact mirror, brushing a few stray hairs into place with your nails. Your sister rolls her eyes, something that had now become the norm and makes a comment under her breath you can’t really hear. You get out the car and are greeted by some of the staff who lead you in through the hotels modern entrance. The hotel looked more like a spa than a hotel, every piece of furniture placed exactly, in a way to promote relaxation. You follow through the entrance into a board room, filled with players, staff and other prolific footballing legends and their families. You scan the crowd, looking for Cole. It doesn’t take you long as you see your dad pulling him in for a hug and patting him on the back, obviously congratulating him on reaching the finals. You grin as lock eyes with him, quickly wrapping your arms around him. He places a kiss to the top of your head, surprising you. He wasn’t the biggest fan of PDA, even the smallest things like holding hands made him panic. Maybe it was the fact you were one of the most famous people in the world which constantly occurred to him but never to you. You noticed some eyes laying on the pair of you which made you release him. You quickly returned to your professional manner and wished him good luck before finding your mum. She nudges you and gives you a cheeky smile when you reach her. “You two are silly. Why does it matter if anyone finds out?” She says. “It’s not that. I want to be public with him but not now. I want him to focus on football and I don’t want the media circus for him right now.” You say and give her a small smile. “Well that’s very thoughtful of you but make sure you’re public before Christmas because I’m not editing him out of the Instagram pictures.” She wraps an arm round you as you approach more people and chat about the final tomorrow.

Later that night after an expensive dinner in a posh restaurant near the squads hotel, you text Cole and tell him you want to see him before he goes to bed. He replies almost immediately and you ask your driver to wait outside the hotel and that you were just going to take a quick walk. You could see his tall figure on approach which made you speed up, not wanting to waste any more time not having his arms around you. “Hey.” He says softly when you reach him, extending his arms out and enveloping you in them. “Hey.” You almost whisper. “Wanna go for a walk?” You nod your head and begin walking hand in hand. It was dark now but the city of Berlin was still bustling, what with the warm weather. You walk past busy restaurants and bars packed with what you could only assume were England fans based on the noise. Cole squeezes your hand every so often, he can feel his palms become clammy when you look up at him. He still couldn’t believe his luck. After the first time he met you he couldn’t get you out of his mind. He was glad you made the first move though, otherwise you probably wouldn’t have been in this position now. Once you reach somewhere quieter Cole lets go of your hand and wraps his arm around your shoulder, pressing a kiss to your temple at the same time. “Are you nervous about tomorrow?” You ask him. You almost knew what he was about to say, “Not really. You know me.” He cracks a smile.

“I hope Southgate plays you, Cold Palmer.” You joke and poke his side playfully. “Me too. Hopefully I’ll get some time.” You end up sitting on a bench overlooking a river, the hustle and bustle far behind you now. “It’s really pretty here.” You mutter. “Not as pretty as you.” He winks as you roll your eyes. You continue talking for a while before Cole regretfully tells you it’s getting late and he probably needs to head back now. He places a quick peck on your lips and stands up, offering you a hand. “I’m so excited for tomorrow. Are you gonna score a goal for me Palmer?” You tease as you approach the hotel. He shakes his head at you and smiles. When you return to the hotel entrance he turns to face you, you look up at him and he swears his heart starts beating a hundred times faster. “I’ll see you after the game, okay? I love you.” He places a soft kiss on your lips making you blush. “Good luck babe. I love you too. You’re gonna smash it.” You wave him goodbye and open the door of the car, getting in and thank your driver for waiting.

You wake up the next morning with a nervous feeling in your tummy. It sticks around for pretty much the whole day. You feel especially nervous when getting dressed. You grabbed your England shirt that you’d hung carefully in the hotel wardrobe and put it on, turning around in the mirror to see the back. You’d always wanted to wear his shirt to a game. You snap a quick picture and keep it for later, maybe to post on Instagram. You knew the absolute carnage that would take place when you did. You arrive at the Olympiastadion Berlin in your families usual fashion, through the back in all blacked out vehicles with staff waiting for you at the other end. The nerves had well and truly kicked in now. You check your phone to see if Cole had texted you. You knew he wouldn’t be nervous, very sure in himself and the team’s quality but you wanted him to text you to ease your nerves. Your dad shook the hands of the staff that greeted you and you thanked them as they took you all up to your private box. You were sharing with a few other well known people, you eagerly greeted them with big smiles.

(We all know how the game went so we’ll just leave it at that.)

A devastating loss for England. You were gutted. But also immensely proud of Cole. He’d been subbed on in the seventieth minute and scored only three minutes later. The only goal for England that game. You headed down to the pitch once everything had calmed down and spotted Cole in the stands with his family. His eyes were glassy with tears as he spoke to his dad. You approach slowly and he notices you, standing up immediately and wrapping you in a tight hug. You could hear the snapping of cameras behind you but neither of you cared in that moment. “I’m sorry baby.” You spoke quietly as you pulled away, cupping one side of his face with your hand. “You were amazing.” He sniffled slightly, trying not to cry in front of you but failing miserably as he pulled you in again. You rubbed his back reached up to kiss his cheek. His dad walked towards the both of you and pats Cole on the back before sitting with Cole’s mum. “I can’t believe we lost.” He reaches up to dry his eyes as you pout and rub his arm. You turn around slightly hearing his sister call your name. “Love your shirt.” He smirks a bit, it clearly cheering him up. He wraps his arm around your shoulder as you begin chatting with his sister.

You’re on your way back to your hotel when your phone begins to blow up. Story after story about your relationship with Cole, using the picture they clearly got when you were consoling him after the game. You save the picture, setting it as your lockscreen and then posting the picture of you in his shirt from earlier to your Instagram story.

#cole palmer #england #england nt #football #cole palmer x reader #footballer x reader #chelsea fc #chelsea #jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #trent alexander arnold #premier league #euros 2024

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bunni-v1 · 1 year ago

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idk if this counts as a story idea but may I request Lillia x child human reader. It was during the fae and human war and you were his kid but got ripped away by the humans from the war and years later you reunite.

Stay safe pls!! <33

Lost and Found

TW: War Trauma!; Lilia does stalking again but only a little; You look like Lilia

Info: Lilia x Reader (familial); Angst with a happy(?) ending; Not cannon compliant; Not my finest piece my bad guys

🍓I LOVE writing Lilia. I started writing him for Cureé and I realized how silly he is. I was a bit lost on how to go about writing this since canonically Lilia didn’t know how to (or didn’t know he could) love until Malleus. But… tbh making shit up is what fanfic is for lol.

Fae can only be born through love. That was a fact that all Fairies knew. You could not produce a child unless there was mutual love. So, it was quite a surprise when General Lilia found himself stuck with a child who looked a little too much like him for it to be a coincidence.

He was not capable of love, at least… he didn’t think he was. He had no clue who could’ve mothered you — he had no idea who he loved, except the princess of course, but she did not love him back… Without your mother, what was he supposed to do? He was a General and he was in the midst of a war — how could he have time to raise a child?

He would’ve dropped you off on someone else’s doorstep, making you another unsuspecting person's responsibility. When he looked into your big red eyes, he knew he couldn't. You didn’t ask to be born just like he didn’t ask for you. Whether he liked it or not, you were his responsibility and he was just going to have to live with that fact.

So after drills and horrific blood-filled battles where he lost hundreds of soldiers, he would return home to you.

You were old enough to be walking and talking, and boy did you walk and talk. You wandered around his small quarters and babbled on and on about things he couldn’t even begin to comprehend. It was annoying, at first. He was used to silence when he was alone — he treasured it. You did not.

Still, he put up with it because he didn’t have a choice.

He would make you little meals — none of which looked all that… delectable, but you scarfed them down like they were the best things you’d ever had. Maybe they were.

Eventually, he began talking to you — about his troubles, about his day, about his workload. It didn’t matter, because you would sit there and listen attentively to everything he had to say and respond with the best sentence you could muster for your age.

He hated to admit it, but he came to care about you. He liked spending time with you after his long day, and worried about you while he was gone. Each milestone you crossed filled him with a sense of pride he’d never gotten on the battlefield. He adored each hair on your head, even when your little hands were tugging too hard on his own while you tried to practice braids.

He even began to teach you magic and loved how your face would light up when you got a spell right.

The both of you would go for runs together in the forest, and your long black hair — so much like his — would flow in the wind.

When it would storm, you would cry until he wrapped you up in a blanket and held you tight in his arms.

He would’ve been happy with this little life he had with you. He could’ve lived his days out like this and been satisfied.

War tears families apart, though. War does not have favorites. War doesn’t discriminate.

He should’ve known better, he should’ve been more careful, he should’ve moved you as soon as he knew humans were in the area. He didn’t, though. He left you there and promised you that he would be right back. He promised you that he’d keep you safe.

He rarely failed his missions, but this one he had. He came back to his home ransacked and you gone.

He searched for hours: Nothing.

He screamed your name until his throat was raw: Nothing.

He begged his men and friends to look: Nothing.

It was one of the few times in his life he cried. It was one of the only times that he could not stop. The little family portraits you’d made served as cold reminders of what he had lost. He could hardly handle looking at anything that belonged to you, so he locked it away in a little box and hadn’t opened it since.

That was centuries ago, and Lilia had long since moved on from his loss. He only hoped that the humans did not kill you — that they had enough humanity to let a child survive, even if you were his. That, maybe, you were still happy and alive out there.

He used what he learned from you to raise his boys — who were his pride and joy. Still, he missed you every time that Malleus would proudly show him a drawing of their little family. Or when Silver looked at him in excitement after finally perfecting a spell.

You would’ve loved your younger brothers, he was sure of it. If only you could be there to see what they’ve all achieved.

Still, they grew and time passed until eventually Malleus and Silver were both attending NRC. Lilia joined them — half to keep Malleus safe, half because it seemed like a fun idea. He had seen most things in his life, so there were few surprises left that could actually surprise him.

Seeing Malleus chatting with a near-carbon copy of himself, however, did quite the number on his old heart.

You were short — still taller than him, unfortunately — and had grown your hair out so you could put it up in a ponytail. Long like his used to be. Your red eyes seemed to sparkle in such a familiar way. His heart and his head couldn’t take the shock, so he slipped away before he could be spotted.

He continued to observe from a distance, trying to convince himself that he was wrong. That it could not be you after all these years. Everything proved him wrong. The way you talked, your mannerisms, and your love for art. Especially your keen eye.

When you cornered him in between classes was when he really knew it was you. You had a scowl on your face that could scare off any trained soldier. It was his scowl.

“Are you going to explain why you’ve been following me all this time, or am I gonna have to use force,” you said, just as he might’ve so many years ago.

He didn’t have much of a defense, so he improvised, “I like your art, watching you draw is interesting.”

“That's…” He was busted, “a bit creepy… If you liked my art you could’ve just talked to me, I know I’m a little scary looking but I don’t bite.”

Thus began the ruse of art-loving Lilia. The two of you would meet up around campus and he would watch you sketch these elaborate drawings like it was nothing. He always knew you would be a talented artist.

He got to know you again. Got to see what you liked, and what you didn’t like, and learned that you couldn’t taste — which explains why you ate his cooking so happily. He found out that you were saved by a loving human family who not only adopted you but did their best to let you learn about your origins. He knew you were loved in the way that you were meant to be — in the way he never would’ve been able to during that time.

It helped heal his heart enough that he was able to go through that little box of your stuff that he had kept for so long. He had missed looking at the little drawing of you and him you’d given him for his birthday.

Truthfully, he thinks you forgot all about him, and he was okay with that. Less pain for you to suffer through. Then, one day, that changes.

The pair of you were in his room because he had this cool piece of architecture you were dying to sketch out in person. He had left the room for only a few moments, but when he came back you were focused on his desk, and he realized that he did not put things back into the box like he usually did the night prior. You were staring at one thing in particular, the picture you drew all those years ago.

“I apologize for the mess,” he sounded behind you, but you didn’t react.

Instead, you picked up the little picture yourself to examine it closer. The silence as you observed the piece made Lilia’s skin crawl.

Finally, you turned to him with an awkward smile, “This is gonna sound crazy, 'cause we’re both college students, but… did you ever have kids — like, your own kids?”

Unsure of how to respond, he muttered, “Once.”

“Were they taken by humans,” you followed up.

“A long, long time ago.”

“This is probably a stretch, but, do you think that maybe you could be my dad…?”

He didn’t respond for a long moment, face going stiff as if he was once again that young soldier who found you crying on his doorstep after your mother abandoned you. You bit your lip nervously, unsure of what to do yourself when he was looking at you like that.

“It was just a stupid question, I’m sorry,” he didn’t respond, “I’ll go. Sorry.”

As you began to walk out, his mind came back to him and he kicked into full gear, “Wait, no, I’m not upset. Please… sit, let’s talk.”

Talk you did. About him and his life. How you disappeared and how he searched for you for so long. Then about his boys, and how much he loved them and how badly he wished that he could tell all of you the truth. You cried as hard as you could, and he swaddled you up as best as possible and wrapped you up in his arms — like he always used to do. He cried too, the hardest he had in his entire life. Because you were safe, and because you were reunited with him.

At some point, you asked, “Did you miss me?”

He could only respond, “Every single day.”

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #x reader #bunni's treats 🧁#lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia vanrouge

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vvynia · 1 year ago

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abby and your family’s thanksgiving

pairing: a. anderson x black southern belle!reader

genre: fluff w/ brief mention of smut (mdni)

word count: its headcanons so its short but idk the specific number sowwwy

warnings: not beta read, brief mentions of homophobia but only bc reader’s family isn’t like that, mention of family drama, pregnancy mention, brief moment where religion is talked about (saying grace/prayer)

synopsis: this is literally just headcanons of what would happen if our beloved abby anderson attended your family’s thanksgiving/reunion if you don’t celebrate. very much black reader-centric, but anyone’s welcome to read it esp if you’re from the south cause this is also heavily southern reader coded.

bringing abby anderson to your black (southern) family’s thanksgiving would be a sight to behold.

and imagine its everyone’s FIRST time meeting her too. assuming everyone is super cool and unhateful, i just know she’d have all the aunties’ attention. they see her height, her build and turn to you talkin about, “now, where’d you find her?”

abby would 100% be in ya grandmama’s backyard huddled around the grill with the uncles and dads. she’s got a lil beer in hand (she probably doesn’t even like beer but she likes fitting in and it isn’t all bad when the bonding is genuine) one of em goes “mhm that turkey bout done smokin” and abby is taking mental notes cause one day, she’s gonna smoke a turkey for you two’s family, in your backyard, and your grandkids are gonna be running around

the kids are OBSESSED with her. they climb her like she’s a jungle gym, ask her to throw them in the air, ask her all types of questions. “ABIGAIL! come play with us!” and she does, but the whole time she’s wondering how they discovered what her full name is cause she sure ain’t tell em lool

sometime after, she gets together in the livingroom with you and your cousins, then that one uncle or aunt comes in, says a few words, then leaves with a plate. the gossip commences lol and she’s so in tune to what ya’ll are talking about. she thought her family could dog somebody out?

all that pales in comparison to yall’s words. these sly (and sometimes even blatant) insults are unhinged, the storyline is juicy. she feels like she’s listening to an audiobook of lore. and whenever she asks a question for clarification, someone is always ready to start from the beginning with “see, what had happened was” and “to make a long story short” (the story was not made short)

then it actually comes time to eat, time for her to have her taste buds born anew

your family has whipped up some southern classics: sweet potato pie, pig feet, neck bones and collard greens, cabbage, pound cake, and every other dish you can think of.

you were in charge of the sweet tea, but this year you made a peach batch cause you know abby likes peaches 🥰

ya’ll say grace cause lets be real, if this is the south, somebody baptist and its probably the family matriarch lol

abby is respectful about it whether she believes in god or not cause your family has treated her with the most open of arms and she can feel the love and hospitality all around (if god is real, she thinks, he would’ve wanted everyone who believes in him to be like my sweet girl’s family)

when ya’ll are done and everyone has plated their food, they’re all silently waiting for the white girl’s reaction. they’re trying to play it off, be casual, not stare LOL but they know what’s coming i must admit

and abby doesn’t disappoint cause as you’re sitting next to her, soon as she puts some of them collard greens in her mouth and a couple candied yams and your grandaddy’s secret cast iron skillet macaroni recipe in her mouth, the satisfaction is written all over her face

everyone starts laughing when one of the kids say, “damn, girl, is it good?” to which they’re scolded lol but ofc abby nods like she’s trying to shake the hair follicles out her head

after everyone has ate and said what they’re thankful for (she says she’s thankful for you ofc but she leaves out how thankful she is for getting to strap you down at least twice a week), you two go sit on the porch alone.

you’re leaned against her in a two-seater rocking chair, bellies impossibly full, enjoying the gentle breeze and setting sun and the scent of food that is still wafting from the house

one of your cousin’s kids runs up from the backyard, comes up to you asking for help with opening a new toy, so you help

abby sees how cool you are, how in your element you are with your family, and this moment truly solidifies how much she wants this with you too. ya’ll have had the kids conversation before, so she knows you want at least one

she can’t help but think how gorgeous you’d look bein her housewife, barefoot and pregnant and divine and ethereal, starting a family, never having to worry for a thing bc she’s gonna take care of you

and she knows, when she needs it, you’ll take care of her too

I LOVE LOVE

#abby anderson x black reader #abby anderson x reader #abby x reader #abby headcanons #abby anderson #thanksgiving #tlou 2 #tlou #lesbian #wlw

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babydollmarauders · 1 year ago

