#don’t mess with them or their family they’ll beat you up

[childrenofcain-if]

That one scenario where C and MC have a kid has my heart completely 😭 Can we get a follow up for that? How are things going on in the joint household? I'm also very curious to see what C would name their kid 🤭

the hershey’s kisses glinted in the late afternoon sun, crinkled foil catching the golden light that streamed in through the window. aster sat cross-legged on the sofa, a small island of contentment in the messy sprawl of school bags and discarded socks she’d left in her wake.

she was humming under her breath as she unwrapped another piece of chocolate, oblivious to the way her shoes lay in two opposite corners of the room and how her lunchbox sat precariously balanced on the edge of the coffee table.

you leaned against the kitchen counter, sipping coffee and watching her with the detached amusement of a parent who knows they’ll have to clean up the mess but hasn’t yet summoned the energy to do so.

C was in the armchair, one foot propped on the edge of the ottoman, clicking through their macbook with half an eye on aster. it was domesticity in its sweetest form, the kind you don’t think about when you’re young and idealistic, imagining love and family like perfect polaroids on a wall.

“did you give her those?” C asked suddenly, their voice louder than the hum of the dishwasher in the kitchen.

you blinked and set your coffee down, moving closer to inspect the crumpled foil wrappers littered around aster.

“nope,” you said after a beat. “not exactly either of our flavor. that’s… what is that, cherry? we don’t have those in the house.”

C arched a brow, and without missing a beat, turned their full attention to your daughter.

“aster,” they said, voice soft but with a worried edge, “where did you get the chocolates?”

aster’s head snapped up, her chalcedony green eyes lighting up with excitement.

“felix gave them to me!” she said, her grin wide enough to show the little gap where her front tooth had fallen out last week.

C froze, their hand tightening slightly on the edge of their macbook. you, on the other hand, were far more amused.

“felix, huh?” you said, crouching slightly to meet aster’s eye level. “and who’s felix again?”

her grin grew impossibly wider as she happily declared: “my boyfriend!”

you chuckled, leaning against the arm of the sofa. “oh, really? you have a boyfriend now, kleine ster? when did this happen?”

“this morning actually!” aster exclaimed, bouncing a little on the cushions. “he gave me the chocolates at recess and said he liked me, and i said i liked him too, and now we’re boyfriend and girlfriend!”

C’s eye twitched, a muscle jumping just beneath the surface. they sat up straighter, their attention now fully honed on your seven-year-old’s revelation.

“did he now?” they said, their voice tight. “and what else did this... felix boy say?”

aster frowned, confused by the sudden shift in tone. “uh… he said i could have the last red crayon in art class.”

“generous of him,” they muttered darkly, looking distinctly unimpressed.

“C,” you said warningly, but they ignored you, leaning forward with the intense focus of someone about to conduct an interrogation.

“and does this felix… hold your hand?” they asked, their tone too casual to be actually genuine.

“sometimes,” aster admitted, her brows knitting together.

C’s mouth tightened into a thin line. “does he share his lunch with you?”

“yeah, today he gave me his oreos!”

C’s jaw twitched. you pinched the bridge of your nose.

“C,” you said again, a little louder this time. “let it go, darling. they’re just kids.”

but they were too far gone now, leaning forward as though proximity might grant them any sort of control over the situation.

“aster,” they said with all the solemnity of someone at a funeral, “you can’t have a boyfriend. you’re too young. your brain isn’t fully developed. you’ll... you’ll explode! you’ll leave your parents all alone then and it’ll make us very sad.”

aster blinked at them, unwrapping another hershey’s kiss with deliberate slowness.

“i will explode?” she asked, clearly confused by this turn of events.

you rolled your eyes. “no, you wo—”

“yes, you will,” C insisted, cutting you off. “and anyway, you’re not allowed to date anyone until you’re like 30 and paying taxes. it’s a rule.”

“that’s not a rule,” aster said with the stubborn certainty of someone who knew she was right. she really was her parents’ daughter. “and felix is a good boy.”

“‘good,’” C muttered under their breath, glaring at the imaginary felix as though he was lurking in the shadows, waiting to hand their precious little star another chocolate. “i’m going to fight this seven-year-old.”

“C!” you snapped, stepping between them and placing a hand on C’s shoulder. “calm down, my love. it’s harmless.”

C leaned back reluctantly, their gaze flicking between you and aster, who was now watching them like they’d sprouted a second head.

“fine,” they grumbled, crossing their arms over their chest.

***

after dinner, aster sat cross-legged in the middle of the living room, her brow furrowed in concentration as she examined a tiny instruction manual for building LEGOs with the intensity of someone decoding the human genome. her fingers, small but deft, picked up pieces and slotted them into place, her movements sure and deliberate.

C sat beside her, their long legs folded awkwardly beneath them, one hand bracing their bad knee. their fingers worked slower than hers, more hesitantly. the gap between them—her bright enthusiasm, their cautious quiet—was almost laughable. but C didn’t laugh.

they watched her instead.

aster had inherited their stubbornness, the precision of their thoughts, the way they spoke with certainty even when they were wrong, the hard-headed refusal to back down in the face of a challenge. but she’d also inherited your warmth, your easy charisma, the way people seemed to orbit around you like you were some kind of gravitational force.

she was both of you, but neither of you. something wholly her own. and she shone so brilliantly.

“non,” aster said suddenly, shaking her head. she spoke in a tone that was equal parts exasperated and amused, the way one might speak to a child who couldn’t quite grasp a simple concept. “that piece goes here. look.” she leaned over, plucking a flat blue brick from the pile and snapping it into place on the half-constructed spaceship.

“ah,” C said, their lips quirking into a faint smile. “of course, petite étoile. how foolish of me.”

she beamed proudly, her confidence growing with each small victory.

“it’s okay. you’re still learning,” she said magnanimously, patting their arm. honestly, it amused C greatly to see her reflect you back when you both argued everyday like your life depended on it.

C snorted, shaking their head. “merci, mademoiselle.”

“pas de problème,” she replied breezily, her accent and pronunciation impeccably like a parisian native.

C felt a pang of pride so sharp it was almost painful. french had been one of their gifts to her, a piece of their heritage they had handed down like an heirloom. and she had taken to it effortlessly, as if it had always been hers.

she slipped between languages with a grace that left C in awe, her young mind absorbing everything like a sponge.

“wat is dit?” she asked suddenly, holding up a strange piece they hadn’t encountered yet.

“hmm,” you said from where you were sprawled on the couch, your legs stretched out and a book resting on your chest. you barely looked up as you answered her in dutch, explaining what the piece was and where it might fit.

aster nodded thoughtfully, her small fingers turning the piece over as she considered its possibilities. C watched her, their heart swelling with a mixture of love and disbelief.

how could someone so small hold so much brilliance? how could she be so much more than they had ever dared to imagine for themself?

“do you think felix likes LEGOs?” aster asked suddenly, breaking their reverie. she was staring at them now, her eyes—C’s eyes, pale green and perceptive—narrowed in thought.

C felt their jaw tighten at the mention of the boy, the ghost of their earlier irritation flickering to life.

“i have no idea,” they said evenly, focusing on the spaceship.

aster tilted her head, clearly unconvinced by their tone.

“he’s nice,” she said firmly, as though this simple fact should erase all of C’s doubts.

“i’m sure he is,” C said, their tone carefully neutral.

you glanced up from your book, smirking slightly as you watched the exchange. let it go, your eyes seemed to say.

but it wasn’t that simple.

it wasn’t about this felix boy, not really. it was about aster, about the inexorable passage of time, about the impossibility of holding on to something as fragile and fleeting as childhood. she was growing up, and there was nothing C could do to stop it.

C reached for another LEGO brick, their fingers brushing against aster’s. she looked up at them, her eyes bright with curiosity.

“tu vas bien?” she asked, her voice soft and earnest.

the question caught them off guard. for a moment, they didn’t know how to respond. how could they explain the tangled mess of emotions that had been simmering inside them all day? how could they tell her that the thought of her growing up terrified them in a way they couldn’t quite articulate?

“i’m fine, petite étoile,” they said eventually, forcing a smile. “just tired.”

she seemed to accept this, turning her attention back to the spaceship. but C couldn’t help noticing the small furrow in her brow, the way her hands moved more slowly now, as if she was trying to puzzle something out.

they watched her in silence, their heart aching with a strange, bittersweet kind of love.

***

later, when the spaceship was complete and aster had been tucked into bed, C found themself sitting on the edge of your shared bed, their head in their hands.

“okay,” you said, sitting beside them. “do you want to talk about what exactly is bothering you, my love?”

they sighed, looking up at you now.

“it’s just… strange,” they said, their voice low and tired. “she’s growing up so fast. too fast. i feel like i blinked, and suddenly she’s not my little girl anymore.”

you stayed quiet, letting them find the words.

“i still remember holding her in my arms for the first time,” they continued, their voice thick with emotion. “i remember her first steps, her first word, the first time she looked at me and called out for me. and now… now she’s talking about boyfriends and whatnot.”

they let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through their hair. “i didn’t have this. a proper childhood. a father who cared. i don’t know what i’m doing half the time. i just… i look at her, and i love her so much it terrifies me. so much so that i still don’t understand how my father could—”

“hey,” you interrupted gently, placing a hand on their arm. “you’re nothing like him. you’re such a wonderful parent, C. she loves you so much. you can see it every time she looks at you. and yeah, it’s hard watching her grow up. but that’s the deal. you love them, and you let them go, little by little, so they can become who they’re meant to be.”

C nodded slowly, their eyes softening as they looked at you. “i know you’re right.”

you leaned in, pressing a kiss to their temple. “of course i’m right, i always am.”

they rolled their eyes, but a small, tired smile tugged at the corners of their mouth.

“do you think…” they hesitated, the tips of their ears turning adorably red. “do you think we should have another one?”

“another what?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

they scowled, burying their face in your neck.

“you know what i mean,” they mumbled, their voice muffled. “don’t make me say it out loud.”

you laughed, stroking their hair. “we’ll talk about it in the morning.”

but you already knew the answer.

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Don't Mess With The Doctor's Wife 💘 | Carlisle Cullen Snippet

Twilight Masterlist Part 1

Characters & Pairings: Carlisle Cullen x female!vampire!reader (romantic), Bella Swan x Edward Cullen, Edward Cullen x reader (platonic)

Content warnings: fluff, light angst, suggestive themes right at the end | female reader (she/her) | wc: 1.4k

Premise: Just some good ole fluff of a married vampire couple of a few dumbass teen immortals.

Note: So many people loved 'The Doctor's Wife' and asked if I could continue it! not sure if I'll make it long imagines but I definitely plan on making small snippets like this that is good ole fluff of the golden couple of the Cullens dealing with their chaotic teenage immortal children. Enjoy and thank you so much for the positive reception on my work!

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

“Honey….,” Carlisle leaned against the door of their bedroom, treading carefully on water he knew better than to cross. But their whole family dynamic was at stake and as the patriarch--and coven leader--he needed to fix it. 

Without any bloodshed.

Her glare, however, spoke against his hopes for peace. “Don’t honey me, Carlisle Cullen.” Clothes flung everywhere, the room in utter disarray contrary to its usually unkempt nature. “He is being ridiculous and you know it.” Tossing a pair of Manolo Blahnik pumps into the suitcase she gave him another look, “And yes, I know he can hear me.” Carlisle had opened his mouth, but closed it, his wife not having to the mind reader in the family to know what he was about to say. 

“You have every right to be upset. I’m not happy about the situation either, but we have to do what’s best for our family.”

Carlisle came over to where she was, beginning to pack his clothes into his own suitcase. Brushing away the stray hairs that fell from her hair scarf, Y/n’s eyes turned serious, “What happened was unfortunate--and it is a shame Bella got hurt. He’s been beating himself over it the entire weekend and I understand that, Carlisle. But what I don’t appreciate is him uprooting us and using you as the excuse.”

Following Bella’s birthday party gone wrong, Edward didn’t waste a second in making the executive decision to the family that they had to leave Forks. Saying they were a danger to Bella and to ensure her safety and no more harm comes to her as a result of his doing, they needed to remove themselves from the picture. And Edward’s genius move was to tell Bella it was because the staff at the hospital were starting to notice Carlisle’s lack of aging. 

“His concern is valid. We’ve been here four years now. It was bound to happen.”

“So you’re telling me you’ve heard people talk at the hospital?” She challenged.

“I don’t need to hear them say it aloud, Y/n,” he tells her with a knowing look. “Their stares are enough confirmation. I had one nurse ask me last week if I had a skincare routine.” His attempt at a joke doesn't work. She doesn’t so much as crack a smile, but he tries again. “Soon they’ll be asking what botox doctor I go to.”

Y/n knew Carlisle had a point. It always happened wherever they moved. They settled down, spent maybe five or six years until all the kids graduated from high school for the hundredth time, then did it all over again. If it wasn’t nosy hospital workers, it was teachers. If it wasn’t the bakery owner she frequented asking how she managed to look 27 after seven years, then it was the engineer she was collaborating with on a project. 

“It’s not fair,” she goes on, carefully folding her dress shirts, skirts, and pants. Not looking forward to having to pack up her art studio. All the supplies, artwork, and projects she was working on. “And I feel so awful for her,” her frown made his own appear, “You see the way she looks at him. It’s utter devotion, as though he was a sentient being sent from the heavens. And Edward,” her voice drops to a whisper, “he worships the ground she walks on. And this decision not only punishes her, it punishes him.”

The pair fall into a silence when the front door opens and slams shut. Edward’s lingering scent disapparating, causing Y/n to groan and place her head in her hands. The anger and not caring if her adoptive son heard her rant suddenly vanished. Replaced with shame. 

Carlisle sighs, setting down the pile of towels he folded to walk over to her. Gently grabbing her shoulders, he brings Y/n into a comforting embrace, letting his hands fall to her waist, allowing her to sink into his arms with a content hum. 

“Listen to me,” she closes her eyes, not wanting to meet his gaze where she’ll find judgement. “I sound ridiculous--and I’m being unfair to him and his feelings on the matter.”

“You care for him dearly,” Carlisle strokes her hair, “he understands that. And I think deep down he knows you’re right, but won’t admit to it because he believes he’s doing the right thing for Bella.” Carlisle leans back to look into her eyes, “Remember, he was turned at a young age--and has never experienced this type of love before. He’s learning all this for the first time.”

“I know,” she mumbles, deflated but understanding. They stayed in their embrace for a few minutes before separating to continue packing up. Edward returned later that night with brighter eyes, indicating he had fed to which resolved some of the tension between the two when they finally sat down to have the conversion they’d been dreading. Him apologizing for uprooting the family suddenly, and for the harm he was to cause Bella. And Y/n apologizing for the words she spoke before he left. They hugged it out, neither able to stay mad at the other, and Edward helped her pack the art room throughout the remainder of the night. 

