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bookaddict24-7 · 9 months ago

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REVIEWS OF THE WEEK!

EVERY WEEK I WILL POST VARIOUS REVIEWS I’VE WRITTEN SO FAR IN 2024. YOU CAN CHECK OUT MY GOODREADS FOR MORE UP-TO-DATE REVIEWS HERE.

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87. Sidekicked by John David Anderson--⭐️⭐️⭐️

SIDEKICKED was a fun adventure following a kid who has extra strength in his senses (sight, smell, etc). He was paired up with a less than interested mentor who is never really there to save him when he needs it the most. While there is definitely an emphasis on the idea of good vs. evil and what that entails (and the black and white levels of moralities that come with these two terms), we also get a pretty good insight into a middle school young teen boy and his varying emotions about his crush and the new kid in his secret sidekick program.

I honestly thought the concept of this book was fun, especially because we got to see the world of superheroes from the perspective of a younger kid. And because I've always been a fan of superheroes and stuff, so that's always a fun thing for me to read. But the tone of this book felt...older? The main character was sassy (which I loved), but his thought processes also felt like this book would have been better set in high school.

But that being said, this was fun for what it was. I felt really bad for him and the hand he was dealt in the mentor department. But I did enjoy seeing how everything came together. I can see 11+ year-olds really enjoying this. I think it would make a good movie too, tbh, made me think of Sky High a bit, too!

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88. Cherry Magic! Vol. 2 by Yuu Toyota , Taylor Engel (Translator)--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Okay, I'm officially obsessed with this series. I know this is only volume 2, but sometimes I just know when I'm going to devour a series and this volume is it for me.

Still not the biggest fan of the artwork, but I love these two characters and the hilarious thoughts and commentary. I also love this idea of a character who isn't popular being romanced by another character that everyone else wants. I love this and need more!!

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89. Stay Gold by Tobly McSmith--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

It took me a while to pick up STAY GOLD even though I knew I was going to love it (I was right). From the very beginning, I was pulled in by the personalities of these characters and how well they worked off each other. I also felt their emotions and frustrations as they navigated the difficult and sometimes dangerous halls of high school. I also appreciated how McSmith navigated the complex emotions teens have of how they are perceived by the people around them.

This was such an emotional punch and I think that some trigger warnings will need to be read by those who are sensitive to suicidal thoughts, misgendering, dead-naming, and homophobic violence. The way McSmith wrote on these topics also showed me how having people who love you surround you is so incredibly important. It was also a great insight into how one's experience can't be seen as everyone's experiences. There was one character who was pushing the MMC to do something that though could be helpful to a group of people, it could be incredibly dangerous for the MMC.

I'm cis, so I am privileged enough to never have to deal with this level of danger, but it broke my heart to see the MMC torn between what others believed to be right and what was right for him.

The FMC had such great character growth and is proof that sometimes patience is a virtue--but also hope.

I just really loved this book and I'm so glad I finally picked it up! Now I have to read McSmith's other book!

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90. Cherry Magic! Vol. 3 by Yuu Toyota , Taylor Engel (Translator)--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Ugh the cuteness. I can't. Watching the MMC slowly fall and realize his feelings? Please.

I remember finishing this book and immediately cursing myself for not having Volume 4 readily available to read right after. I'm excited to see how those around them react to their slowly forming love. I also love seeing the jealousy and how intense the love interest is with the MMC.

Also, something I noticed is that the volumes have a content advisory but these are pretty clean (so far). Gay manga must equal parental advisory, I guess LOL. Please.

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91. The Haunted Forest Tour by James A. Moore & Jeff Strand--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Holy crap, THE HAUNTED FOREST TOUR was such a fun and bloody horror. I don't know what I was expecting, but it wasn't that. The brutality and blasé way that the authors killed off characters was actually amusing. I don't think there was a heck of a lot of depth into this book, but I honestly just had such a good time reading this.

The one thing I wasn't a fan off and why the one star was taken off was the unnecessary mentions of these creepy men wanting to bend over certain women to have sex with them. It just felt predatory. Like the dude who had to constantly remind himself he was married. Or the ones who were always thinking about having sex with women who had no idea they were thinking these thoughts. It was creepy and unnecessary. God forbid we have a horror book where women aren't sexualized for the sake of making the reader either uncomfortable or just...because male authors can't help but comment on women who are "do-able".

Anyway, other than that, this story was pretty original and so, so bloody. It's a perfect October read tbh. Surprised the hell out of me. Would also make a great movie.

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92. The Escape by Katherine Applegate--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I'm starting to find that I really like the story told from this perspective. I think this character is one of the more underestimated ones because when we see him from other characters' POVs, we see someone who is one way, but from his perspective, we see his true depths. Which is something he touches on here: he's the funny friend; the one who never seems to take anything too seriously, but this kid wears the humour mask as a survival thing.

This was a great addition to the series because of the emotional aspect. And THE ESCAPE also makes me want to read more of the series just so I can see this character get his greatest wish granted.

Also, loved how great they all worked together!

Will hopefully read the next one soon!

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93. Cherry Magic! Vol. 4 by Yuu Toyota , Taylor Engel (Translator)--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Stop, I can't with this adorableness.

The fact that these two characters are so different but not at the same time kills me. One is very good at hiding their nerves and if it wasn't for these powers, the MMC wouldn't even know it. Sigh, both a gift and a curse.

I love that the character growth in this one--especially as someone with social anxiety--happened so organically. The MMC is going at his own pace but is still keeping the love interest's feelings in mind. I seriously can't wait to see how this all develops over the next few volumes!

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94. Dick Fight Island by Reibun Ike--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

My adventures in Boy Love Manga has led me to this interesting work of art.

While yes, the majority of this is definitely porn, the storyline was actually really interesting and unique. And the artwork is freaking stunning. My friend told me that he didn't finish volume 2, so I'll probably just stay with this one and remember the story (cough) fondly.

I'm happy I read this because it was truly something else, but if you're thinking of reading this, be prepared. I don't think I'd recommend reading this on the bus.

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95. Dread Detention by Jennifer Killick--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I read this book under a different name and I was so surprised to see it was the same book (I just bought a physical copy of this book and the other books in this series, so that was a nice surprised.)

I genuinely really enjoyed DREAD WOOD (or DREAD DETENTION). It definitely gave me EIGHT LEGGED FREAKS vibes, especially with some of the scarier scenes. I love middle grade horror books like this one because it's just pure story--sometimes, older books have too much focus on the characters themselves rather than the scary side of a horror book. I thought there was a good moral story behind this and I think it's great kids will (hopefully) get this message.

I also was reminded of the Katherine Arden middle grade horror books where kids work together to solve monster and scary mysteries.

DREAD WOOD did have moments where it felt older than its intended audience, so I'd probably recommend this to the older side of middle grade.

If you're scared of spiders, you'll either have to miss out on this one or you'll have to find your bravery!

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Have you read any of these titles? What were your thoughts?

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Happy reading!

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divineinsights · 1 year ago

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Childhood, Present, and Future

I had a dream that felt like a nightmare. I was hiding in a room that kept changing. For a brief second, I was hiding in the bedroom that I once shared with my sister. Then I was hiding in my parents' room. The room changed again, and I was in a room somewhere else, unrelated to my childhood. I was in the body of my younger self and my soul... my current mind and awareness lay dormant in a child's mind. I was 8 or 9 years old again... back to those dark days that I have no interest in remembering. I heard bang, Bang, BANG! That's my dad banging on the door, trying to break in so he could beat me. Pertrified and trapped, as I was ducking behind a nightstand, I thought, this is the end of me. He will probably kill me. it will hurts A LOT and I will probably die. As I took my eyes off the door, I realized I was holding a smartphone phone! (It didn't exist back then.) It was actually my phone in real life, a Samsung X-whatever. My body quickly changes from a child to an older version of me. Since I couldn't see my face and my physical body through another person's eyes... I'm unsure if I've changed into the teenager version of me or the adult version of me. As I became aware of my phone, my mind became mature—closer to my mind now—and I thought, "Oh, I will just call 911! I don't have to be afraid; I don't have to get beat up. I can change this. The police will..." and I woke up. I was upset at my guides and whatever divine power out there that was unknown to me. Sometimes ago in meditation, or it could have been a random message or an insight that I received outside of meditation. It said that there is something in my past that I need to remember. In order to change (or understand), I have to remember. I replied in thoughts that I didn't want to relive those horrible, violent days. The dream forced me to go back and remember the event I have no interest to wonder or ponder about. Lying on the bed mad and all, a feeling or a voice in thoughts came through and said, "We didn't really force you. it could have been a real nightmare where you had zero control, but you had control—did you not guide the dream from a nightmare to a regular dream?" I paused and thought, "Okay, true!" As a child, I was helpless and vulnerable, but as an adult, I was as not as vulnerable. I was more capable of defending myself and had the courage to call the cops on my dad. It mirrored 2 real events when I called the cops on my father because I was scared and convinced that he was going to kill my mom. As a result... I was shamed and shunned by everyone except for my sister. These incidents played a role in shaping me into a very destructive, selfish, and angry person. I get angry when I feel.... and super defensive when.... the beast in me was born.

I was a depressed teenager. Lost... very lost. Sad... very, very sad. What made it all much harder was that I didn't know, I didn't understand what I was feeling, and what I was going through. I had no one to talk to... no one but God and myself.

My friend Yvonne and I, decided to enter a psychic place. It looks creepy, so she stayed outside by the door. Since it was my idea, I went in to have a look. There was an empty, white wooded baby crib... but no baby, and no one was there. There was a huge glass window that everyone could see through in the first room. There were no curtains, so that room was very bright thanks to the afternoon sunshine. I found another room; the door were left open about an inch or an inch in a half. I decided to stick my head in there and said, "Hello?". I couldn't see anything... I was blinded by the sun... my vision didn't have enough time to adjust. All I heard was chanting, and I smelled a dense smoke of incense going up my nose. Something came over me and the hair on the back of my neck stood up. I felt a sense of danger and ran out the door. I thought nothing of it until that night around 11pm, 12am or 1am as I lay there waiting to fall asleep. I was staring at my ceiling. I began to hear chanting, the same chanting I heard from the psyhic place. I kept on seeing the image of that place... the white house. I felt a pull, like something was pulling me back, back to that house. I shook myself out of it, I thought I may have gone too far by imagining these ideas in my head. I noticed a shadow—a shadow of the devil—like the one portrayed in the rider tarot decks. I only saw the head not the whole body. That very moment, I blinked and could open my eyes. I couldn't move! I thought if I could move my toes, just one toe or just one finger, I would snap out of it. I kept on trying but couldn't. I think I was in a slow-spinning tunnel when an unseen force aggressively pushed me out of my body. I thought if I allow it, I would surely die. I clung to my body with my mind. Summoning all my strength and tightly holding on to my body with my mind or mental power as I pray to Jesus and God for help. As soon as I called on Jesus, it became more violent, pushing me harder, which tells me that it was working. Finally, I felt a big slam and regained control of my body. It felt like my eyes were never closed-- wide open the whole time. I had the same experience for days; I was afraid to sleep. I later found out I had sleep paralysis. I prayed every day and every night; I even read the Bible out loud and went to the Kingdom Hall. Eventually it stopped, and I was able to sleep again!