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MEDIA MANAGEMENT — JACK HUGHES (23-24 SZN PART 10)

au masterlist

y/ndevils00

liked by tofff73, jackhughes, and 266,359 others

y/ndevils00 🚨🚨 NEW UNCLE HAT TRICK 🚨🚨

TYLER ‘TOFFEE TRUFFLE’ TOFFOLI GOT HIS FIRST DEVILS HAT TRICK!! just coming off his first goal as a devil, too! GO NEW UNCLE!! YOU SLAYED TONIGHT, QUEEN! first slide was my reaction to his empty net hatty goal!!

but before those three goals could happen, we had to kick off the scoring somehow! and what better way to do it than with a Holtzy goal!! congrats on your first of the season!!

and squished in there between those three goals, CAPTAIN SWISS GOT HIS FIRST GOAL OF THE SEASON! TWICE! one goal WAS taken away for goalie interference— but don’t worry your slutty lil mind, Neeks, because it still counts in my heart!

my not-so-sweet, bff4l-ttylxox, maraschino cherry got a penalty for roughing— i missed what he actually did because i was climbing into the penalty box (btw if you have pics of that, please delete them, i can’t have evidence of me breaking into jail), but i’ve decided in my head that he punched a guy to defend me. and if he didn’t… what a bitch

and of course, who would i be if i didn’t point out that MY BOYFRIEND IS THE FIRST PLAYER TO GET 14 POINTS IN THE OPENING 5 GAMES OF A SEASON SINCE MARIO LEMIEUX IN 1992! whew, try saying that 10 times fast! the love of my life had FOUR primary assists tonight (on all 3 of uncle Toff’s goals and on captain’s goal!)! MY MAN, THANK YOU TO MY MAN!

p.s. i swear i feed him

p.p.s. we have no enemies of tonight, because none of the habs really played great… so i would just like to point out that, though not pictured here, I SAW MY TEDDY BEAR, COLE CAUFIELD TONIGHT! he seemed happy to see me! until i showed him my french? idk why that upset him so much

tagged dawson1417, holtz_10, tofff73, nicohischier, jackhughes, and john.marino97

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holtz_10 thank you, y/n!!

y/ndevils00 well this is awkward

holtz_10 i’m not sure i understand how

y/ndevils00 you gave me nothing to work off of. how am i supposed to show my personality if all you say is “thank you”?

holtz_10 oh, i know! Nico gave me answer to this one: you don’t.

y/ndevils00 @/nicohischier am i a joke to you?

dawson1417 I MADE IT

y/ndevils00 you’re such a meme, i love you 🫶

dawson1417 thanks, i was born this way!

y/ndevils00 never change, sugar muffin!

user19 so who has the pics of y/n climbing into the penalty box?

colecaufield YOU CALLED ME YOUR “LITTLE CABBAGE HEAD”

y/ndevils00 well yeah, but i said “JE T’AIME, mon petit tête de chou.”

colecaufield saying you love me does not make it better

y/ndevils00 yes it does?

colecaufield how?

y/ndevils00 because i said so?

colecaufield @/jackhughes take her home. i don’t want her in my country anymore

y/ndevils00 I WAS BORN HERE! YOU’RE AMERICAN!

john.marino97 i wish i could say i was shocked when i got to the penalty box and you were sitting on the floor, but nothing you do surprises me anymore

y/ndevils00 awww that’s so sweet!

john.marino97 that wasn’t a compliment

y/ndevils00 it’s okay to not act tough <3 you can compliment me

john.marino97 i’m beginning to worry you don’t know what compliments are

nicohischier i wasn’t worrying at all, but nice to know. it’s appreciated ❤️ love you

y/ndevils00 love you too! hey, i have a picture of you bent over, do you wanna see it?

nicohischier i take it back, please move back to canada

y/ndevils00 well that was mean :( you could’ve just said no :(

nicohischier fine, i’m sorry. no, thank you

y/ndevils00 okay! i just sent it to you!

nicohischier why do i bother?

user83 i would do anything to see Marino’s face when he walked into the penalty box and just saw y/n there waiting for him

y/ndevils00 it was a little like this: 🤨😐😑🙄!

jackhughes YOU don’t even feed me. i feed YOU!

y/ndevils00 that’s cause you make the money and i look pretty and make jokes!

jackhughes and you do such a good job!

y/ndevils00 thank you, i know!

jackhughes well that’s a bit conceited

y/ndevils00 you’re one to talk, mr. mirror ***

jackhughes THAT WAS FOR YOU AND YOU KNOW IT

y/ndevils00 IT WAS YOUR IDEA

jackhughes AND YOU LIKED IT

y/ndevils00 yeah, i did *insert debby ryan gif*

tofff73 Cat says i did indeed “slay tonight” ?? whatever that means

y/ndevils00 ask her to marry me

tofff73 she’s MY wife?

y/ndevils00 okay and? what, are you against love?

tofff73 no, i’m against you stealing my wife

y/ndevils00 you are no longer slaying tonight. you ran out of slay. you are flopping. you’re in your flop era.

tofff73 i kissed your boyfriend a few days ago and then got a hat trick, what did you do?

y/ndevils00 i did other things to my boyfriend and i’ll get a hat trick tonight

tofff73 you don’t even play hockey?

john.marino97 how are you so innocent? you’re 31

tofff73 @/john.marino97 i’m so lost

dawson1417 probably better if you keep it that way, dude

trevorzegras can’t believe you saw Cole before you saw me

y/ndevils00 not my fault we played the french before the quackies 🤷‍♀️ take it up with buttman

trevorzegras it’s *bettman

y/ndevils00 oh, i know

trevorzegras how do you still have a job?

y/ndevils00 nepotism

trevorzegras oh yeah

user68 this is the second time y/n has used this joke, WHO IS SHE A NEPO BABY OF?!

lhughes_06 you yelled at me

y/ndevils00 you knocked down my teddy bear

lhughes_06 I DIDNT MEAN TO! AND IT’S MY JOB!

y/ndevils00 WELL I WANT YOU TO SUCK AT YOUR JOB WHEN YOU PLAY AGAINST MY FAVORITE FAKE CANADIAN

_quinnhughes you said i was your favorite fake canadian!

y/ndevils00 @_quinnhughes and you are!

_quinnhughes you just said Cole is your favorite!

y/ndevils00 @_quinnhughes no i didn’t

_quinnhughes are you trying to gaslight me? when there’s literal proof?

y/ndevils00 @_quinnhughes no! (is it working?)

_quinnhughes yes, you are! (no)

y/ndevils00 @_quinnhughes (damnit)

#media management au!#media management series <3 #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fic #jack hughes blurb #nj devils #nhl imagine #nhl fic #faithlynn’s insta edits <3 #faithlynn’s writings <3

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im-a-writer-sometimes · 1 year ago

Text

Thank You, Doctor (Miguel O’Hara - Part 4/4)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Epilogue

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: violence (like icky ewy game of thrones violence at the end there), language, general unaddressed trauma idk

🕷

If Sam noticed you were quiet the next morning, he didn't mention it. He simply ate the waffle you brought him, occasionally flicking his eyes over to you. After a while, the silence had apparently grated him enough to move him to conversation.

“You never told me how you landed here,” he said around a bite of waffle, drawing your eyes towards him.

You sat down on the end of a bed, watching him eat. “I was never supposed to be born.”

“What does that mean?”

“My father was what they call a jumper, and he knocked up my mom in a universe other than his own, leaving my DNA split between two different universes.”

He took another bite, considering you. “I don’t see how that’s your fault.”

You shrugged. “It’s not, but my universe was collapsing because of me, so…”

“So you came here,” he finished.

“Came is a nice word for it.”

“You were taken like me,” he said, and you stood from the bed.

“We don’t need to talk about this,” you said, beginning to prep your station.

Sam stood, dropping his empty food container in the trash can right beside you. “Do you ever think they’re lying to us?” he asked, his voice dipped into a whisper.

You went still. “I—I don’t know. I saw my universe glitching. I could feel it collapsing.”

“And have you seen it since then?”

After no response, Sam quietly slipped out, leaving you to your work. His words kept turning over and over in your mind, and every spider that came through that day was met with a distant-eyed, little-spoken Y/n, a sight none of them had encountered before.

Were you mad at Miguel? Yes, because he’d spoken thoughtlessly, perhaps unveiling some unconscious belief he still needed to unravel on his own. But to think the man that had done something so soft as carrying you to your room and bookmarking your book after you’d fallen asleep was in charge of some multiversal fascist regime, using a fabricated conception of the universe to blind people to his own abuse of power was—

No. That wasn’t right.

“Can we talk?”

You didn’t turn around at the voice that sounded behind you. The med bay was empty save for you, but it still felt wrong having this conversation in public.

“About what?” you asked, still facing the counter, not turning to face Miguel.

“About what you said last night,” he said, before tacking on, “And what I said.”

“What is there to talk about?”

“You don’t owe me anything, Y/n,” he started and you could feel him stepping closer. “I’ve never believed that you have, and—I’m sorry if I made you feel that way. Neither of you are prisoners, except maybe of your own circumstances. While you are here, you can do as you please.”

You still didn’t turn.

“We begin clearing out the lower-threat anomalies at the end of the week. Sending them back to their own universes,” he said. “You know you aren’t low threat, but I’ll give you the option to go.”

“What?”

“I believe you’ll choose right in the end,” he said. “But you’re right. It’s your universe, not mine. I shouldn’t have robbed you of your right to choose.”

You slowly turned around, finding him once again standing in a t-shirt and sweatpants instead of his suit. He didn’t look like he’d slept a wink.

“You’re telling me—I can leave?”

He nodded. “Staying is also an option. But it’s up to you.”

“And what about the inevitable collapse of my universe?”

He looked down at the ground, bringing his hands to his hips. “You’ll have time once you return. Time to see for yourself. Decide for yourself.”

“And if I leave and decide to come back?”

“You will still have a place here,” he said, and without a response from you, he nodded once and turned to leave.

“Miguel,” you said, taking a few steps towards him. He paused, looking at you over his shoulder. “Thank you.”

He looked you over once before nodding again, stepping out of the med bay and leaving you to quell the two worlds now colliding within you. You looked around at the space around you—too big. It seemed to swallow you whole. Was this just another trick?

🕷

It was two days later—the end of the week approaching—when Lyla appeared before him at his station with a wide smile.

“Guess what?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Don’t remember programming any guessing games.”

“You’ll want to play this one,” she said.

He rolled his eyes. “What is it?”

“I’ve found the Jumper,” she said, and Miguel only blinked at her.

“You found his trace?”

Lyla shook her head. “I found him. He’s been in the same universe for the last two weeks.”

Miguel glanced towards the door, imagining the stretch of the med bay just beyond and the woman currently pacing its floor. He looked back at Lyla with a nod. “Full alert,” he said. “I want every spider on base in the Jumper’s universe pronto.”

🕷

Sam stepped into the med bay long before his shift, ten minutes or so after the entire base had been cleared out—save for a few spiders to guard the prisoners, far off from the med bay.

Miguel had come to say goodbye before he left, and you could tell simply by the rigid tilt of his back and the apologetic look in his eyes that he was going after your father.

“I thought you could use some company,” said Sam, sitting on one of the beds at your station. “Seeing as this is likely the calm before the storm.”

You nodded, not turning to face him fully. You couldn’t—not when you’d been given the option to leave, and he hadn’t. Or maybe he had, and he was withholding it from you for the same reason.

“Have you always worn that?’ he asked, nodding his head towards your wrist. You looked down at your wristband, furrowing your brows as you met his eyes.

“Since I got here, yes,” you said. “You felt how painful it is to glitch.”

“Have you? Glitched, I mean,” he asked.

You shook your head, turning back towards your station.

“Odd,” he said. “Considering you are supposedly an anomaly. Figures you would have spent your whole life glitching in and out in your own universe.”

“It wasn’t really mine,” you said, turning to face him. “Do you have a point?”

He did, and it was the pointed end of a scalpel coming down on your wrist, severing your wristband and letting it fall to the floor.

“What are you doing? Are you insane?”

You lunged for the scalpel, but he dodged your reach, stepping away and leaving a chasm of space between you as you—didn’t glitch. You felt no different at all.

“And if I do it—” he started, before slicing off his own wristband. You called out, taking a step closer as he began to glitch in and out.

“You’re different, Y/n,” he said, as his body became shapeless, jumping between forms. “Someone like you shouldn’t exist.”

“Someone like me?” you asked, voice on the verge of breaking. “Please, Sam, just—let’s find another wristband, we can—”

“Someone who is made up of more universes than one,” he continued, his voice distorted and strange. “Someone who can exist in any of them.” And then for a heart stopping moment, he coalesced back into his own shape, long enough to offer a sickly-sharp smile. “You’re welcome, kid.”

🕷

It was quiet. Too quiet. Usually, if Miguel caught the tail end of one of the Jumper’s escapades, the dimension was in chaos as he liked it. But this was a simple, peaceful universe, with nothing more than a light flickering on and off in the Jumper’s window.

“You’re sure he’s here?” he asked as he swung up onto the building, landing outside the window.

“I’ve never felt a trace so strong,” said Lyla, and he glanced inside, seeing nothing more than a messy apartment. A few other spiders had jumped with him, even more coming up through the stairwell, even more keeping watch around the building to make sure everything went smoothly.

Miguel shook his head. “Something’s not right,” he said, before slowly easing open the window and slipping inside.

He smelled it first. As did the rest of the spiders trailing in behind him, covering their noses at the stench of decay.

“God, who died?” snapped one of them, and Miguel began combing through the apartment, stepping into the kitchen and pausing his step.

“The Jumper,” he said, finding the man’s body laid out on the floor.

“Was he killed?” asked one of the spider’s, and Lyla appeared above the body, shaking her head.

“This can’t be right,” she said. “I felt his trace for certain. And there’s no sign of death.” She flickered out and appeared again on the other side of the body, scanning it. “It’s like he was never even alive.”

“Boss!” came the voice of a spider still in the living room and Miguel stepped away, finding a book in the spider’s hand. He grabbed it, scanning the cover. The Gentleman’s Guide to Astral Projection. He looked up at the spider, and she gestured to a stack of books on the table. He stepped closer, thumbing through the titles.

How the Demons Do It: A How-To Guide to Possession

The Multiverse Within Each of Us

The Mutable Physics of Personhood

Unhappy With Your Own Body? Steal Someone Else’s!

“O’Hara!” came a voice from another room, and he left the books, stepping into what must have been the Jumper’s bedroom. The walls were lined with photos and madly-scrawled notes—so many that Miguels’ eyes could barely catch on one.

“Look at this,” said the spider, and he came up to the far wall, following the spider’s gaze to a picture and a various set of IDs. He blinked. Blinked again. They were for one Dr. Sam Eddard. “I think the Jumper found himself a new ride.”

“No,” he said, “That’s not—”

“—the worst part,” finished the spider, gesturing to the entire right wall. The wall Miguel had somehow not even noticed. Hundreds of pictures.

Of you.

Just you.

And a note in the middle he ripped down—the key to multiversal travel? no singular universe’s DNA; can exist in any (and destroy any?).

“I don’t think Sam Eddard is his final destination,” said the spider, and Miguel’s heart went still in his chest.

“This was a trap,” he breathed, taking in all of the spiders currently combing through the apartment. All of the spiders. Away from base. It was a split second before the note was fluttering out his hand and he was stepping—no, running—through a portal.

🕷

You don’t think you’d ever run so fast in your life. Sam—your father—whoever he was, was nothing more than a blocky, multicolor glitch of a person as he tailed you, but somehow that made him faster.

“This is your destiny, Y/n,” he called after you. “You can’t run from it.”

“Watch me,” you said, skirting to a stop inside Miguel’s control room. You looked around for something—anything—to use as a weapon as Sam stepped through, finally settling back into his own shape.

“I’m the reason you exist,” he said. “You owe me this.”

“I don’t think you understand the concept of fatherhood,” you answered, trying and failing to yank a metal bar off a piece of shelving, feeling him drawing closer.

“Do you know how long I had to wait?” he asked. “Wait until you’d grown, wait until I’d figured out this body jumping bullshit.”

“Terribly sorry for the inconvenience,” you said, finally managing to rip a slender iron pipe free, leveling it out before you as a warning.

“And then when I finally find my way back to your mother’s universe,” he shook his head, laughing. “You’re gone. Snatched up by a horde of spiders.”

“Lucky me,” you said, before swinging the pipe out, narrowly missing his head.

“Are you really happy here?” he asked, dodging another blow. “Think of it as me taking your life off your hands.”

“Oh, well when you put it like that.” And then you lunged, iron pipe suspended between your hands as you crashed down on top of him. His head ricocheted from the pipe to the floor to the pipe again, and he kicked out beneath you, sending you tumbling.

When you regained your senses, he had jumped on top of you, pinning you to the ground.

“You’re not getting anything for father’s day,” you said, kicking out your feet enough to leave him unstable for a moment, but not enough to get him off you.

And then he started chanting.

“Is that fucking Latin?” you asked, squirming beneath him.

He continued, eyes distant, not focused on anything at all. As he chanted, the edges of his form glitching in and out, there was a moment where you blinked and found yourself staring down at your own body, falling limper and limper beneath Sam’s hold.

You couldn’t say anything. You couldn’t call out and beg your body to keep fighting. You could only watch.

You saw the flash of orange light cast sinister angles around the room before you saw the portal, and by the time Miguel had stepped through, you were back in your body with a sharp gasp.

He’d ripped Sam off of you in the matter of a second, tossing him across the floor like a rag-doll. He spared you one glance—chest heaving, teeth bared—before he launched himself off his haunches and directly on top of Sam.

“Yep, I see the half spider part now,” you said, kicking your feet against the floor to get as far from the fight as you could. You braced yourself against the nearest wall, watching as Sam clawed back at Miguel, something so desperately futile in the way he fought, his face already wrenched with defeat.