The time away from Forks was odd but somewhat comforting. Carlisle and Y/n decided to spend their time on the island they owned just off the coast of Brazil. Rosalie and Emmett traveled to New York, Alice and Jasper in Mississippi and Edward in Rio de Janeiro. They spoke on the phone frequently, sent letters and postcards, or emailed. Edward would spend a night or two on the island to hunt, Y/n painted canvas after canvas, and Carlisle worked on a medical textbook he was in the process of writing.

“You hear that?” She asked one night when they were cuddling on the couch. A random movie playing on the TV.

“What?”

“It’s quiet,” she whispered, a grin spreading on her lips. “No kids. No animals. No workers. Absolute silence.” Carlisle mirrored her smile. 

“You’re right. We haven’t had complete silence in ages.”

“More like eighty years--give or take,” she snorted. 

When the shit hit the fan in Italy, Y/n nearly killed Edward herself. Not just for the danger he put himself in but for the whole family. Alice and Rosalie also met her wrath--Rosalie for not explaining clearly to Edward the vision, and Alice for dragging Bella to Italy. 

Yeah, none of them wanted the smoke. 

The sight of the three siblings sitting on the couch with their heads down and twiddling their thumbs while Y/n paced in front of them while shouting a motherly tangent had Emmett straining to hold back his laughter. Carlisle didn’t dare intervene. 

Back in Forks the family settled back into their routines. Carlisle in the hospital and Y/n working on projects. The kids in school and planning for the summer. 

Then shit hit the fan again.

This time in the form of a newborn vampire army created by the red-headed lover of the tracker they disposed of the year prior. Victoria. And she was out for revenge against Edward and Bella. 

Y/n was not the fighting type, but that didn’t mean she did not know how to throw down. She could get her hands dirty if she desired. Emmett and Jasper taught her the ropes, Edward taught her how to anticipate opponents moves. 

“C’mon old man!” she dodged Carlisle’s attack, giggling as she pivoted to kick lightly at his chest. “Don’t be getting sleepy on me now. That’s not like you.” Carlisle smirked, catching her off guard by grabbing her waist and flipping her onto the ground.

“I’d watch who you call old, sweetheart,” he mocked right as Jasper yelled, “Never turn your back on your enemy!” 

Let’s just say…they did more than spar that night once the sun went down. 

[starrcrossrose]

🦋“Shelldon, play Mama Mia!”

🌙“Yeah!”

They’re supposed to be doing chores… but the music calls💃🎶

Commission for @/star_sparkler on Twt! I’m so happy she wanted something of August and Sofía, I had so much fun making this!

(Close ups and an extra silly)

They are their fathers’ daughters after all 😗✌🏻💫

[sandraharissa]

I think one of the many things wrong with Jinx this season is how like, half of her personality was cut off and thrown out.

Like her reaction to grief. We see her suicidal after Silco’s death and she’ll be again very suicidal after Isha’s death. Makes sense. Don’t have notes on that part. However I have so much notes on her rage. In s1 we see Powder sometimes responding to bad situation by being shy and sad, but sometimes she reacts in a more adversarial way, like complaining they should try fighting Piltover or trying to stand up to Mylo. But we also get these moments like when she’s left behind and has an absolute meltdown and starts wrecking shit but more importantly her reaction to Silco. He says they’ll show them all and she throws the audience the most rage fueled look you’ve ever seen. When really pushed beyond her limits this is Powder’s emotional reaction to tragedy/being wronged. We see that all throughout acts II and III and we see it when she blows up the council after Silco dies. And that’s the problem cos that’s the part that’s missing from s2. They cut her personality in half and only kept one half. Anger as part of her personality and reaction to grief was discarded when writing her in s2. Even tho she goes through a lot of grieving in s2.

Another example is Isha. Jinx prioritizing family and just chilling? Wanting affectionate interactions with family? Having an easier relationship with a younger family member cos there aren’t any expectations or need to prove anything or gain anyone’s attention? No fear of abandonment/betrayal? She just has this kid who hero worships her and follows her around like a puppy so no stress? No notes. However I have a lot of notes about Jinx’s paranoia and how not normal and possessive and toxic she is about relationships. And I have notes on the generational trauma. Where did all that go? That’s not how ppl work. Living in a messed up society and Silco’s parenting won’t just evaporate like that cos Isha is just so overwhelmingly cute. It’s more likely that Jinx would corrupt the kid. (which you could argue on paper she does cos the kid in the end thought that suicide was dope but why did the narrative frame it as this beautiful thing lol)

And on the topic of fighting Piltover where did “we beat the enforcers with just the four of us imagine what the whole Lanes could do” go? Jinx definitely prioritized family more but she wasn’t neutral or indifferent on the Piltover matter. The enforcers wrong her/hurt her/threaten her family yet again, they kidnapped Isha, and she just acts panicked and sad, but also jokes and quips while on the mission. Where’s the rage and hatred and desire for revenge on the ppl who wronged her? Sometimes it’s just ppl around her being mean or lying or smth, anyone could be her enemy, like Sevika, Silco or Vi, but a lot of the time it’s Piltover, they killed her parents, they were her fathers’ enemies and drove them to hate each other, they chased them as kids and tried to arrest them, they kidnapped and abused Vi in prison all her adolescence, they would have killed Vi so she blew up the whole blockade, Council tried to turn Silco against her and now he’s dead so she bombs them, all her life she can see that the quality of their life is bad bcos of Piltover, she’s in Jayce’s apartment and immediately goes for the sandwich. Jinx doesn’t come off as a very politically/ideologically motivated character but what happened to all her personal beef with Piltover?

They also inexplicably just ceased to write her fucking up all the time. what about her y’know, being a jinx? In s1 even in acts II and III when she is proficient in fighting and bomb-making they still constantly show her being more of a burden and fucking up in other ways. While never explained (which was good) to me it came off as a symptom of trauma and being neurodivergent, like how ADHD kids can’t escape the allegations that they’re lazy, but on a meta level it did make it feel like she was supernaturally cursed. Part of what felt so profound and empowering about s1 finale and her embracing being jinx it that it was her embracing that she’s different (and ‘wrong’ in some ways) and can never live a happy life in the society she lives in and so she lashes out. Now she just chills and nothing ever doesn’t go her way (ig until Isha died but that wasn’t even directly her fault, Isha just acted on her own choice and agency). Suddenly her mental issues don’t exist or get in the way of her socializing and being a part of society. This bigoted, violent and unfair society.

Don’t even get me started on her mannerisms. Remember how she would bite her lip? I’m not sure if she does that even once in s2. “Sister, thought I missed her”??? let Jinx rhyme sometimes and in general say weird shit, not one-liners.

So the only way for the writers to have Jinx do nothing, heal up completely and just chill with a kid in her lair (and really everything else she does (or doesn’t do) this season) is to get rid of half of her personality, the traits that would dictate she take action and feel wrath and lash out/hurt her loved ones in the process.

All of her tragic traits from s1 that made her Jinx were just erased, not changed throughout the course of an arc, absent from the get go, so that they can have her say that Jinx is dead and have it make sense in the context of s2 cos from her very first appearance is s2 this Jinx was devoid of pretty much all of her jinx-y character traits from s1.

[iluvylalevu]

A (Hopefully Coherent) Ramble About What Mal Du Pays Represents

So this might be a little over the place cuz I don’t really do analysis, but the battle with Mal Du Pays has really stuck with me, hear me out (and take this doodle)

So as we know, Mal Du Pays is essentially the embodiment of Siffrin’s self-hatred and intrusive thoughts, but what I find interesting is that it also represents the part of Siffrin that suffers because of it. Mal Du Pays is basically the embodiment of self-destructing thoughts; It spends the battle emotionally torturing Siffrin, but it also spends the battle silently screaming and crying.

And the name meaning “homesickness” is also a detail I find fascinating because most of the things Mal Du Pays says have little to do with the forgotten country, with the exception being Odile’s remarks about the lack of a home equating to a lack of identity. Homesickness is characterized by longing; yearning for the warmth and familiarity of home while being away from it, yet most of what Mal Du Pays says has to do with the party. To Siffrin, his party is home. While it pains them greatly that their country and entire childhood are gone, the thought of losing his new family terrifies and pains him more. He spent so long belonging nowhere, they’re terrified of losing the one place he feels like he belongs to now. He wants to be with them really badly, to the point he was subconsciously willing to hold them hostage.

Siffrin is a person made for loving. He loves strongly and wants to be loved back, but paradoxically this is also the reason he hates himself. They think it’s selfish to want that love back, they think their happiness shouldn’t come first or even come second, it shouldn’t be important at all; it’s their family who is lovable, it’s them who deserve happiness, not him, because he isn't like them, he's a nobody who belongs nowhere. Siffrin is a person who loves strongly but doesn’t lend that love to himself.

Unfortunately, this self-hatred also manifests in paranoia. Because they think themself unworthy of love they also project this onto their friends, thinking they’ll hate him if he reveals the “real” him, that they’ll turn heel as soon as they can because he’s so deplorable.

The party, in reality, loves Siffrin, but that love gets filtered through Siffrin’s self-hatred and comes back out as a mess of self-imposed conditions, “they’ll hate me if I do this” “They’ll hate me if I say that”, none of which is true, but they wholeheartedly believe it is, and it hurts him

Mal Du Pays also being unable to be harmed by Siffrin is something I feel is so important. Beating this part of himself into submission is essentially what he’s been trying to do the whole game and it doesn’t work, you can’t beat yourself up and expect that to make you feel better. Mal Du Pays, as aggressive as it is, isn’t a battle that needs to be won it’s a wound that needs to be healed

[xmalereader]

Miguel O’Hara X Black Cat! Male Reader || 2 ||

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|| Masterlist ||

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Authors note: You all tempted me to make a second part…this one isn’t really a continuation but a small mini snippet of reader and Miles little dynamic again because you all enjoyed it! Again, Spanish words are mentioned, fluent and Latino myself. Also thank you for 6.8K followers!!

Summary: Reader is Black Cat in Miguel’s universe who is married to the leader of the spider society and who’s also taken a liking towards Miles who has invited him to his families party.

Warnings: Slight ATSV spoilers, fluff, angst, slight language, Spanish words ( fluent ), past experiences, dancing, parties, Miguel and reader have a moment, sarcasm, mentions of sex, second chances, found family.

Word count: 2.6k

- || Part One || Part Three ||

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“You want him to what?”

Miguel stared down at the fifteen year old, hands on his hips with a confused look on his face while also raising a brow. Clearly he didn’t understand the teens question nor did he want too.

“I want to invite Y/n to my fathers celebration of him becoming captain.” Repeated Miles with a faint and nervous smile on his face. After spending his time in the spider society he’s gotten adjusted to the routine in HQ and knew the rules that he wasn’t suppose to break and one was not to mess with Miguel or do anything to upset the man. Miles didn’t want to upset Miguel, but had no choice in asking for the mans permission in allowing Y/n to come over to his families party.

Due to Y/n being a thief and Miguels ex-ish husband he’s been under house arrest in HQ, meaning that he wasn’t allowed to leave HQ without Miguel’s permission even though the man had escaped many times and had been chased down by Miguel. The two chasing each other through different universe to the point where Miguel was tempted to chain the cat down due to constant escaping.

“You know he can’t leave.”

“Come on, Mig!” Y/n voice echos through the lab, getting both of their attention as he jumps down from the ceiling, emerging from the shadows as he wore his suit and lands a cat next to Miles before standing up straight and smirking at Miguel. “It’s just a party, I’ll behave.” He purrs out in a teasing matter, knowing how much his husband hated it but also loved it at the same time.

Miguel glared at him, baring his fangs as he opens his mouth to protest only for Y/n to beat him to it. “Why don’t you come too? You can keep an eye on me?” He suggests, getting Miguel to close his mouth as the other man thinks.

Y/n raises his brows in surprise, not believing that the man would actually think about the idea as he glanced down at Miles who shrugs in return. It only took Miguel a few minutes before he’s agreeing to the idea. “Very well.”

“Yes!” Miles fist bumps the air as he jumps in excitement, turning to Y/n with a large smile on his face. “My parents are going to love you!”

“Don’t you think they will find it weird or suspicious that their fifteen year old son is hanging around someone nearing their thirties who is also a thief?” Y/n questions, a bit worried on how Miles parents would think about him being around their son, clearing not knowing that he was Spider-Man who was being trained under the cities number one thief who Miguel despised.

“Nah, they’ll like you. Just work your charm on them.” Said Miles, getting the black cat to grin at his words. “I’ll be charming for sure.”

Miguel groans at his words, rolling his eyes. “Before you two go, I need you to do a mission for me as pay back for forcing me to go with you.”

“Technically you weren’t invited.” Miles mumbled under his breath, but loud enough for both adults to hear.

“What did you say?” Miguel sharply turns to Miles while Y/n holds back a laugh, covering his mouth and looking away as Miles quickly says ‘nothing’.

Y/n swallows down his laughter and clears his throat while winking at the kid and bumping his shoulder in a humorous manner before the two focused back on Miguel. “You two should never be in the same room together.” Said Miguel earning himself an eye roll from Y/n as he placed his hand no his hip. “Yeah, well you can’t get rid of my kid. I found him and he’s mine now.”

“You can’t just claim some kid.”

“Well I just did!”

The two adults began to argue, again. The usual routine for many spiders.

Whenever Y/n and Miguel were together they always found a way to break into an argument, fighting like a married couple and growing heated with each other. Clearly everyone in the room can feel the sexual tension between the two that a couple of traumatized spiders may or may not have walked in on the two before, causing them to avoid Miguel at all times. Too embarrassed to face the man who was balls deep into his husband.

The two have tried to be careful more often, but sometimes when their letting out their frustrations on each other it tends to be on the most random time of the day and random place.

Miles can only watch the two, going back and forth at the two before checking his own watch to see the time. “Oh no! I forgot about the cakes—gotta go! See you tonight!” Miles quickly shouts out as he ran out of the lab, leaving both Miguel and Y/n on their own as the two watch Miles run out of the lab.

“Well, I guess my house arrest is lifted.” Y/n uses his pointer finger to tap Miguel on the check in a mocking matter before taking steps backwards and making his way towards the exit. “See you tonight!”

“The mission—!”

“Find someone else, sweetheart!” Y/n laughs out as he uses his own watch to open a portal into Miles universe, jumping through and appearing back in his penthouse that he was able to purchase with the things he stole, humming to himself happily as the portal closed behind him, finally giving him the privacy to remove his suit and get himself prepared for Miles family party. He wasn’t one to socialized, but for Miles he would do anything for that kid.