About 2 years ago... I was trying to do a past live regression via YouTube because I didn't have the funds for it. As I was listening to the YouTube-guided meditation, I was alert and lucid. I didn't think it was going to work. When the lady said, "Now it is time for you to go back..." Suddenly, I was spinning in circles, faster and faster. The next thing I knew, I was on my bed. As I propped myself up, I saw a shadowy figure... (silhouette?) of a girl with hair in front of her face. I thought, Who is this? What is this? Was I a murderer or a psychopath in my past lives? When she jumped on the bed and squatted down, I was frightened! I tried to get up and run, but then I realized I was paralyzed. I started to pray TO ALL KIND OF GODS AND DEITIES! Something or someone came to my rescue. A glowing golden card with inner white borders fell on my lap, and these words appear in white font, "Find 8". The world started to spin... Something happened with time... That moment was deleted, and I was back to when the lady said, "Now it is time for you to go back..." Again the world started to spin and I was to go again... I freaked out and said, "No, NO NO! I don't want to do this anymore!" I then woke up or came out of it.

I looked up 8... can't remember the exact phrase I searched on the search engine. I read an article or a post that listed 8 as a spiritual teacher. I thought... okay.... maybe I need to find a spiritual teacher to teach me. Weeks or a month later, I found Xane. I thought he was willing to help me but no, he just wanted MONEY! He said the Hathor was his guide. I thought it was strange because I wasn't into the history, ideologies, or religions/teachings of the Ancient Egyptian. Xane did mention that the golden card reminded him of Tarot Cards. He asked if I ever had anything to do with them. I said no. I did have one or two readings done, but I've no interest in them. I told him that it couldn't be the tarot cards because I had zero connection to them. I can't remember if he told me that 8 could be an infinity symbol or if I came to that realization on my own. I continued on, trying to find any clues about my 8. On my journey, I have come across the teachings of many spiritual teachers and Mosab. A few days ago I saw a picture of a tarot card or maybe I remembered what Xane said and decided to search for "tarot card with an infinity symbol" The Magician from the Rider deck came up. The world stood still, deep within my soul I knew that the Magician was me or could be me. I felt a connection to the card and that specific deck, enough to decide to purchase one. I feel a strong urge to look up the meaning of the card. It feels like I am finally receiving the messages from whoever was trying to send me. I found another card, it was the Strength card. The meaning of that card resonates with me and links all the themes or experiences that have occurred in my life.

The Magican is what I am pursuing, what I would like to be. The card warned me to be careful, if I get too conceited I could fall very hard. The maiden is about my nightmare, my childhood trauma, the beast in me that I need to tame. If I refused to look into my past. If I refused to remember what happened to me, I wouldn't be able to help the child in me to fully understand what really did happen and how to heal from it. There is darkness in me. There is a beast in me. I must tame this beast. I must heal this beast and release it. But how can I do so, if I refused to look at it, refused to understand it? To be able to tame the beast, I need to be friends with it, acknowledge it and allow it to be heard, and give it love, forgiveness, and compassion so the beast can move on and heal.

(Days later I found a third card with an infinity symbol and that was about me as well).

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renaerys · 3 years ago

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Okay I've got one: Prompt 15 with Reds. 🤣🤣🤣

15. “I can’t hear a word you’re saying, I just keep thinking about how good that mouth feels.”

Somehow they can make even breathing a competition.

Send me a prompt and some characters! Reminder that the challenge is to make everything SFW, so we're getting creative here.

List of prompts

xxx

“So, we’ve called the paramedics and they’re on their way, but until they arrive it’s up to us. Remember the acronym, kids: C-A-B. What’s the first thing you do?”

Aiyeesha Simpson, a gunner in the making destined for academic greatness and social ruin, raised her eager hand. “Find a flat surface to lay him down!”

“Correct.” Blossom took Brick by the shoulders and shoved him down to the floor. A gaggle of Girl Scouts gathered around him as he wheezed for air.

“Ow,” he said.

Blossom patted his chest. “Please choke more quietly.”

I will end you, he thought so loudly he hoped she could hear him through the murder in his eyes. There was community service, and then there was cruel and unusual punishment. When his required hours were up and his record expunged, he was going to write a very negative Yelp review of the local Townsville Girls Scouts of America chapter and tank this year’s cookie sales. Supremely annoying, outrageously petty, and totally legal. That would teach Blossom for sure.

“Place your hands here between the nipples.”

Some of the Cadette Girl Scouts giggled. To be fair, Blossom of all people saying the word nipples in reference to her former mortal enemy as she trained a room full of twelve-year-old girls in CPR using him as the dummy was a perfect storm of absurd and kinky that he did not see coming. And now he was giggling himself, because he was a teenaged boy who thought the word nipples was funny regardless of the very clear contextual cues, and that pubescent shame was on him, one hundred percent.

Blossom, an ancient and inconveniently attractive evil resurrected in a lab for the sole purpose of making his life miserable, did not appreciate his amusement. “Push hard at a rate of 100 to 120 compressions per minute. Remember to put your bodyweight behind it, like this.”

Brick flexed, and Blossom pushed against his heart like she was trying to crush it in her hands. Once, twice, three times she administered compressions, and Brick’s eyes glowed red with impotent rage.

“Assist Blossom with her CPR lessons to her satisfaction, and we can forget this ever happened,” Mayor Bellum had promised Brick when he lost his temper and blew up an (empty) ambulance. Butch didn’t need his Super stomach pumped no matter how much he drank, so the ambulance and the four-figure bill that came with it were completely unnecessary. This defense did not convince the mayor, however.

The promise of the bill forgiven and his record cleared—and the deterrence of Aiyeesha Simpson filming the whole thing to upload to YouTube later—gave Brick the strength not to eye beam Blossom in front of the children.

“Okay, who wants to try chest compressions on the dummy?” Blossom offered to the girls.

You evil bitch, thought the aforementioned dummy.

After the third little girl properly placed her sticky, little girl hands between his nipples, Brick had had enough. “Hey, I’m still dying over here. Can we move on already? Jesus Christ.”

“Of course.” Blossom smiled, and she had never looked more terrifying.

Brick hoped Butch was suffering. He hoped he was hung over so bad he couldn’t piss standing up. He hoped Butch tried going online only to find that Brick had disconnected the Internet and cut him off from all his online games and porn because fuck Butch and his weak-ass stomach.

“Who knows what the next step is? Maybe someone other than Aiyeesha this time?”

None of the other girls seemed willing to stick their hands up. The carpet under Brick had scorched where his power leaked out in his building resentment for this entire situation. The smell of burned polyester just made him feel even more powerless to stop this.

“No? Okay, well, remember the acronym. A is for airway. You want to be careful about a possible neck injury, so gently lift the chin…”

Blossom’s hands were not sticky like the Girl Scouts’ hands, but they were cold where they touched his skin and forced his head back.

“Are the paramedics here yet?”

Brick got a tight fist in his short hair for that one, and he considered it a small victory. “No. Something about a shortage of ambulances, apparently.”

Biiiiiiiitch.

God, he was going to destroy her so bad.

“Once you’ve cleared the airway and confirmed there are no obstructions—”

“Then you kiss!”

Some girls picked up the giggling again. Blossom, ever the professional, cleared her throat. “Mouth to mouth is a life-saving procedure and not something I’d recommend doing to someone you plan to kiss.”

Wow, great advice.

Some girls still giggled and whispered to each other. Brick had a sinking feeling that this was only going to end with his embarrassment: everyone knew that the cold judgment of pre-pubescent girls was the absolute worst type of judgment a person could suffer.

“Are you gonna show us?”

“Well, I don’t think I need to show you all how to breathe—”

“It’s in the manual! You have to demonstrate every step.” Aiyeesha waved the CPR manual, and Brick realized his misjudgment. She was no vapid goody two-shoes in the making, but a future Honors Student with a secret, a Work Hard Party Harder, an Ivy League Early Decision candidate with all of senior spring semester to slack off because no one was ever going to touch her 4.3 GPA.

Aiyeesha beamed a winning smile at Brick, and it was as chilling as Blossom’s.

Jesus Christ, there are two of them.

True to form, Blossom had never been able to defy a good instructions manual. “I suppose if it says so in the manual…”

Locking lips with Blossom was not a big deal. He’d done it before when they were kids, and he could appreciate the irony of a gesture meant to save his life this time rather than end it. She didn’t even try to mess with him by using her ice breath, just went through the motions as described in the instructions. The girls were disappointed with the lack of hormonal fanfare of it all, which was probably for the best. Leave it to Blossom to make mouth to mouth the sexless, medical act it was literally intended to be. He was almost upset, because it felt like she’d won something here, which could only mean he’d lost.

Disappointed but more educated than they’d been when they’d arrived two hours ago, the Girl Scouts dispersed after the lesson, leaving Blossom and Brick to put away the equipment they’d used.

She held a dummy torso, and she was looking at him with that pinched, constipated look she got when she was about to say something especially snobby. Instead, she surprised him. “Brick, thanks for being mature about it. I can honestly say you surprised me.”

He stared at her.

“I’ll talk to Mayor Bellum. I’m sure you’ve done enough to meet your hours quota.”

He had not fulfilled even half of his required community service hours and they both knew it.

“So yeah, thanks. I can finish up here if you want to leave.”

Was she trying to get rid of him? Why?

“Brick? Why are you looking at me like that?”

When Blossom was winning, he was losing. That was simply the way of the world. So, if she was losing, it could only mean he was winning.

“Are you listening to me?”

Brick smiled in what he hoped was a cool, sexy way if he imagined looking at anyone but Blossom. “I can’t hear a word you’re saying. I just keep thinking about how good that mouth feels.”

Blossom stared. “I’m sorry?”

He would make her sorry.

“Yeah, you’re a great teacher. I could really feel your passion for demonstrating the lesson correctly. With your mouth.”

Her staring intensified. “Did you.”

“Oh, yeah.” He leaned his hip against the table like he’d seen in the movies. It worked for Daniel Craig in Casino Royale, and that guy had convinced Eva Green. Iconic. “I could really feel you trying to save me.”

Where was Aiyeesha with her phone to film this? There was so little he could do to rattle Blossom as they got older, and while the challenge delighted him, it was also exhausting being constantly a step behind her. Was this truly her demise? Had he won the Teenage Experience? Was this poetic justice for how she’d once killed him with a mere kiss, only to suffer the same fate in turn? He could have cackled. This was better than trolling the Girl Scouts of America reviews, although he might still do that because it was a genius idea and he had always indulged his own genius ideas when they came to him.