But he was holding Miguel off. He wouldn’t keep him at bay for long, but perhaps, just as long as he needed. Because, with Miguel on top of him, he started chanting again.

“No,” you said, crawling closer. “Shut him up. He’s trying to—”

But Miguel couldn’t hear you, he was too invested in landing blow after blow, ignoring the Latin curses whispered in between each one. You looked around, reaching for the iron pipe still rolling on the floor beside you.

It was another adrenaline moment, one you’d never be able to describe in detail. You thought you could remember shouting a warning. You could vaguely see Miguel ducking out of the way. But the image of driving an iron pipe down into your father’s skull was one you’d never forget.

It stopped the chanting.

You and Miguel barely had a chance to glance at each other before portals started opening up all around you, the flickering orange light making it seem like the room was slowly burning. In a lot of ways, it was.

🕷

“Follow the light,” said Miguel, waving a flashlight in your eyes.

“I don’t have a concussion,” you said. “You have bruised knuckles and possibly a broken rib, but I am absolutely fine.”

He clicked off the light, simply staring at you, the both of you sat on your own bed in your own room. He’d wanted to take you to the med bay, but you quietly admitted you couldn’t stand being around all the spiders who’d just witnessed the aftermath of you killing your father. Or, at least, the body your father was in.

Miguel shook his head. “I can’t believe I didn’t know. I can’t believe I played right into his hands.”

“He had a long time to plan this,” you said.

“And I’ve had a long time to catch him.” He stood up from his spot beside you, running a hand through his hair. “He would have stolen your body and disappeared without a trace.”

“Is it true?” you asked. “About me being immune to all the glitching?”

He shrugged. “I’m ashamed to say I didn’t even think about you when we picked you up,” he said. “All I knew was that your universe was collapsing, and you were at the center of it. If I stopped to think, I would have realized the lack of glitching was strange. But I didn’t.”

“So, I was right,” you said.

He pulled back the curtain on your window, looking down at the view below. “I was so caught up in my mission to save the multiverse, that I forgot it was made up of people.” He looked back at you, stiff shoulders falling at the sight of your soft, kind eyes watching him. “I’m sorry.”

“I know,” you said, before looking down at your lap. “Is your offer still on the table?”

He blinked at you for a moment. “What?”

“To go home,” you said, lifting your eyes to his. He could’ve broken down right there, but his swallowed whatever words threatened to come out and simply nodded.

You smiled before looking back down at your lap. “I’d like to go home, Miguel.”

🕷

Epilogue

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara angst #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara imagine #spiderman 2099 #across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse fanfiction

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m1d-45 · 2 years ago

Text

my take on sagau lore / logistics

summary: sagau lore! includes you the creator, self-awareness, khaenri’ah, celestia, literally everything i could think of

word count: ~4.1k

-> warnings: spoilers for literally everything bar the sumeru archon quests. khaenri’ah lore, kaeya + albedo lore, celestia lore, archon quests, all of it. i ramble and stray off topic and swear while doing so.

-> lowercase intended. forgive the format pls

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie

< masterlist >

ok, so, just off the top of it, let’s address the largest problem with this au, specifically my genre of it:

how can teyvat be real if it’s a game?

great question! the answer is that it’s both.

i haven’t thought this through entirely, only enough that i personally can suspend my disbelief about the fics i read, but the way i see it is that you, the creator, made teyvat a billion (or more idk) years ago. you made the people—or the animals, if you still wanna subscribe to evolution—the lands, the waters and the mountains. everything was carefully pulled and molded by your hands, your influence stretching to how the wind blew.

(that’s because the god who controls it wants your attention so badly but whoooo that’s cultish territory)

anyway. fast-track past the archon war, yeah? after that was sorted, you began to hand out visions, personally at first before assigning celestia to do so. there were simply too many people, and you could not judge them all. it would not be fair.

so you didn’t.

but i’d be lying if the archon war didn’t take a toll on you. you’d been influencing it from the sidelines, carefully making sure as few innocents were harmed as possible, trying to keep the terrain intact. you were technically fighting, but on the side of teyvat itself.

(it loved you for it. every blade of grass and leaf on a stem sung your praises.)

micromanaging like that, across an entire planet, let alone trying to simultaneously set up the constellations you wanted for vision holders… you’re exhausted.

now, you could, in theory, just burrow down into the heart of the earth and rest, but that felt… impersonal, almost. you still wished to look after your world, you just wanted to have a little less responsibility while you did so.

so you left the planet, momentarily, leaving that entire universe behind, and made another. it was, admittedly, not your best work, worse than even the rest planets you tried before teyvat, but you were tired. you half-heartedly scattered some resources, salted the water, and placed the beginnings of life. with a final goodbye to celestia, you allowed your soul to rest in the core of this new planet you called ‘earth.’

now, you weren’t just going to sit there, no. as the people above lived, oblivious to the god resting in the molten core, your subconscious pulled some strings. not enough to influence wars—so many wars, so much cruelty and bloodshed—or any major occurrences, but enough to shift some small details around. these people would start a company. this game would be launched. and when you, your soul, had finally recovered from the ordeal of managing a whole planet, a child would be born.

you knew mortal minds had a hard time conceptualizing the divine, let alone dealing with the knowledge that they were one, so you made the executive decision to remove your memory. call it a product of your pity, but you decided you’d live a human life here before returning to teyvat. the world’s time difference shouldn’t make it that much longer for your lovely followers, only about a year or so, so it would be fine. you set up some dominoes, then allowed yourself to be mortal when they fell.

bad call. turns out you shouldn’t try and fudge space-time when you’re overworked and burnt out. the time dilation ended up being reversed, meaning an average life of 80 years was 4,800 years for your followers.

still, not all was lost! you, human, came into contact with a device, came into contact with advertisements from a company you, god, had a heavy hand in. the world you had loved carefully recreated, admittedly with far less detail and nuance, but what could you expect of the technology at the time?

as you downloaded the game, a final domino fell into place. the traces of divinity in your blood bled into your machine, turning the screen from a screen, and into a portal.

billions of billions of light years away, exiting this universe and entering another, two twins approached your world. they had witnessed you build it all but frowned at your lack of presence. their world, one of many that you had also crafted, still was visited by you from time to time, but this... where had you gone? were your people okay?

they approached, only to be stopped by one of celestia’s guards. boiling red cubes stung the air, lashing at their sides as she—the sustainer, she said—fought. the two drew back, sharing a look, and when they dove-

your light filled the air, time seeming to slow to a crawl. your chosen traveller sucked in a breath, feeling the familiar aura envelop them. even as their twin was swallowed, as their stomach opened into a pit and their heart crumbled, as gravity took hold of their suddenly much weaker form, you were there.

and so your journey in teyvat began once more, this time not as the creator, but as the creation.

that’s the basic lore down. yes, i know ‘basic’ took nearly 1k words on its own, but oh well. anyway, now onto some other details outside of that, such as….

the raiden shogun!

the visions were signs of your favor—not that the comman man knew that, but the gods did—so why would she ever confiscate them? simple; after you had started giving out visions, you had first passed the duty to celestia, and then… left. it’s reasonable, in her mind, that the visions were sapping at your energy, keeping you away even longer. she hoped, in a twisted sort of desire, that she could hasten your return. celestia had tried to stop her, stopping giving out electro visions, but it wasn’t enough. other visions were still in her lands, and she needed to remove them. if only on her isle of eternity, anything harming you would not be allowed.

the tsaritsa!

ok, i admit, i’m not sure how much of what i’m about to say is canon. i watch too much game theory to be 100% sure that this is Actual Lore, but… whatever. so the tsaritsa is collecting all these gnoses, right? the gods’ connection to celestia? just… kinda taking them, collecting these connections, weakening celestia so she can take it down. her reasoning is very similar to ei’s, in that you created celestia and imbued it with some of your power. however, you must have accidentally given too much, wanting them to thrive, and had weakened yourself. so, she figures, by taking down celestia, she can restore you your strength!

but wait, you ask, why not do a vision hunt decree like the shogun? simple! you gave out visions before you involved celestia, so they clearly aren’t the problem. besides, she thinks there’s a lovely poetic quality to taking down celestia with soldiers bearing weapons they awarded.

delusions!

it’s people sabotaging their health to pretend their strength is god-given, not much changes in this au. there’s implications between it and the tsaritsa’s motives for gnosis-hunting—notably if she’s taking down celestia because your strength was drained, why drain the strength of her people—but that’s ~not my problem~

morax?

morax!!! silly boy. anyway, he doesn’t see any problem with stepped down as an archon, if that’s your worry. after all, you yourself left, letting the people run themself, so…. surely he could—should, even—do the same. he feels maybe a bit bad about leaving liyue without anything, but soothes himself knowing they don’t know you’re gone. most mortals don’t, really. but in a similar vein…

venti!

venti feels the same way. if anything, his conviction is even stronger. you left your people—not entirely, admittedly, but still, you did—so he should be able to as well. he knew you had left celestia in your wake, but he had left the knights! and surely, to be overly-controlling was worse, right? you had allowed decarabian to fall, so you must not want dictators(a good thing, as he doesn’t know how he’d handle you going against one of his most core virtues).

celestia!

for the sake of the au, celestia will be kinda proxy rulers of teyvat. i know there’s probably some lore out there suggesting otherwise, likely something in the 3.2-3.3 archon quests, but i haven’t done those and so it can’t be held against me. anyway, you’re tired after the war right? so you decide, as plan A, to create celestia as a council of proxy rulers, to enact your ideals—the heavenly principles—and take care of things. this goes south, because the act of creating celestia drains even more of your strength, and you really hadn’t taken a break since you started creating teyvat so maybe it’s time to pick up plan B off the back burner…

(in celestia’s opinion, burrowing into the earth should have been plan B. taking a nap in a gilded palace should have been plan C. leaving the planet entirely was the nuclear option.)

paimon!

OOOOHHHHH BOYYYYY the emotions i have about this little fairy aidjwrkfkkds

anyway. the way i see it, she’s a manifestation of the remaining divine energy in your body/teyvat. pick your favorite, the end result is the same: she’s attached to your traveller, to you, your device. she can vaguely sense the buttons you have—which is why the tutorial changes across platforms—and loves whenever you open the paimon menu, because she can bask in your light all the more. off camera, her and the traveller gush about you. canon, i said so.

anyway, she’s the one that gives us the ability to time travel so the way i see it, she has to be at least a little divine, or be able to wield power of that strength.

take a shot every time i say strength this fic

i have some feelings about the time mechanic, most notably that it��s likely an alteration of the (very scuffed) time dilation system you implemented, but i’m writing this during school hours and can’t really be bothered with trying to rationalize that. for now, just know that Its a Thing That Exists.

co-op!

if we’re operating under the ideal that your game is the only one self-aware, then how does co-op work?

um… it doesn’t—

ok ok ok uh there’s two interpretations you can go with, of which i don’t have a favorite:

Option 1: when you go to co-op, your (self-aware) characters are transported into the digital world of your companion. they’re confused, because everything seems flat and empty of detail and there’s these weird bars above enemies and HOLY SHIT IS THAT ME???

they eventually gather that this is a false recreation of teyvat, one run by another person. whether or not they can see the chat is up to you. umm regarding farming and stuff: that means tackling the inventory, which… i’ll talk about that later, i swear-

Option 2: when you enter co-op, you leave teyvat. your vessels go back to their places—again, i’ll touch on that later, promise—and your aura leaves. paimon’s the only constant, but that’s mostly because she follows you or the traveller at all times (if you don’t have your traveller on your team… wait a few paragraphs pls). she is fascinated by the digital world, more so of the replicas of your vessels within it. maybe she tells the traveller of it when they have time.

they’re kinda similar, boiling down to whether or not you want your vessels to have a cosmic-horror level freak out at the fact that that’s them. i don’t have a favorite, and usually kinda fluctuate between the two whenever it’s convenient.

the inventory!

the inventory!!! arguably the most convenient system in teyvat, of which my answer is wildly inconvenient.

the basic principle of it is that it’s a pocket dimension, much like the one paimon vanishes into. it’s a very cool pocket dimension, with a menu and filtration systems, but that’s all it is. it preserves the quality of food, it keeps things from burning each other(i. e. mist flower corollas and flaming flower stamens are right next to each other, yet the quality of both never dwindles), and generally keeps things frozen in a sort of stasis. i like to think that vessels with a good sense of detail can pick up on an odd taste/texture to the food if it’s been in there a while, with the effect lessening as the food quality(suspicious → delicious scale) and level (stars) increases, but it really doesnt impact anything all that much.

regarding co-op: this is where things get blurry. if the inventory is a pocket dimension, and co-op is fake…. the best option is to, once more, chalk it up to divinity. whether yours, as you pick them from the digital world, of the remains of your aura in teyvat, when you return.

(another option that doesn’t work as well is thinking of the inventory as a tally, as in there’s a number of items you have and when you access it the number goes down and it summons / creates the item. the number is a representation of the power stored for that specific item- kinda like the omni-ubiquity nets, i guess? anyway, this is kinda pushing things, and though i don’t prefer it, it definitely can be useful to think about in some situations, such as an imposter au where you(reader) can draw energy from the inventory via sacrificing food or supplies. that’s really cool actually wtf-)

KHAENRI’AH HOW COULD I FORGET KHAEN-

so. khaenri’ah.

….i don’t know a lot about the lore of khaenri’ah.

[one wiki check and a lot of deleted ranting later]

khaenri’ah was a godless nation. it didn’t have a god ruling over it, it didn’t have a god influencing or building it, it didn’t have a - oh my god khaenri’ah is the nation of hubristic greed.

sorry i had a revelation mid-sentence there: to clarify, khaenri’ah was built entirely by people. they may (read: did) worship a god, you, but refused to allow you to meddle with their nation. that was their creation. you could have all of teyvat—and they would give you some of their crops to try and satisfy you—but you could not have their nation. they lived underground, away from your holy light and the overbearing gaze of celestia, and in the dark of a cave with only the earth as their witness, they began to learn khemia. they began to learn how to create, how to mimic your power. theirs was more transmutation, less pure creation, but it was so close to it that rhinedottir let it get to her head. she started her program, created durin and [REDACTED]- sorry, subject two (have i mentioned how much i hate he doesn’t have a name? fucked up fr fr). eventually, finally, after many tests and trials and rifthounds, with abyssal magic beginning to stain her hands, she created synthetic life.

the port on its neck sealed into a shimmering star, crystal blue eyes fluttering open, chalk ribs expanding as it took a breath. gold watched with rapt attention, pen falling from her hand.

she’d done it.

high on joy, she kept going, neglecting her new creation, herself, neglecting even basic safety, and eventually, she had toppled the pride of man.

khaenri’ah fell.

this allows for khaenri’ans such as dainslef, albedo, and kaeya to all know of and worship you—important, since kaeya is a character we’re automatically given—while still being bitter and jaded over khaenri’ah. this keeps as much of the lore in-game as intact as possible, with the only big difference being that khaenri’ah dedicated itself to you, but it would not be influenced by you. it was toppled by its own hubris, its desire to be divine without ever worshipping the god that made them too much for mortal men to handle. they don’t hate you, and in fact the fall of their nation has made it clear that they should have respected you more. they don’t blame you for it, as it was their own desire that brought them down, but they are a little more aware of the power of a god.

FAQ!!

i don’t have the traveller on my team, how does that work lore-wise?

excellent question! i…. don’t really know—

the way i see it, this is mostly a problem attached to the concept of ‘parties’ in the first place(again, please put a pin in the idea, we’re almost there). paimon is always with us, but the traveller… since they don’t have ‘a place to be’ as with your other vessels, as you were with them from the start… you could say that they’re always with you. silently watching from the realm of stars just outside of reality, watching you level your characters and give them strength. they wish you could pay more attention to them, but they know that teyvat is your prize creation, the people within it your most beloved. while you had encouraged them and their sibling to traverse your other worlds, it made sense that you’d want to empower these people first. your choices were.. odd, but you seemed happy, mostly, so they were too. ultimately, they are just another of your creations, and they want you to be happy just as the others do.

what happens when the game closes?

this connects to both the party system and the ‘realm of stars’ i mentioned in the traveller’s section. now, the personal belief i subscribe to is that it’s… another pocket dimension sorry—

akcnkwdjdkd ok so you know in the character menu how the background is all hazy and star-like and tinted the color of their element? i think the hydro’s have bubbles floating around but i have just spent too much time in enkanomiya-

anyway, that’s a ✨separate dimension✨. i imagine its like a line, where your characters are arranged like the bar on the side (top if you’re a pc gamer). characters can look over if they wish, though that’s dependent on some other factors (i know this is already long but i’ll elaborate on this later). the poses for weapons, artifacts, etc. are all forced on them, like strings on a puppet—war flashbacks for my scaramouche. they’re tugged into place, and stay like that. your mains are used to you fussing about with their artifacts, and have learned to simply rest into the feeling. why shouldn’t they, after all?

ANYWAY this is getting long. so when you’re in the field, your characters fall away save your party members, who move to the odd starry landscape of the party menu. there’s a large screen, which allows them to see like it’s your screen, almost. there’s a health bar, they can see the energy, and though that’s about it the important bit is that they can still see the character on field and the battle around them. this way they know what to expect, and where to aim, where to brace for an impact because sorry, they have the most hp and you need to tank this hit. when the game closes, you swap team members, etc. they are transported back to where they were prior to being on your team. now, for those you don’t utilize as often, they aren’t fully pulled into the character menu, as this would cause complications, but they are vaguely aware of when you open it. this way they can prepare in the rare case you switch to them for whatever reason.

additionally, when you shut down genshin, the traveller takes your characters’ place. they hold your place, often using the time to catch up with paimon and eat, both talking about their separate perspectives on your battle. paimon from the outside, watching the vessels switch in a shower of gold sparks, and the traveller from the inside, watching them lean on each other when their health was low and swap encouraging phrases during a tough fight. the traveller can’t really move all that much, but they don’t have to stay very still—what’s the chance you’ll notice they’re facing the wrong direction anyway?—which is good since they may have to defend themself against any enemies wandering in. if they’re off your team and unbuilt, it’s a little difficult, but between their status as an outlander and paimon’s influence, it’s not that big of a hassle.