After the discovery of Miguel and Y/n’s relationship and that fact that he was a variant of a familiar thief to many spidermen, he wasn’t too surprised when they would all give him cautious stares. Later finding out that many of the black cats that they’ve met had either betrayed or used their Spider-Man in order to get what they wanted. It surprised everyone when they found out that he was far more different than they thought.

Very little knew about his and Miguels relationship; they worked in their universe and loved each other. Still do.

Many of the black cats became a thief or who they are now due to a poor life or wanting to help a family figure while Y/n became who he was due to the death of Miguels daughter, needing to find an escape from the grief and found relief in stealing.

He was still loyal to Miguel, not once did he bat an eye for another man or women always wearing his wedding ring underneath the gloves he wore. Both Miguel and Y/n can argue all they want and claim that they can’t stand each others presences but the universe always brought them back together, it was their canon.

While Y/n got ready for the party he tried his best not to overdress, wearing something less formal and more casual and also making sure that he always came with something not wanting to show any bad manners as he took the extra time to bake some cookies for the party and smiled proudly at his own work once he was done and ready.

He didn’t need Miles address, clearly already knowing where the kid lived as he made his way through the streets of New York and towards Miles apartment building where he can hear the loud music playing and the sound of laughter above him, making him tilt his head back a bit to see some lights hanging on the side of the building.

“Going in?”

He’s startled by Miguels voice, turning around to come face to face with his husband. “Wha—whoa…” Y/n’s eyes slowly widen, his pupils dilating when the land on him, taking in his casual wear that he hasn’t seen in a while always seeing him in his spider suit and working.

“You look—“

Miguel raised a brow while grinning slowly.

“Good.” Y/n finishes, clearing his throat and trying to mask the blush rising to his cheeks and focused back on why they were here. “We should head in before Miles starts calling me to hurry up.” He held the tray of cookies in his hands and ignores Miguel's chuckle as the two walk inside the apartment building and making their way up the stairs. Now, Y/n was a known thief and skilled fighter and could take down a group of men on his own and yet somehow, he couldn’t face a simple party full of nice people and possibly gossip.

“Estas nervioso?”

Y/n swallows, looking over his shoulder to see Miguel staring at him with the softest look one that he knew too well. “Focus on your breathing and only think about how fast this will go by.” Miguel whispers near his ear, leaning forward while the other sighs deeply, giving himself a small reassured nod before the two step through the door and onto the crowded rooftop where they are greeted with music, laughter, and couples dancing.

“You made it!”

Y/n looks up ahead to see Miles pushing through the crowd as he waves his hands in the air with excitement, stumbling in his step and nearly tripping over himself and Y/n is quick to catch the kid, extending an arm out and catching him. “Whoa, easy kid. I get that your excited, we technically see each other every day.”

“I know, but we’re usually doing hero stuff. This is different.” Miles was smiling widely, eyes full of enthusiasm which doesn’t go unnoticed by the black cat himself. “Guess you’re right about that.”

“I still have to keep an eye on you.”

Miguels voice startles the two, clearly forgetting about his quiet presence. “Geez, maybe you should wear a bell you are quieter than me.” States Y/n, still not used to the fact of Miguel being quieter than him.

“You should wear that bell, not me.” Miguel shot back as Y/n sticks his tongue out at him in a childish manner.

“Miles!”

The three turn towards the direction of the voice only to see Miles mother approaching her son with a faint smile. “Mijo, did you invite these two?” She asks with a kind smile on her face, hand on her sons shoulder.

Miles suddenly grows bashful as he scratched the back of his neck nervously. “Mom this is Y/n, who I told you about and his Husband Miguel.” He introduces, catching his mother by surprise. “Oh! You’re Y/n—Miles talks fondly of you, I didn’t expect you to be so…” She can’t form the words but Y/n expected this reaction.

“Older? I know, I’ve told Miles that you would be worried to know that his son is hanging around someone twice his age but no worries I treat him like family and make sure that he isn’t causing any trouble for his parents.”

Miles Mother chuckled. “Thank you for keeping an eye on him, you can call me Rio.”

“Likewise.” He holds the plate of cookies out to her with a smile. “I didn’t want to come empty handed its bad manners.”

“Wow, how nice of you. Please help yourselves with anything.”

Y/n nods at her words and turns back to Miles when she walks away to place the cookies with the rest of the food. “See? Not so bad.”

“Wait until you meet my dad.”

Miguel suddenly speaks up. “Why do I feel weird not being acknowledged?”

“Because, women know everything. One look is all it takes and they know everything, its scary. She probably immediately knew about your true intentions with me.” He points an accusing finger at him as Miguel scoffs. “We’re married.”

“Technically divorced.”

“I see no divorce papers.” He crossed his arms over his chest, smirking at Y/n who glared up at him. “I’ll fuck you up.” He threatens which Miguel only finds adorable.

It didn’t take long for them to meet Miles father who was kind but also protective of his son, interrogating him a bit until Y/n works his charm and provides the new chief a gift, congratulating him on his new position and wishing him luck. His sudden flattery gets the teens father all flustered and speechless as he accepts the gift and him. Gaining the trust of both parents and getting the chance to know them further.

The party went on longer than any usual party, everyone was happily chatting away with their own family and friends while others danced to the music. The amount of excitement gets to Y/n, dragging Miguel onto the dance floor as the two danced away to Merengue music. It took Y/n some time to adjust to the fast pace while Miguel got it on the spot, making Y/n jealous by how fast he adapts to the music and dancing.

Miguel takes him by the waist and pulls him in close, the two panting heavily from the dancing as Y/n laughs. “Curse you and your Mexican genes.” Miguel chuckled. “Not my fault I dance better than you.” The two laugh, breathless from their dancing before moving away from the dance floor and much more private area where the music wasn’t too loud, finding their way on the edge of the roof top, sitting next to each other as they looked at the view ahead of them.

“I missed this.” Y/n voice is soft and genuine, eyes still focused on the city as Miguel glanced at him, licking his lips. “Parties?”

Y/n chuckles. “No, us.”

This causes a small faint smile to appear on Miguels lips as Y/n kept talking. “I missed feeling like this, so free and happy…I know we had our difficulties in the past and we lost so much.” He turns to face Miguel. “I don’t want to argue anymore or let the past catch up to us. I know—you miss her. I do too, believe me the amount of times I couldn’t stop thinking about her whenever I see things that remind me of her, but I know that she would want me to move on to start over again and I did.” He nods over his shoulder towards the group of people who were full of happiness and smiling faces, towards Miles who had his face buried in his hands as his parents speak about his embarrassing moments, getting the kid flustered.

Y/n sighs contently, turning back to face Miguel who was staring at the crowd before him, taking in his husbands words as he sighs with a small nod. “You make it look so easy.”

“But its not.” Y/n says. “It never will.”

Miguel lets out a dry chuckle his finger fidgeting nervously with his wedding ring. He’s suffered the most with the lose of his daughter. When he first introduced his daughter to Y/n when they were first dating, he was nervous at first only for Y/n to quickly fall in love with her, taking care of her as a parent and being there when Miguel couldn’t, deepening their relationship even more. Miguel had the family he always wanted only for him to lose it in a matter of seconds after his daughters death, pushing Y/n away and creating useless arguments with each other not knowing that he was pushing away the only person he ever had left.

Now, here he sat. Being given a second chance to start over.

“I’m willing to try.” Miguel whispers, getting Y/n’s attention who smiled at is husband, reaching out to take his hand into his own. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you on the way.”

[ulltraviolences]

let the light in | haymitch abernathy

pairing: haymitch abernathy x fem!covey!reader

synopsis: deciding to indulge in old habits after a particularly hard night & glimpses of his past life, haymitch doesn’t expect to be comforted by the voice of a beautiful songbird in the hob of 12.

warnings: mentions of war, canon violence, ptsd, alcohol, mention of blood, flirting, age gap (reader is in early 20s), slight sexual themes, kissing, fluff-ish, sweet haymitch

song included: the ballad of lucy gray baird

a/n: this is something I’ve had for so long in my drafts & now that we’ve got the prequel announcement, what better time than to post it! <3

Maysilee’s loud screeches echo through the trees, the mockingjay’s repeating the blood curdling sound as they start to encircle him. Haymitch’s feet moving fast beneath him against the dirt trail in order to lose the career pack behind him. His movements beginning themselves before his mind can process them and the fact that she’s gone. The wind being his sole helper in drying the tears that threaten to keep flowing, catching a glimpse of his hands still stained red from the way he held her before she passed.

The only thing on his mind now being that he survives this, for her, for his family, for his district, and more importantly so he can show that they don’t control him.

━━━━━━━━━━━━���━━━━━

The sound of glass shattering against the hardwood floor is what finally pulls his consciousness out of the nightmare of the arena. Flailing his arms around as if to protect himself from ever being touched again, haymitch is quick to his feet to stand up and surveil the empty dining room for the slight hint of the ghost of a past tribute looking to attempt to take his life once more.

He stands completely still as he finally takes into account his surroundings, his heart still pumping out an extra beat per minute and silently waiting as he catches his breath. it’s just a dream. you survived. you’re here. you’re home. He repeats the mantra in his head over and over again till it hopefully sticks this time.

It isn’t until he feels a slight trickle drip down onto the table that he sees the fallen glass shatter all over the floor and mixed with the hint of crimson from the shards stuck to his palm.

It feels like a cruel joke almost, a reminder. The blood that he’ll forever have stuck to his hands. The mess of blood that no matter how hard he tries to clean up will just keep flowing in an endless cycle no matter what he does to prevent it from happening again.

A bitter chuckle escapes him at the thought. Amused by his own misery and the situation he’s found himself in. He backs up and slowly treks himself to the kitchen sink to turn on the faucet, relishing in the slight sting that the lukewarm water elicits from his wounded hand.

A small price to pay for the families he thinks about every waking moment that he’s, no doubt, wounded for life by surviving the games against their children. Their loved ones that they’ll never get the chance to see again. Yet, whose faces and names haunt him every night since he’s stepped foot out of that arena.

The pain of not only them but his parents. His sisters. His girl. And Maysilee. Her family. People who he couldn’t save even here at home and after the games. All because he wanted to show them, the capitol, that they couldn’t control him they way they did everyone else.

The growing pit in his stomach now feeling inescapable the longer he stands in front of the running faucet. Shaking his head, he slams the faucet switch off, grabbing the alcohol beside him to disinfect the wound. Hissing and banging his leg against the drawer beneath his sink when when the liquid hits his palm. He slowly bends down to open the drawer and finds the bandaging wrap that he keeps for instances like these, which have happened to become routine for him. He bandages up the rest of his hand until he looks down and hums in slight satisfaction at his work.

As soon as he’s finished, his mind is already preoccupied with what the next choice, or beverage, of distraction he is in need of. It can’t be here though. Anywhere but the empty, cold house in the almost unoccupied, lone victor’s village.

Walking towards the front door, he quickly shrugs on a light coat and his boots. Stepping out into the cool, autumn night out in district 12. He continues down the path towards the main part of the district. Letting the sound of the wind be the only thing present in his mind before he decides to sit down at the hob and think more about his decisions in life so far.

As he nears the hob, he can hear the slight sound of music making its way through the open doors to the outside. Both young and old residents of the district out tonight and drinking, the only semblance of fun and normalcy you’ll find them indulging in despite the circumstances of their situations.

He walks in, immediately making a straight beeline towards the bar. Trying as hard as he can to ignore the lingering stares and pointed whispers of those who recognize him. The only lone alive victor of district 12. Eyes filled with both curiosity and pity as they follow his frame to the bar. All were surprised that he had decided to grace them with his presence for once. As his absence was growing long enough for him to almost be forgotten till the painful reminder on reaping day each year.

Haymitch settles onto the stool near the end of the bar, ordering whatever scarce brew is available for the night. Once it’s placed in front of him, it’s almost gone just as it was full. Already raising his hand to catch the attention of the bartender for another glass. Opting to ignore the judgmental stare and low warning given to him before the bartender hesitantly slides another glass his way.

Lost in thought of the nights earlier events and his second helping of beer, his mind is pulled away by the loud cheers of the people in the hob. Still nursing his beer, he takes a small peak from the corner of his eye to where everyone else’s attention is on to the girl twirling her way onto the stage with guitar in hand.

He’s a bit taken aback for a second, not ever having seen much of her before around the district or even hearing of her name. Yet, he might be the only clueless one as to who this girl is, he thinks. Spotting even, off duty peacekeepers who’ve decided to join in once they see the young woman take the stage.

“Well hey y’all!”, The girl beams, “Now just how might all of you fine folks out here in district 12 must be doing tonight?”

The crowd roars in excitement at the question. Never had he ever seen in life someone command the attention of a majority of a district in such a way that wasn’t related to the games. In a joyful way, nonetheless.

“Alright! Alright! Settle down y’all, I hear you all quite clearly, no need to go rupturing my ears now!”, You say as you playfully roll yours eyes at the crowd, “For those of you who may not know, or have been living under a rock, my name is Y/n Ivory!”

As the crowd around him laughs at the charming display of your personality in full force, Haymitch finds out he’s not immune to the power of your charisma either. He finds himself, still secluded in the dark corner of the room, cracking a small smile at your undeniable stage presence.

Pale white dress flowing freefully over your body landing just right above your knees with flowers woven through your hair and all. You’re the purest untainted vision of beauty he’s ever seen dancing in a place that has seen so much violence and pain as 12. It’s a wonder, he thinks to himself, how he’s gone so long without ever seeing or hearing of you.

He doesn’t know if he should be mad at himself for not getting out more or grateful for the fact that he chose to leave tonight. By having it lead him right here tonight as he watches you illuminate the room with every step you take and smile never breaking off of your face for even a second.

“Now don’t you worry, I’m gonna sing y’all a special one tonight,” you say, strumming the guitar as you continue to speak, “this one is a little tune some of you might know, a ballad we’ve all heard passed down, figured something slow is fitting for a nice night like this”

Haymitch watches you slightly clear your throat a little as you strum the chords on your worn leather guitar. He marvels at the intactness of it, such a prized possession to be in hold of that he’s sure has seen so much in its time. Figuring to himself that it has to be some sort of heirloom, as he knew at least no one, not even him, could afford such a luxury except if you lived in the capitol.

“ When I was a babe I fell down in the holler

when I was girl I fell into your arms

we fell on hard times and we lost our bright color

you went to the dogs and I lived by my charms ”

Your voice is sweet, he thinks. Melodically beautiful, just as he expected, yet it doesn’t take away his surprise nonetheless. The glide of the strings paired with your voice forces him to shake his head a bit just to make sure he wasn’t dead yet from the alcohol and your voice was mistaken as angel from above.

He concludes that regardless, there’s not much of a difference. As he takes in your frame, almost floating above the crowd as high as the sound of your lungs can take you, he figures that you might as well be an angel.