So infatuated was he with his own self-fellating digression that he was slow to react to Blossom sidling up to him. Her hand was still cold on his chin, and it sent a shiver down his spine. “Shall I save you again?”

Brick’s dignity drained with his blood, which was an unfortunate side-effect of being a teenaged boy that he would just have to suffer. But winning was about recognizing one’s weaknesses and working around them. He leaned into her personal space. “Please.”

He wasn’t sure who kissed who first, but it was happening and all he could think was I am better at this than you and I hate you and also Do that again. He tried holding her waist, and she fought back with her fingers in his hair. Not one to be deterred, Brick tried some tongue but pulled back when he tasted thirty degrees below zero. He immediately went back in because he could feel her superiority, her Got you, you horny idiot, but the joke was on her because he liked her cold, always had when it was hot as balls out and he’d make up any excuse to pick a fight with her just for the chance to cool off.

The Girl Scout troop leader walked in on them competitively making out in the classroom like it was an Olympic sport and put an end to things, leaving them at a frustrating draw for now. They said barely a word to each other when Brick glared at the troop leader so bad she flustered and didn’t even question them before running out of there with some excuse about getting the wrong room.

Later that evening, Brick caved and changed the Internet password back just so Butch would quit whining at him. He Googled kissing techniques and spent the next hour and a half watching YouTube videos and reading GQ articles about How to Please Her Like a Champion, because he was a champion and a winner and he was not going to lose to Blossom in this. Not a chance.

This had to be what they meant when they said kill with kindness.

“I’m going to end you,” he muttered to himself as he read about the top ten highest voted movie kissing scenes, which he would then stream and commit to memory in order to be fully armed and armored for the next time he encountered Blossom alone in a classroom. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe during their shared free period.

Truly, he had the most genius ideas.

xxx

If you enjoy my writing, check out more of my fics on AO3, link in my profile. I’m currently updating Trinity House and The Alchemy of Us. Thanks for reading!

#powerpuff girls #blossick #ppg reds #ppg brick #ppg blossom #powerpuff girls fanfic #september fic prompts #great pick Carrie!#this one was fun

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in-superbloom · 3 years ago

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did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen? (a.i.)

right where you left me: prologue

pairing: ashton irwin x olivia jones (oc)

warnings: uhh a kinda grieving theme i guess? but no deaths. it has a sad tone overall, but nothing major (in this chapter hehe). foul language because i can't help myself. the tiniest mention of alcohol, but as a memory. think i should probably warn you that this contains a very sad ash. also not much dialogues. this is mainly for explanation and introduction, but very important for the story. if you find anything else that might be triggering, please let me know so i can add it here !!

author's note: oof okay. so. this is the prologue of a series very very dear to my heart that i've been working on for what it feels like my whole life but really it's been just a few months. but i'm in love with the story (which rarely happens with my own writing) so i hope you can enjoy it too !! this is also my very first time posting a fic since 2013 so pls keep that in mind <3 no i am not shaking as type this ofc not also: although i have the full story ready in my head, this is the only chapter that's written. i wanted to wait until i had at least a few ready before posting this but i'm too anxious for that lmao just saying this bc it will take a good while until i have any more chapters, so <3 (p.s.: i went over this thing a million times since may so if you find any errors pls look away, i'm not fixing this thing anymore. thanks <3)

another note: anna from the future here to say that i completely forgot about the playlist i made for the story lmao here it is in case you're interested k thanks bye <3

credits: title is from taylor swift's song right where you left me. model in the picture: paola locatelli. banner by me.

i also wanted to take a minute to thank some really nice friends that i've made here over these past few months & that i'm extremely grateful for @wastelandcth @suchalonelysunflower @littledrummerangie i cannot thank you babes enough for inspiring me the way that you do & for letting me yell about this to you && for encouraging me so much 🥺 i'll never be able to explain just how much this means to me, so i'll have to settle for saying thank you at any change that i can get <3 i love you all 💜 also gem my baby, thank you for the inspo with the banner 💚

@bluesdelis look babe i did it 😌 you know how grateful i am for you & for you letting me have a breakdown every week about my writing for the past 8 years so let's not dive into that or else i will write something bigger than this prologue jsjsjdjd love you 🖤

i hope you all have a good reading and a nice day ♡

let me know what are your thoughts about the fic ! ♡

word count: 4.1k

☆☆☆

Cold. That was the first thing that Olivia’s brain processed.

Still with her eyes closed, she buried herself more into the duvet, while her arm blindly reached for the furnace in human form that she calls boyfriend. However, as soon as her arm was only met with cold sheets, her eyes shot open.

Blinking the sleep away, she sat up on the bed, searching for the infamous red clock resting on Ashton’s bedside table that was supposed to look like a vintage alarm clock. Olivia had ordered it online at an auction website a couple of years back, as a gift for his 23rd birthday, since it was something he had mentioned multiple times prior that he was looking for, but still hadn't found. But when it finally came in (two weeks after the due date), it looked nothing like the picture she saw on the website. Feeling beyond frustrated, she wanted to send it back immediately and ask for a refund and maybe leave a not so polite review on the seller's page. But Ashton stopped her right away, laughing like the situation was absolutely hilarious to him, while saying, 'I like it, it’s quirky'. So, the clock stayed and found a home right next to him in their room.

Some days, however, she would wake up at some ungodly hour because of the blaring noise of the only ringtone the clock had. But whatever annoyance she could feel towards the object, it always vanished as soon as she felt Ashton's lips gently touching her face in a good morning kiss before he would get up to start his day, leaving her to catch some more hours of well deserved sleep.

As the furthest from a morning person as a touring musician could possibly be, Olivia had always feared that living under the same roof as Ashton would turn her into an early bird like him, but she's thankful that it never happened (not that he needs to know about that).

When she sees the red clock, she smiles at the sudden but welcome memories of them flooding her foggy brain, but frowns slightly when she realizes it reads 12:13 pm. Ashton rarely lets her sleep past 10 am.

Gathering all her strength and will, she rises up from the bed, smoothly picking up a grey wool sweatshirt from the chair (way too baggy on her slim body, but it smells like him), pulling it over her head and relishing on the soft material warming up her body. Making her way to the door and calmly going down the stairs, she can’t help but stop for a minute to admire the picture frames on their walls, one in particular catches her attention – probably one of the most prized pictures and memories they had. It felt older than it actually is, but it was around 4 years ago, she's sure – a little while after the two of them met. The picture was of their group of friends that still remains the same: Ashton and his best friend, Luke; Olivia, her best friend, Calum and their old hometown friend, turned into Calum’s new friend at college, turned into everyone’s friend, Michael; and her then newly band members, Suki, Eli and Ravi. Together, their group was the life of the party through all their college years, and it showed by the big smiles and drinks in hands they all had in the picture. It was a very special night, the first time Olivia’s little band played for the public – for a small audience sure, but it was a wonderful night nonetheless. What a long road it had been since that night.

Her nostalgic thoughts were interrupted by a shiver that went through her whole body, and it made her realize how oddly cold the whole house was, not only their bedroom. Which, granted, it was November in New York and the weather was just getting colder, but that’s exactly why Ashton always made sure to keep the house warm enough. As much as she loved the chilly season, the warm weather always reminded him of his hometown, and who was she to deny him that?

The smell of fresh made coffee could be sensed even before she reached the kitchen. Arriving there, the curly haired woman still found no signs of her boyfriend, so she went straight after the coffee maker pot sitting on the far left corner of the cream marble counter. Smiling softly at the tons of memories of Ashton's sleepy figure making their favorite beverage, she reached for a coffee mug on the cupboard on top of the counter and poured the remainder of the hot liquid on it (it's her favorite mug, if she must choose – it was a gift from a fan, and it had printed on it a collage of the pictures of her and Ashton that were posted on social media through their first year of relationship).

Moving to the glass doors that lead to the mini garden they cultivate, she didn't have to open them to spot the 6-feet-tall man sitting on a bench outside, looking oddly small in his oversized clothes, coffee mug tightly held between strong hands. Something about his figure made Olivia frown, however: he was staring with an unwavering look at her small but eye-catching pot of yellow daffodils that were almost as much of a pet to them as Stitch at this point. Sensing that there’s something definitely off about his semblance, she made a mental note to talk to him and find out what’s wrong later. So she goes back to the kitchen, knowing that he might need this quiet and private moment for himself.

She lost count of the minutes that went by (couldn't have been more than five) before she hears the garden's door opening and closing, and then his bare feet are dragging his brawny body to her. Except, he goes over to the sink, walking right through her, not showing any sign that he even saw her hunched figure over the counter table in the middle of the room.

Alright, someone's in a mood.

Olivia tries to swallow the annoyance already bubbling inside her – he knows how much she hates to be ignored, no matter how mad he might be – by trying to think of what she can say that won't piss him off. This is always a hard feat to accomplish when Ashton gets in these moods, but there’s a reason for them to work so well together.

“I missed my favorite body heater when I woke up,” she says in her best sweet voice, knowing how quickly his resolve crumbles when he hears that voice.

Still, no reaction.

That settles a worry at the pit of her stomach, because Ashton is never like this. Even when he's not in the mood to talk, he always gives some kind of reaction to her words; it doesn't matter how small, just enough to make her feel acknowledged.

When he's finished washing his mug and the few scattered dishes across the sink – she noticed that he already had lunch, if the lone plate in the drying rack is anything to go by –, he dries his hand in a towel, turns around and throws it on top of the same counter Olivia was leaning up against. Once again, he walks away not even sparing her a look.

Indignant, she leaves the now empty coffee mug on top of the table and follows him as he walks up the stairs, any determination to not aggravate his mood now well gone.

“Hey! In case you didn't notice, I'm right here. Whatever got you in this sour mood, I'm certainly not to blame, so can you stop being a child now and talk to me?!”

Ashton just keeps walking – more like sluggishly dragging his body – until he reaches their bedroom and suddenly stops just merely two feet inside the room, looking around with vacant eyes; like he was expecting to see something that wasn't there.

“Okay, that's really mature of you. Are you planning on ignoring me all day then?” Olivia questions exasperated, staring angrily at the back of his neck, where the condor tattoo lives – her favorite of his, but that sight doesn't bring her any peace today like it usually does.

Her glare only breaks when she hears the familiar sound of dog tags swaying on her right side. Shifting her gaze to the direction of the sound, Olivia notices Stitch, their small, black & white French bulldog – who she thought was outside in the garden – slowly trudging his way from around the bed until he stops at Ashton's feet, looking up at one of his humans with sad eyes. That realization only makes the worry in her stomach grow uncomfortably.