(sorry this one’s real long but this is the concept i spent the most time developing. i have a very very long albedo fic where this mechanic is center stage so i have a lot of junk stored in my mind abt it)

what about friendship levels?

friendship levels!!! in-game they’re a metric of how long/much a character is with you, and it’s the same in sagau. the higher a character’s friendship, the more of your aura they emit by proxy, since they’re… in the absolute kindest way possible, you know how shoes have to be broken in -? yeah—

the harsh tugs of your device commanding them to move softens into a gentle guide, but they’re so in-tune with your playstyle that they go ahead of the strings, attacking slightly quicker. a high-friendship team has synergy like no other, the characters swapping just before you actually press the button to do so, their elemental reactions booming brighter, skills and bursts doing that much more damage just because they know what their doing by heart. they’re certain they could replicate it even without you, though they’d never dare, and your main sometimes finds themself repeating your usual rotation in their head to help them. swap, skill, swap, skill, burst, they mutter, their fingers tapping along where the buttons would be as they try to puzzle something out. swap, skill, swap, passive, swap, the familiar routine providing comfort.

how does the concept of being “self-aware” work?

lovely question.

…

it doesn’t.

jsksskdjd i feel like a software developer— ANYWAY-

google defines self-aware as “having conscious knowledge of one's own character and feelings”, which isn’t (inherently) the case. in relation to video games, it’s usually something along the lines of “this game is aware it’s a game” which doesn’t work since, as we’ve established, teyvat isn’t a game.

in this case, being self-aware means recognizing that you are operating through a device. it means knowing that you are not controlling them directly, that you instead use a proxy. it means, for characters like albedo, recognizing the sticky binds of code that limit his movements, it means registering that you are still far, far away, and that you only feel this close because of your device. it means, for some such as, say, diluc, there wasn’t a reason why kaeya was a vessel before him. it means knowing that their god is still lost, and knowing that they have to ensure you come back safely.

and that’s about it! discarding some icky topics such as the semantics of an isekai (which boils down to tapping into the divinity stored in your device so it doesn’t really matter much either way) and the abyss (which i don’t know enough about lore-wise, sorry) that’s everything i keep in mind when i write my genshin impact self-aware works!

if you have any further questions, feel free to either reply or send in an ask, or check out my masterlist if you want to see these concepts in practice.

have a good one!

#*shakes you awake* girl wake up midas is ranting about shit nobody cares about again!! i know i know wake up already!!!!#not fishing for compliments i just genuinely don’t think anybody was wondering about my take on sagau logistics. who would??#genshin sagau #sagau #genshin #genshin impact #self aware genshin #genshin self aware au #sagau zhongli #sagau venti #sagau tsaritsa #sagau kaeya #sagau diluc #sagau albedo #albedo #kaeya #zhongli #venti #rhinedottir #subject two #worldbuilding #paimon #sagau paimon #celestia #dainslef #sagau dainslef #this whole thing is me going ‘i haven’t really thought this through but’ and then ranting for 300 words on the topic—#anyway i genuinely do hope this clears up sagau for some people. keeping this in my head makes it easier to read others’ works because i-#-have all the questions already answered in my head. really helps with suspension of disbelief /gen #please leave your takes in the replies/weblogs if you see this my curiosity is never dated

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bowandcurtsey · 2 years ago

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Idk if you do crackfics but if you don't feel free to ignore this but I'd like to send in a request for headcanons for Fuego, William and nozel and their s/o making them take care of their firstborn baby. Stuff like cleaning their diapers, changing their clothes or making them burp just any baby things and the baby pees on them or throws up on them? Fuego and nozel are royals so they probably have nannies to do these things but s/o wanted the daddies to bond with their baby cuz they're always busy and things

I just love your works so much. Sending Lots of love and positive vibes for you❤️❤️

!DAD BLACK CLOVER BOYS! I love it, hehe (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ

Thank you for sending them love and positive vibes huehue, I'm happy to find time to write. I was reading the Manga earlier, I just cant wait for this arc to end. I'm feeling so tired from all the fighting. ):

Characters: Fuegoleon | Nozel | William x f! reader tw: unchecked, baby mess (pee poop vomit) s/n: son's name d/n: daughter's name

Fuegoleon Vermillion

He Is hands on whether you had a nanny or not. It was only if he had no choice he would get the nanny to help.

Well your husband was a really busy man afterall, so he had to be away a lot of the time, so he was feeling a little sad about missing out on his first born's growth journey.

Thus, whenever he could, he would be doing everything. Changing clothes for her, picking out the cutest dresses or something that matches your outfit.

He wasn't really good at it, but he would change their diapers too. He didn't mind getting poop stained on his hands, or his shirt stained with pee.

"there's gonna come a day when I wouldn't be able to change her diapers anymore, honey."

You weren't complaining, cause you'll have time to rest and do your own things.

He'll have his blunders here and there, like the time when he played with the d/n too close after meal time and she vomited all over his hair.

He was really apologetic about it but d/n was smiling and laughing from all the fun, you just couldn't help but laugh as well.

As long as Fue was around when she cried, he would get up from whatever he was doing to tend to her. He would cradle her, play with her, read to her until she calmed down.

You were glad for all the help, the only downside was that he didn't ever want to leave her. Even for date nights, he would want to bring her along and sometimes it becomes family nights.

You would have to give him the eye before he would leave d/n with the nanny.

Also, 10/10 over protective dad.

Nozel Silva

He questioned on why it was necessary for him to do the cleaning up in the beginning. Because "we have the nannies for that"

And that you both could just focus on feeding, teaching, playing with s/n.

Well it was your first born and you didn't want to miss out on anything so you still did the changing and cleaning half of the time.

I mean, you still counted your blessings that you had Nann(ies) to assist you, since it was really taxing for your body after birth and you had to recover and take care of yourself AND take care of an infant at the same time. Shit was NOT EASY.

Also, your husband question whether it would really help with bonding since he never remembered his mom or dad for cleaning up after him when he was an infant. Not like anyone could remember anyway.

You kinda felt he made sense.

Until you saw Nozel unable to pacify his son and had the nannies to calm the baby.

"It's that kind of bond, Nozel." you were arguing with him about it one day.

Well, because you got him wrapped around your pinky, he had to do this hands on clean up stuff. And only did he realise that it wasn't that bad afterall.

He knew how his son liked his diapers worn. When he would get a nappy rash, when he would pee or poop.

Well, once he was changing the diaper and s/n peed, and it got all over his shirt. You could tell Nozel was a little annoyed but he continued changing his diaper and cleaning up.

Then he went to change himself. He carried his son in his arms after, looking at him smile and giggle. Nozel pinched his cheeks.

"That bond, right?" you winked at him. And Nozel finally understood.

William Vangeance

He wants to be a hands on dad but he was really really busy. But whenever he could, he would definitely be hands on.

In fact, he holds the baby too much that you'll complain and lament from time to time, that he doesn't spend time with you anymore.

But deep down, you knew that it was because he didn't want to miss the precious times where they grew up so quickly.

But because he spends so little time with his infant child, he does get a little clumsy from time to time.

He would have the diapers the wrong way, and ended up having to shift d/n multiple times, making her more uncomfortable and thus, making her cry even more.

He would be confused on which milk bottle to use and how much to feed. Sometimes, d/n would cry because she was still hungry.

Well, eventually he always used the bigger milk bottle, so you had a pretty chubby baby, haha

He would also get the pyjamas and clothes the wrong side SO OFTEN.

"okay honey, don't they button at the back? But there's one that buttons at the back?"

With all the blunders and questions he's asking you, you hardly get much rest even when he's taking over the baby.

Sometimes you were just too exhausted to correct him and if it wasn't life endangering, you'd just sleep with your baby with her clothes inside out. Or her going out socks. Well, who's looking, right?

It's okay because it's all about the bonding at the end of the day. Whenever you see him smile to your giggling daughter, everything was okay.

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afictionaladventure16 · 2 years ago

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I rlly like your 'taking it all in' series. U rlly know how to pull heartstrings 😭. I was wondering if you could write a short piece or something about the reader and her estranged mother where they do meet or the mother gets in contact with the reader and it's a pretty angsty moment? Idk just a thought 😌

Taking It All In (Pedro Pascal x Daughter!Reader)

Pt. III

A/N: hmmm a gif of a young pedro pascal... whatever could that mean? Anyway, thank you for your kind words! I hope you enjoy this lil angsty but fluffy Part 3!

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

Previously

Word Count: 3,936

Rice, that was all you needed. It was all your dad sent you to the store for. You didn’t understand why this man would forget the main ingredient in a dish, but then you were the same way, so you understood in some way.

You had your head down, looking at your phone, reading your last text message from your dad. You had texted him making sure that rice was all he needed, you felt like you were waiting forever for those three little dots to stop moving.

You felt the body of another person colliding against you, “Oh! Sorry!” you exclaimed as you looked up at the person. “I was so distracted with…” you trailed off as the woman you had just bumped into turned around.

“It’s alright!” It was her. Your mother. Of all places, she was right in front of you in a store you always shopped at. You wondered how many times you had been in the same room as her and didn’t even know it. “You alright?” she asks, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“Y-Yeah,” you said.

“Mom! Mom! Can I have these please?” A little girl ran up to her holding up a box of cookies. Your little sister.

“Oh, I don’t know, what do you think your father would say?”

“I think he’d say yes,” she said with a huge grin.

You had to get out of there. You placed the bag of rice on a nearby rack. She didn’t even recognize you.

You walked out of the store, you took in a deep breath as your heart pounded like a jackhammer against your ribcage. The sounds of the cars passing were washed out by your heartbeat.

You need to get home.

You began to run home, putting every little ounce of energy into your legs. Thankful that home was only a block away.

Only a block away, your thoughts traveled back.

You made it to the building, and you felt the walls begin to close in as you walked into the building. You rushed over to the elevator doors, continuously pressing the button.

You couldn’t recall hearing the elevator door ding, nor could you recall getting inside your floor.

All you heard were muffled voices, you leaned against the door. You closed your eyes, the jackhammer still at play.

Pedro had heard the door closing, he had been calling your name for the past minute but was met with no response. He walked over to the front door, only to be met with you sitting against it, eyes closed, body shaking. “Cariño, que te pasa?” He rushed over to you, kneeling down next to you. But you didn’t say a word, you broke into a sob. Pedro didn’t say anything as he pulled you into an embrace.

“I saw her,” you began to say.

“Who?”

“Mom, I saw her,” Pedro didn’t know what to say, his mind fumbled for words while his heart ached to hear one of his deepest fears. His heart was still healing, learning to mourn the loss of something that would never come true. “She didn’t even recognize me,” you sobbed.

Pedro couldn’t help but wonder if it would have been better to have lied to you. To have said that your mother never said any of those words the day you were born. Maybe to even saying that your mother was never present, would it have been easier?

Maybe it would have been easier on you, but surely it would have been more painful for him. Having to recall the day you were born and the days that followed leading up to her leaving, and then having to tell you that none of it ever happened. Like it was nothing. Like she never mattered.

Pedro looked at you, she could have never mattered, she gave him you.

It was a gloomy day, Pedro had a soft spot for gloomy days. He began movie marathons on gloomy days and he was excited to start a movie marathon with his girlfriend.

“Honey, I’m home!” Pedro yelled out as he walked into the apartment. He walked into the kitchen, putting away the snacks for later. Gabriela walked into the kitchen, holding something in her hands. Pedro wasn’t paying much attention to what she was doing, he had heard her footsteps, “I was thinking,” he began to say. “We start with Psycho and then the shinning, but I would really lik-” he stopped mid-sentence, noticing that Gabriela wasn’t even looking at him. “Gabriela, que te pasa? Por que te miras tan triste?” (What’s up, why do you look so sad) He asked as he walked over to her.

“Pedro, tengo unas noticias,” she began. (I have some news).

“Que? Is it your scholarship?” He asked, although Pedro was done with college, Gabriela was still working on her degree. She had a few more years to do to get her Ph.D.

“No, Pedro,” she said softly. She held up the little stick that was in her hand, showing the two little pink lines.

“What’s this?” He asked as he looked it over.

“I’m pregnant.”

He couldn’t believe it, he wasn’t sure if he should cry or jump for joy. Having a kid was one of his biggest dreams, it was something he had hoped to have in the future, but that was the future when he was settled in his career.

“W-what?” he asked in disbelief.

Gabriela felt tears well up in her eyes, “I’m pregnant,” she sobbed. She sat down on one of the chairs in the small dining room, “What are we going to do, Pedro?”

Pedro sat down beside her, he didn’t know. He felt like he was still a baby himself trying to figure out this god-forsaken world. It didn’t help that he had just gotten a new roommate, Oscar, who was also a struggling actor.

But he didn’t want to tell Gabriela something she didn’t want to hear, if anything Pedro felt hopeful, he could make it work. “It’s okay,” he whispered as he pulled her into an embrace, “We’re going to take it one day at a time.”

“But, Pedro, what about your career?”

Pedro held Gabriela’s face in his hands, “One day at a time, Mi Amor.” He gave her a small smile, “And whatever you decide to do, I support it.”

Gabriela placed her hand on her belly, she had always wanted to become a mother. She never imagined it would be so soon, but sometimes the best gifts came when you least expected them to.

“Pedro!” Gabriela yelled from their room.

“Yes?” He yelled back.

“It’s time,” Gabriela said from the doorway.

Pedro stopped in his tracks. Shit. Everything he once knew about what to do at this time flew out the window. He looked at Gabriela who stood at the doorway, hand on her belly, eyes widening. “A-Are you sure?”

She groaned in pain as her contractions began, “Does it look like I’m joking?” Pedro shook his head, he then quickly ran around the apartment looking for the go bag. Which Gabriela found in the closet near the front door.

“Okay!” Pedro said trying to reassure himself, “we got this!”

Gabriela felt every nerve in her body, did they really got this? She didn’t know, but at that moment she was beginning to rethink everything.

Up until that moment, everything felt like a dream and now it was beginning to really set in for her. They were about to become parents. They would no longer only be responsible for themselves but for another life and that scared the shit out of her.

Pedro drove them safely to the hospital, he was at her side at all times. He wanted to make sure she was comfortable.

“Are you still sure about this?” She asked as she laid down on the hospital bed, after minutes of being poked and prodded by nurses and doctors they finally had some time alone. It was the waiting game right now.

“What do you mean?” Pedro asked.

She sighed, “Are you still sure you want this?”

“A family?”

“All of it.”

“What are you trying to say, Gabriela?” Pedro’s heart began to race, he was excited about everything, but of course, there were moments where Gabriela was hesitant in the beginning so he learned to not get his hopes up. Yet, that was at the beginning, it was when they were both scared of the future.

Gabriela opened up her mouth to speak, but another nurse walked in before she even had the chance, “Nevermind,” she whispered.

Gabriela would never get the chance to say what she really wanted to. She would never say that she thought about adoption, but she didn’t want to give up her baby at the same time. She had felt a bond with her baby, even if she had yet to meet the baby. Nurses and doctors came and went every other minute, it was getting closer to the time for her to push.

Eventually, they took Gabriela and Pedro up to the delivery room. Pedro felt like throwing up the whole time, it was nerves he told himself, but only to himself. He didn’t dare mention any of it to Gabriela because she was going through greater pain.

“Okay, momma, we’re gonna need you to push with this next contraction, okay?”

Gabriela held onto Pedro’s hand, “Fuck,” she yelled as the contraction came. She pushed as best as she could. “Fuck you, Pedro!”

Pedro smiled, “you’re doing great, Mi Amor.” That caused Gabriela to groan in annoyance.

“You’re doing great, Gabriela!” the doctor encouraged, “We just need a few more pushes!”

Gabriela let out a deep breath, “I can’t.”

“Gabriela, mi amor, just a few more and we get our baby.”

She looked at Pedro, tears in her eyes, “I don’t want to do this,” she pleaded.

But the two of them were talking about different things and Gabriela knew that which is why she said it. She said it because she knew no one would understand what she really meant.

She cried out as another contraction came, pushing through it.

“I know, Gabriela,” Pedro said as he pushed some of her hair out of her face. “We’re almost there, okay?” he never let go of her hand, even if she wanted him to, he wouldn’t. He was blinded by love and she knew it.

Gabriela pushed through a few more contractions before the sound of crying rang out through the room. Pedro’s eyes lit up at the sight of his and Gabriela’s new baby.

“It’s a girl!” the doctor announced as he placed their new baby girl on Gabriela’s chest.

For a moment, everything Gabriela was so worried about had left.

“She’s everything,” Gabriela whispered in awe, “she’s so-”

“Beautiful,” Pedro said.

For a moment, everything felt okay.

But moments pass.

Pedro felt tears well up in his eyes, Gabriela looked up at him with a smile painted over her face, “Wanna hold her?”

He nodded before gently scooping up his baby girl in his arms, “Hi,” he whispered to the baby. “I’m your papi,” he began to say.

“Say cheese,” one of the nurses said, she held out the camera Pedro had bought for the occasion. The nurse was kind enough to take photos for them throughout the birth.