“ I danced for my dinners, spread kisses like honey

you stole and you gambled, and I said you should

we sang for our suppers, we drank up our money

then one day you left, saying I was no good

well, all right, I’m bad, but then you’re no prize either

all right, I’m bad, but then, that’s nothing new

you say you won’t love me, I won’t love you neither

just let me remind you what I am to you

‘cause I am the one who looks out when you’re leaping

I am the one who knows how you were brave

and I am the one who heard what you said sleeping

I’ll take that and more to my grave ”

The lyrics are familiar, he concludes to himself. He remembers the ballad well, one his mother would often sing to him & his sisters when they were younger. It would be a way for her to calm them down each night before a reaping.

He remembers the stories she would tell along with it, of how before the rebellion, there were these people who’d call themselves, “covey”, traveling from district to district singing to their hearts content for the enjoyment of others. She knew them well, she’d tell them. Telling them how the covey eventually settled into district 12.

His mother would talk about the nights where she would go to the hob and dance away. Making great friends with the girl who sang these infamous songs that had been passed down. The girl who also coincidentally introduced his mother to his father one night. Pushing his father until he asked his mother for a dance.

She would end each story by telling Haymitch, “well, now you know that you have someone to be thankful for making sure that you exist”.

The story seemed so mythical to him then, as it still does now. To think of a time when there was so much free will that people once held, especially outside of the Capitol’s restraints. To how something so frivolous as singing was enough to be one’s way of survival. A life of fulfillment and light melodies sung with no threat or existence of the games to ever ruin them.

The sound of Y/N’s voice sweetly coaxes him out of his thoughts. It is then, as he hears her, that he does believe in the stories. That if he continued to hear her voice for the rest of his life, it would be enough to ensure his survival for good. Not even the games would be enough to take him away from her. Not if he could help it.

This line of thinking scares him as it does entice him. He hasn’t felt this way since his first love, the one that they took away him. He feels like a teenager once again, heart practically bursting at the sight of the girl in front of him.

Her eyes roam the crowd as she continues singing, before they eventually catch his awe stricken expression. She smiles slightly, lightly fluttering her lashes at the attention. All before closing her eyes, swaying and losing herself in the music once again.

Not one for ever caring about appearances, he suddenly feels hyper aware of himself. He’s not used to feeling like this, he’s not quite sure how to process it. Just desperate, hoping that when her eyes linger a bit longer on him that she hopefully is feeling what he is too.

When she eventually looks away, he finds a part of himself chasing the high that she had bestowed upon him. Thinking how nothing could ever compare to the way he’s feeling now, not even the smooth liquor that would soothe his mind enough to make him forget things that have happened to him.

Now abandoning the half drank pint in front of him, he finds himself wanting to remember this night. This moment where he doesn’t need anything stronger than your presence to tell him that everything is okay.

The song ends, much to his dismay. The last few chords of your guitar lingering in the air before the hob breaks out in a harmonious applause, praises & hollers being shouted out your way. He watches you graciously thank the crowd, letting the band behind you take over. His eyes linger on you as you exit the stage, watching you laugh & thank everyone who meet on your way through the crowd.

It isn’t until he sees your frame slowly getting nearer that he suddenly feels shy, quickly diverting his attention down to his drink. Hands getting slightly clammy as he registers your sweet voice beside him, asking the bartender for a pint for yourself.

“Well my, my, to what do I owe the pleasure of dragging a victor out to one of my shows tonight?”, you say while letting out a slight giggle at the sight of him.

He’s a bit bewildered at first. Not exactly not knowing how to respond out of fear of embarrassing himself. His mouth slightly opens, letting out a playful scoff at the nickname victor, before replying back in the same playful manner you had.

“Just had to come down to hear what all the yapping around the district was about a pretty girl singing her heart out here each night”, he lightly flirts, hoping it lands well with her.

The action is thankfully welcomed as her laugh floats through the air. He wishes he could bottle the sound up so he could hear it over and over again.

“Now you’re just a peach aren’t you? Trying to butter me up .. hm?”, she says. Poking fun at his attempt of flirting before adding on, “And? Did I meet your expectations?”

His heart flutters at the question, chuckling to mask his nervousness that she so easily seems to trigger.

“That you did, sweetheart. Better than I could’ve thought”, he says, relishing in the way her wide eyed expression lights up at the praise he gives to her.

He feels himself mirroring her contagious smile. Nerves still present, but easing themselves when he sees her relaxing into his gaze.

“You’re a very sweet man, Haymitch Abernathy”, you tell him. Warmth slightly flooding your cheeks as his eyes remained fixed on you.

Quickly, taking the opportunity to glance away from the intense eye contact to take in the details about him. You take notice of the way his hair falls around his face, carefully framing it in a way that was too-professionally done to be of his own doing as the rest of the men in the district. A small testament to his time back and forth between his home and the calling of the Capitol. His slightly rugged appearance combats this, a small show of rebelliousness in the appearance the Capitol attempts to smooth over in a Victor, yet still seeming so distinctively him.

To anyone else, his demeanor would have been enough to ward off lingering stares here in the district. To you, it radiated a rare aura of comfort & warmth around him that you had never felt around another man before. You had wanted to get lost in it, envisioning yourself spending late mornings, running your fingers through his locks and humming a secret tune just for you both.

He chuckled dryly, swirling around the ale in his pint before glancing back up at you, “Sorry to disappoint sweetheart, tell anyone else here that and you might get a different answer”.

He watches as you cock your head to the side, a sly smile on your face, “Well good thing I wasn’t planning on asking anyone else”, sternness lacing your tone before scooting closer towards him, “Anyways, I think I like that I might be the only one in this damn district that can tell the difference”.

Haymitch could feel the way the way his heartbeat practically sped up, his hands fidgeting around the handle of the pint in front of him. Taking a deep breath before turning his attention back to the way your wide eyed gaze is fixated on him, eyes slowly analyzing him as if he’ll run right off. The thought crossed his mind for a minute, more so out of fear of embarrassing himself.

Taking a leap of faith, he brings his hand up to run his hand through a lock of your hair, tucking it behind the flower adorned between your ear. He hums at the pretty detail before plucking it to hold out in his palm, “A primrose?”.

You can feel your body still at the motion, warmth pooling in your chest at the feel of his hand. Carefully eyeing his expression, something that reads as a mixture of wonder and adoration at you. You remember to let out a small breath in the midst of the intimacy this situation, softly smiling as he hums in notice of the flower that lays against your hair.

“It was one of my mama’s favorites”, he can feel the wistfulness in your tone as you recall her, “She used to tell me stories of how my grandma and her great aunt would collect different flowers from their travels in the covey to use to bathe her and her cousins, since the borders between districts closed in the dark days, she gathered primroses here from the fields instead for me”.

He takes notice of the way you softly grasp onto his hand, your smooth palm contrasting with his hardened one and its tiny scars littered that hold unspoken memories of the arena. Your finger lightly traces the petals he holds in his palm, he watches as the mixture of nostalgia and sadness battle in your mind as you recall these memories.

Haymitch feels his own heart twinge, thinking back to what he can remember of his own mother, her voice, her stories, her mannerisms, anything. There’s a thick layer of understanding in the air between the two of you, unspoken feelings and experiences of loss and familiarity. The scattered chattering of the hob and instrumentals seem far away as the two of you take in each other’s presence.

He makes the first move to break the stillness between you two, bringing his hand back up to place the flower in your hair once again. You sigh softly as you feel his hand go to cup your cheek, the pad of his thumb softly tracing back & forth on your skin. Haymitch feels the ghost of a smile threatening to overtake his lips as he feels your nestle your face further into his grasp before asking, “Would you wanna get out of here?”.

You softly nod at his question, not trusting your own voice to betray you and tremble at the delicateness in which he’s treating you. Standing up, you envelope your hand into his as his other finds it’s way onto your waist to lead you through the crowd. A motion so easily done as if it is second nature to you both. There is nothing but comfort and safeness in the act.

The cold air hits you both as you walk out, not feeling quite sure if the goosebumps forming on your skin is a result of that or the proximity of the man that still has a firm hold on you. You don’t seem to mind either way. You take a small peek over to him, watching the internal battle with himself as it plays on his face, eyebrows creased in deep thought. Yet still, he holds onto you, as if it’ll ground him.

You stop walking after a minute or so, watching the confusion in his expression as he snaps out of his thoughts. You pull him over to the small alley way, taking his face in both of your hands and forcing him to look into your eyes. His eyes trace over your questioning expression, taking a hard swallow before he speaks, “I .. I haven’t done this in a long time, sweetheart”.

“And what exactly are we doing?”, you say while lightly laughing.

He feels his nerves dissipate little by little at the sound of your amusement, still battling with the lingering fear in the back of his mind. He hesitates in his action, slowly leaning in to rest his forehead against yours, hands tightening their hold around your waist.

He can feel your breath hitch, your nose slightly touching against his own as your lips part, begging for him to make a move.

“If I do this, I don’t think I’d want to ever have another day where you’re not near me, at least to where I know you’re safe”, he whispers gently as his lips begin to ghost above yours.

“You won’t have to, I’ll be right here”, you whisper back. Your voice filled with reassurance and desperation, willing to give almost every part of you to him if it takes.

You feel the wind knocked out of you, as if you’ve forgotten to know how to breathe once you feel his lips against your own. Your mouths molding perfectly against one another as if this is what you’ve both have been waiting for your entire lives.

You whine softly as he deepens the kiss, his mouth claiming you with purpose. Whether it’s his way of subconsciously ensuring to himself that he won’t let anything happen to you or to convey his own worthiness to you, he can’t tell. The only thing taking up space in his mind being the way you sound as he familiarizes himself with you, tongue exploring yours while his hands grasp at your body.

You both finally break apart after what feels like an eternity, your heart racing as you try to catch your breath. Unable to shake the burning feeling of that his lips left against yours in their wake. Your lids flutter open, already finding his gaze with what reads as both love and protectiveness staring back at you.

“I …”, he clears his throat before finding a way to gather the right words he wants to say to you. He goes over every possibility of what this could mean between the two of you, of letting you in. It would be easier if he could just act like this was meaningless, that he could walk away now and never think of it again. But as with everything else, he knows that you will ruminate in the back of his mind forever with no avail. Not now that he already has you in his arms.

“I won’t be able to give you much”, is all he is able to choke out. A twinge of disappointment lacing his words.

“That’s okay, I’m not looking for much anyways”, you hum. You tip your head up slightly to look at him, “Just want you, it’ll be enough for me”.

“Yeah?”, he says softly. His eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt, relief blossoming in his chest when he doesn’t find any. The only thing staring back him being the firmness in your vulnerability as you hold him in your palm. He pulls his hand from your waist to grab ahold of your hand against his face, bringing your knuckles to his lips, before leaning back in to press another kiss to your lips.

A part of him knows that it’ll always never be this simple. He will do his best to make sure he can protect you from what he can, if it ever comes to it. But right here, right now, in this moment. It’s not something even, Snow himself, can ever take from him.

[bad268]

kimi x toto wolffs daughter like fluff of their families and how they reacted and how they treat kimi

+ can you do a kimi antonelli oneshot where the reader is Toto and Susie's daughter and its when Kimi came to watch Jack's race (if you know what I mean) and him and reader are already together but it's just all adorable.

thank you!!

I've Never Lost (Andrea Kimi Antonelli X Wolff! Reader)

Fandom: RPF/F2/F3

Requested: Clearly (I combined these two, hope yall don't mind)

Warnings: None

POV: Second Person (You/your)

W.C. 1191

Summary: What started as a family outing has turned into a bet, and Kimi doesn't lose.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

Ever since you were teenagers, it was a tradition to go out karting with your family. It was standard procedure to go karting during the off-season or non-race weekends. Granted, you were never a driver, but once you started dating Kimi, he said he would drive you around the tracks. Before you and Kimi started dating, you would just watch Jack and your parents race, but now, you were finally able to join in the fun.

It was the middle of summer break, and Kimi was leading the F2 championship and ready to sign a contract with Mercedes for 2026. It was time for your regularly scheduled karting competition. 

This was the first time Kimi was going to be joining. You had told him before that you wanted to race with your family, so he made sure he would be able to go out with you and get to know your family as your family and not his boss. 

“I’m gonna win,” Jack boasted as he led the way into the karting track. Your mom and dad laughed, following hand-in-hand behind him. You and Kimi were just behind Jack, chasing him toward the entrance of the track. “I’m gonna bet you and Kimi and Papa and Mama because I’m the best.”

“I bet you are, Jacky,” You laughed as you caught up behind him and threw him over your shoulder. Kimi fell back a little as he chuckled at your antics with your brother. He knew this was what you two were like, but it was always funny seeing it in person. It only happened a few times around the paddock since you two were more conscious of your images in front of so many cameras, but in the track in the middle of nowhere, you two were free to be as rambunctious as you wanted.

Jack and your parents never complained. You didn’t have the most normal childhood with growing up surrounded by fast cars that could kill you. You had nothing holding you back out here, and Jack loved to mess around with his older sibling.

“You better not go easy,” Toto chucked as he and Susie walked passed Kimi who had stopped and watched you spin Jack around upside down from your shoulders. How he got in that position, nobody knows. Kimi’s attention snapped over to Toto at that moment in confusion at first before he continued his advice. “They’ll both be mad if they find out you went easy. They’re both extremely competitive. And this is Y/n’s first time in a kart after some time, so you should make it memorable.”

“You won’t be mad if we win?” Kimi countered with a smirk. He had grown up around Toto and Susie enough to view them as second parents, but he also had to remember they were his bosses. However, right now is a family outing, not a work event. It was everyone for themselves.

“You say that like your double seater is going to beat three single seaters,” Susie laughed when she came back into the conversation with passes for everyone to get on the track. “But go ahead and think you still stand a chance.”

“Oh bring it on,” Kimi challenged as he held his hand out for her to shake, “Why don’t we place a bet? Loser buys dessert?”

“Just you and me or if any of us beat you two?” Susie teased before agreeing.

“I’ll take my chances with all three of you,” Kimi replied with a smirk since he couldn’t keep a straight face. He gestured down to his outstretched hand again, “So, do we have a deal?”

“Consider it made,” Susie responded as she shook his hand before handing him the two passes for you and him to get the kart. Kimi turned around to see you and Jack still messing about, so he went over to tell you what was going on.

“Jack, come over here,” Toto called, causing you to almost drop him, but you gently set him down on his back on the asphalt. Jack jumped up and ran over to Toto, thinking something was wrong. “We need to strategize.” Toto and Susie then took Jack down to the track and started planning for how they were going to win.

“Did we do something wrong?” You asked as you walked in step with Kimi and took your pass to show the marshals.