“Hi buddy,” Ashton's voice cracks a bit from the lack of use, but he smiles softly at the sweet dog, and crouches down to pet him.

Olivia can't help but gasp as she notices three things all at once that leave her overwhelmed: first, how she didn't even notice Stitch was in the room when she woke up – which never ever happens, in fact, most days he wakes her up whenever he deems her bedtime as finished and can't ever contain his excitement when she finally gets up; second, how the windows blinds are closed, which, again, rarely occurs under their roof, not if Ashton can help it. And third, how sad and melancholic the whole scene in front of her is – how sad and melancholic Ashton is. Pointless to say by now – that's also a very rare occasion.

A chill creeps up Olivia's spine, putting her body into high alert and also serving as a reminder of how everything looks out of place today. Trying to keep her head from spiraling down way too soon, she wraps her arms around herself and crouches down beside her two favorite boys, trying once more.

“Ash? Can you hear me?” even with her throat closing, she softly asks, purposefully putting her face in Ashton's point of view. Her only answer is the low whispers he's letting out to Stitch, while cradling the tiny dog in his arms, spreading gentle kisses on his head.

“I know, bud, I know. I miss her too,” is the only whisper she could understand and immediately wishes she hadn't. The weak wail that comes from Stitch's throat seems to fit perfectly with how the three of them feel.

Ashton then looks up and for a couple of seconds, and Olivia can swear he’s staring right into her eyes. But when he shows no reaction, she knows he’s just staring ahead and not at her, with that look that says there’s too much going on inside his head. She feels the urge to embrace him and get him to talk about whatever is on his mind, so they can share that weight like they always do, but when Ashton gets up from the ground and settles on the bed with Stitch, Olivia can physically feel the crack in her heart caused by the feeling she’s left with.

While Ashton is pulling the duvet over him and the dog, with clearly no intentions of getting up anytime soon, Olivia stands up on her feet with a new-found determination – she needs to figure out what the hell is going on.

This nightmare had to be just that, right? Nothing but a very vivid dream – she's had those before. Scary sure, but they always go away, and soon enough she's back into Ashton's arms, with Stitch jumping on the bed ready to lick their faces off. She just needs to wake herself up from whatever fucked up dream this is – right?

She's running down the stairs this time, frantically in search of something, of what exactly, she doesn’t know – but she knows she needs an answer. The more she looks for something, the more desperate she gets, not knowing what to look for. Then suddenly, something catches her eyes.

The white and blue calendar that's held up by magnets on the side of the fridge. She knows their calendar is red and yellow. They got it from their favorite flower market. Slowly, as if scared of what it might be there – “It's just a calendar, for fucks sake” – she approaches the damn thing. Upon inspection, she deems it as a normal calendar – she really doesn't know what she was expecting – until.

She knows what's wrong with it now.

It's November. She knows it, because the Asian and last leg of her first world tour is about to begin November 21st, eleven days from today. Right after Mike's birthday, she knows this.

Then why does the calendar say today is January 14th?

☆ ☆ ☆

Ashton woke up with a jolt. He quickly sat up, frightening the little Frenchie that was asleep right next to him on the bed. Trying to make sense of his surroundings, he roughly rubbed his face to get some sleep off of it and soon reached for the dog that was staring at him with sleepy but sad eyes. Ashton is sure Stitch understands far more than a dog is supposed to understand about their current situation.

The room is covered in shadows, almost pitch black, but he can see the sunlight even through the thick dark grey blinds covering up the windows. Ashton knows he won't be able to sleep again at that moment, so he gets up from the bed – much slower than he used to. His heartbeat is still out of control because of the nightmare that woke him up, but he can't bother to pay attention to it when Stitch is softly wailing beside him. Ashton lets out a ghost of a smile when the dog rests his head on his right upper thigh, looking up at him with an expression Ashton knows all too well.

“C'mon you little ravenous creature, let's feed you,” the bulldog excitedly jumps to the ground, already running his way down the stairs, not even waiting for Ashton to get up.

That gets a real smile out of him, but it vanishes as soon as he glances at the alarm clock on his bedside table. It reads 5:13 am, nothing out of the ordinary for him. But that small and inoffensive clock, with its red paint peeling off, holds a lot of memories for him. Memories that two months ago would bring joy to his heart, but now he almost wants to throw the object across the room.

It was a stupid thing, really. He had been wanting a vintage alarm clock and Olivia got one for his birthday. But the product they received was definitely not the one she bought, and if he's being honest, he didn't like it as much as he made out to. But seeing her so excited in the weeks before it arrived, and how disappointed she was when it did, he couldn't help but try his best to make her smile that luminous smile again. It's part of his nature by now.

That's also the reason why he lets her think that he doesn't notice when she wakes up at some ungodly hour (her words, not his) along with him, because of the annoying and only sound the alarm clock is able to produce. He always leaves soft kisses in every inch of bare skin he can find on her sleeping figure, so she goes back to the dream land and doesn't wake up before 10 am. No one wants to deal with that kind of bad humor, not even him.

As much as he likes being a morning person and absolutely enjoys her company in the mornings, he knows she'll take any and every extra hour of sleep she can get before starting the day. And that's why he loves that she's so stubborn that his early bird tendencies never got to her – he knows she feared that this would happen when they moved in together, but he met her like this, fell for her like this. He wouldn't change a single thing about her.

Ashton drags himself out of the bed, wincing slightly at how cold the wooden floors are under his bare feet. He doesn't bother putting some socks on, or a sweater – the cold weather in the house is uncharacteristically comforting to him. Nothing feels warm without her anyway.

While descending the stairs, he mentally curses himself for not being strong enough to look past the picture frames on the wall. One in particular catches his eyes – a picture from the night of Olivia's first concert with her band. The memories of that night are still painfully vivid in his mind: the laughter among their group that eventually infected everyone at the pub, Suki and Luke's first kiss and the silly smile that didn't leave his best friend's face all night, the standing ovation Olivia got after her three-songs set, and her captivating and breathtaking smile that made him realize right then and there, while watching her sway to the music, that he was definitely falling in love with her and there was nothing he could do to stop it – not that he wanted to.

So many memories held up on that wall, in the relatively short time since they met, that he can't help but wonder if that's all they'll get in this lifetime.

Ashton is abruptly taken out of his thoughts by Stitch's barks coming from the bottom of the stairs. He quickly jogs down the few steps left and goes straight after the dog's food in the kitchen's cabinet. After Stitch starts to happily devour his breakfast, Ashton goes to make his coffee, doing enough for two people like he always does, since Calum drops by most days for a chat or to drop Duke before going to work. Although all three of them know he just can't bother to make food for himself in the morning, while Ashton is the group's elected chef. Ashton always says he just needs a boyfriend – Olivia says Calum already has one who makes him breakfast every day.

He grabs an apple from the fridge and makes his way outside to their garden. Even though a lot of their memories took place there, the garden is the only space in the house where he doesn't feel like suffocating all the time. At least here, he can breathe some fresh air and look at the sky when he's feeling overwhelmed – which is basically all he's been doing for about a month now.

Yet, a lot of the garden has Olivia's name written all over.

He remembers vividly the day she came home after spending two weeks in LA doing some pocket shows, with a pack of daffodil seeds and the largest smile. She excitedly told him that a friend gifted it to her when she mentioned the little garden they were planning to build together at their new house. The friend told Olivia that daffodils symbolize rebirth and new beginnings, so as the good lover of symbolism that she is, Olivia loved the idea of having those flowers to symbolize their new beginning.

Ashton, on the other hand, wasn't a fan of the flowers at first – he just didn't see the appeal to them. But nonetheless, he indulged her, letting Olivia plant the seeds near the bench they used to sit during the quiet and unrushed afternoons, so they could admire the sunset, and she could happily look at the daffodils.

Pointless to say – the damn flowers grew on him.

Now, however, looking at them without Olivia and her contagious joy next to him, they were back to be as dull as they were before, if not more so.

Still lost inside his head without any sense of how much time went by since he sat down, Ashton doesn't hear the front door closing, and doesn't notice that he's no longer the only person inside the house until someone sits next to him on the bench. Yet, he doesn't show any sign of acknowledgement to them.

A few minutes go by before either of them speaks up.

“Luke said you didn't go to see her yesterday,” Calum starts softly, not wanting to disturb the calmness of the morning.

Ashton takes a few seconds to respond, “No point in doing that.” The black haired man licks his lips while thinking carefully about his next words.

“You know staying inside this house all day by yourself won't help either,” Calum turns his head to his left and takes a good look at Ashton's uncharacteristically hunched over figure, and immediately thinks that anyone can tell this man is not himself anymore. His second thought is that Olivia would hate seeing him like this.

“And what exactly do you expect me to do? Move on with my life like nothing happened? Like I'm not slowly and painfully losing the love of my life? Just because it’s easy for you doesn't mean it's easy for me.”

Calum closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He knows Ashton doesn't mean it, it's the anger and frustration talking. He knows it. Doesn't make it sting any less.

“I'm not telling you to move on with your life, because that's far from what I'm doing, and I certainly don't expect you to do it. I'm just saying you need to occupy your mind or else–”

“I'll go insane? Think it's a bit too late for that,” Ashton interrupts with a bitter tone that doesn't belong to his usual chirpy voice.

“You know it's not,” Calum sighs and drinks the rest of his coffee, moving his body slightly, so he's facing the blonde man, “I got a job interview for you at that school you talked about so much last summer, the principal said you can go any day this week. I went ahead and sent her your resume as well as explained everything that she needs to know about Olivia, so you don't have to. You just gotta put on some decent clothes and show up.” he sees Ashton's face softening a little and takes it as a victory. A few beats go by and then, “Maybe take a shower too. That's gonna make you feel better.” Calum leans in closer to his friend's personal space and takes a sniff, causing Ashton to deflect from him slightly, but not to push him away – another small win.

“Definitely take a shower, you stink. When was the last time your hair saw shampoo?”

“Fuck off,” is Ashton's only reply to the younger man's inquest. But Calum can see a smile creeping up on the blonde's face, which brings out a smile of his own.

“I'll send you all the details later today,” he checks the hour on the watch on his wrist and gets up, “Just please, Ash, go. I can't lose you too.”

Calum gently lays a hand on Ashton's shoulder and squeezes a little. The man doesn't look up, but gives a curt nod to his friend, who's satisfied enough. Calum stops on the threshold of the garden glass doors to give some kisses to Stitch – who came to make Ashton company as soon as he finished his food –, and then he puts the coffee mug on the dishwater. And soon enough, he's on his way out of the door. But not before snatching a tangerine from the fridge.

Ashton is left by himself once again. As he hears the sound of the front door closing, he thinks that this might be his life from now on. Just him and Stitch, trying their hardest to make it through another miserable day without the love of their lives. While everyone else comes by just to make sure he's still breathing. Breathing, maybe, but alive?