Pedro looked over at Gabriela, “she’s beautiful, just like her mother.”

Gabriela smiled softly, fading as Pedro’s attention turned towards the baby.

Pedro couldn’t keep his eyes off his baby even as the nurses took her to get checked on, he was right there watching every little thing. He was mesmerized by how two people could create such a beautiful baby.

“Y/N,” he whispered as he watched his baby sleep.

“That’s a pretty name,” Gabriela commented.

“You think so?” She nodded. “Y/N it is.”

“She needs a middle name too,” Gabriela smiled as she watched how mesmerized Pedro was. She had never seen him in such a new light. She wanted everything for him. She would give the whole world to him if she could.

As Pedro looked at his daughter, he felt like Gabriela had already given him the whole world.

Gabriela looked at the crying baby in front of her, she had heard how mothers couldn’t keep away from their babies. How they would always carry them or be near them, but all Gabriela wanted was to be away from her.

Over the past few weeks, Gabriela found it difficult to bond with the baby or to even hold her. Gabriela found it hard to be excited to be a new mother or even happy to have a healthy baby with the man she loved.

Loved. She wasn’t sure if she did anymore.

She wasn’t sure about anything, anymore.

She felt this was typical of her, once things began to become too real for her, she found a reason to leave. Life was becoming too real for her with Pedro and she was beginning to wonder when she would feel happy again.

“I can’t do this,” she whispered to herself. She held her head in her hands, and the sound of the babies crying grew louder and louder.

Pedro ran into the room, “Gabriela, mi amor,” he began as he swooped the baby up from the bassinet, “Todo esta bien?”

Gabriela looked up at Pedro in tears, “I’m tired, Pedro.”

Pedro sighed, gently rocking the baby back to sleep, “Let me take Y/N to my sisters for the day, you get some rest.”

Gabriela wanted more than just a day. Maybe a few days or a couple of weeks. She watched as Pedro grabbed some things for the day, it wasn’t easy to just get up and leave with a newborn.

“Thank you,” she smiled at Pedro as he planted a kiss on her cheek before leaving.

“Anything for you.”

She knew he meant it. He would do anything for her. She felt guilty for everything she had done to him and everything she will do, but she wanted to feel selfish. She wanted to feel happy. She hated feeling guilty.

She hated feeling depressed.

She had dealt with it too long and she didn’t want her daughter to see her this way.

She had to do something.

The only thing she knew to do. Leave.

Gabriela didn’t have much, to begin with, it was easy for her to pack everything in two suitcases and it didn’t take her long.

Before Gabriela left she knew she had to leave a note. She knew Pedro and their daughter deserved at least an explanation. She felt it was the least she could do.

It was almost dark when Pedro entered his apartment, “Amor,” he called out quietly as he carefully placed the baby carrier on the kitchen table. “I think mami’s asleep,” he said softly as he took the baby out of the carrier. “Let’s go see,” he said. He always spoke to the baby even if she didn’t respond, he just smiled at her as if she had.

Pedro was nervous to become a father, especially at a young age and with a challenging career, but the second he laid eyes on his baby girl he knew that he had just received the best gift in life.

Pedro walked into the bedroom, surprised to see that Gabriela wasn’t in bed. “Weird,” he said as he walked out of the bedroom. He thought that maybe Gabriela left to grab something from the store.

Before he could ponder some more, the baby in his arms began crying, “Alright, alright.” He walked over to the kitchen and began prepping a bottle of milk. He thought of himself as the fastest person to make a bottle of milk because he could do it in under a minute if he was awake enough of course.

He sat on the couch as he fed the baby. After a few minutes, the baby fell asleep. Pedro placed her in her bassinet before walking back out into the kitchen to start dinner. He opened the fridge, but something in the corner of his eye caught his attention.

Pedro closed the fridge and walked over to the counter where he saw a piece of paper. Pedro’s first thought was it was a note from Gabriela maybe explaining that she went to the store. For a moment, he thought it was pointless to even read it, but of course, he still did.

Pedro,

I’m sorry. I just couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t keep acting happy when I wasn’t. I love our daughter, but she deserves a mother who wants to be a mother. A mother who is actually happy. You both deserve better. I’m sorry.

Gabriela

Pedro’s heart sank, it was like his world had just turned upside down. Was it him? Was he the reason why Gabriela was no longer happy? Did he miss the signs?

Maybe he should’ve gotten up in the middle of the night a few more times to help out or maybe he should’ve taken the baby from her so she could rest more. He thought he was doing everything he could plus more.

The baby began to cry, pulling Pedro from his thoughts. He walked over to the bedroom where the bassinet was, he couldn’t help but smile at the little one.

“‘S alright,” he whispered as he picked her up. Tears welled up in his eyes as he gently rocked his baby back to sleep. “Papi’s got you,” he whispered.

He looked over at the now empty closet, he didn’t know how he didn’t see it at first. “We’re gonna be okay,” he reassured himself, even though a part of him was hopeful that Gabriela would come back.

Pedro pushed away his thoughts. The damage was done, nothing could be reversed even if he tried so hard to.

“Fuck,” you exclaimed, earning a small glare from your dad, he didn’t really like you to get in the habit of cursing. “Sorry, I just forgot my phone at the store.”

“I’ll go get it,” he offered, knowing that you didn’t want to take your chances on running into your mother again.

“Are you sure?”

He nods, “Why don’t you find us a movie to watch, I’ll be back in a few.”

Pedro walked out of the apartment. The store wasn’t far, so it only took him a few minutes to get there.

He walked up to one of the cashiers, “Hi, my daughter was just in here and she lost her phone. It’s an iPhone with a green case, it has some stickers on it, she said she lost it near the front. She left it with a bag of rice.”

“Do you by chance know what kind of stickers?” the cashier asked.

“Yeah, um, it’s a grogu sticker and an uh- moonknight sticker, I think there might be a Bucky Barnes sticker too.” The cashier nodded before talking into the walkie.

“I have someone looking for it right now.”

Pedro nodded, “I’m gonna be right back, I’m just gonna go grab something.” Pedro walked over to the aisle where the rice was, grabbing the bag he needed for dinner before making his way back over to the front. He grabbed a couple of bars of chocolate, your favorite chocolate of course because he knew that it probably couldn’t heal your heart, but it did help.

He placed the bag of rice and bars of chocolates at the register. “Pedro?” He heard a familiar voice.

He felt frozen, unsure if he should act like he didn’t know the person or turn around and act like nothing had ever happened between the two of them. He wanted to be the bigger person, he turned around, “Gabriela.”

“Wow, you look so good, how have you been?” She asked as she looked at the man in awe. He hoped she felt regret looking at him.

“Good,” he said as he looked around, he didn’t see her kids like you had mentioned. “What about you?”

She chuckled, “could be better, this is my second trip to the store in the last fifteen minutes.” Pedro didn’t say anything as he paid for his things. Gabriela cleared her throat, “So, um… how’s Y/N? She’s what twelve?”

Pedro scoffed in disbelief, “Fourteen.”

“Sorry, it’s just been so long, you know?”

Sometimes, it was better to not be the bigger person, “Here’s that phone, mister,” an employee said as he handed Pedro the phone.

Gabriela’s eyes widen as she saw the phone, she had seen it somewhere. “I’ll see you around, Gabriela,” he said as he thanked the employee and walked out of the store with his things.

“Pedro, wait!” Gabriela ditched her items at the counter, running after Pedro. “Pedro!”

Pedro turned around, “What, Gabriela?”

Gabriela sighed, “I’m sorry.”

“A little too late for apologies.”

“She was here earlier today, wasn’t she?” Pedro remained silent, “I didn’t mean for her to-”

“To what? See you with your new family?”

“Pedro, it isn’t like that,” Gabriela tried to explain.

“Then what is it like, Gabriela? Because to us, it looks like you just replaced us for someone better.”

“Pedro, I was depressed and I didn’t know what to do.”

“You could’ve told me,” Pedro hissed. He didn’t want to be mad at her for being depressed, he was angry because she never said anything and he was angry at himself for not trying harder to notice.

“I didn’t know how! You were so happy and you were so helpful, I didn’t want you to feel like you weren’t doing enough!”

“But you did it anyway, you made us feel that way by leaving.”

“Pedro, I fucked up, I know that. I spoke to my husband,” Pedro felt tears well up in his eyes, “we want to get to know Y/N and build something.”

“No,” he hissed. “You’ve done enough.”

“I don’t think that’s for you to decide, Pedro.”

Pedro walked up to Gabriela, “Trust me, Gabriela. You’ve done enough damage and I’ll be damned to see you do any more.” Gabriela remained silent, she felt defeated as she watched Pedro walk away. She knew that she had hurt her daughter, but she felt like she could fix it, but she didn’t know how hurt her daughter really was and how sometimes things can’t really be mended.

Pedro on the other hand, had the urge to punch a wall. He hadn’t felt anger like this in a long time. “Calma,” he told himself as he walked up to the apartment door. He took in a deep breath as he wiped away any evidence of tears on his face. He walked in with a big smile on his face, “Muñeca?”

“In here,” you called out from the couch.

Pedro walked over, tossing the chocolate bars on the coffee table.

“You got me chocolate?” You asked in disbelief. Your eyes were still red and puffy.

Pedro sat down beside you, pulling you in for an embrace and kissing the top of your head, “I love you, mija.”

“I love you too,” you returned the embrace.

Throughout the years, Pedro had dealt with many dark times, some because of Gabriela and some because of his career and family issues. if there was anything that brought him out of it, it was you. You were the reason why he was so happy and content with his life.

You are his reason to continue with the trials and errors of being an actor.

You are his reason.

And he wasn’t gonna let anyone take that away from him.

Pedro Pascal Taglist: @Sophieelizabeth01 @tracysnook @cilliansangel @change-the-world-someday @graciegoeskrazy @oggystine93 @t-stark35 @twkobii @picklehat3r @welcometomyworldwithoutrules @white-wolf-buckaroo @steadydragongalaxy @rooting4theantihero @soupinasock @Ilovehotdadsandshit

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gaygodlywriting · 2 years ago

Text

♡ Binnies Boobies ♡

• Pairing - Seo Changbin x Trans!M!Reader (M as in MALE, fem readers DNI)

• Genre - Angst + Fluff

• Warnings - Dysphoria, mention of surgery, scars, slight nudity ig, light swearing, you touch one of Binnies boobs

• Word Count - 1,248

• Writer - Felix

• Summary - After taking a shower, you find yourself staring at the mirror or more specifically, at the scars on your chest. Changbin comes in after not hearing anything from the bathroom in a while, and he finds a way to comfort you through another hit of dysphoria.

• A/N - First fic 💪, also reader is meant to be older then Changbin and taller then him (cause I'm taller and I feel like it fits more idk 😭)

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The knob for the hot water makes that annoying, loud, and squeaky noise it always does when you close the tap, ending the very long shower you had just took. You reach outside of the shower and grab the towel on top of the shelf, stepping out of the shower as you begin to start drying your hair. Probably not the safest idea, but you survived.

After getting your hair a bit more dry so it at least isn't dripping ice cold water down your back, you wrap the towel around your waist and make your way towards the sink, which happened to have a very large mirror right above it. Unfortunately, you and mirrors don't get along very well.

You had never been able to handle mirrors, even when you were a kid. Something always felt... off, whenever you looked in a mirror—or any reflective surface—as if the person you were looking at was a complete stranger. Even now, when you finally discovered who you truly were, you sometimes still felt like you're looking at a stranger. And, of course, when you finally look up and lock eyes with yourself in the mirror, the feeling comes back.

Well, you didn't necessarily lock eyes with yourself. You more so stared at the two scars on your chest from the surgery you had gotten about two years ago—the surgery that removed two certain body parts that were preventing you from being who you truly are. It was supposed to help you feel more comfortable and content in your body. But, so far, that hasn't happened. Not once. In fact, it's done the opposite. It's just made you feel like shit. Especially now, as you stare at the scars, reminded of the fact that you had to get surgery in order to get a flat chest instead of being born in the correct body.

An overwhelming amount of thoughts start to flood your head. Why do I have these scars? Why couldn't I have been born a boy? Why do I have to get surgeries and hormone therapy to be who I'm meant to be? Why am I not a real boy? Why do I have to be this way? Why was I born this way? Why do I deserve this? Why did I get the surgeries? Why do there have to be scars?

You couldn't focus on anything except staring at the scars, and the deafening sound of the thoughts in your head. You never noticed when your boyfriend, Changbin, knocked on the bathroom door before walking into the bathroom. He hadn't heard anything from the bathroom for quite a while, and he was concerned that you had gotten hurt or something. He had been knocking for about two minutes before deciding to go in. When he noticed you just standing there, staring into the mirror, he was confused at first.

"Y/N-hyung?" You give no reaction, as if you didn't hear him. "Hyung?" He tries again, this time walking up to stand next to you. "Hyung, are you okay?"

You don't react when he places his hand on your shoulder, just staring blankly at your chest in the mirror. By the way Changbin gently shakes your shoulder, you take a guess he's going to speak again. You cut him off before he opens his mouth. "Scars..." Your voice comes out just barely above a whisper. Changbin can hardly hear it, but even then, he can hear the slight pain in your voice. "Why do there have to be scars...?"

He immediately knows what you're talking about. It isn't the first time you've gone through this; and it most definitely won't be the last. However, although this isn't the first time Changbin has tried to help you, it's still a rather new thing he's not quite used to yet.

You had warned him, when you and him decided to make your relationship official, that things like this happened a lot with you. You had also said that he doesn't have to try and help you through it, you usually were able to handle it on your own, but he insisted he would be there for you whenever you needed him. Whenever Changbin had even a passing thought that you might be feeling bad about yourself, he always reminded you to please, please tell him so he can be there for you. But, of course, you never did. You always felt like a burden whenever you even attempted to reach out for help, it didn't matter to who it was.

"Hyung," Changbin starts, "come on, don't think like that." He looks around for a moment, as if making sure no one else was around. "Here."

Your eyes widen a bit when you notice your boyfriend beginning to take off his shirt. "Changbin, what the hell are you doing?"

Once he has fully taken off his shirt, he turns towards you a serious expression yet a silly grin on his face. "Look, I have boobs!" Changbin exclaims rather excitedly, tossing his shirt aside and spreading his arms so his chest is on full display. "They're huge too! And guess what?"

You can't help the small grin that makes its way to your face, no matter how hard you had tried to hide it. "What?"

Changbin smiles once again. "I'm still a man! No matter how big or small my boobies are, it doesn't make me any less of a man!"

You couldn't help but burst out laughing when Changbin said 'boobies'. "Oh, my God, Binnie-"

"Your chest is more flat then mine! Here, look," he moves to stand right next to you, lining up so the different sizes of your chests were prominent. "Touch one of my boobs, feel the difference!"

You raise an eyebrow at him. "Seriously?"

He nods. "Yeah! I don't mind!"

You can't help but laugh a bit, grinning at him as you reach a hand out to sort of lightly grip at Changbin's pec. "Okay, yeah, your boobs are huge."

Changbin grins up at you. "Told you. Plus, you have those cool battle scars on your chest! I want cool scars."

Your boyfriend smiles proudly when he hears you laugh rather loudly at his response. When he notices you had calm down just enough so you weren't moving very much, he takes his first opportunity to wrap his arms around your waist and bury his head in your shoulder. You were a bit caught off-guard at first, but soon hugged him back.

"I love you, Y/N, I love you. I'm here for you, whenever you need it, no matter what. Please don't forget it. Please tell me when you feel bad, physically or mentally. I want to help you, no matter what it is. Please let me help you."

It was odd. For the first time in your life, you got the feeling that you could trust him—believe what he said. You've heard the same and similar words said to you by your past boyfriends and past friends, never once have you believed them or trusted them. At least, you never trusted them as quick or as much as you trust Changbin right now, and you never believed them as quickly as you believe him. "Okay... I promise." You can't see it, but you know he's smiling.

After a few more moments of the hugging, you lightly nudge him away. "Alright, could you go back to the bedroom so I can get changed now?"

Changbin smiles. "Of course."

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taylortruther · 9 months ago

Note

idk if this is touched upon yet but i wonder if we'll find out more about the "keep score" theme she's been going over across albums in ttpd:

so it goes: you did a number on me, but honestly baby who's counting?

hoax: you knew you won so what's the point of keeping score?

long story short: no more keeping scores, now i just keep you warm

like was keeping track of the times they hurt/won arguments/whatever it is a thing in the relationship?

i always saw it more as taylor discussing how her own beliefs about love were changing. she used to think love would be burning red, a game where you had to scheme to have the upper hand, born to be a pawn in every lover's game etc. -- and while there was some cat and mouse in the beginning, she was confronting how those games were a defense mechanism because she was afraid of revealing too much and being left.

#so it goes #hoax #lss

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soso-chan126 · 1 year ago

Text

Ahkmenrah x fem! reader "Heimat"

I'm incredibly bored and watched some Night at the museum. Than it just happened that I thought a little bit (is indeed a rare process) and well I thought I could write a little oneshot for the pretty pharao. I couldn't help myself soo yeah. Btw the reader is in this oneshot from the time of the 20th century and to be more specific (is it written that way? idk well if not I am counting on all of you that you're going to tell me if it's right or not) the reader is from the time of the second world war and well there may be some topics that can trigger people. So I will put a trigger warning at the beginning. But well maybe not I'm not sure what I will include and so on and I also don't know how I make the reader so yeah... I will just go with the flow and write for my hearts content (not sure if I can put it that way). So before the beginning I write a quick definition for the word "Heimat". Ouhh and my little to long author notes are those little mini textes.