“No, but I made a bet with your parents, so they need to strategize,” Kimi explained as he threw an arm around your shoulder while you sat trackside until the session before you were finished. 

“You? Made a bet? With my parents? Your bosses? Willingly? Who are you?” You joked as you placed the back of your hand on his forehead, checking for a temperature. “You don’t have a temperature. Are you sure you’re fine?”

“I’m perfectly fine,” He chuckled, pushing your hand away from his forehead and instead held it against his cheek. “You always say to let loose around them more. I’m just taking your advice.”

“You’re learning, I’m impressed,” You teased, moving your finger to tap his nose. “Next, you’ll be rough-housing with Jack and me.”

“I think I’ll stick with things that don’t hurt me,” Kimi scoffed with a smile as he pulled you closer into his chest while you watched the karts go around.

“Oh, and bets don’t hurt your pockets? I see how it is, rich man,” You joked as you leaned your entire body weight into him. “Do I at least get to know what the bet is before the race?”

“Loser buys dessert after,” Kimi chuckled.

“We’re in a double seater, dummy!” You exclaimed in shock. “They’re gonna be so much quicker than us! You made a bet you know you’d lose!”

“One, you underestimate my driving ability. Two, you think that wasn’t the point? Think how much harder Jack will try to win knowing there’s something at stake,” Kimi explained, and your jaw dropped. This reverse psychology was going to win your brother over in a heartbeat. “Plus, I know Jack and your parents are insanely competitive. I know you. They’re gonna do anything and everything to win, and it’ll be a real race.”

“You are crazy, but I love it,” You whispered as you left a kiss on his cheek before standing up and moving to the karts. You two put on your helmets and everyone took their places in their karts. Jack looked back at you and Kimi and signaled that he was going to catch you. Right as you sat down, you looked up at Kimi, who was still adjusting his helmet. “We’re not going easy on them though, right?”

“No never,” Kimi answered quickly as he took his seat in the driver’s seat. He fiddled with the seat and wheel for a second before the look in his eyes told you exactly what he was thinking. “This is technically a championship, and I’ve never lost. Buckle up because you’re not breaking my streak.”

You tightened your belts and braced yourself. This was the best (and only) way to get back onto the track.

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[skateordiebitch]

I LIKE HER || D.F. x reader

‘i’d give the world to her

as long as my heart's still beating

as long as she's next to me

because i like her’

summary: dominic goes to your house for thanksgiving. to say he's nervous... is an understatement.

inspired by '20191009 i like her' by mac demarco! this was so cute to write, even though my parents are definitely not like this and i have never invited a significant other over... like ever LMFAO. i also wrote after i smoked and made it an reader x elliot story. (???) so i had to re-edit all of it this morning. last time i'm ever doing that😭

enjoy, and as always, requests are open <3

The drive to your parents’ house was quiet, but not in the usual, comfortable way. 

The silence hung in the air, thick with tension and anticipation, rather than the easygoing, relaxed kind you’d grown used to in the car with Dominic. 

His fingers gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were bone white, his jaw clenched in concentration, and every now and then, he glanced at you with a nervous, half-smiling look that almost made your heart ache. 

It was endearing in a way, but also a little disconcerting. 

This was the same guy who could walk on stage in front of hundreds of people without flinching, who seemed to breeze through life with his trademark devil-may-care attitude. 

Yet today, in the face of Thanksgiving dinner with your parents, Dominic was unmistakably, undeniably terrified. 

You watched him for a moment, your mind spinning with a thousand thoughts. You’d known Dominic long enough to know how much he hated being vulnerable, how much he hated showing weakness. 

But here he was, acting as though he were about to face a firing squad instead of a family dinner. It was hard to reconcile with the confident, magnetic man you knew. 

“Babe, you’re acting like you’re about to go into court or something,” you teased gently, reaching over to rub his shoulder in a reassuring gesture.

He let out a breathy laugh, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

His gaze remained fixed on the road, his expression still tense. “I might as well be. Your dad hates me, doesn’t he? I mean, he’s gonna hate me for sure. I’ve heard all about him.”

You rolled your eyes, fighting back a smile. “My dad doesn’t even know you yet. Besides, you’re gonna charm him just like you charm everyone else. Remember when you met my friends? You had them in love with you in, like, ten minutes.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to marry your friends,” he muttered under his breath, still staring at the road with a furrowed brow.

Your heart skipped a beat at his admission. 

It wasn’t the first time he’d hinted at something more serious between you two, but this was the first time he’d put it so plainly. 

His face flushed as soon as the words left his mouth, and he cleared his throat awkwardly, trying to cover up his slip. “I mean… I’m just saying, meeting your parents is a big deal. Like, huge. And what if I mess it up?”

His voice trailed off, and you could hear the uncertainty in it, the raw vulnerability that was so unlike the confident, carefree persona he usually put on. 

You leaned in, your hand resting gently on his arm. 

“Dominic,” you murmured softly, your voice full of affection, “You’re not going to mess it up. Just be yourself. That’s the guy I fell in love with, and I promise, it’s the guy they’ll love, too.”

He glanced at you, his eyes softening just slightly, the weight of his worry easing a little. He gave you a small, almost shy smile. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It is easy,” you reassured him, squeezing his hand gently. “Trust me.”

—

When you finally pulled up to your parents' house, the scene that greeted you was exactly what you’d expected: a whirlwind of activity. 

The smell of roasted turkey and pumpkin pie wafted out the door as your family bustled around, setting the table, carrying in food. 

Your mom was the first to spot you, her face lighting up in a smile as she hurried over to pull you into a tight hug. 

“Y/N! I’m so glad you’re here,” she exclaimed, pulling back just enough to look at you. Then her eyes shifted to Dominic, her gaze appraising but friendly. “And you must be Dominic! Oh, we’ve heard so much about you.”

Before he could react, she pulled him into a hug as well, surprising him. He blinked in surprise, eyes wide for a second, but recovered quickly, offering her a warm smile. “Thank you for having me… It’s an honor to be here.”

Your mom laughed, waving him off as though he were a nervous child. “Oh, please, don’t be nervous. Come on in and make yourself at home.”

As you walked inside, your dad was standing near the kitchen, his arms crossed in a way that made him look more intimidating than he actually was. 

His thick eyebrows were arched in that signature skeptical way you knew all too well. Dominic swallowed hard, his anxiety creeping back up as you nudged him gently forward.

“Dad, this is Dominic,” you said, your voice casual, but your heart was hammering in your chest, too.

Dominic extended his hand, his palm a little damp, and your dad took it with a firm grip. “Dominic, huh? So, what’s this I hear about you being a musician?”

“Yes, sir,” Dominic replied, his voice a little tight but polite. “It’s something I’m really passionate about.”

Your dad gave him a measured look, nodding slowly. “The music industry can be tough. I hope you know how to fix a car, too. It’s good to have a backup plan.”

You stifled a laugh, nudging Dominic’s shoulder with playful affection. “He’s got more talent than you’d think, Dad.”

Dominic cleared his throat, trying to shake off the nerves that still clung to him. He rubbed the back of his neck and gave your dad a tentative smile.

“Yeah, it’s... not the easiest career, but I love what I do. And I’m lucky to have people who support me.”

Your dad hummed, his expression still unreadable. He motioned toward the dining table. “Well, dinner’s almost ready. Why don’t you two take a seat?”

Dominic followed you to the table, but he felt your dad’s eyes lingering on him, sizing him up. He leaned close to you as you sat down, whispering, “Is he always this intense?”

You smirked, whispering back, “Only when he thinks I like someone.”

Dominic laughed nervously, glancing at you for reassurance, and you shot him a quick wink. The tension in the air seemed to lessen just a little.

---

As the evening went on, Dominic started to find his footing. 

He was surprisingly good at navigating the conversation, drawing people in with his self-deprecating humor and lighthearted stories. 

He told everyone about his disastrous attempts at joining his school’s basketball team—complete with exaggerated, comedic flair—and regaled your family with embarrassing anecdotes from his childhood. 

The more he shared, the more relaxed everyone became, and your mom, who was already refilling his drink and piling mashed potatoes onto his plate, seemed to be warming to him more with every passing minute. 

“So, Dominic,” your dad said, setting his fork down and fixing him with a serious look. “What exactly are your intentions with my daughter?”

You groaned softly, shooting your dad an exasperated look. “Dad, don't—”

But Dominic cut you off, his voice steady despite the tremor of nerves beneath it. “I like her,” he said, his eyes meeting your dad’s. “A lot. Like, I really, really like her.”

The room went silent, the only sound the faint scrape of your mom’s fork against her plate as she froze mid-bite.

You blinked, stunned, your heart doing a flip at the raw honesty in Dominic’s words.

Your dad raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. “Is that so?”

“Yes, sir,” Dominic continued, his voice gaining strength. “I know this might not be the usual way things go, but your daughter... she’s incredible. She’s smart, funny, talented, and honestly, she inspires me. I don’t take that lightly.”

Your dad stared at him for a moment that felt like an eternity before finally nodding. “Well, Dominic” he said gruffly, “I can respect a man who knows what he wants and isn’t afraid to say it.”

Your mom beamed, breaking the tension. “I think that’s sweet. Don’t you, honey?”

Your dad grunted, which, in his world, was as close to a blessing as Dominic was going to get.

And at one point, while you were helping your mom in the kitchen, you couldn’t help but sneak a glance at the dining room. Dominic was seated next to your dad, who was animatedly showing him how to carve the turkey. 

Dominic, who you knew had probably never held a carving knife in his life, was listening intently, his expression one of exaggerated concentration. 

“Well, look at that,” your dad said with a proud smile as Elliot made a rather passable slice through the turkey. “You got it!”

Dominic looked over at you, beaming as if he had just won a prize. 

He came back to the table and offered you a slice of turkey, his grin practically glowing with pride. 

“Guess I have a new backup career,” he said, his voice low, and you couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculously pleased he looked.

“You’re doing amazing, babe,” you whispered, squeezing his hand under the table. “And by the way, you’re definitely passing the test.”

He squeezed your hand back, the relief in his smile obvious. “Thank God. Your dad was terrifying for a minute there.”

“He’s just protective,” you said, your voice soft as you glanced at your dad from across the room. “But he likes you, trust me.”

As the evening wore on, the laughter and conversation grew more relaxed. Everyone was at ease, sharing funny stories, teasing each other, and enjoying the food. 

Your dad had even stopped making “backup plan” comments, and you could tell that Dominic was starting to truly feel like he belonged. 

—

When dinner was over, you and Dominic decided to step outside for a quick walk to get some fresh air. The cold night air was crisp and refreshing, the stars shining brightly above, and you both walked hand in hand down the quiet street. 

“See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?” you teased, nudging his shoulder.

He let out a long breath, pulling you close to his side. “Honestly? I was more nervous than I’ve ever been for a show.”

“Well, you pulled it off,” you said, smiling up at him. “And now my parents love you.”

Dominic let out a long breath. “Not gonna lie, I think your dad just aged me by ten years.”

You laughed, slipping your hand into his. “No, you did great. And for the record, I like you too.”

Dominic dramatically froze, his eyes wide as he looked down at you. “Wait. No way. You do?!”

You smiled, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “Yes, idiot. I do. A lot.”

Dominic grinned down at you, his forehead pressing against yours. “I didn’t want to just impress them, you know. I wanted them to… see how much I care about you. How serious I am about you.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you just stared at him, breath caught in your throat. “Dom…”

He reached up, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his eyes soft and steady. “I don’t want to be with anyone else. And I wanted them to know that.”

You stood there, frozen for a moment, the weight of his words settling over you like a gentle but undeniable truth. 

The crisp night air seemed to fade into the background as you searched his eyes for any sign that he didn’t mean it. 

But there was nothing but sincerity, nothing but warmth.

Your chest tightened, and you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corners of your mouth, even as a lump formed in your throat. “Dominic,” you breathed again, your voice barely above a whisper.

He lowered his hand from your face, but not before his thumb traced the curve of your cheek, his touch lingering like he couldn’t quite bring himself to pull away. 

The tension that had gripped him earlier in the evening—his fear of not measuring up, of not being good enough for your family—seemed to have dissolved completely. 

Now, standing under the vast, quiet sky, he looked like a man who knew exactly what he wanted. And what he wanted was you.

“I mean it,” he continued softly, his voice steady. “I’m in this. With you. All the way.”

You felt your heart swell, that familiar warmth spreading through your chest, pulling you closer to him. 

The way he said it—so earnestly, with so much confidence—left no room for doubt.

You had always known Dominic was passionate about his music, about his career, but hearing him talk about his feelings for you, about how serious he was about the two of you, made everything feel… different. Bigger. Realer.

“I’m glad,” you said, finally finding your voice, your hands slipping around his waist as you leaned into him. “Because I don’t want anyone else either.”

He smiled then, a soft, private smile just for you, and it felt like everything you needed to say was already understood between you. 

There was no need for more words. 

Instead, he cupped your face gently, pulling you in, his lips brushing against yours in a slow, deliberate kiss—one that spoke volumes more than words ever could.

After a long moment of silence, he finally broke it with a grin. “So, do I still have to do the dishes to make a good impression?”

You laughed, pulling back to meet his eyes. “Absolutely. That’s part of the initiation.”

Dominic groaned dramatically, throwing his head back in mock despair. “The things I do for love...” 

You laughed again, the sound light and carefree, the weight of the evening finally lifting. 

He pulled you close, his arms wrapping around you as he lifted you off your feet in one smooth motion, spinning you around as you squealed in surprise. You both tumbled into a fit of laughter, your heart soaring in his arms.

When he finally set you down, he kept you close, his hands still resting on your waist as you both stood there in the quiet street, the laughter tapering off into contented silence. 

For a moment, everything felt so right, so easy, and the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of you, standing under the stars. 

“You know,” Dominic said quietly, his voice low and serious again, “I think I could get used to this.” 

His thumb traced small circles on the back of your hand, the same thumb that had strummed a guitar for hours in front of audiences but now held your hand like it was the most important thing in the world.

You leaned into him, your head resting against his chest. “What, the being nervous part? Or the Thanksgiving dinners?”

He chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Well, I didn’t think I’d ever say this, but… Thanksgiving dinners are kind of great. Even with all the anxiety.”

You smiled up at him, feeling a surge of affection that was almost overwhelming. “I’m glad you think so,” you murmured, “because there are going to be a lot more of them. I’m kind of attached to this family, you know.”

His eyes softened, the playful teasing replaced with something deeper, more earnest. “Yeah, well… I plan on being around for all of them. I’m not going anywhere.”

Your breath caught again, and this time you didn’t try to hide the way your heart swelled in your chest. He wasn’t the type to say something like that lightly, and you knew he meant it. 

There was a certain finality to his words, a quiet but unmistakable promise.