Swallowing the tears, he looks up at the sky. It's a deep, beautiful mix of orange, pink and blue, but he knows that it won't last long and soon the rain will be pouring down. He thinks about how much Olivia loves the rain.

God, he needs to pull himself together. She would hate to see him like this. Maybe he should take Calum's offer after all, he really needs to occupy his mind.

Making a mental note to thank Calum later, and also to apologize for how rude he was to him this morning, Ashton slowly gets up from the bench to put his mug on the sink and makes his way to the living room, with the small dog loyally following his every step. He puts on some cartoon that for once doesn't remind him of her (she always lovingly made fun of him for still watching those) and cuddles with Stitch on the couch. He can take a shower later.

Not half an hour goes by, he falls asleep and has a good dream for a change. He dreams of the days he spent with Olivia in the Philippines last February, right before her first world tour started. Some of the most magical days of their lives – surrounded by delicious food, a whole new culture to learn about and the warmth of the sun. Infinite counted days full of love and passion, where they were the only people in the world.

Even his subconscious knows to hold on to that brief moment of happiness, because he might never live that again.

#anna writes #perhaps she does write after all #alright i'm gonna go hide somewhere now bye #ashton irwin fanfiction #ashton irwin fic #ashton 5sos #ashton irwin x oc #5sos fanfic #5sos fic #ashton irwin imagine #5 seconds of summer #5sos imagine #anna writes: rwylm

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satchels-and-socks · 4 years ago

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My sister part 1 : Hey I Got You I'm Real

Paring: Spemily platonic Emily and Spencer sibling type of ship.

Warnings: cussing, angst, fluff, mentions of a case, mentions of Scratch, typical Criminal Minds stuff, and I think that's about it.

Summary: after Emily was safe from Scratch all she wanted and all she needed was comfort from her friend her brother Spencer.

Spencer was setting alone in Morgan's old office it was shortly after they got done dealing with scratch.

Spencer was trying to relax and lose himself for awhile but still his mind kept thinking about what happened especially going back to earlier that night when Emily got away from scratch and was rescued.

The young agent got up peeked out the door to make sure Emily was still there she was but so was everyone else. He closed the door and sit back down bouncing his knee a little as he closed his eyes to let himself travel back.

It was a cool dark night you can smell a crisp clean smell in the air. Some would say it was a beautiful night if you wasn't chasing a psychopath or trying to rescue one of your best friends from said psychopath.

Spencer was pretty much alone with Emily the others were scrambling around them.

Spencer was getting ready to leave too when Emily stopped him.

"Spencer stay please, I need someone I know is real." Emily's voice was about ready to crack as tears bubbled up in her eyes as she wrapped Spencer up in a hug.

He hugged her back tightly and stayed there with her.

"Emily I got you I'm real and I won't leave until I know you're okay." Spencer whispered softly rubbing Emily's back soothingly.

They stood there talking and hugging for what seemed like hours. Neither one wanting to leave the other's side.

Spencer's eyes shot open quickly when he started to hear doors opening and closing.

Snapping out of his semi-tranquil state of mind, taking a few deep breaths, before getting up and peeking out of the door again.

Noticing Emily was still there and the only other person in the room was Garcia and she was getting ready to leave.

Patiently he waited what was only a few minutes seems like hours to Spencer just wanted to talk to Emily alone.

Desperately wanting to make sure she was okay to Spencer Emily was his older sister and he loved her.

Sure in his heart he always felt like this but tonight really brought his feelings to the surface.

Finally Penelope left leaving Emily alone. He quietly stepped out of Morgan's old office Emily had her back towards Spencer.

"Emiy can we please talk." He kept his voice as gentle as possible while elevating it slightly so Emily could hear him

Emily who was deep in thought jumped a little and let out a little bit of a scream her heart was racing, until she turned her head and realized it was only Spencer.

Spencer jumped a little when Emily screamed but he didn't leave. It was clear to him that she wasn't ok.

"Shit sorry Spence guess I'm still a little on edge." Emily admitted as she sit on one of desks behind her.

"No really Emily? I thought after dealing with someone like scratch you'd super focused and happy." Spencer teased snorted and punched Emily's arm lightly trying to get Emily to laugh like Derek would.

Emily couldn't help but snort and smile at the other's actions. She looked around the room nervously before bringing her attention back to Spencer.

"Are you trying to act like Morgan to get me to laugh?" Emily mused with a smile on her face.

"Maybe and I think it's working. Hey relax it's just us. So what's it going to be your place or mine? I'm not leaving you alone tonight or most of our six weeks off." The younger man sit on the desk next to Emily.

"Spence I guess my place if I can't talk you out of this I mean it's bigger and I have that extra little room that I've been meaning to turn into office. Why aren't you out enjoying your time off?" She tilted her head looking the man in front of her not taking her eyes off of him very long in fear that he might disappear.

"Emily, there's no place that I would rather be then here with you. You are my big sister and I love you." Spencer smiled softly looking at Emily.

"Spencer stop being mushy stop being you will you?" Emily pulled Spencer into a tight hug.

"I mean if I stopping being me who else would I be? Look you didn't give up on me when I was in prison I'm not leaving you when you need me I know that look you're afraid if you look away from me for too long I'll disappear." Spencer pulled out of the hug and started to rub Emily's back.

"I hate how well you know me Wonder boy." Emily mumbled playfully rolling her eyes.

"Come on Em you love how well I know you and I know it." Spencer was giving Emily a smug smile.

"Come on Spence let's get out of here I'll stop by your apartment so you can get some pajamas and stuff." Emily couldn't help but smile.

She missed spending time with him outside the job. But, she wondered if the others would understand if they ever found out what was going on with them two or would they just assume they were dating?

"Spence maybe this should stay Just between Us for right now. They might not understand and they might think that we're dating or something." Emily mumbled grabbing her bag.

"I don't care what they say besides I honestly think they would understand. Even if they didn't I would explain what was going on you're my sister as far as I'm concerned and I don't care who knows it now come on let's go we have movies to watch and chicken nuggets to eat." Spencer giggled a little as he got his bag getting ready to follow Emily out.

"I'm honestly glad to hear you say that you're okay with the others knowing. Because Garcia is coming over to my house tomorrow for dinner and if you're staying with me for the six weeks she's going to know you're there."Emily smiled opening up the door for Spencer as they both descended into the hallway.

"Oh uh that'll be fun and in about twelve hours later the whole team will know we're spending six weeks together."Spencer giggled as they got onto the elevator.

"Spence are you kidding me with the news involving us Penelope probably will be texting the whole team within the hour to tell everyone." Emily snorted as they walked out to Emily's car.

Their first night together was spent on the couch binge watching the original Star Trek series they made it halfway through season one before falling asleep Spencer was spread out on the couch Emily was spread out on the floor in front of the couch.

To be continued....

________________________________________

@transhotchner @emilysblackturtleneck @i-like-buttons @combeferre-the-mothman @drspencerreidshands @thejeidhater @hotchseyebrows @davidrossiismydad @hotchsbabygirl @ssa-hotchner-whipped @makaylajadewrites @moreidsdaughter

#criminal minds #criminal minds family #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds cbs #dr spencer reid #emily prentiss #wheels up #cm season 13 #cm fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction

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love101imagines · 4 years ago

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Way too much

request: could u pls write a imagine with Sinan,I was thinking about him and you being the best childhood friends, but they ended up getting away a lot, so some teacher spends a double job and chooses them to do it together, so they spend a lot of time together and discover that they still like each other

tag list: @zaynlikfalls @wwafangirld @girl-looking-out-window

If you asked Sinan if he had ever been happy he wouldn't answer. However, his mind would go back to the time when he was six and he used to spend every hour with his best friend, meeting you since you two lived in the same neighborhood and we’re the same age. You, the girl he used to play around on the park under his grandpa's care, the same one he used to watch cartoons with until you two fell asleep on his couch, and the one he used to play wrestle until one of you ended up with an accidental bloody nose or a broken tooth.

You were also each other's first kiss, the result of a dare when you two were nine and you wanted to know what it felt like after you watched a romantic movie.

Everything changed when you turned twelve when it was one of those nights your parents were out and you two would stay up late watching horror movies. With a blanket covering most of your face and eyes glued to the TV, you didn't notice how Sinan was looking at you.

When a jumpscare happened and you yelped, immediately grabbing his hand, he blushed slightly, finally realizing he was in love with you. And it terrified him. Even more than the old movie you were watching on the couch in your living room.

He felt his heart breaking when a few days later you arrived at his house on the verge of tears because your dad had received an offer for a better job in Ankara and you would be moving in some weeks. The only thing he could do was hug you, trying to calm you down as you continued crying into his shoulder.

That had to be one of the many disappointments he would face during his life, but he slowly got used to it, expecting people to always leave him, just like you did.

"You're staring." Eda pointed out, a smirk on her face as she leaned against the wall behind her. "Who are you looking at?"

Sinan gulped, back to reality before he looked away. "No one." He snapped in an annoyed tone.

Eda rolled her eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh as she went back to the drawing on the wall. He mentally cursed himself as he looked back at the group of girls standing nearby, no sign of the girl who had been his best friend for almost seven years. His mind had to be playing games on him, probably from drinking too many that day. There was no way you were at school, he must have seen someone similar.

He didn't have much time to think about it, focusing on the ticket Osman was handing to him for a concert.

"I'm off to the infirmary to sleep." He announced, already feeling a migraine he didn't have any intention of increasing.

Taking slow steps, he walked away from the group. The ticket was in his shirt's pocket, and he only had one thing in mind as he walked through the halls. To stop the feeling on the pit of his stomach after thinking about you in months and to sleep.

"Sinan!"

He didn't even get a chance to fully turn around before you crashed into him, standing on your tiptoes so you could wrap your arms around his neck. He didn't recognize you for a second, believing someone was about to punch him when he heard his name being called but he didn't even have time to flinch.

It was only a second though before his eyes widened and he wrapped his arms around your waist, finding comfort in the fact that nobody else was around and you two were the only ones standing next to the infirmary's door. Feeling you hug him again definitely was one of the best feelings in the world.

"(Y/N)?" He asked, chills running up his spine at the feeling of your skin against his.

You pulled away after a few seconds, even if you were sure the whole hug lasted for at least two minutes until he let you go. "The one and only." You teased.

You took a minute to get a good look at him, your hand still lingering on his shoulder. He looked...well, you didn't care about the bags under his eyes or the fact that his breath smelled of alcohol, the only thing that mattered was that you were with him again.

Sinan looked at you up and down too. Your hair was a bit shorter, not in your usual braids that you used to wear all the time. Your cheeks weren't as chubby as before and your legs weren't as skinny, and the small scar on your upper lip was faded almost completely, just like the one on the bridge of his nose.

But still, you were beautiful. That was undeniable.