Heimat (german): "a place, where someone was born and grew up or is there long enough to have a feeling of being at home (is mostly a word for a place (and sometimes someone) that (or who) someone has a very special connection to)

translated out of the "Duden" can't say it's the right translation to the definition but well if someone of you has a better definition that's in english I'll gladly swap that with this one if you don't mind.

Well let's go then! ahh... btw I write about a female reader so yeah... if you want another one with gender neutral or a male reader ask right away and then I'll write it as soon as I can! I am not a native speaker so well it certainly has some errors and I'll correct them if you tell me where some are. Thanks and let's go!

TW: mentions of the holocaust, death, national socialists and some of the other stuff about the 2nd ww and also swearing but only lightly and once if I'm not mistaken

You have been warned. Reading on your own... I forgot the word. Eh... something like concequences ig but I'm not sure. It's way to late for writing tbh. And if you don't want to read the stuff with the 2nd ww then just skip the background. I will mark it for you guys.

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

Everyday I remember my cruel death. I am nothing but a little wax figurine that just resembles my once very much alive self but I still have her memorys. Even though I am only made out of wax and don't even have a real brain. She was a hero for a lot of people even though she was only a little artist that wasn't much known. She lived in nazi germany so she knew what was going on in germany. Even more because one of her friends worked for the terrifying camps. He told her a lot of things proudly and most of them weren't allowed to be told to zivilian people like herself. She took advantage of the knowledge and used it for her art. She showed the terrors of the war of the holocaust of everything.

She also started to try to change the world for the better and so she came into the view of the regime and their corrupted forces. She was able to trick them but well her luck ran out after she helped a spy of the united states. The spy learned a lot of things from her that were cultural differences between the two countries. With her help he was able to keep hidden. To his luck he looked also like a "typical german" probably had ancestors that were german people. However that was a reason why spys of the allies were basically searching for her so that she can also help them. She was bad at denying the need for help of other people. The spys that resided in her humble home also found out that she hid two jewish families in her house.

Europe and germany were her so called "Heimat" she looked up to Stefan Zweig who also saw europe as his "Heimat" or his home. But well his works were forbidden in germany thanks to the national socialists. She was enraged to find out that her favourite author isn't allowed in her home. But she couldn't give a single shit. She still had the books of him that she once bought. She hid them well. They always tried to find something so that they could arrest and torture her. Well she wasn't allowed to draw anymore and that was a problem but she never stopped with helping others out.

Then someday one of her neighbours told her off to the ss. They came into her home and found everything the spy who resided with the young woman and also the jewish families, the forbidden books and her forbidden art studio. Also the books of different languages such as english, french, japanese, italian, spanish and much more. She learned them all and can speak some of them fluently while the others were a little rusty but good enough to communicate decently. They caught her and they also punished her. And their punishment was the reason for her death. She was a strong woman who helped as much people as she could by sending them off to other countries or hiding them and teaching them. The spy was also tortured and died right next her when a bomb of the english army fell onto the building they were in. He apologized to her but she told him that it wasn't his fault and that she decided for herself to walk on this path that was hidden in the darkness without any sight of light. She wanted to bring light into her home, her "Heimat". But she lost it and she pobably never gets it back. Well that's what her dying self thought but that wasn't exactly true.

~End of backstory~

She came back to life and well she is now my humble self who is a good friend of hystorical people like Sacagawea, Theodore Roosevelt and others. My personal favourite of them all is Ahkmenrah. He is a pharao of egypt who is dead like most of us. Makes sense right? And well he kind of is more to me. I certainly don't know what I am for him but he is more than a friend. I think it's enough to say that I have kind of a crush on the handsome egyptian man. Well okay it's a big crush to be honest.

Everytime when I have those nightmares about my death he's there to help me. I'm very thankful to have him. Even though I'm quite sad that I don't know about his feelings for me.

Well my little thoughts about my past and current situation were interrupted by hand that waved in front of my face. I blinked twice and mumbled a little "Wa?", that made him chuckle. "You were very deep into your thoughts today. Is something troubling you?", he asked me somewhat amused but also concerned. I just stared into his eyes and shook my head indicating a "no". He just sighs and asked if I could tell him about some stories that I read. He asked for some fairy tales. So I told him some. Mostly the famous ones like "Snow white", "Rapunzel", "The beauty and the beast" and also "Sleeping Beauty".

At some point he laid down and rested his head on my lap. I stopped reading and stared down on him with wide eyes. He eyed me from his position and asked what's wrong. He wasn't like this before. Never. And this shocked me. "Nothing's wrong. But tell me why are you laying your head on my lap?", I asked with a blush that told the world how embarassed and overworked I was from the whole situation. "I'm simply resting. I was feeling tired." Well he is dead so it was kind of a miracle for me to think that he can feel tired. I just shrugged and returned still a little flustered to reading the current story.

After I finished with the story I glanced down to Ahk who still rested his head on my lap. Surprisingly he kind of fell asleep. I watched his peaceful face and felt the heat returning into my face. I may be out of wax but well I kind of can blush at least at night. Though everyone can kind of. It's cute when I see Teddy blush because of Sacagawea or the other way around. I kind of still wonder how it's possible. But well we talk about a relict that can bring basically everything to life so questioning that kind of stuff can bring a headache to someone and by someone I mean myself.

As I was thinking and staring down on the handsome pharao on my lap the mentioned man was waking up and saw to me. Catching me red-handed as I was watching him sleep. I then registered that he had opened his beautiful brown eyes and well you can guess it. I became something similar to a living tomato. He smiled widely seeing me this flustered and laughed out loud.

"Thank you for guarding my sleep! But I'm sure that the sun will rise very soon." Indeed the sky was getting lighter every minute and it's just a matter of time that we need to be on our places. He sat up but put me to a halt when I wanted to stand up. "Could you answer me one little question about a german word?", he asked looking at the young woman with great interest. "Sure. What is your question?"

"What does "Heimat" mean?" Heimat. I haven't heard that word for long only thought about it. "Well "Heimat" is similar to the english word "home" but some people might say that it has a higher meaning. It's more connected with feelings and it doesn't need to be a place. Sometimes it's a person or a thing." "Hmm can you tell me if my usage of the word is correct?", he asked kind of nervous id I'm putting it right. I just nodded and he took a deep breath. That kind of makes it suspicious. Like if he's going to confess or something. He wouldn't right?

Then he grabbed for my hand and said "(Y/N) my beautiful little desert flower. You are everything to me and my "Heimat" is wherever you are. Eh.. could you tell me how I say in german that you're my "Heimat"?" "Du bist meine Heimat", I answered in a trance like state. "(Y/N). Du bist meine Heimat*" I teared up after he said that. "Du bist auch meine Heimat, Ahk.**" He caressed my cheek and kissed me slowly. It was a cute kiss that showed all his emotions for me and of course I reciprocated it as soon as I was out of my trance.

"I love you", he mumbled lowly while connecting his forehead with mine. "I love you too." He is my "Heimat" and I'm pretty sure he'll always be. Well as long as the tablet and the time are on our side.

What the two lovebirds haven't noticed was that the tablet had little corrosions over it. And that their next adventure is waiting for them.

Well that's it my friend's! It's really late and I'm kind of tired as idk. Especially since it's 3 a.m. And I need to go to school tomorrow like ahhhh! Am I dumb kinda. Do I have to write a class test in math tomorrow? Yes. Yes, I have to. Well that's the reason why I'm going to sleep now. So yeah. Ouh and if I got anything wrong tell me friendly if it's unfriendly I will simply ignore it. I'll make soon a masterlist and link it to this post and the other two as well. And yeah... See ya guys later!

Edited: Here is the masterlist!

Masterlist

Translation: "(Y/N). Du bist meine Heimat." -> "(Y/N). You're my home." * "Du bist auch meine Heimat, Ahk." -> "You're my home as well, Ahk." **

#ahkmenrah x reader #natm #x reader #ahkmenrah x you #ahkmenrah x y/n #fanfic #reader #natm ahkmenrah

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justabigassnerd · 2 years ago

Text

You Knock Me Out, I Fall Apart

Pairing - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x daughter!reader, Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw

Word count - 6,610

Warnings - abandonment, mentions of abortions, implied abuse from Jake's parents, swearing

Inspired by - Dear Theodosia by Leslie Odom Jr & Lin-Manuel Miranda

Summary - Jake walks down memory lane as he shows Bradley a precious photo album

A/N - hey y'all! It's new fic time! This is pretty long but I'm so proud of it. I'm just warning y'all now that I'm British so idk how American football works so Jake & Bradley just support the teams that Glen & Miles support sorry, not sorry. I hope this fic was worth the wait bc it definitely took me a hot minute to write. Anyways I'll stop rambling now. As per y'all please send in requests, feedback and enjoy!!!

It was a day off for Jake and Bradley, so they spent the day at Jake’s house while you were at school and as the two relaxed on the sofa after completing a morning of chores Bradley noticed a photo album laid on the coffee table that he’d never seen before.

“Hey Jake, what’s this?” Bradley asks curiously, pointing at the album and Jake smiles softly, reaching out to grab the album.

“Here, you can look through it. It’s an album I started not long after y/n was born. I found it in one of my drawers last night.” Jake says as he hands the album to Bradley, silently encouraging him to open it.

“Are you sure?” Bradley questions, not wanting to overstep any boundaries as his hands hover over the album.

“I’m sure.” Jake smiles and Bradley can’t help but smile back, feeling honoured that Jake trusts him enough to let him look at this precious photo album. Bradley opens the album onto the first page. A small smile graced his face as he read the first page which displays your full name and date of birth along with a picture of you a few days after you were born.

“The day she was born was the best day of my life. Even above beating you for the Top Gun trophy.” Jake laughs lightly, making Bradley roll his eyes jokingly and shove Jake’s shoulder.

“I can tell you some stories as you flick through the album if you’d like?” Jake offers, his smile softening as Bradley turns the page to the first lot of photos Jake had taken, most of them being hospital pictures, he even had one your mother had snapped while he was holding you. Bradley could tell from the look on Jake’s face in the picture that he had loved you since the beginning.

“Was this the first time you held her?” Bradley asked, pointing at the picture. Jake smiles softly at the memory but shakes his head.

“No, that was one of the last photos we took in the hospital. That was the night before we took her home. The first time I held her was a moment I’ll never forget.” Jake says, reminiscing on the moment he held you for the first time.

Jake was just granted access to his girlfriend’s hospital room, finding her fast asleep in her hospital bed. She didn’t want him in the room with her as she gave birth and while Jake wanted to be by her side, he ultimately respected her wishes and waited in the hospital waiting room for the hours it took for you to be born. When he entered the room he noticed the bassinet alongside her bed and he approached slowly, not wanting to startle the newborn. He feels tears well in his eyes at the sight of his daughter swaddled in a baby blanket, sleeping peacefully. He sits down next to the bassinet, silently admiring his child.

“She’s gorgeous, isn’t she?” Jake turns to see a nurse entering with a gentle smile, a chart in hand as she checks the baby over.

“She’s perfect.” Was all Jake could say in response, he was sure it was obvious to anyone that he’d fallen head over heels for his baby girl.

“I take it you’re dad, then?” The nurse asks, glancing at Jake who nods with a sheepish smile. He was also silently grateful that the nurse wasn’t commenting on his age. At most appointments and even just walking around in public both he and his girlfriend got comments about how they were too young to be having children.

“That obvious, huh?” Jake says, his knee bouncing slightly.

“That look of pure love is one I’m used to seeing.” The nurse chuckles as she finishes writing on her chart.

“Do you want to do skin-to-skin with her?” The nurse then asks, and Jake’s eyes widen at the question.

“I thought that was only something the mother can do.” Jake says, confused at why the nurse had asked him if he wanted to do it.

“Nonsense, dads can do it too. It has similar benefits for the baby. Here, I’ll sort her out while you take your shirt off.” The nurse says, putting her chart down and carefully lifting you into her arms while Jake pulls his hoodie and shirt off. The nurse carefully unwraps you from the blanket and hands you to Jake, gently coaching him through how to hold you safely. Once you were securely in Jake’s arms the nurse took a step back.

“I noticed she doesn’t have a name yet; do you have any ideas?” The nurse asks sweetly, no judgement in her tone as she speaks.

“I think me and her mum are gonna decide later. But I’m personally set on y/n.” Jake says, unable to take his eyes off your sleeping form.

“Well, no matter what you decide I’m sure it’ll be beautiful. Although I must say y/n is a good choice.” The nurse says with a smile before deciding she should continue her rounds so she gently informs Jake to not hold you for any longer than an hour in case you got too hot and then left to give him some privacy. At the sound of the door clicking shut you stirred slightly, your eyes blinking open as you stare up at the man holding you.

“I know I’m not who you were expecting. You were probably expecting your mum, right? I’m your dad, sweetheart and I’m going to love and protect you. But I’m gonna let you in on a little secret, I’m quite scared about all this. My dad wasn’t the kind of person who wanted to raise a kid, so I didn’t have a great role model growing up. But I’m gonna do my damn hardest to be the best dad for you.” Jake whispers to you, spilling his fear to his child as he reaches out a hand to stroke your cheek, stopping when you grab his pinkie in your hand, squeezing it lightly. Jake felt a tear roll down his cheek as you continue to stare up at him before a huge grin breaks out on his face.

“Oh sweetheart, you’ve got your daddy wrapped around your little finger and you’re not even a day old.”

Jake finishes telling Bradley about the first time he held you and he saw how Bradley smiled softly, genuinely interested in what Jake was saying. Bradley’s eyes flicked back down at the picture and back up at Jake.

“So you came up with y/n?” Bradley asks as he flips the page to the next lot of pictures.

“We didn’t want to know the gender before she was born so we came up with a list of names each and honestly the second I saw y/n, I knew I didn’t want any other name for my little girl.” Jake says, a fond smile on his face.

“Did you think she was going to be a girl before she was born, or did you think she was going to be a boy?” Bradley asks, and Jake found his curiousness cute.

“I thought she was going to be a girl. Her mother thought she was going to be a boy. I just had a hunch I’d have a daddy’s girl on my hands.” Jake chuckles, his eyes falling back to the photo album since he hadn’t had a chance to look through the album yet since rediscovering it and when his eyes landed on one picture Bradley noticed Jake’s expression shift to one he couldn’t quite read.

“Are you okay?” Bradley asks gently, worried about how Jake had reacted to the picture.

“Yeah, it’s just… that picture there, it’s one I took a couple of days after y/n’s mother left. It was the first time she smiled after she left.” Jake says, pointing out the picture of you smiling widely and it was obvious that you weren’t looking at the camera, you were looking at your dad behind the camera.

“I never told you about that day, did I?” Jake asks, glancing back up at Bradley who shakes his head.

“No, but I don’t expect you to tell me. You don’t have to.” Bradley insists, not wanting Jake to recount this painful memory.

“No, it’s okay. I want you to know.”

It had been a month since you were born and Jake had found himself falling more and more in love with you each day. But your mother had been growing distant. She’d had you drinking formula from the get-go, hardly held you or looked your way. Jake had worried about her, asking if he should book an appointment with the doctor to see if this was a normal post-birth thing but she always refused.

One morning, Jake woke up and out of instinct, reached across the bed in search of his girlfriend but he found her side cold. He slowly blinked his eyes open and furrowed his brows at the absence of his girlfriend. He climbed out of bed, assuming she’d be in the kitchen of their small flat with a coffee in hand but he found no sight of her anywhere. The more he looked, the more he realised that a lot of her belongings were missing, he went into the living room and found a note on the coffee table and he picked it up with a frown.

‘Jake,

I’m sorry but I had to do this, I had to leave. I never wanted this baby in the first place, and I only kept it because you were so excited about it and because I didn’t want anyone to think lowly of me if I terminated the pregnancy. The whole town already shuns me enough. My parents offered to take me back in if I left you and the baby behind. I had to think of my future and I can’t have that if I’m a mother at the age of eighteen.

Again, I’m sorry.’’

Jake couldn’t stop the tears from rolling down his cheeks as he read the letter. He couldn’t believe it. Overnight he became a single father whose future lay in the Navy. Despite that, however, he was still adamant that he wouldn’t go anywhere without you. He’d more than willingly give up his place in the Navy before he’d give you up. His sadness quickly turned to anger at the whole situation. How could she just leave like this? If she had spoken to him they could’ve come up with a solution instead of running off and leaving a daughter without her mother. As Jake wiped his tears and crumpled up the note, a small cry came from your room and without hesitation, Jake was heading straight into your room and scooping you up in his arms. He held you close as your cries lessened, comforted by the familiarity of your dad’s arms. Jake pressed a kiss to the top of your head as he willed the tears back into their ducts and plastered a grin on his face for your sake.

“Hey, baby girl. I guess it’s just us two now. But I promise sweetheart that we’re gonna be fine. I’ll figure this all out and we’ll be just fine. It’s us against the world. I guess that means we’re a team, huh? Team Seresin, how does that sound? I think it sounds like we’re going to be one hell of a duo. The Navy will have nothin’ on us.”

When Jake finished explaining what had happened, Bradley felt tears welling in his eyes at what Jake had to go through. His girlfriend left him alone with a baby to look after not long before Jake was due to go to the Naval Academy. Bradley could tell that her leaving affected Jake a lot more than he cared to admit, but he had it drilled in that he had to be strong for his daughter’s sake. And Bradley could tell there was an underlying fear that it would happen again. After all, Jake had not dated a single person since his girlfriend left.

“You know I’d never do that, right?” Bradley says softly, moving a hand to rest on Jake’s as he smiled softly at him. Bradley knew that relationships required communication. Carole had always told him about how important communication is in a relationship and Bradley took every word his mother said to heart. Bradley knew that if he ever felt like there was a problem in a relationship he was in, he would talk to his partner about it, not just up and leave them with no warning. At Bradley’s words, Jake smiled in appreciation and rested his hand atop Bradley’s.