Before you could respond, Dominic nudged you gently, a mischievous glint returning to his eyes. “But seriously… dishes?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to hold back a smile. “Yes, seriously. You’ve got to pay your dues somehow.”

Dominic groaned again, but his grin was back, and it was impossible to miss how relieved he seemed. 

The tension that had been building in him all day, the worry about impressing your parents and meeting their expectations, seemed to have melted away completely. 

It was as if the approval he’d so desperately sought had been given, not through grand gestures or perfect words, but through simple moments of connection, laughter, and genuine sincerity.

“Alright, alright,” he said, pulling you closer again and pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. “Dishes it is. But you know, I’m going to need something in return.”

You arched an eyebrow, sensing a tease in his voice. “Oh? And what might that be?”

He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “How about a lifetime supply of Thanksgiving dinners?”

Your heart skipped, and you could feel the heat in your cheeks as you laughed softly. “Sure,” you whispered back, “Maybe, you’ll even get something else, too.”

Elliot’s eyes darkened with playful curiosity. “Oh yeah? And what would that be?”

You leaned in closer, your lips just a breath away from his. “You know what I mean,” you said, letting your words linger in the air, a teasing edge to them.

His breath hitched, his grin widening. “At your parent’s house?!” 

“Okay, maybe not here… But, when there’s a will there’s a way— I have a car, you know.”

“Well, then I like the sound of that,” he muttered, and you could feel the heat between you shift, the playful tension suddenly charged with something more electric.

“I’m gonna do those dishes so damn fast,” he said, his hand sliding down your back as he pulled you closer again. 

You leaned into him, lips brushing against his in a kiss that was a little slower, a little more promising this time. “Good,” you whispered against his mouth, “because I always keep my word.”

—

The quiet of the night stretched on around you, but you didn’t mind. It was peaceful, comfortable, and for the first time all evening, it felt like everything had come full circle. The anxiety, the awkwardness, the moments of uncertainty—gone, replaced by something so much more real. 

Something you both could stand on.

Dominic squeezed your hand one more time, and you both stood there for a few moments longer, just holding each other, as if savoring the last remnants of the day.

Finally, with a small but contented sigh, he let go of you reluctantly. “Alright, we should probably head back in before your dad starts hunting me down for that backup career.”

You laughed and took his hand, tugging him back toward the house. “I think we’ve earned our place here, don’t you?”

He smiled, his arm slipping around your waist as you walked back toward the warmth of the house and the sounds of family inside. “Yeah. I think we have.” 

And as the door closed behind you, you realized you couldn’t have asked for a better Thanksgiving, a better future— one where Dominic, despite all his nerves and uncertainties, could be part of the family.

And that was more than enough.

[silentscrying]

🏀 buzzer beater | chapter SEVEN.

nba!gojo x manager!reader

summary: you thought you'd gotten rid of arrogant NBA star satoru gojo when he left the curses after your first year in basketball management. but when your contract is up three years later, you find yourself working with him once again as the manager for the sorcerers. as you navigate playoff season alongside long-time friend ieiri shoko and the sorcerers' insufferable star player, you start to realize his sudden departure from the curses may not have been what it seemed, and maybe gojo isn't exactly the person (or player) you thought he was, either.

warnings: language, so many character cameos, denial is a river in egypt, chaos. || sfw. 2.4k words.

"I CAN'T BELIEVE Utahime's not in this welcome party," Gojo grumbles as you descend the steps off the jet. You just snort, and then Yuji skips the last three steps and starts running across the tarmac. Nitta, despite your insistence that she didn't need to, has met you at the airport along with two of the Samurai players.

“Christ,” you say as Yuji drops his bag on the ground, leaving it unattended.

“Choso!” he shouts, practically leaping onto the player on Nitta’s right. The taller man has a mess of brown hair wrangled into space buns, and he ruffles Yuji’s hair when he sets him down.

“Good to see you before we beat your ass.”

The man beside Choso opens his arms expectantly. “No love for your brother?”

“Todo.” Choso crosses his arms. “I’m actually his brother.”

“Half,” Todo retorts.

“Half is more than you.”

“We’re bonded by the college oath,” Todo says solemnly, pulling Yuji into a hug.

“Kari!” you yell, and she grins and meets you halfway. “Oh my god. It’s been too long.”

Akari Nitta, your small forward in college and also your senior year roommate. “I missed you,” she says as she pulls you into a hug. “How’re the Sorcerers? You like it there, they treat you well?”

“Good, yeah. I’m happy,” you say, honestly. “You?”

Akari’s been with the Samurai for four consecutive seasons now, and you already know she has no intention of leaving. She loves it there, loves the team, and you can’t deny how excited you are for this round of the competition.

It’s the best kind of game, you think, when the teams are evenly matched and actually respect one another. But you’re still worried—the issue now isn’t that they’ll play dirty, like the Phantoms. It’s that they’re good. Really good.

“Nitta,” Kento greets, holding out a hand. “Good to see you.” He glances over her shoulder, at where Yuji is talking animatedly with Choso and Todo.

“You too, Nanami.” Nitta follows his gaze and chuckles. “Haibara’s wrangling the rest of them at practice. I said family only, and then Todo basically forced himself into the car. At some point it’s just easier not to fight him.” Kento chuckles and nods at Nitta before falling back in with the rest of the team.

Haibara played for the Sorcerers before getting traded a couple of years back. You don’t know him personally, but you know your team is very fond of him. Ieiri catches up with you and strikes up a conversation with Nitta, and the three of you follow the team through a wide hangar and to the line of vehicles waiting outside.

“Still think you should’ve stayed with me,” Akari tells you as you board the bus that’s taking you and the team to the hotel.

You grin. “It’d be preferable. But I have to babysit.” She laughs and squeezes you on the shoulder before pulling Choso and Todo away from Yuji, herding them back into the car to get back to their own team.

You watch the old city go by through the bus window, thankful you don’t have to try to navigate driving the streets of Savannah yourself during rush hour. The scattered horse-drawn carriages and swarms of warm-weather tourists punctuate every street corner, and though it’s nowhere near the same extent as the chaos of New York, you don’t envy the ones who have to focus on the roads instead of the river, running silvery-blue in the evening light.

Gojo briefly tries to sing again in the back of the bus, and he only gets as far as “concrete jung—” before somebody silences him with a thud that you assume is a backpack, if his offended squawk is anything to go by.

"What part of this place looks like concrete to you?" Megumi asks dryly.

Even the day before the game, you see Samurai jerseys and hats dotting the sidewalks, a few flags hung in the doorways of shops.

First seed, you think, staring out the window at the slowly darkening streets. You hope the team can pull through.

—

Iori Utahime is looking at Gojo like she’s going to castrate him on the spot.

“Utahiiiime!” he sings. “It’s been so long!”

“Not long enough,” she says, crossing her arms and turning up her chin. Long, purple-streaked hair falls past her shoulders, the back tied up in a bow you’ve never seen her without. “Any chance you’re less of a menace than you used to be?”

“No,” says a voice from behind you, and you’ve never seen a person’s entire countenance shift so quickly as Utahime catches sight of Ieiri and immediately breaks into a grin. She sprints toward her, launching into her arms.

“Shoko!” she shrieks, and Ieiri laughs and wraps her arms around her. “I missed you!”

“Utahime,” she says warmly. “How’ve you been?”

They launch into conversation—or, Utahime launches into conversation while Ieiri smiles pleasantly and nods along—and Gojo is forced to abandon his quest to annoy Utahime in favor of actually doing his job and playing basketball.

“She just doesn’t get me like you do,” he whispers on his way past.

“I don’t get you,” you retort, but he’s already gone.

The atmosphere in the Samurai stadium is entirely different than the rest of the games you’ve been to—this is a rivalry, sure, but a friendly one. Players greet each other across the court, the boys ecstatic to be reunited with Haibara, and the fans seem to be aware of the connections across the two teams. There’s significantly less hostility than you’ve gotten used to as the Sorcerers are introduced.

You catch a glimpse of blue hair in the front row of the home side and realize Kasumi Miwa is here. She’s already attracting quite a bit of attention, a massively successful WNBA player herself. You played with her in college, too, but you know she’s here for their point guard, Kokichi Muta.

Gojo stands at center court, ready to take the tip-off against Noritoshi, the other Kamo on the Samurai. You don’t remember quite how he’s related to Choso, but it’s amusing just how intertwined all the players on the court are right now.

For a second you think Kamo’s going to win the tip-off, but Gojo’s arm shoots up out of nowhere and then he’s running with the ball. He darts around Kamo and passes to Yuji, and the Sorcerers are 2-0 within the first thirty seconds of the game.

And then Haibara gets one in, and they’re tied. And then Gojo nails a three-pointer. And then Choso does, too.

Your neck is starting to hurt from how much you’re snapping it back and forth, both ends of the court in constant play as the advantage shifts every other minute. Megumi isn’t starting today, and you can feel his anxiety even from your place near the hall doors.

This game is insane.

Toward the end of the first quarter, Megumi subs in for Toge, and the second he hits the court he plays as if he never left. Kento lobs the ball his way and Megumi scores another three, and then Ino slips by Todo and leaps, fingers almost touching the hoop as the ball slams in.

It’s one of the tightest games you’ve seen in a long time. They’re always within five points of one another, back and forth, back and forth. The Sorcerers are leading at halftime by two, but it’s not a lead anyone is confident in.

While the team is back in the locker room, you slip over to the home side to talk to Kasumi. She grins and tugs you into a hug. “Alley-oop!”

You laugh, the stupid nickname so familiar falling from her lips. “Kasumi!” You pull back and smile. “How’re the Shadows? Do you love it? You fucking killed it this last season.”

She flushes a little, never having been big on accepting compliments. “Ah, I’ve got a great team.”

You arch a brow. “And they’re lucky to have you.” Taking mercy on her, you switch the subject. “So things with Kokichi are going well.”

She gets that dreamy look in her eyes, and you decide Kasumi and Muta are maybe the only couple you’ll accept being this fucking sappy all the time. They’ve been together since your senior year of college, and you’re pretty sure the basketball gods made them for each other.

“I think he’s gonna propose soon,” Kasumi whispers, and you have to clamp a hand over your mouth to stifle a squeal.

“Kasumi,” you gasp.

She giggles. “Don’t say anything. He just can’t keep secrets from me. He’s not slick.”

You mime zipping your mouth and tossing the key, and she pretends to unzip it as she asks, “What about you? How are things in the Southeast?”

“Hot,” you say. “Humid. Busy. But good.”

“And Gojo?”

You blink. “Gojo?”

“Uh, y’know, star player, six three, easy on the eyes?” She raises her eyebrows like she knows something, and the implications hit you all at once.

“Oh my god, Kasumi.”

She blinks innocently. “Reunited after three long, long years. No romanticism in that?”

“We work together,” you hiss, which feels like a gross understatement. “And he’s…”

She raises a brow, waiting. You can feel the heat creeping to your cheeks. It’s such a ridiculous notion that you don’t even have a proper response.

“I honestly think he just became tolerable,” you say. “God, I wouldn’t date—”

“Oh, you say that now,” she says, a smug curve to her lips.

“What does that—”

“Oh, look at the time.” You follow Kasumi’s gaze to where the players have started filing back into the gym. “Back to your coworker, you.”

“Kasumi Miwa—”

“I love you too!” she beams. “Good to see you. Really.”

Rolling your eyes, you wave your left hand at her, pointing discreetly at your ring finger as you retreat across the gym. You watch as the bright red returns to her cheeks and return her smug grin from earlier.

God. Easy on the eyes.

It’s not like Gojo’s not attractive. Girls fawn over him and you can understand why, objectively. Tall, strong, all lean muscle, those stupidly bright blue eyes and whiter-than-white hair. But he’s one of those guys who’s just hot until he opens his mouth.

Even if he hasn’t been quite as annoying lately, the natural progression of a conversation about Kasumi’s soon-to-be-fiancé should not be to start talking about Satoru Gojo.

On the sidelines, he winks at you, and your roll your eyes but have to turn away before he sees the heat rising to your cheeks. Not helping right after Kasumi decided to put those thoughts in your head.

Fucking hell. What’s wrong with you?

You shake off the encounter as the game starts back up. You might’ve had the lead before the half, but the Samurai come back strong. Very strong. Todo is impossible to get around, he’s everywhere at once, and Muta is making shots from insane distances while Choso just keeps dunking. The disadvantage to having played with Haibara is that he knows the way the team plays, and he seems to have relayed whatever tips he can to his teammates.

But it goes both ways. Kento knows every shot Haibara will take before it happens, and Yuji and Todo are so tuned into each other’s movements that they can’t get the jump on the other.

It’s insane and it’s stressful but it’s damn good basketball. With damn good people, too. Yuta gets knocked down and Todo helps him back up. Choso keeps making faces at Yuji across the court. When Choso dunks right over Ino, you even hear Gojo let out a low whistle of appreciation for the shot.

When the buzzer signals the game’s end, the Sorcerers have lost by three. Muta scored the winning shot, and after the game is called he runs right off the court to sweep Kasumi up in a hug. Across the court, you see Gojo terrorizing Utahime again, Kento bumping fists with Haibara, Choso and Todo crowding Yuji as Megumi watches in amusement.

Nobara sighs as she looks up at the scoreboard. 81-78.

God, it was close. Really, really close.

It’s one game, you tell yourself. They can swing it. They’ve got time.

The mood after the game is a weird mixture of excited and tense—the guys knew they were walking into a match with a better ranked team, but now they’re feeling it. It’s the hardest they’ve had to play in a while, and Yaga and Kusakabe are talking strategy before they even hit the locker room.

You get back to your hotel room late, another night of emails and scheduling and a too-bright screen, and when you get back, Ieiri is smirking at you.

“What?”

She nods to your bed. “Had a visitor a while ago.”

You follow her gaze to a folded pile of blue and green fabric on the end of your bed, a note on top of it. “Oh my god.”

You know what that is. You’d know it from a mile away, because you wrote the renewal contract for it, because it’s been scattered throughout the stands at home games, because you’ve approved ads and worked on shoot screenings with Nobara.

The shirt is soft in your hands, and you pick up the note, scrawled on a piece of paper torn from the hotel notepad.

figured our star manager deserved free star merch, right? you’re welcome!!!!!!

His handwriting is messy and slanted, the line of exclamation points nearing horizontal toward the right edge of the page. It’s so incredibly boyish you have to stifle a laugh, and in place of a signature Gojo has doodled his own face in the corner: a little circle with spiked up hair and a black headband, tugged over his eyes like a blindfold. Probably because he didn’t want to deal with drawing eyes, you think.

The shirt’s in your size, a long-sleeve that starts out blue and washes into a light green in a vertical gradient. LIMITLESS is printed across it in a thin sans serif, a Nike swoosh twisted into an infinity sign above the T.