You gave him a toothy grin, the same one you used to have all the time when you were kids. "It's so good to finally see you again. I missed you so much."

He nodded, a soft smile on his face as he looked at you, any thought about the migraine already gone. "When did you come back?"

As you started your rant about your father finding another job offer here in Istanbul and coming back a week ago, his mind couldn't help but drift off that you hadn't seen each other in years and many things had happened in between. His parents had abandoned him, he had turned into an alcoholic and he was about to be expelled. You, on the other hand, didn't know any of this, and he was sure you would look at him in disgust once you found out he wasn't the same twelve-year-old you had trusted with your whole life before.

He didn't even notice Osman calling him to meet when the rest until you tugged in his arm.

"What?" He asked emotionless turning to the taller boy.

Osman didn't seem to care, already used to his attitude. "Eda convinced Miss Burcu, we need to find a way to convince Coach Kemal."

Convincing Coach Kemal couldn't matter less to him, glancing at you because he wanted to take advantage of the fact that you still believed that he was the sweet boy who you had grew up with. It wouldn’t last for long, but he wanted to at least enjoy that time until you were disappointed.

You only gave him a reassuring smile. "Go on, I have to fix some things about my schedule but I'll see you later. We have a lot of catching up to do."

A bit less unsure than before, he nodded, giving you one last smile that lasted a second before he left, his heart pounding with so much force he didn't know how the rest couldn't feel it.

While Kerem was busy talking to their teacher, it didn't take much for him to run into you again, sharing your same classes. Even if most of the time he slept through Chemistry class without anyone bothering him, his brows furrowed as soon as he heard someone sitting next to him.

You only chuckled after waking the boy up, Sinan's face softening immediately. "Um, rough day?" You asked, not sure of what to say once you noticed the flask near his bag.

He shrugged, slowly leaving it inside his bag and taking out a notebook, trying to show that he cared about school even if he truly didn't anymore. Nevertheless, your bubbly attitude surely did something to him. It was like you two had never been separated before while the rest of your new classmates didn't understand why the new girl was hanging out with him, the depressed boy who mocked everyone.

It was to his luck that your teacher chose you two to work together on an assignment. Of course, you were happy, thinking you could make up for all the lost time and he allowed himself to feel happy too, even if he knew he'd fuck it up like he always did.

"So?" You started the next day as you two walked towards your home.

He raised a brow at you, his hands fumbling with the hem of his shirt. "So what?"

You rolled your eyes in a teasing way. "I want to know everything that happened since I left. My parents didn't tell me anything because they're busy with their new jobs and we haven't had time to talk. How are your parents?" You added, mindlessly looking at the colorful neighborhood you were walking past.

It was a loaded question and Sinan thought for a moment, waiting for you to find your keys in your bag. "They got divorced."

You almost dropped your keys in surprise, not knowing what to say like when you found him with his flask. "Oh." You mumbled, awkwardly opening the door for both of you. "I'm really sorry, I didn't know."

"It's fine." He brushed it off, not wanting things to change and be more awkward. "I've been living with my grandpa since I turned fourteen." He explained as he followed after you, taking off his shoes just like you were doing.

"How is he?" You asked with a smile, with a better mood knowing that the older man who used to take care of you two when you were younger was still alive.

"You know him, he doesn't die." He said, earning a slap to his arm.

You two ended up sitting on the floor of your room, a few books next to you, and a music cassette in the background. It felt like when you were seven, and he would trace out different pictures and you would giggle and try to bump his hand out of the way to color it in.

"What was Ankara like?" He asked as he turned the pages trying to look for something.

You continued highlighting a few phrases sitting in front of him. “Um, nice I think. I met a lot of people, went to a few parties, the school was pretty good.”

He glanced at you, absentmindedly doodling on his notebook. “Did you have fun in the city?” He asked sarcastically.

You punched his arm in a teasing way. “Yeah, but there wasn’t anyone like you.”

You only received a small smile before you sighed and moved over to sit next to him, knowing that he didn’t take notes and this was the most he had done in months.

“I have a question for you.” You told him.

“Go ahead.” He answered, still calm which was weird.

If someone else had asked him something personal he wouldn’t have answered or he would have given a sarcastic answer, but you were the one who was asking him. He could never snap at you.

You grinned at him. “How much did you miss me?”

He sighed, turning to look at you with a small sparkle on his eyes. “Way too much.”

It was in that moment with your smile that a small glimmer of hope built inside of him. It didn’t seem to bother you that he slept through most lessons, or that he showed up at school with messy hair and his tie undone, or that he always had his flask close to him. He hadn’t even taken a sip since you approached him that day so you two could go to your house.

“I tried to write to you.” He started, eyes directed to the floor so he didn’t have to meet your eyes. “My mum gave me your new address but...I always ended up crumpling them up and throwing them away.”

When you left, he used to write a letter every day, always trying to find the right words to express how much he missed you and to express his true feelings whenever he thought about you. It helped a bit to pour out all the feelings he didn’t know how to tell you in person, but out of fear of rejection or of ruining what was left of the two of you he never sent them, destroying them completely.

You furrowed your brows confused. “Why?”

A few seconds passed, your music being the only sound in the room.

You bit the inside of your cheek, fumbling with the hem of your skirt, knowing that things had changed between the two of you. “Sinan, it’s fine, I know that it’s been years since we...”

“Are you going to leave again?” He interrupted you, a hint of anger on his voice.

“What?” You blurted out.

“You left once, it wouldn’t surprise me if you did again.” He continued, a scowl on his face.

You crossed your arms, trying to act firm in front of him. “Are you serious? We were twelve, I didn’t have any choice and you know that.”

You stayed like that for a while, no trace of a smile on your face and a hard look on his until he gave up.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled. “It’s just, I...I don’t want to lose you again.” He admitted, vulnerability palpable on his voice.

You found yourself wrapping your arms around his shoulders again, hugging him for the second time in the same week. He didn’t seem to mind, his arms holding you by your waist and keeping you close to him.

“I won’t leave.” You added softly. “I promise.”

You tried to pull back to look at him, but it was to no avail, his grip on your waist tightening with each passing second. “Sinan.” You muttered, your hands finding his.

He was painfully aware of how close you are to him. It was like a deja vu from when you kissed for the first time, and with your eyes fixed on him, you didn’t even notice that one of his hands that was on your waist moved to the back of your neck until he was kissing you.

After you closed your eyes, you smiled against his lips. The kiss was slow, and you left your hands on his neck, bringing him closer. He didn’t pull away until you finally did for air, placing your forehead against his shoulder with your eyes closed, feeling your heart beat in your ears.

You weren’t seven anymore, you were now teens who could admit why you felt so comfortable around each other, or why one of the bests things of your day was to talk to him.

“About time.” You mumbled with a smirk, and he thought the same.

About fucking time.

#love 101 #love101 #burcu #eda #kerem #osman #sinan #ask 101 #aşk101imagine #sinanimagine #sinanxreader #aşk 101 #aşk 101 imagine #love101imagine #love 101 imagine

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pinkykitten · 4 years ago

Text

are you bored yet?

synopsis: with uncertainties in life you cant say for certain if you and fred being together is a good thing or bad thing. so many things are running through your mind as you spend watching the sunset with the love of your life, fred weasley.

pairing: fred weasley x female! reader (i swear im like obsessed w him i need therapy fr) words: 1,503 genre: fluff omg so much, romance, song based, writing challenge, one-shot

a/n: so this is based on the song are you bored yet by wallows. and this is for the writing challenge of @lunalovecroft. i had so much fun writing this and as u can tell im currently in a fred spiral and its out of control but idc tbh. he is so beautiful and yes he is invading my dreams every night. enjoy yall and hope u like also thnx for liking my recent fred drabble so much it means a lot to me and requests are open! ps i also tried to incorporate the words and meaning of the songs lyrics to the story hope that makes sense.

The ocean waves crashed against the soft, cool sand. It would simmer and relax, but then the pent up frustration mixed with wind would allow it to meet and kiss the earth.

The future always scared you. Somedays you looked forward to it and other days just the unknown was filled with anxiety. It was the feeling of not being able to control loss and love, happiness and sadness. You would find yourself some nights thinking about it, almost losing your mind.

The sun was setting so peacefully and beautifully. It was something so simple yet something so divine and of such importance. You had faith in the sun and space. Yes, everything around you may be changing and things might be going wrong but one thing was for certain was that the sun was going to rise and set every day, when the sun rises that will be your new chance at starting anew.

It was so peaceful. The smell of sea was so inviting and comforting. What was more comforting was how Fred let your head rest against his chest. The feeling of worn out cotton against your cheek, as you heard his heart beat almost at the same rhythm as yours. It was if you two were in perfect sync. The faint smell of cologne that Fred always used to try to impress you made you feel at home, along with a small smell of something unknown to you but only Fred had that smell. Maybe it was gingers own scent.

You sighed, relaxing.

“So, love, what do you think about the muggle world?” Fred asked, wiggling his brows like he was the man.

You looked up at his freckled face, from his chest, giggling, “You know I’ve been here before.”

Fred laid back down and enjoyed the moment with you. But something was eating you up inside. It was starting to bug you that everyone had a someone. Ron to Hermione. Harry to Ginny. You were starting to feel left behind in the crowd. Again with the uncertainty. Everyone was with their soulmate and you felt lonely.

You didn’t realize Fred was eyeing you this whole time you had this battle in your head. He could tell something was off. “What’s wrong?”

You very much disliked confrontation so you pretended to fall asleep.

“I saw you were awake Y/N,” Fred sat up. He was patiently, quietly waiting for your answer.

You sat up, kicking your feet against the peak you two were sitting on. The warmness from the sun making you smile just a bit. “I wish we didn’t have to leave. That we could sit here for the rest of our lives.”

Fred chuckled, scooting closer to you and resting his head against your shoulder. Something sparked within you at the contact. You could feel his breath on your neck, feeling the hair stand up on its own. You leaned your head against his and sighed once again.

“I wish I could sit here with you forever too sweetheart. But unfortunately we’re really not supposed to be here and I bet some muggles would find us and we’d be toast.” Fred kissed your knuckles.

You distanced yourself away from him, worrying Fred with wide eyes. You couldn’t bear the physical connection you two had and not have something from it. Yes, you and Fred were friends but you were wanting more than that. You yearned for more than that. “There is just so much on my mind,” you said quietly. You can tell you hurt Fred’s feelings but you needed to know what Fred was doing to you. Why did he kiss your hands? Why did he want to be with you daily? You needed support, something stable in your life.

“Feels like I've known you my whole life I can see right through your lies,” Fred was worried seeing you so distant.

He was right. He knew you in and out. He knew when you were okay and when you were not. You leaned back, “I like this guy and I’m afraid he doesn’t like me.”