“I know.” Jake says softly, grateful for Bradley’s words as they provide the comfort he needed to soothe his anxieties. After a moment of comfort, both men turned their attention to the album once more and Bradley continued to flick through the album and smiles covered their faces as they look at the pictures.

“Oh, look at this one.” Bradley says, pointing out a picture of you standing upright, both hands resting on a coffee table as you support your wobbly legs.

“She started walking not long after I took that picture. And then said her first word almost a week after that.” Jake grins, thinking about the day you started walking and the day you said your first word.

The day you started walking was a day that Jake would never forget. You had recently turned one and in that started figuring out how to pull yourself up on furniture and stand with the support of the furniture or your dad. When you started pulling yourself up on the coffee table, Jake had never babyproofed something quicker in his life he didn’t want you falling against it and hurting yourself. Jake was currently watching the tv while occasionally glancing down at you while you played with your toys, babbling happily to yourself. Whenever you looked up from your toys and saw your dad looking at you, you always giggled when he pulled a silly face at you. While your dad’s attention was on the tv for some time, you decided you really wanted a cuddle from your dad but you couldn’t let out more than a couple of babbles which barely drew your dad’s attention your way. You decided to pull yourself up by the coffee table, your little hands gripping the edge as you got up on your feet. Jake saw your movement out of the corner of his eyes and turned to look at you, smiling when he noticed your face light up at his attention now being on you.

“Look at you, y/n/n! You’re getting so good at standing!” Jake praises, grinning as you babble happily at him. His face morphed to one of shock when you started taking shaky steps towards him while supporting yourself on the coffee table. He knew if you wanted to reach him, you’d have to take two or three steps without any support.

“That’s it, sweetheart! You gonna come here to daddy?” Jake says, holding his arms out towards you, ready to catch you if you fall. Encouraged by your dad's words and outstretched arms you release your grip on the coffee table and take the three crucial steps it takes to get you into your dad's arms and once you reach him he scoops you up cheering happily as you giggle loudly.

“You did it! That was so good!” Jake celebrates as he falls against the back of the sofa, holding you up as you laugh loudly. Jake then brings you into his chest and wraps his arms around you as you cuddle into him happily. He presses repeated kisses to the top of your head while he whispers how proud he is of you. After a couple of minutes of cuddles, Jake turns his attention back down to you as you shift to look up at your dad.

“Do you want to give walking another go? Daddy will give you more cuddles if you do.” Jake says as he places you down where you had originally been sat with your toys before returning to the sofa, holding his arms out for you once more.

“Alright, sweetheart, come here!” He says with a grin as you stand up cautiously once more, taking more shaky steps towards your dad and stumbling into his arms. Jake lifts you up once more and falls on his back along the length of the sofa, cheering and praising you again as you giggle and cuddle close to your dad as he wraps his arms around you gently.

Almost a week later, you had built up your ability to walk and started working on your ability to toddle around the house freely while Jake had to frantically chase you around to make sure you wouldn’t get a hold of anything you shouldn’t. He had to babyproof the house a lot more to make sure you couldn’t get into cupboards. You still babbled rather than spoke but Jake tried to encourage speech, pointing at objects and telling you their names hoping you’d repeat them. He’d been doing it since you reached six months after someone told him that babies started to understand words at that age. He could tell that your favourite was when he’d point at himself and say 'da-da' and you’d always giggle and reach your arms out towards him for cuddles.

One day, you were sitting in your high chair while Jake cooked both yours and his dinner and as he cooked, he had his back to you, occasionally glancing over his shoulder to check on you which made you smile but when he turned back around, you’d frown, reaching out for him babbling to try and get his attention. When your babbling didn’t get you the result you were expecting your mouth started to attempt to form the words your dad had been diligently teaching you. It took you several tries to get your mouth around the words but soon enough you managed to yell out.

“Da-da!” At the outburst, Jake almost dropped the spatula he was holding as he went to plate up the food as he turned to face you.

“What did you just say? Did you just say-”

“Da-da!” You repeat, making Jake’s eyes light up as he rushes over to you, getting you out of your high chair and holding you close.

“That’s right, sweetheart! You’re brilliant!” Jake praises as he peppers kisses all over your face as you giggle. You kept repeating ‘da-da’ as you immediately associated the word with cuddles and kisses from your dad. It quickly became your favourite word, and even as you picked up more words as days passed, you’d always go back to ‘da-da’ or ‘daddy’ which would melt Jake into a puddle every time.

“She really has you wrapped around her little finger, huh?” Bradley jokes as Jake rolls his eyes.

“Like I said, from the moment she was born.” Jake agrees, shrugging lightly as he speaks while Bradley flicks through the photo album some more.

“Let me guess, first day of school?” Bradley asks when his eyes land on a picture of you with a backpack on, a huge toothy grin adorning your face as you look at the camera.

“Oh yeah. That was her first day of big-girl school. She was so excited until she wasn’t.” Jake says, remembering how quickly your mood had shifted that morning.

“How come?” Bradley questions, tilting his head slightly in his curiosity.

“I think it was the fact I wasn’t going to be there with her. I thought her going to kindergarten would help avoid that, but I clearly misjudged the whole situation.” Jake explains as Bradley nods in understanding as Jake launches into another story.

“Alright y/n/n, you ready for your first day of school?” Jake asks as he grabs his truck keys while you nod like a little bobblehead.

“Yes, daddy!” You say excitedly, your hands grabbing your backpack straps.

“Alright, let’s get a move on then, shall we?” Jake says, taking your hand in his and exiting the house with you skipping alongside him. He helps you into the truck and buckles you into your car seat safely before getting behind the wheel and driving to your new school. He finds a place to park and gets out, heading to help you out after. He hands you your bag and locks the truck before taking your hand in his once more before heading towards the school. When Jake asks, he is directed to your classroom which he easily finds due to the overwhelming number of parents also dropping their kids off for their first day of school. Some kids were crying and clinging to their parents, others had darted into their classroom without so much as a goodbye. And for some, the parents were the ones crying, telling their kids goodbye and being escorted away by their partner as they sobbed. When Jake entered the room, he was instantly greeted by your teacher.

“Hi, I’m Mrs Robinson, I’m this class's teacher. And who are you?” The teacher asks sweetly, getting down to your level as you cling to your dad’s hand, a sudden shyness overcoming you.

“y/n.” You mumble as your hand receives a reassuring squeeze from Jake.

“Seresin, right?” Your teacher says, looking up at Jake to confirm to which he nods with a smile. The teacher ticks your name off her list as she stands up to her full height once more.

“Are you picking her up later or will I be expecting someone else?” Mrs Robinson enquires as she looks over at Jake.

“It’ll be me.” He confirms, trying not to look awkward. He could already sense the judgmental stares of other parents just on account of his age, he didn’t need to add fuel to the fire by spilling that he was a single parent. Your teacher scribbles something down on her paper, probably that he was the one picking you up, Jake thought before she turned her attention down to you.

“Alright, y/n, you want to say goodbye to your dad and we’ll get you all settled in?” Mrs Robinson says as she smiles softly at you and in a second your expression shifts to one of confusion.

“Goodbye?” You asked nervously, looking up at your dad as your eyes grew misty. Jake silently asked your teacher for a moment alone and she went over to greet another child while Jake scooped you up in his arms.

“Daddy’s got to go to work, baby. And you have to go to school so you can learn lots.” Jake reasons, his heart breaking at your teary eyes.

“I don’t want you to go.” You whimper, wrapping your arms around his neck, hugging him and burying your face in his shoulder. Jake hugged you back and pressed a tender kiss to your temple.

“I know, sweetheart. It’s okay to feel nervous and upset about this. But you’re going to have so much fun here. You’re going to make new friends and get to try some new things.” Jake says reassuringly, letting you know it’s okay to feel the emotions you’re feeling while also trying to provide comfort.

“But you won’t be here.” You whine, clinging tighter to him.

“Oh, sweetheart. You’ll be so busy having fun that you’ll hardly notice I’m gone. Hey, you love drawing, don’t you? You can draw some pictures and give them to me when I pick you up later, can’t you? The fridge is looking like it’s missing a few masterpieces.” Jake says, jostling you slightly and he smiles lightly as you cheer up slightly.

“I can draw you pictures!” You exclaim, wiggling to get out of his hold as he puts you down on the floor and just before you rush off Jake calls your name to get your attention.

“Can I get one last hug before I go?” Jake asks quietly and without hesitation, you throw yourself into his arms, hugging him tightly.

“Goodbye daddy. I love you.” You say, cuddling close as Jake hugs you back.

“Goodbye y/n/n. I love you more. Make sure to be kind and helpful alright? If you see anyone who is upset, try, and cheer them up, alright?” Jake says softly as he pulls away from the hug, smiling at you.

“Okay, daddy.” You grin, making Jake’s smile widen as he presses a kiss to the top of your head and lets you go up to the other kids in your class, immediately striking up a conversation with them. Jake smiles softly before bidding goodbye to your teacher and rushing back out to his truck to head to training.

At the end of the school day, Jake was standing amongst the gaggle of parents waiting for their kids to emerge from their first day of school. Soon enough, Mrs Robinson emerged from the building with her class in tow and when the kids saw their parents they went barrelling over to them excitedly. The second Jake saw you he called your name and you came sprinting towards him, giggling wildly as he picked you up and spun in a circle with you in his arms.

“Did you have a good first day of school?” Jake asks as you nod with a grin.

“I made loads of friends!” You say happily, making Jake smile as he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“That’s my girl. Let’s talk to Mrs Robinson about your day, huh?” Jake says, holding you in his arms as he crosses to your teacher to ask about your day. Mrs Robinson had nothing but praise for you as she described how you got on at school, even saying how you helped a girl who arrived after you when you noticed that she was crying at her parent’s departure. Jake couldn’t stop the proud smile covering his face at Mrs Robinson’s words. When Jake buckles you into your car seat he can’t help but smile as you recount your day to him.

“You know, I am so proud of you sweetheart for helping that girl. So I’ll make your favourite for dinner, does that sound like a plan?” Jake asks you as he gets in the front seat, starting the engine up as you cheer at the thought of getting your favourite meal. When you finally arrive home, Jake takes your bag and gets you out of your seat, following you to the front door and unlocking the door so you could barrel into the house. Jake had to call you back to him so he could take your shoes off before kicking his own off and following you into the living room.

“Oh, daddy! I made you some drawings!” You say, turning on your heels after you remember the drawings that were residing in your bag. You asked Jake to hand the bag to you and when he did, you unzipped it and handed him a drawing of two stick figures and what he could only guess was a plane in the sky above.

“Who’s this?” Jake asks as he sits on the sofa, pulling you up into his lap so you could point out who was who in the picture.

“That’s you and that’s me!” You say cheerfully as you point at the two stick figures.

“I see! Is there someone flying this plane or is it magic?” Jake asks with an amused tone as he tickles you quickly, grinning as you squeal with laughter.

“it’s Javy!” You say, pointing out a little smiley face you’d drawn in the cockpit of the plane. Jake couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped him. Javy was one of Jake’s friends from the academy. The two had grown close in their time together and Javy was one of the only people who knew Jake had a daughter.

“Well, I’ll have to show Javy this then, won’t I?” Jake says with a smile as you nod madly. It was moments like this where Jake hoped that he’d somehow stay friends with Javy, so you had at least one more person in your life.

Bradley smiled lightly at the story, finding it cute how Jake had encouraged you to give your first day of school a go and was met with you having a good day.

“Makes sense why Coyote is ‘Uncle Javy’ now. You’ve known him a while, huh?” Bradley says, glancing over at Jake briefly before turning his attention back to the album to flick through it some more.

“Met on our first day of training and have been friends ever since.” Jake says proudly. Javy had been an anchor he didn’t know he needed in his life and he couldn’t be more grateful for his best friend. Bradley nods at Jake’s words, glad that Jake had someone he could confide in and trust, it was a friendship similar to his and Phoenix’s.

“Oh no. Oh, come on Jake! You took her to a Cowboys game? Have a little taste.” Bradley jokes suddenly as his eyes land on a photo of you and Jake at a football arena, both of you donning caps with the all-familiar Cowboys logo. After speaking, Bradley found himself on the receiving end of a glare from Jake which is quickly replaced by a roll of the eyes and a smile.

“We’re from Texas, what do you expect?” Jake teases, looking back down at the photo and smiling at the memories that came from that picture.

Jake hadn’t been raised with football. He didn’t get to be one of those kids in the garden playing catch with his dad on a Saturday morning while his mum watched from afar and warned them not to hit the windows. Instead, Jake was either out on the ranch busting his ass to do all his chores or up in his room studying. After all, he needed good grades if he was going to get the hell away from his family.

One day, not long into his Sophomore year, one of his high school friends invited him and a bunch of his other friends to his house to watch a football game. Jake was initially hesitant. He knew how his parents could get when he wasn’t where he was supposed to be. But part of him knew that he needed to start doing things for himself. After school, the group of boys headed to Luke’s house where they all settled on his large sofa, an array of snacks on a table while the group chatted excitedly about what they thought would happen and how they hoped the Cowboys would win. Jake knew very little about football other than what was discussed in front of him but he figured if he enjoyed the game enough today, maybe he'd try out for the high school team one day. When the game started, Jake was entranced, he found himself more invested than he ever thought he’d be. He had the time of his life watching the Cowboys play and he knew that this was the team he’d support from here on out. He didn’t care if they won every game or lost every game, he’d never forget this moment at his friend’s house getting to feel like a person rather than just a pawn in his parent's ranch plans. When he went home that evening, he didn’t even care about the punishment he knew he’d be receiving, all he cared about was his newfound love for football.

Jake never forced his love of football and the Cowboys onto you. Sure he’d watch a game while you were little but he didn’t want to force you to like anything just because he did. Despite that, it didn’t stop him from being overjoyed when you came to him one day just shy of your tenth birthday asking if you could watch the football game with him and if he’d explain how the game worked. He cuddled with you on the sofa as he explained the rules and what each position did as well as explaining the point system. As he spoke, he kept checking that he wasn’t boring you with any information but you looked just as entranced as he did that first time he watched a Cowboys game. He watched as you visibly grew excited when the Cowboys scored a touchdown and how you tried to bite back disappointment when the other team gained possession of the ball.

For your thirteen birthday, Jake got tickets to a Cowboys game much to your joy. He waited a few years just to see if your interest in football would dwindle but it didn’t. You enjoyed it more and more each day. You’d always watch the Cowboys game with Jake in the living room with snacks laid out on the coffee table. Jake waited for the Cowboys to play an away game so he wouldn’t risk bumping into anyone he knew from back in Texas. He knew the chances were slim but he wasn’t willing to take any risks, especially since he was taking you with him. He didn’t even care that you had to travel to another state for the game, he couldn’t regret a thing when he saw the joy on your face when he revealed the tickets along with two caps with the Cowboys logo on them. He’d never forget the awe on your face as the two of you entered the stadium, you had a permanent grin on your face throughout the entire game. The two of you joined in with fellow Cowboys fans in celebrating loudly when your team scored and when the Cowboys came out victorious you all cheered loudly while the supporters of the opposing team expressed their disappointment loudly. When the two of you got back to your hotel room after an exciting day you all but collapsed in bed the second you were ready for bed. Jake bent down alongside your bed to press a kiss to your temple just before he went to bed and you quickly threw your arms around him for a hug which he returned instantly.

“Today was the best day ever. Thank you, dad.” You mumble sleepily into his shoulder, hugging him at tight as you could while Jake smiles softly, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart. I’m glad you had fun.” Jake whispers as you loosen your grip, lying back down and covering yourself with the duvet as Jake presses one last kiss to the top of your head before moving to his own bed and switching off the bedside lamp so he can go to sleep too.

“Cute story, but you still took her to a Cowboys game. I’m gonna have to introduce her to the Eagles.” Bradley teases, making Jake raise an eyebrow and scoff.

“Bold assumption to think she’d abandon the Cowboys.” Jake teases back, shuffling around to face Bradley more.

“Maybe she’ll switch teams once I show her an Eagles game.” Bradley retorts, leaning slightly closer to Jake’s face with a teasing smile on his face.

“Well, maybe we’ll make you a Cowboys fan.” Jake smirks, inching closer, mere centimetres between their faces. Jake takes the step to connect their lips for a brief kiss, pulling away when their need for air becomes too much and rest their foreheads against each other.

“Thank you for showing me this photo album. I feel like I know more about you and y/n now. You’re a good father to her. And I love you for that.” Bradley says and then immediately stiffens up at his own words as Jake pulls away, shock covering his features.

“I’m sorry if that was too much, I know this is-” Bradley’s nervous ramblings are cut off by Jake grabbing Bradley’s shirt and pulling him back in for another kiss which was much more passionate than the tender kiss they had just shared.

“You love me?” Jake asks once he pulls away from the kiss, his bright green eyes searching Bradley's brown ones for an answer.

“Yes. I love you, Jake.” Bradley says, watching as Jake’s whole face crumbles and tears well in his eyes.

“I love you too.” He manages to say as Bradley pulls him into his arms, shushing him gently.

Jake Seresin had never been told he was loved by his parents. He was just there to be someone to take over the ranch when his parents couldn’t run it anymore. He couldn’t recall if his girlfriend ever said it to him. He knew he told her he loved her regularly but couldn’t say if she ever said it back or meant it with the same weight that he did. In fact, Jake was sure the first time someone ever told him they loved him was when you were little and he’d uttered an ‘I love you’ to you as he put you to bed and you had repeated the words back to him with a grin which damn near made Jake crumble apart then and there. Jake never thought he’d find someone to love but he was so glad he got to see Bradley again and to get to see him in a new light. And he was grateful that his daughter pushed the two of them together since the two men were too oblivious to do it themselves. Jake remains in Bradley’s arms until he calms down and his tears have slowed. When he’s calmed down enough, he pulls away while wiping his eyes with his hands.