“Idiot,” you mutter. Star merch. Arrogant idiot who sneaks into hotel rooms to leave his own merch and assumes you want it. Actually, he probably knows you don’t. That’s why he didn’t give it to you in person. That makes it worse. He’s just taunting you in his typical Gojo way.

You toss the shirt into your bag and slide the note into your laptop case, not seeing a recycling bin. Ieiri chuckles, and you look up at sharply. “What?”

She holds her hands up, palms out in surrender. “I didn’t say anything.”

When you try to fall asleep, staring at the shadowed popcorn ceiling, you’re reeling. Kasumi’s words pinball around your skull like it’s an echo chamber. The Limitless shirt sits heavy in your bag against the wall. Gojo winks in your mind’s eye. You feel his hand curled over yours, pen in your fist.

You hope you don’t dream.

directory. || prev. || next.

jjk taglist open: just send me a message!

@shutuppeter @mikikkoo @reactwithjan @theclassbookworm @lilactaro

[needforspeed161]

Some IceMav head cannons I thought up as I drank my coffee this morning 💙

I absolutely LOVE icemav fics where there’s some soft domestic fluff in the mornings, like whether they’re 25 or 50, they’ll wake eachother up with soft kisses and snuggles.

Mav bringing Ice his coffee just the way he likes it, as they enjoy the morning before they have to get ready for work or (if they’re retired) maybe read the paper together and decide what to do that day. Ice wants to invite the daggers over for a home cooked brunch because even though he’s the COMPACFLT and acts all tough, he wants the younger pilots (their adopted kids) to have a nice home cooked meal every so often. Ice LOVES to cook for them. Plus he knows from years of experience that mess hall food isn’t always the best.

They love having them all over for game nights too, be it monopoly, life, scrabble, whatever game Maverick decides to pull out from his extensive collection (carrier life isn’t that exciting at times so I imagine he collected alot of board games over the years)

His favorite being an old beat up box of operation he and Goose used to play on the ship for HOURS, the gentle sway of the carrier made it all the more challenging and fun.

Ice even remembers getting wrapped up into a couple games with slider as well, he’s sure he lost hundreds of dollars to Maverick and goose with that damn game over the years 😂

They also like to invite the flyboys over for poker nights, barbecues, movies. Whatever they feel like doing that night.

Hollywood and Wolfman and Slider more than happy to come spend the evening with two of their oldest friends. A couple times they were even able to get Merlin, and Sundown over as well.

They held Cougars first grandkids birthday in their backyard. Complete with bouncy house and everything. Even though ice insisted “Maverick darling he’s turning one….i don’t think he’ll need a bounce house…” which was met with “cmon Tom please!”

Maverick ended up playing in it more than the kids did. And when the Daggers began to flow in you know that thing was filled with pilots. Chaos ensued and let’s just say Ice was worried he wouldn’t get the deposit back. But as soon as he seen the happiness on mavericks and the daggers faces his worried just seemed to melt away.

Wolf even managed to drag Hollywood in at one point.

Maverick loves pictures, he has ever since he was a boy and all he had to remember his parents were some photos. Pictures slowly began to fill their walls and countertops over the years. Old ones of his parents, Him and Goose or Goose and Carole holding Bradley when he was a baby.

Younger pictures of him and Ice, graduating Top Gun and several of their carrier missions that followed.

pictures from every single one of the daggers Top Gun graduations. Bob and Natasha’s wedding, Bradley and Jake’s engagement (soon to be wedding)

He and Ices official wedding photos (after almost 30 years once gay marriage was legalized)

Christmas photos of all of them surrounding the tree, they loved having a big family….it made their hearts soar.

[what-even-is-thiss]

hi! i just saw your post about your struggle with addiction, and it really resonated with me i guess, and i hope youre doing better now. ive been struggling a lot with being,,, lets call it ‘reasonable’ about my weed consumption and im feeling so overwhelmed trying to slow down with it and so ashamed that im even struggling with this in the first place, do you have any advice from when you first realized you had an addiction and like how you went about dealing with it?

im just really scared to ask my friends and family (outside of tumblr) for help because i worry that itll change how they think of me, or that theyll start treating me differently or something, especially because my parents are the ones who keep enabling this.

if youre not up to giving advice about this sort of thing i completely understand, and obviously our experiences and vices are very different, anyway sorry this is so rambly, and i hope you have a lovely week :)

An addiction counselor or a therapist might be better than me but I’ll try.

What has worked for me in the past with some things is removing the thing from my life completely and then later when I’m better seeing if there’s a healthy smaller way I can bring it back into my life.

Sometimes there isn’t. When it comes to opioids for example I can’t have those even once or my addiction immediately reactivates. Like with me it’s so fast. I become dependent on them immediately. Same with self harm. Hurting myself leads to my brain immediately wanting more of it to get rid of my emotions and it’s bad for my health so i just need to not do that.

When it comes to gambling and mobile games however I’ve been able to find a happy medium with that. I have maybe two mobile games I play that I don’t spend money on and I play more one time purchase games now without micro transactions. With gambling I put a hard limit on myself at 20 bucks a month and for the most part I’ve been able to stick to that.

Also I know that if I drink alcohol more than twice a week I’ll become addicted to it because I can feel it happening. So I just don’t drink more than once or twice a week.

You don’t have to go cold turkey. That doesn’t work for everyone. You might carefully measure out a ration for yourself for the month or week. You might not even have to give it up entirely. Or maybe you might.

I’ve found that talking it out with people in your life you trust can be helpful. The hardest additions to beat for me have been the ones I’ve never told anyone about. And part of the reason I’ve never become alcoholic is because I’ve told my friends and family about my problem and if I have more than three drinks at a party they know to tell me to cut it out.

I’ve found in general that people are more understanding than you think they’ll be. And if they aren’t then find someone who is. Even if they have to be a therapist or something.

I think the worst thing you can do when trying to beat an addiction or if you know you have an addictive personality is to isolate yourself. If you’re alone then it’s just you and your thoughts and your thoughts are what got you into this in the first place.

There’s nothing to be ashamed of if you find quitting hard. Addiction is hard. It messes with the pathways in your brain. It’s okay if it takes a while. Just keep trying.

[polyklok]

How Dethklok shows their love to you

Nathan Explosion

We all know about Nathan’s tendency to hyper focus on his current interest; mans got strong feeling and he wants to let everyone know just how happy you make him. So he shows you off, every chance he gets. Especially to the paparazzi. Once he’s settled into the relationship, he’s getting all cuddly and smiley in front of the cameras, quite rare for the media to see. He calls his parents nearly every week just to brag about you, it’s so sweet.

Motherfucking Nathan Explosion. One of the biggest names in the world, certainly the biggest in music and entertainment. A man who handcrafted a revolution of lyrics and rhythm. A man the world worships and the population craves. And yet, when he’s real smitten for someone, it’s awfully easy to make him shy. Just small, flirty things will get his face beet red and stuttering over his words in an instant, so incredibly enamored with everything you do. Whisper some sweet-nothings to him and he’ll become putty in your hands.

Nathan is very…specific when it comes to most aspects in life. He’s picky and stubborn and usually has his mind set for any decisions. But, you, as his S/O, own his utmost trust. So, before the final choice is made, he makes sure to get your opinion on it. Whether it’s small things or large decisions, he wants to hear what you think and will definitely take it into consideration. You have the ability to loosen him up on some settlements, much to Charles’ thanks.

Okay, the end of season 4 was an exaggeration, but Nathan does have a difficult time admitting when he’s wrong. Apologizing just really pokes at his large yet fragile ego. But, when he finally gets rid of some pride and realizes he fucked up with you, he’ll make the effort to apologize. Even if it’s not directly, you’ll get little gifts and gestures that lets you know that he really is sorry.

Pickles The Drummer

This one’s kinda silly, but here me out; Growing up, all of Pickle’s possessions were either hand-me-downs, stolen by Seth, or taken away as punishment from his parents. He didn’t get many stuff that was his. So, as an adult who could have all the material possessions he wants, he’s become a bit greedy. Until pretty lil you came up and stole his heart from him. At that point, he’s practically forcing himself to share everything with you. Food, clothes, anything. Something about seeing you with his stuff makes him feel really good inside.

Worries about you. Hoo-boy, as much as he hates to admit it, he’s got total mom brain when it comes to anxiety. Anytime you’re five minutes late or slightly more quiet than usual, he’s darting around, thinking that he somehow messed up and you hate him and now he’s gotta fix it. Please reassure him, he’s gonna give himself an asthma attack.

Pickles, uh, doesn’t have the best memory. Probably from the constant abuse of drugs and alcohol. I don’t think the dude knows anything that happened to him from age 20 to 25. But, he wants to make the effort. So, he’ll remember the little things about you, basic likes and dislikes, something you said, etc. When he acts upon it, like buying some of your favorite food, and you get all happy about it, he’s so proud of himself. He loves making you happy.

“Punch first, ask later. Or don’t ask at all.”That’s how he lives a whole lot of his life, especially in bars or parties. MF got some agitation issues. But when you get involved? Someone looks at you even slightly wrong? They’re getting their asses beat, he’ll defend the shit out of you.

In addition to that^…He’s definitely used to getting a ton of shit from his family and he just takes it. Because they don’t really like Pickles, there’s a good chance Seth and his parents will hate you and they’ll let you know it. This is when he cracks down. He yells at them for several minutes about what a wonderful person you are, what shitty people they are, and that they can talk about him all they want but not you. Definitely scares them straight.

Toki Wartooth

Oh, man does Toki love to spoil you! The way your face lights up when he manages to get you another perfect (and expensive) gift makes his heart flutter. He’s very good at it to; buying you things you didn’t even know you wanted but always cherish. He especially likes to get you custom-made stuff, something very cheesy.

He has a bit of a hyperactive mind, without something specific to focus on, he’ll constantly be bouncing around. But, despite this, he absolutely loves to listen to you in a way he can’t with other people. While he’s putting together a model or coloring or maybe practicing guitar (once in a blue moon), he likes to have you there, just ranting while he nods along. Even if he doesn’t get all the details, the sound of your voice is enough for him.

When you’re around him, he’s pretty much always going to be touching you. Sometimes it’s small things, like holding hands, knees together under a table, occasional cheek kisses. Other times, he’s practically hanging onto you like a sloth. Additionally, he absolutely loves to scoop you up at random moments and just hold you for a while. He’s strong, he can handle it.

It’s very clear that Toki is a bit of a traditionalist when it comes to love. Even if it’s unrealistic, he will often imagine a future with you, the classic getting married, having children, growing old. A nice, suburban, and perfect lifestyle. He knows that he can’t ever get rid of his rock n roll persona, but there’s a piece of him that’s completely dedicated to simply loving you for the rest of his days.

Skwisgaar Skwigelf

First of all; it’s going to take a while to establish yourself as more than just some sex to Skwisgaar. He needs to know you’re not someone trying to brag that they fucked a rockstar. Once he realizes that’s you mean something to him (and vice versa), he relaxes! He gets vulnerable, gets emotional and cuddly and more romantic than you’d expect! He no longer has to keep up the persona, you see the side of him that no one else really does.

Along with this, he’s willing to be more silly than with you! He’s got an even bigger ego than Nathan and hates to look like a fool in front of all his fans. But when he’s around you, he allows himself to make some jokes, mess up a few times and laugh about it. Seeing you laugh makes the small amount of humiliation worth it to him.

Skwisgaar has practically heard it all when it comes to compliments; he’s an international sex symbol and a music mastermind, after all. There’s nothing he hasn’t been praised for. So, he thinks it’s only natural that he compliments the hell out of you just like others do to him. From wake to sleep, he’s giving you all sorts of flattery on how you look and congratulates you on every accomplishment, no matter how small. He likes to feel proud of his darling and makes sure you know it.

Despite him having a long line of past lovers behind him, Skwisgaar gets jealous very easily. Call it a toxic trait, but he’ll flirt with anyone he sees while glaring at anyone who sees you. And his glares are proven to be lethal. Just be careful, cause he can have anyone he deems ‘too touchy’ with you assassinated with the flick of a wrist.

William Murderface

William thinks he’s soo lucky to have you in the first place, he practically worships the ground you walk on. His mind is pretty much on you every moment of the day; every dream he has at night is about you. He’s obsessed with the way you look, the way you act, he’s always staring at you with a dumb, happy smile on his face. Anything you need, he’ll make it happen for you.

I personally feel that he’s a lot smarter than he seems; particularly about history, historical weaponry, and cars. So, when he gets the chance, you get your ass he’s gonna rant to you about all the random stuff that’s up in his brain. He’s an extreme pessimist by nature, but when he’s speaking about the things he truly cares about, he’s seems so enthusiastic and energized, even more so when you actively listen and ask questions.

While Murderface certainly talks a lot, he doesn’t really…express, you know? Most of his conversations are surface-level and to the point. But when he’s comfortable with you, he likes to have deep conversations about things most people think he’s too stupid to care about. Ethics, philosophy, religion. He’s no expert, but everyone has their own beliefs. He wants to share his and to hear yours. Sometimes, he gets really into it, occasionally crying. These moments are important to him and he loves to be with you during them.

Let’s admit it; William isn’t conventionally handsome in anyway. A good reason for that is because he simply doesn’t care or have the patience for proper hygiene. Still, he wants to really impress you, so he starts taking care of himself more. He gets some better products, puts a little more thought into how he dresses, even eats slightly better. It’s not a big difference, but it’s something and it’s noticeable over time.

Bonus^ If you have a skincare routine, he’s going to be right next to you, mesmerized by all the creams and serums and cleansers. Even better if you apply some to him, he gets so soft.

[scryarchives]

𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 - 𝐣𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬

it's been almost a month since the whole "Victoria Kord Blue Beetle Fiasco", and Jaime has loads to sort out, especially since the new neighbour might not be what she says she is...

masterlist | next !

– pairings: jaime reyes x oc

– warning: fluff, canon divergent, blue beetle movie spoilers

– author's note: after watching the blue beetle movie, I've been so down bad for jaime reyes i had to make a one-shot series for him. disclaimer: i'm not of Hispanic descent and i have don't know casual terms spoken, so do correct me if im wrong!

The sun's heat beat down on the hot sand, heat waves radiating off the ground from the high temperature. A winding tarmac road lay between the plains, and a little vehicle sped down it, emptiness surrounding them.

“Mama, how much longer until we get to… Palmera City?” The woman drawled, picking up a pamphlet in her right hand, and pulling her wireless headphones down with the other.

“We're pretty much there, Drea,” A woman replied, hands on the steering while and eyes trained on the road. “We’re almost there.”