“That’s bonkers! Who wouldn’t like you Y/N?” Fred tried not to grit his teeth at his jealousy. This man was so lucky.

“I’m afraid Fred. I don’t know if he’ll feel the same way and when we get older will he still feel the same way about me? There is so much to think about. What if something happens to him? I would fall apart, I would be living in fear and paranoia.” You clenched your fists.

“Wow, you do really love this man?”

You huffed as you looked into Fred’s eyes for a split second, hoping he would get the hint. “I do, I really do.”

Fred was silent. He was playing with his fingers. He usually had always something to say, seeing him like this was odd.

“If you could tell me how you're feeling,” you held Fred’s hand.

“I don't know where we're going But I'd like to be by your side,” Fred blurted out. You gasped as you took your hands away and held onto to your skirt, holding in your breath. “I can’t go on living knowing I didn’t at least try to stop you from being with that other guy. I know you love him Y/N but I love you. I can’t do this anymore. Kiss only your cheek when I want to kiss your lips so bad. I can’t make believe that every time you hold my hand I don’t feel a spark. Or when you come to my room every time you have a nightmare. When we cuddle, how I carry you on my back. I can’t make believe that those things don’t affect me. I can’t keep putting this wall between us and making believe we’re not something worth fighting for. Tell you the truth baby, I’m smitten with you. I’m so madly in love with you.”

Your lips trembled as tears fell down your cheeks. Fred couldn’t help himself and also found himself emotional, wiping his tears with his jumper sleeve. Nobody knew what to do. “Why are you crying love?” Fred whispered.

“Because the man that I was referring to and talking about was you Fred,” you said with tear soaked lips. The wind carried your tears away. “I love you Fred Weasley.”

You both were knew in this territory of love. Love that you would sacrifice everything and risk more. Love that was unconditional. It was awkward the air funnily.

“So are we more than friends then? Like boyfriend and girlfriend?” Fred was so shy. You both just confessed your loves for each other, nobody knew what to do. You both were just friends for so long.

“When we get old, will we regret this?” You asked, bashfully.

“I will never in my whole existence ever regret meeting you and being your love. No matter what tough trials come, I know I will always be by your side.”

“I will forever love you Fred. There is not one person on this world I love more than you. I’m so grateful I was sent to Hogwarts because you’re my favorite person.” You gave a small, genuine smile. “Maybe we'd get through this undefeated Holding on for so long.”

In one swift moment, Fred’s lips came crashing down against yours. It was with such passion and fire. Like Fred was preparing his whole life for this one spectacular moment. His lips moved against your and you couldn’t help but deepen the kiss by running your fingers through his orange locks and pushing him more towards you. You wanted everything he got.

Fred pushed you back and wrapped his warm hands on the back of your neck. Your hands fell to his collar and you clutched onto it with all your might. You felt you might explode. Fred went from your lips to smothering you in kisses all over your face. You heard his laugh and saw his toothy smile but it was better because his freckled covered cheeks were such a cute pink. He was blushing the whole time. Fred kissed your nose and you and him laughed together, simply in love. He leaned his head against you for one moment and leaned back in his spot on the cliff.

You were out of breath and stunned. Did that just happen? You were so happy it did. You sat there surprised by the amazing kiss, touching your lips and feeling them sting a little from the contact. It was incredible. The best sensation of your life.

Fred saw you the whole time, smirking. He coughed to get your attention and your eyes traveled up to see the most amazing view. He was leaning back, his lean neck resting back against his shoulders as his adams apple bobbed. But what got you choked up was his lips were plump and wet from your twos make out session. His skin was flawless with his freckles and his eyes were bright and light from the sunsetting. The sun’s rays hit his face just perfectly to make him look like a prince. Like he came down from heaven. You were so dumbfounded at how a man could look this beautiful and handsome.

Fred smirked as he bit his lip, winking, wanting to tease you, “I don’t know if you wanna get out of here or maybe go get a bite together as I’m your new boyfriend. I mean 'Cause we could stay at home and watch the sunset But I can't help from asking, Are you bored yet?"

a/n: ive been listening to this song on repeat and know its in my head and i just want to make an edit of fred for this song cuz he is so bf material. thnx for all the love and support stay safe guys and tysm.

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kayrogers · 4 years ago

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to all the girls i've loved before ][ p. parker

a tatbilb au

Paring(s): LJ!tom holland x PK!reader

Inspo: TATBILB cause Peter is a total soft boi and also I'm a slut for rom-coms

Word Count: 1500+

Warning(s): cursing and Peter being an awkward bean

Part: prologue | part 1 | part ??

A/N: andddd we back what’s popping y’all

You sat outside the Parker residence, well the apartment building he lived in, tapping your fingers against the steering wheel of your car. Butterflies filled your stomach as you made your game plan. You were definitely going to confront him that was for sure, but you weren’t sure how. Pull a usual [Y/n] and practically yell at the poor kid or try to be as calm as he usually was? The entire situation freaked you out. Especially how much you... actually liked the kiss?

Taking a large obnoxious breath, you stepped out of the Jeep and made your way into the building. The elevator ride up was filled with more nerves than you thought possible. Once reaching his floor, hoping your memory of his apartment was correct, you found his door.

You ringed your knuckles against the door, almost gasping when it opened immediately.

“[Y/n]?” Instead of finding the strange boy you expected, there stood May.

“Hi!” You have an awkward wave only to be pulled into a surprisingly strong embrace.

“Oh my gosh! Little [Y/n]! I haven’t seen you since you moved. Look at how pretty you got. And tall!” The brunette gushed and pulled away from you with a large smile.

You blushed at her compliments, bashfully shrugging as she quickly ushered you inside.

“What brings you here? Want me to make you a chocolate milk or something? I don’t have the farm-made you used to like, but I have Nesquik!” May excitedly babbled on while you took a look at the interior of the place you once knew like the back of your hand.

It felt a lot... emptier. Sure, Peter had lost his parents when he was young, but there was always May and Ben. Now there was just May. You remembered Ben’s funeral, how hard it must have been for Peter. He couldn’t look anyone in the eyes that day, he could barely even get through his eulogy. You wished that the two of you hadn’t grown so far apart that day so you could comfort him. But life had different plans.

“I uh actually need Peter, is he home?” She stopped rifling through her cabinets at your question.

“Oh? In that case he is at Gugino’s, down the block. Can I ask why? Sorry I’m just nosy and excited, you have to come back for dinner soon!” You paused at May’s question, knowing the truth would be way too embarrassing for Peter.

“We’re working on an independent chem project for extra credit. I didn't see him at all in school today, so I just want to get it started.” Double lie, good job [Y/n].

“Then I will stop holding you here! Have fun on your little study date!” May ushered you out of the apartment in the same frantic nature she possessed since you were little.

Though hearing the word ‘date’ made your eyes go wide.

“It’s not a-... date.” She closed the door before you could even finish your sentence.

Peter would definitely be hearing back about this.

You couldn’t dwell on May though, you had a mission. Confront Parker’s scrawny ass. The letter? One thing. Looked like he wrote it in the eighth grade, weird but whatever. Him jumping you in the middle of gym?? Totally different story.

Stubbornness took over and you didn’t even have the time to think about how soft his lips were and how chills went down your spine when his hand touched your waist. Nope none of it. Absolutely not.

The drive to Gugino’s was indeed just down the block and you are thankful to see Peter inside from your car window. As well as his bike barely locked into the bike stand out front. You shook your head, that shit was bound to get stolen.

Gugino’s was a small Italian diner which primarily focused on pizzas and deli sandwiches, the smell that greeted you on the inside was pure nostalgia. Though you didn’t have time to bask in old memories, you had questions which needed major answers.

You took it upon yourself to join the boy at his lone table, not so gracefully making yourself a seat with a “Sup Parker.”

He gasped while taking a sip of his soda, nearly making him choke. “O- oh! Hi [Y/n].” He meekly replied, and you could feel just how much he was already panicking.

Even when he looked like he wanted to run away from you he was cute. How did you never realize this? You shook your head to dispel the thought line before it could get any further. There was a time and place for deciding on how adorkable he is and it is not right now.

A waiter stopped by the table and patted Peter on the shoulder. He was an older Italian man, grays occupying what was left of his balding head. He had a warm face though.

“Oh.. and anything for your lady friend, Peter?” He smirked while Peter put his head in his hands.

“She’s not with-“

“I’ll take mozzarella sticks and do you have cherry coke?” You interrupted the boy with a smirk.

The man smiled, “coming right up, Sweetheart.”

The two of you sat in awkward silence for the next few seconds, yourself actually choosing to wait for him because you knew he would make it even more uncomfortable. Well, make himself uncomfortable, you felt fine.

“So... uh what brings you here?” You nearly giggle at his question, but pull yourself together to put on that nonchalant attitude he apparently doesn’t like about you.

“Who? Me? I’m just here for some fried cheese sticks. Though I guess while you’re around I’ll ask... what the hell was that today?? See normally when a girl rejects a guy over a love letter he wrote when he was 14, said guy takes the hint. No instead, you made out with me in front of the student body and ran away!” Peter’s face turns more and more pink as you ramble, and you hate how cute you find it.

“[Y/n] [Y/l/n]. I am not trying to date you, I’m so sorry about today.” He says and you two both pause when the waiter brings over your mozzarella sticks and soda.

“Okay well, here’s the thing. Your mouth is saying something... but your mouth was also saying something today? So forgive me if I’m a little confused.” You dunked a stick in marinara sauce with a cheeky grin.

He shook his head, “I only kissed you because I wanted to make someone else think I wasn’t in love with them.”

Well way to make a girl not feel special, Parker. Then again, at least it confirmed that he wasn’t obsessed with you. Still weird, though.

“Oh.. who?” Your confused frustration quickly disappeared, changing instead to a devious curiosity.

He shakes his head, lips pursing as if to say he wouldn’t be answering that question.

“You know... I could just tell the whole school that you wrote me-“

“Fine! It’s MJ. And you’re not the only one that got a letter okay, so get off your high horse.” This time you did actually giggle at his frustration, finding the boy to be very entertaining.

“Damn player. Isn’t she like one of your best friends, why don’t you just ask her out?” His jaw dropped and Peter rapidly shook his head.

“She was never supposed to read that letter! None of you were. I can’t- me and MJ are so close, I don’t want to scare her away by saying I’m in love with her. Though I guess I already crossed that bridge.” To be honest, you felt for the guy.

Sure the letter thing was a bit strange, but it was clearly something personal for him. Maybe a diary type medium, and it really seemed like he didn’t want anyone to read them. Even as a kid he had been that sweet, emotional type. Which was welcome in the small friend group the two of you used to occupy.

Flash was an ass. MJ was aloof, mysterious, and not even there half the time. Peter was quiet. You were wild. Ned was a dork. And Harry was somehow the playboy who always butted heads with you for the leadership position. Though that changed almost immediately after he transferred to his fancy rich boy school. And then you moved out to the nearby suburbs, with Flash as your boyfriend.