“Sorry about that.” Jake laughs weakly, smiling over at Bradley sheepishly.

“You don’t need to apologise. You deserve to be loved, Jake.” Bradley replies with a soft smile.

“Dad, I’m home!” Your familiar voice calls as the front door opens and both men’s attention immediately goes to the direction of your voice.

“In the living room!” Jake calls back, smiling as you appear in the doorway grinning at your dad and Bradley.

“Good day at school sweetheart?” Jake then asks, watching as you nod.

“Yeah, it was alright. A pretty normal day if you ask me. What’s that?” You say, noticing the photo album on Bradley’s lap.

“It’s a photo album I started when you were born. I found it last night.” Jake says with a smile as you walk behind the sofa, leaning over Bradley’s shoulder to see the photos in the album.

“I didn’t know you did that.” You say with an amused smile as you look over at Jake who reaches up to ruffle your hair.

“Well, I gotta embarrass you in front of your future partners somehow.” Jake laughs as you groan and Bradley grins. Jake then invites you to sit in between the two of them so you can look through the album while Jake tells you some different stories to the ones he told Bradley. But he makes sure to sprinkle in some embarrassing stories as well.

“Do you remember when you were scared of the Muppets?” Jake laughs as the memory pops up in his brain.

“Oh my- dad, will you stop?! Bradley stop your boyfriend please.” You plead, burying your face in your hands as you flush red.

“Not a chance, this is hilarious.” Bradley laughs, folding his arms across his chest and leaning back into the sofa cushions.

“I hate you both.” There was not an ounce of truth to your words. You loved these men with all your heart and soul. Even if they did revel in embarrassing you.

taglist (comment or message to be added):

@zbeez-outlet @kaceywithak @tsnelf7

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memberment · 4 months ago

Text

Genesis

Goooooooooodmorning.

Idk why I'm making a post yet I really don't feel like writing. ANYWAYS. Updates may come today. They also may not. Idk yet.

6:51 Hello from beyond. A new playlist is being born as I write through chapter 30. Also, I think I finished my chapter 7 art. It's Craig carrying Tweek home after they first met. They were so cute 😭 Idk what the message is gonna be in that one yet though. I know what the response is, but not the og message. And I am realizing as I type that that I was not supposed to reveal that but fuck it we ball there's like six people on here it's okay.

ANYWAYS. IF I CAN FINISH 30 AND ACTUALLY WRITE 27 (due to a restructure, I skipped over it entirely and have to go back and rewrite it.) AND MAYBE, JUST MAYBE, CIRCLE BACK AND FINISH 22, I will be soooooooo happy. I got like 12 hours til sleep time and I prob will not be working on chapter 8 art. Because I do NOT wanna draw Kenny and Clyde just yet. (I'm afraid. I wanna put them in their magical girl uniforms and ACTUALLY SHOW THEIR UNIFORMS bc they do change eventually and I feel like the contrast goes INSANE.)

9:19: Hello friends totally didn't get distracted<3 ANYWAYS. Back to this hell chapter of everyone having a bad time.

1:38: I got so distracted Desolation was late and I didn't write anything. I have literally written under 1k today which is fucking insane to me. I write more when I'm "on breaks"

But I have come here to yap about something. While I'm "on break" I think I'm going to rework The End Is Near AND New Beginnings. Meaning they might get deleted for a bit. Because I kinda wanna redo them both because let's be so real here. My writing was not shit, but I feel like they are both gems that need a bit of love. I don't know if I'm gonna commit to the bit but I really fucking might LMFAOO.

But I do really want to redo New Beginnings because that was the whole reason I started writing fanfic and people are still looking at it and I feel like it pales in comparison to what I write now.

And reworking those two will be much more lax while I suffer through 15 weeks of physics hell. SOOO.

Whatever. Gonna try and get through chapter 30. and maybe 27 BECAUSE I STILL HAVE TO WRITE IT WHAT THE FUCK‼️‼️

I lied I'm yapping for all of five more seconds because I need to complain and refuse to get a diary.

I am actually really sad that I'm not gonna have every day posts anymore. Like I am trying so hard to cope with it but y'all.

Desolation has 4 chapters left. Tweek's Guide has 7 chapters left. Eclipse has 4 (technically five but epilogue's short so it's gonna get posted same day) chapters left. Craig's Guide has like 10 chapters left. Dandelion has 8 (technically 9) chapters left. and Leap year has 8 chapters left. (Genesis doesn't count because that just started. ) LIKE HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO COPE. I HAVE FOUR FICS AND THERE ARE SEVEN DAYS OF THE WEEK. AND I CAN'T POST MY ONE REALLY FUNNY TRASHFIRE FIC BC PART OF IT IS SO GOOD I KINDA WANNA SPLIT THE CONCEPTS UP AND I REFUSE TO FINISH IT TIL I GET MY SHIT TOGETHER. Like y'all do not understand daily posts are like embedded in my brain. I love it. HOW DO I FIX THIS WITHOUT ACTIVELY WRITING. I hate it here. Oh also when Eclipse or Desolation get finished Dandelion is moving to Monday/Wednesdays because Freedom Pal Fridays are being a thing. Because I have. So. Many. Goddamn. Freedom. Pals. Fics. Sitting. There. ScREAMING. For. Me. To. Write. So An Answers getting thrown on Fridays. But how do I space this out? (I am so sorry for this unnecessary lengthiness I am officially just gaming this out as I type because my brother is sleeping and I can't call him to yap.) Like- I wanted to do Sunday for Genesis but I feel like Sundays kinda suck as post days, lowk. So what then? Monday Wednesday Friday Saturday???? I can't just do Tuesday and not Thursday. AH. I hate it here. I need more time and we are constantly running out of time.

Life is fleeting, and I simply hate it.

2:39: JUST HIT 90K. This has been cut down to 38 chapters. I have 1k ish left of 30. 27 is still undone. 22 needs its angel fight. So approximately 29k-36k ish left. I'm losing my mind. I can't believe I am speedballing through this like that. WHICH MEANS IF GOD SHINES DOWN UPON ME I CAN FINISH BOUND IN PEACE.

Then what?

Do I start my break early?

I don't wanna do that? What the fuck would I even work on then though??????

LMFAO about to pray for clarity.

3:44: Creative freedom is fucking crazy because Wendy's having a heart to heart with Brimmy right now.

4:14: I keep cutting chapters and part of me is starting to worry that this is too short but in the same breath like I'm combining them because drawing them out feels kinda lazy and rude. But we are now down to 36/37 chapters. I can't be too mad about it. But part two might be like, way longer. Also we're at 92.3k. SO I DID SOMETHING TODAY.

I lowk wanna work on bound for a bit but that means committing myself to an entire chapter because I can't just write part of a chapter and go back to it for that one and kinda I wanna reread the whole thing before I work on it more. UGH.

I might. I honestly fucking love Bound, like that was my baby when I was concepting it. I literally wrote so much of it while I was on vacation. Like stats on that one suck bc it's so niche but I do not even care. One of my favorite fics that I've written, easy. I'm not even a K2 girlie. I just wanted to write one because it was gonna annoy me if I didn't throw my hat in the ring at least once. I might write background K2 though for something unimportant bc I kinda like how I write them ngl. OKAY GOODBYE FOR NOW I'VE CONVINCED MYSELF TO MAYBE WRITE ANOTHER BOUND CHAPTER.

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thegeminisage · 8 months ago

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as someone who wasn't around in 2014....can you tell me what it was like? (stucky) can you give me a taste of the gardens of babylon etc

what was it like...this is such a fun question i want you to know i gave serious thought to my answer and also discussed it at length with my 2014 friend last night and i know already it's gonna be so long. sorry that i answered your ask at fuck o clock in the morning i am scheduling it to go up later and also at the time you sent the ask in to make sure you see it

ok so like. i mean, you're on the fandom website, right, so i assume youve been in fandoms. idk if youve ever been in a really, REALLY big fandom, at the same time that said fandom was also producing content (even if the source material was not). think d*stiel post nov 5, or undert*le circa late 2015/early 2016, or z*lda after totk came out, or h*rry p*tter as the seventh book was being released. (i'm censoring to avoid a false positive of anybody's blacklist except in the case of the last one, which i am censoring out of <3 disrespect.) like there's something REALLY luxurious about being in ANY large and active fandom and it's mostly the power of crowdsourcing. st*r tr*k 2009's tarsus iv headcanons. the storm trooper lore re: the f*rce awakens before the second two movies came out. everyone just kind of agreeing that dean w*nchester was a teenage hooker. you know?

like, that's "just fanon," sure, but part of the beauty of it is that no one person makes up fanon, we all gather in the biggest writing group in the world and collectively go insane and bat ideas back and forth. there are a hundred THOUSAND fics about bucky barnes on ao3 and that's just the people who were writing, not even counting artists and gifmakers and meta-writers and people who just reblog stuff. i can't possibly begin to put an accurate number to how many people are in any given fandom at any given time, but imagine (on the low end, i'm sure) there are THOUSANDS, perhaps tens of thousands, of people going nuts about stevebucky at all times. tens of THOUSANDS people doing "yes and" with each other on the internet 24 hours a day seven days a week. it's just like being in any fandom, you log on to your dash and see what the mewchies posted while you were gone, but in a fandom so huge and so active you were getting bombarded with idea after idea after idea every single second, so if you don't like one you're spoiled for choice in what you engage with next. it didn't even matter that cap3 was two years away or that it sucked when it finally got here because we collectively wrote cap3 a million times over. like, genuinely, it was a mass creative exercise. it's the biggest writing group in the world. for better or worse, we were shaping our own version of that universe, without any input from or regard to the people who actually created the characters and movie, in a way that compelled most strongly to our own tastes and demographic.

what made this particular movie/fandom special though was a few things. firstly i still genuinely believe it was ahead of its time...marvel shit pre disney was allowed to be political in ways it is ABSOLUTELY not now. like, cap2 could say "the government is secretly full of nazis and they all need to burn" in 2014 two years before the 2016 election and 7 years before jan 6. like you just couldn't say that now. "war bad" is an oldie but goodie, but "our entire government is corrupt and needs to be torn into flaming pieces and cast into the potomac" is um. pretty radical. so is, by the way, "men as victims" and "men having emotions" etcetc. like, not in fandom, fandom all but invented that shit, but as far as dumb superhero movies go. i can't tell you the number of metas i read AND WROTE discussing steve rogers and masculinity and how all that was portrayed, intentionally or not, in that fucking film. i had entire separate universes built up in my head for steve who was born a cis girl and steve who decided later in life that "nonbinary" or "trans woman" was a better fit and then steve who was born as a cis boy and remained a man his whole life but felt weird and different ways about being queer which clashed with the weird and different ways BARNES felt about being queer. i'm not saying the film (or the fandom! good lord) was perfect, it was a product of its time, but it was also WAY ahead of its time too. it was weird to expect the next film to come out and actually, like, be good. it wasnt, but we fully believed it would be and that wasn't delusional behavior because the last one had been. i would never have that kind of faith in a marvel project now because they've been bought by disney.

oh yeah and that's the other thing too like. speaking of queer people. gay marriage wasn't legal in the US on a federal level until 2015, and you couldn't just flip on your TV and see them whenever you wanted. ten years doesn't seem like that long ago in the grand scheme of things but like, we lived on glee and cw/mtv queerbait (disclaimer that i personally only participated in cw queerbait) and that was it. we had crumbs. and like when people write gay characters theyre Just Gay, but if you decide to be crazy stupid in a slash fandom you can decide these layered characters are gay and that's even better rep than um whatever was going on in other pieces of media. these guys are both so lonely and out of step with time and lack other people with "shared life experiences" (girl what the hell was that) and their connection w each other keeps them afloat in a world that doesn't want them so like of COURSE it seems like it's supposed to be romantic. and like, i could and did make myself and my tumblr buds crrrazy (and got made crazy by them) thinking about:

how steve's size when small and again when big interacted w his gender identity and his sexuality and how that sexuality manifested. barnes's identity As A Man hinging on his ability to go to war for his country bc Thats What Men Did but now he's no longer fit because theres worms in his brain. loss of bodily autonomy which usually happens to women and natasha being later in that journey than steve and bucky are and so close to being at peace with it but not there yet. stigmatization of seeking treatment for mental health issues lessened by the presence of sam who could have been a Macho Tough Guy but actually gives off strong Talk About Our Feelings And Be Soft vibes. don't even get me started on the relationship (predatory) between steve and rumlow and how it parallels the one between barnes and pierce (and if any of you motherfuckers BREATHE a word of that h*dra tr*sh p*rty shit in my direction i will END you) and the stigma that comes from being preyed on when vulnerable As Men. steve's depression and ptsd and him getting triggered by, yes, the fucking ALS ice bucket challenge. the collective belief that he was conscious when he was frozen even though nobody said that so that he and barnes could have that in common too. the headcanon about barnes having roma heritage - shoutout to not easily conquered my beloved, and the 14k smut coda i wrote for it✌ speaking of smut, i would be remiss also not to mention there was a STRONG element of collective lust involved. i'm immune to 99% of it bc im ace but the winter soldier was uh. VERY graceful. you know? i didn't write 14k of porn because i was uncompelled. we were on one. we went fucking crazy. fandom in general but especially big fandoms have a kind of nonstop endless well of creative energy born from obsession that is the absolute envy of people like my mortal enemy grrm. we NEVER quit.

also, HISTORY (and other vaguely educational subjects). we were all so desperate to know how steve and bucky would have lived in the years we couldn't see them it sparked a sitewide interest in 1940s american history. there was a thing about bananas tasting different now because of a plague. m&ms being invented as wartime candy. stuff about how shoebox apartments looked and how rations worked. 1940s recipes and radio shows. the 1940s queer movement and how it interacted with ballroom dancing and private drag get-togethers. how amputations work and how prosthetic limbs work in real life so we could extrapolate it to fantasy. how to hand-draw that fucking arm in photoshop. why soldiers are trained to say their serial numbers when captured. what ww2 was like. what dog tags are for. what did they get in the ration packs. what brand of cigarettes did they smoke. what brand (and i am being so serious, i STILL own a tube) of LIPSTICK did peggy carter use. caloric intake of someone with a 4x speed metabolism and how much famine peanut butter he'd need to eat daily to keep from starving to death. oppression of irish immigrants and their children/grandchildren back in the 1940s. the difference between conservatives and fascists, back when there was a difference. what activities generally took place on these mysterious but ever-present new york city docks. just exactly HOW many terrible movies and tv shows has sebastian stan been in ranked by his resemblance to james buchanan barnes in each one. (i personally went through his entire imdb list at the time and then made a venn diagram.) electroswing! teachers and professors would have killed for their classes to have the kind of enthusiasm a bunch of mentally ill teenagers and 20-somethings on tunglr dot edu were showing about this one very specific set of subjects. this film also sparked my love of fight scenes. if you've read this fic or this fic and liked the Big Fight Scenes in them, you can thank cap2 for leading me down that path.

and then yes there was also discourse. my personal most hated thing was the above mentioned h*dra tr*sh p*rty (DO NOT GOOGLE THAT, i will just tell you it's nazi rape porn🤢 and i hope everyone involved is having a bad day today) and also the fact that SOME FUCKING PEOPLE can't understand "don't be shitheads about a fanfic where the author can see you doing it." but then ofc people were also sexist about nat and racist about sam and minimalizing those guys (and every other character besides tony really but sometimes him too) for the two white male leads was a whole thing. and on the funnier side of things you had (justifiably, i suppose) bitter st*ny fans who HATED what those two got in avengers and got real mad when stucky started outpacing them on ao3. and people complaining about the characters being too uwu soft. and then other people arguing whether or not barnes counted as disabled when he was missing a Whole arm. and THEN discourse about was it ethical to remove the arm and build him a new one ESPECIALLY without his consent (if people don't know they're being ableist in their fanfics hypothetically is it still ok to kill them with hammers?) and why was tony doing it if that guy killed his parents and is it ok that we keep making tony not that mad about his dead parents is it not enough that barnes stole his limelight as the guy who gets shipped with steve but what if all three of them fucked but can you really fuck the guy who offed your folks but ACTUALLY isn't it cringe to like tony anyway since RDJ and gwenyth paltrow are bad people and who says chris evans are sebastian stan are such good people etcetcetc. and let us not even get started on the plausibility of the avengers tower fanon after age of ultron came out and it turns out nobody became friends and they all still hated and mistrusted each other. and whether or not the avengers could be considered found family if the other characters were constantly getting shafted into being barnes's little support animals. and then ofc every once in awhile one of the actors of people involved creatively would say something ranging from mildly controversial to absolutely horrible on the internet and we'd all fight about THAT for awhile like a dog with a bone. i mean. typical infighting of any fandom tbh.

but i was very happy. it was all the most enormous thought experiment and creative endeavor (and semi-educational adventure??) that we all participated in daily for like two-ish years without stopping ever. i loved doing it. AND, when you click with a piece of media like that, you also click with other people who clicked with that same piece of media, so in addition to the sheer level of dopamine going into my brain at all times i also formed decade-long friendships that will certainly last the entirety of my lifetime, and when we're in our 90s in nursing homes i will be able to say, "we are friends because i wrote 14k of smut for your fanfic" or "we are friends because i couldn't get enough of your gifsets" or whatever because you know, we quite literally went to stucky together.

#liz answers asks #anonymous #personal

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