“Why can’t I just fly there myself? You and Amma can take the car. I’m twenty Ma, not five,” Drea huffed, neatening out her ruffled ebony waves. “You taught me how to fly when I was ten, anyways.”

“Kanna, you don’t even know where Palmera City is,” Another woman turned her head in the passenger’s seat to face her daughter in the back. “And you don’t know where the house is.”

“I do know where it is, El Paso Street, Palmera City.”

“Which house then? And you only knew Palmera City from the pamphlet,” The woman driving chuckled. “Besides, don’t you like spending time with your mamas?”

Drea said nothing in return, grumbling and pulling her headphones back over her ears, blasting her music at almost full volume.

“She grew up too fast,” The other passenger sighed, her hand on her forehead. “When did she become twenty? Remind me, please.”

“She turned twenty almost two days ago, aṉpu,” The driver grinned. “Did you forget that she almost set the house on fire when we told her about the move?”

“Please, don’t remind me, Zara,” Anika sighed at her wife’s entertainment. “I’m still drained from all of the mess I had to clean up after.”

“Nika, we’re moving, new people, new sights to see, and new opportunities for a good life for you and me. For our family,” Zara, the driver, smiled softly. One of her hands slipped off the driver’s wheel, encasing itself around Anika’s smaller hand.

“Besides, Drea needs a job, something that can keep her steady until she finds out what she wants to do,” She shrugged. “And Palmera City might have everything she needs.”

“‘Might have’ are the keywords.” Anika’s worried eyes met Zara’s calm ones. “If it doesn’t? Then what? She’ll just, what, fly alone to a new place?”

“Probably. But that’s okay, I was her age when I came here, and I needed something new. Something different. And then I met you, and I felt love for the first time,” She winked, her wife flushing.

“Oh stop it you, focus on driving!”

“Alright, alright. But you get my point, right?”

“Yeah… I do."

“Until that happens, if that ever happens, we’ll be just fine.”

“Hermano,” Milagro huffed, her hands forearm deep in water as she held a plate in her hands, holding it up to her brother, who was staring out the window in curiosity.

“Jaime,” She called out once more, her brother still unresponsive, the girl’s patience snapping. “Earth to Jaime Reyes!”

Jaime jumped slightly, taking the plate, gaze focused back on the window while muttering apologies to his younger sister.

“Sorry, sorry,” He wrapped the plate with the cloth in his hands hurriedly.

“What’s got you so distracted?” Milagro frowned, peering over his shoulder to see a moving truck parked outside their house. More accurately, in front of the empty house across the road from them.

“Oh, new neighbours,” She nodded, taking another soapy plate to rinse off from her mother. 

“I wonder what they’ll be like,” Bianca Reyes hummed, handing Milagro another plate.

“It’s about time someone moved in that house,” Milagro chirped. “That house has been empty for as long as I can remember."

"That's not true," Jaime glanced at his sister. "Mrs. Diaz lived there for a while before her son moved out."

"Oh yeah… But that was still ages ago. So my statement still counts."

Jaime playfully rolled his eyes, a smile faint on his face. Glancing over, Milagro questioned her brother teasingly.

"Why are you staring there so much, anyways? Did you see Jenny?" She wiggled her eyebrows.

"What? No, no. We're just friends," He huffed.

"Sure you are."

"No, look. Khaji-Da scanned their moving stuff—"

"Woah! Boundaries, hermano!"

"Exactly! But she did it somehow and she warned me about them."

"What? Is she saying that they're villains? Like Jenny's crazy aunt?" The girl beside Jaime placed a hand on her hip. "C'mon, they're new neighbours, how bad can they be?"

"Pretty bad," Khaji-Da chimed in Jaime's head, her host glaring.

The rest of the day proceeded to be uneventful. After dishwashing and tidying up after lunch, Jaime hadn't done much other than trying to find work or helping his mother around the house.

Occasionally, Nana would come around for a drink while taking a break from her sewing, and Milagro soon joined Jaime in his room, the two job-hunting together. Uncle Rudy was… well, somewhere working on "an upgrade for the truck Jenny had gifted", according to him.

If he could, Jaime would have described the atmosphere as "chill and somewhat productive".

His mind drifted from the list of temporary jobs he could apply for on the site he sat on to the whole "Blue Beetle Fiasco" over a month ago. To the friend he hoped would be something more, until she, in the nicest way possible, tried to turn him down.

"Jaime, you're thinking about Jennifer again."

Instantly, he shook his head, trying to refocus his attention.

"Nope, nope. I'm completely focused. See? I can qualify for a…" He narrowed his eyes, reading the word his pointer was aimed at. "Chiropractor? What, no—"

"You need to move on, Jaime. The positive is that Jennifer is still your friend. You have more responsibilities."

"Yeah, and I'm doing it with Mili," Jaime then looked around him, wondering why his sister's questioning and prying hadn't begun.

"Milagro had left to get a drink, while you were busy 'looking for jobs'," Khaji-Da chimed in, rubbing in her point before her host could ask.

"Thank you, Khaji," Jaime huffed sarcastically. "How long has she been gone for?"

"Ten minutes."

"That long?"

"You were deep in thought."

"Got it," He grumbled, pushing himself off of his bed to find his job-hunting partner. "Mili!"

He called out his sister's name, hoping to find her peering around a corner in response, but was returned with nothing, not even a single quip.

"Mili?" Jaime frowned at the lack of noise in his home.

"Nana? Uncle Rudy?"

Seeing that no one was responding, Jaime narrowed his eyes, his mind darting to the worst-case scenario.

"Khaji, can you scan or locate where my family is?"

"Your mother—"

"Jaime! There you are!" Bianca cut Jaime off, her son relieved to see that she was alright.

"—is right here."

"Thank you for the… status, Khaji," He whispered before smiling, letting out a sigh. "Mama, where's everyone?"

"They're outside, greeting the new neighbours!" She furrowed her brows, a smile still gracing her lips. "I thought Mili told you? Oh, I'll talk to her about it later, come come! Let's meet the neighbours, yes?"

She grabbed Jaime's upper arm, rushing out to meet up with the rest of the family.

"Jaime, meet Mrs Tlatilpa, and her daughter, Alejandra!" Bianca smiled.

Jaime smiled over at who he assumed was Alejandra, as she did look quite a bit younger than the woman beside her.

Taking in her appearance, he noticed that she almost looked Hispanic, like him, though her skin was slightly darker. Her hair remained wavy and was a dark shade of brown, pretty much black if he hadn't noticed it against the sunlight. If he looked close enough, he noticed that she had a few strands of braids tied together here and there.

She tilted her head as her wireless headphones covered in vibrant stickers were plastered all over, covering the brand's logo, and it seemed like stars — he noticed a few hand-sewn ones on her baggy jeans — seemed to be her favourite pattern.

Triangle earrings glinted in the light as her dark brown eyes watched him in curiosity. If he looked close enough, he could almost see sparks of red—

"You're staring, Jaime."

He flinched from Khaji-Da's comment, holding his hand out to shake hands, the woman across from him doing the same.

"Reyes, my name's Jaime Reyes," He nodded, putting on his best smile.

"Alejandra Tlatilpa. But you can call me Drea," She nodded respectfully before switching her glance to his shoes. "Cool shoes."

"Ah, uhm thanks. Not my favourite pair, but they serve their purpose," He chuckled, almost sadly as he remembered the fate of his now-incinerated favoured shoes.

"She's dangerous," Khaji-Da pointed out, Jaime's brows furrowing.

"What? No way," Jaime muttered, Drea, blinking in confusion.

"I'm sorry?" She questioned for clarification.

"No, sorry, I uhm… just a habit of mine, I talk. To myself," He quickly responded, his smile turning awkward.

"Right," She pointed a finger, nodding once more. "Got it. Don't worry about it, we all have our habits."

"Look at the two of you getting along!" Mrs Tlatilpa grinned. "Kanna, why don't you go get Mama? I'm sure she'd love to meet new people."

"Yeah, sure," Drea chirped, smiling one last time at Jaime. "See you around."

"So, your wife?" Bianca questioned, her eyes curious.

"Ah yes, it's a long story," Anika laughed nervously.

"No, no worries! In fact, would your family like to join us for tea?"

gif by @rob-pattinson

taglist: @mooncleaver < comment/dm me if you'd like to be on the taglist! >

[outlandish-dreamer]

Sibling! Animatronics 🎮🧡🤎💛💜

for -🐯

Out of all of them, Freddy acts the oldest/“most parental” towards you. Making sure you don’t hurt yourself or wear yourself out too much.

Making sure you take care of yourself too is another thing. They might be animatronics, but he’s always checking to see if you ate or drank enough water. Stuff like that.

That being said, they each take turns taking care of you and each other. They’ve been around each other for so long, they’re basically family at this point. And with you as their new friend, it’s even more prevalent.

All four of them are masters at pretend games. So whether it’s playing something like pirates, astronauts, fairies, or whatever, they get into it.

Forts!! Forts are a must and each time they build one, it gets more creative and elaborate. Sometimes they’ll take up an entire room. They’re the best spots to play in though.

Bonnie and Chica love the arcade! Bonnie’s usually more competitive over who’s winning and has the higher score, but she’s more happy to just play them. Whenever you’re playing a two-player game, he’ll brag about him winning, but you usually end up beating him. Especially when you and Chica team up against him.

They’re really the most “sibling” out of them all. Sometimes they’ll mess around with you, but mostly they love playing with and protecting you whenever you get scared.

All of them play and are good at their respective instruments, but Foxy’s the most musically inclined I feel like. He’s not part of the main band, so he has his time to shine in pirates cove. Sea shanties, your favorite songs, lullabies, he loves singing in general, and with you, it’s even better.

Also, the best playmate. Whatever idea you come up with, he’s the first to join in and just rolls with it. No matter what it is, as long as it’s not (too) dangerous.

They all love watching the things you draw and join in too as well! They praise and occasionally tease you at how much better you are than them. And whenever you’re done with an art project, they hang each one up either at the stage or on the walls a Somewhere that’s visible so they can see them all and praise you the next time you come back.

[safety-writes-noms]

I SAW DRAGON AND STARTEDNABRAGRHAHB

holding out my idea of wolfwalkers type shit but with dragons. im jsutbtrghgrhgbrjrghrgjngrughibkjfggfhbjgrfihdkjh SMASHING MY HANDS ON MY DESK. PLEASE.

just imagining big angry dragon miguel with gold accents trying his damn hardest not to snap as hes got a bunch of smaller dragons clambering on him and excitedly talking while waiting to be told what to do. being dragons and all they go around and make sure theres peace between kingdoms and stuff ....

sobbing into my hands. i need to see more dragon content im GGGGHR AAHHHHHH

YES OMG PMG I LOVE DRAGON AU’S (so sorry this is kinda late 🙏 school seriously beat me up this week. Also YOUR ART IS SO SO SO COOL!)

(Also also I’m so sorry but I’m not familiar with the wolf walkers series and never got the chance to watch it :(( but I absolutely love the animation style and premise from the ads I’ve seen)

THIS IS NOT NSFW AT ALL!!! KINK BLOGS AND NSFW BLOGS DNI

I can just imagine miguel grumpily walking around with all of the spider kids either nestled on his back or chattering somewhere in the cave, waiting to get assigned their missions. I am in LOVE with the idea of Miguel sending them out to keep the peace between humans since sometimes humans can be very… not wise. Idk actually, maybe the some of the spider kids are humans and that’s how they meet Miguel or peter and Jess (bc I’d love to see them as dragons theyre so cool)

imagine a human Hobie just confidently walking around a dragon’s cave/network society and just casually arguing with a giant dragon Miguel. I’m feel like he’d get in the dumbest arguments with him just for the giggles. I can see him also baby sitting a hatchling mayday, keeping her fully entertained while Peter goes off to finish missions too dangerous to bring her along. Their little interactions in atsv were adorable especially the little salute he gave her.

or the fight between miles and Miguel ☹️ even tho I love him (Miguel) and understand why he did that and his motives, I’ll always feel so bad for miles. I feel like it would even be worse because instead of having a 6’9 roughly judged 310 pounds of muscle man chasing after you and pinning you down, there’s a ten ton dragon hellbent on having your dad die for the sake of the canon, claws, wings, VENOM/FIREBREATHING. It’s pretty much game over at that point. Ofc miles is a resourceful amazing wonderful intelligent human so I think he’d be able to reason with him. Besides, even then I kinda doubt Miguel would want to kill a kid, even if they’re a human. Nurturing instincts don’t go away after ur daughter dies 😋! Actually Miguel might even nom miles in an effort to keep him from messing up the canon :( can you imagine being so so terrified of this huge creature and getting nommed and you don’t know you’re safe and you’re panicking and —

The hurt and comfort is strong here :o. And the guilt. So much guilt. Once they work out their issues (there are so so so many poor dudes) I’m sure they’ll be besties. But that’s for human miles au

dragon miles would definitely get the short end of the stick. Even if he’s a hatchling (kind of, he’s in that odd stage between adult and adolescent but on the younger side) he’s still a whole lot more durable than if he’s a human. Which means that Miguel won’t be nearly as cautious handling him physically. Ouch. Miguel genuinely wants to protect miles in the movie but does it in the worst way possible. That would probably transfer over to this universe too.

But still because I absolutely LIVE for found family, I want to imagine they work through their problems in a long and very very non linear path that has setbacks and leaps forward and minor changes and everything because I love all of these characters sm and without depth they don’t feel like people. Plus imagining sleepy spider kids/dragons stumbling into Miguel’s section of the cave system/lair and deciding to take a quick nap there because it feels safe and waking up with Miguel curled loosely around them, wing slightly shielding them from the chilly drafts and hsjskskdjskj they have my heart. (Miguel will deny it later.)

or peter b taking the human kids out flying to let them feel at least a little what it’s like to taste the sky while Miguel lurks in the background anxiously, crimson eyes tense just in case peter accidentally drops one of them. Not that he would, he may be goofy but he’s most definitely not stupid.

I can imagine Miguel trying his hardest to stop some of the kids from doing things that he thinks is wayyy too dangerous for them and just giving up and tucking them away in his brooding pouch. If they won’t listen to his very very valid concerns then he’ll just have to make sure they don’t go anywhere >:(. Plus it’s warm and safe and even though Miguel will never admit it, he feels calmer if they’re there, protected completely bc he’ll never let anything hurt them. At least not while they’re nestled in one of the literal safest places in the world. I can’t imagine anyone would have an easy time getting to them when there’s a very protective and vengeful dragon guarding his precious brood.

and I haven’t even really gotten into the other characters either :( especially exploring the relationship between Jess and Gwen or Hobie and miles/gwen and pav but I feel like I’m writing too much so I’ll end it here. If you or anyone else wants to continue this thread/au PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE GIVE ME AN ASK! I LOVE THIS AU SM 😭😭