MJ and you felt out of touch too easily. And Peter and Ned became just a ‘hi’ in the hallway. Though, that was just the way time managed.

By the time he finished ranting, you had already finished your mozzarella sticks and soda.

“That’s rough, Parker. I’m sorry these got out, just from mine... seemed really personal. I’m sure you and MJ will be okay though.” You comforted him, placing a hand on his shoulder before standing up to take your trash out.

“Want me to give you a ride home? Least I can do after ambushing you.” You add and he has a small smile on his face before he nods.

The ride home is silent for the most part. Both of your minds are too occupied to speak. Yours fills with thoughts of the day after that kiss. All your friends mentioned how word got to Flash and just how pissed he got. You hoped he wouldn’t lash out on Peter, but part of you was happy that he was jealous. Not that he had any right to be considering he was the one that fucked it all up.

Then, it was as if you had been struck with a stroke of genius.

“What if we just let everyone think we’re dating?”

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

taglist(s):

tatgilb -

@radtwinkie @dolan-mendes @whormotional @pluckypete @princessleah129 @banjosanjo @astrobub @mktravelbuggie @iamaunicorn4704 @used-avocado

permanent -

@ultrunning @jesseswartzwelder

#peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #marvel imagine #tatbilb imagine #tatbilb au #spiderman homecoming #spiderman imagine

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robyndehood · 3 years ago

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My Son's Story (pt. 1)

DISCLAIMER: I Know it's a bit of a long read, but it's important. Please read. I promise it isn't boring. Thank you!

Hi Everyone,

Intro

This is my first real attempt at Tumblr. Please contact me if anything I post violates a rule or is not considered appropriate. Anything I post, I truly mean no harm nor offense to anyone. But I need to write daily again to regain my gift and share it with the world. I have been working on my version of the "great American novel" for years. As a child, I was well on my way to becoming a successful author, but people had other ideas for my career path - and to put it bluntly - my contribution to society. Writer's block set in and then what was second nature to me - creative writing, became a lost skill. Or maybe a distant memory. Writers know that half the struggle as an artist is the dilemma of our own aspiration towards perfection. But nothing is perfect. It is a social construct and the antithesis of true beauty.

The Ultimate Birthday Gift

So, that said, let's talk about my son. He's three - he's actually turning four in December. He was born on my birthday and has been the greatest gift that I have ever received. I won't pretend that he is perfect or even generally compliant with my directions. But he's loving. He's empathetic. He's brilliant. He's beautiful. And most of all, he is the sweetest person I have ever met.

I am going to go slightly off-topic for a bit; just to paint the full picture. I don't want to ramble and I am definitely a believer that a short and to the point message is almost always far superior to a long and complicated message. But bear with me because this snippet of the backstory is essential. And my son's story is important.

Appalachia

We live in Pittsburgh, part of the Appalachian Mountain Range. There is no other way to say it than the unadulterated, ugly truth of it - Pittsburgh is racist. Very racist. Beyond that, there is a general lack of common courtesy to outsiders, customers of businesses, other patrons in stores, etc. And the rudeness, is actually pretty much unrelated to the racism. It sounds strange and surely, minorities who are on the receiving end of it would certainly assume that racism was the reason why they said "excuse me," "thank you," etc. and about half the time are ignored like they're a ghost. But don't get it twisted - there are many times the aforementioned behaviors by many Pittsburghers IS induced by racism AND a lack of common courtesy and manners. You see, their deep-seated tribalism is indoctrinated into many Pittsburghers so completely from a young age that they know no different. It would be difficult for them to understand this article and I'd bet anyone ten bucks that if enough PIttsburghers read this post - they will attack my analysis of Pittsburghese culture as though the post itself is a blitz on the entire city.

Brown or White?

I am latin and there aren't many latins in Pittsburgh. But when we moved to Pittsburgh when I was in seventh grade, people knew my last name. Summer had just passed and I do get brown. I can get brown very quickly in the right type of sun and I get brown eventually in the sun that exists in cloudy and northern Pittsburgh. In seventh grade, some boys decided it would be funny to call me "estupido," and up until two years ago, I avoided sun exposure that would reveal my "brownness" like the plague.

Subversive, Subconscious, and Secret Racism

So, not long after I started that strategy, I was treated as white. (Side note: latins can be any race; but it seems that societal constructs are seeking to change this long accepted designation and categorize latins as some in between, brown race and not an ethnicity. To be honest, I am ok with that and now proud to be latin.)

The reality of being treated white in Pittsburgh for many years was that I learned what white people actually said when they were only with other whites. The most common thing that was said was one white person mumbling to other white people that someone was a "dumb n******" or a "dumb monkey." I've heard white adults refer to children who were black as "n***lets." But it was always this crocodile smiling through their teeth behavior. They'd never dare say it to a black person. Instead, they'd just indirectly discriminate against them.

I do have to mention that by no means do all Pittsburghers behave this way. It's just too many of them. I don't know the percentage, but if I had to guess I'd say - 50% plus.

Yes, Racism Happens All The Time Even if You Don't See it Happen

Many white people will tell you that racism is gone because they don't ever observe it and Obama was president - a black president. Therefore, everything is now over. I can admit that I have experienced my share of discrimination when my skin darkens. But I had no clue how bad it was for black people out here until my son became the recipient of the ugliness of it all. To me, racists are by definition ignorant cowards; so it makes sense they'd pick on a small boy whose only family is his mother.

Evil Always Starts Slowly

If one reviews history, every evil dictator or regime began slowly chipping away human rights. By the time the citizens realized the dire state of their country, it was too late. Their freedoms were already taken away and mechanisms to fight back had also been methodically erased.

When my son was born - a boy who is half African (his father (if you want to call him that since he is basically not involved) is from Ghana); no issues arose for the first two and a half years. But then the indirect discrimination started. The same rules that applied for white children didn't apply to him. I could give so many examples. But let's just say, as a rambunctious boy, if my son mimicked a white boy's same rambunctious behavior, we were confronted and the white family was not confronted.

One day I made an appointment for my son's hair to get cut at Philip Pelusi. They made the appointment knowing that he was only two and a half. The receptionist let me know that the stylist was a "Grade A Stylist," so I would have to pay more. I was fine with paying more; cool. After the appointment was made, I mentioned to the receptionist that my son was mixed race. We ended the call and I began to get my son ready to leave. Within ten minutes, the salon called back and informed me that they didn't/wouldn't cut my son's "type of hair." I promptly returned the call and explained his hair was curly, that's all. They blatantly lied and told me that the stylist doesn't cut ANY curly hair. Right. So, if a white lady came in with curly hair she would be turned away? I doubt it. Either way, the stylist is "Grade A." She is also licensed to cut hair by the state. Shouldn't a requirement for state licensing require one to know how to cut all "types of hair"?; I saved the recording, by the way, and still have it.

As months progressed, little by little wherever my son and I went in "white areas," we felt hostile vibes. Other incidents occurred that couldn't be proven as racial discrimination, but I knew. Whites behaved as though my son didn't deserve to be around them.

Southern Hospitality

We traveled down south a few times in the past year. Yes, some of the south is very racist still to this day. But not where we drove. Suddenly people responded when we said "excuse me," "thank you," etc. No white families prevented my son from playing with their children. No one told me my son was a nuisance or put out that vibe.

The Lesser of Two Evils?

But we had to come back each time because we live here and I've been working my way out of the projects that I have lived in for four years. Shootings. Open drug use and sales. The smell of crack in the hallways. Infestations in other apartments that come our way no matter what we try. People peeing on the hallway floors. Yes, seriously. Young children being encouraged to bully and beat up other kids. Children stealing or attempting to steal my son's toys because their mothers buy them none. Gamgmembers as young as twelve.

So, I concluded: "yes, we will move, but until then, we only sleep in our apartment and we do not play at the projects' playground." I figured IF I saved a certain number of money since I have a car that I saved for and bought last year, we would make it in our new, chosen city (Tampa or Jacksonville).

But then the racism against my son in the "white playgrounds" became worse. One day he was playing with a five year old boy at an indoor playground. The mother had no issue with it. The father of the boy arrived half an hour in, promptly scooped the boy away from my son, and told his son that he had told him he was not to "play with n*****s." My son couldn't understand why he could no longer play with his new friend and kept calling to him, "friends again!" while sobbing because he thought he had upset the boy. I had to leave with my son because of it.

Another time, a ten-year-old boy taunted my son on an outdoor playground and called him a "dumb monkey." My son first attempted to yell, "I NOT DUMB MONKEY," a few times; but the boy persisted and even smirked in my direction. My son ran to me and asked me to make the boy stop. No parent in sight and again, I just had to leave with my son.

Enough is Enough

Finally, last month or so, my son and I were at our usual laundromat doing laundry. We had finished. My son skipped a few steps in front of me and tried to open the glass door but couldn't push the bar to open it because of his height. He placed (yes, placed..lightly) his foot on the door to try to give it a bit more of a nudge. I was a few seconds behind him so just pushed the door open and we went to our car to load our clean laundry into it. In retrospect, I saw an older white male go next door to the beer store right after we walked out of the laundromar. The beer store employee approached us as I loaded my laundry into my car and then intended to leave.

The beer store employee told me he was getting "reports that kids were kicking glass." He said kids. Plural. And what he said made me envision a bunch of grade school kids kicking around broken glass on the sidewalk or parking lot. I responded calmly that "I have one kid and he's been with me the whole time. He wasn't involved." The beer store employee wanted drama to transpire. It was obvious. He said in a threatening manner: "Just so you know, I have cameras." My son and I exchanged glances because we were confused. What kids? Kids were kicking glass. Where? What glass?

Again though, I calmly responded that my son wasn't involved and he should check his cameras. He told me he was calling the cops. So I got my three-year-old son in his car seat and set a time limit of ten minutes to wait. We weren't running when he didn't do anything. The cops of course showed up about a minute later. It's ridiculous because in our projects (different police department than the laundromat police department), there have been shootings where children were outside playing when several clips were emptied into crowds and the police station is a block away. I know people called and it took an hour for them to arrive on scene.

Long story short, the laundromat cops knew it was a bullshit call. The supposed "kicking glass" was because my son placed his foot on the door to try to open it when we were LEAVING. The police eventually informed us that was the alleged "kicking of glass." There was no kicking that happened. The door wasn't even dirtier, let alone damaged because my son tried to use his foot to open the door. Lightly, by the way.

Even though the police were kind to my son, for the next week, my usual gregarious child was terrified to go anywhere. He eventually told me it was because "the cops will chase me and take me to jail because I bad guy now."

He's over it now. Mostly.

But we still have to pick between the craziness of playing at our aforementioned projects or going to a "white playground" and risking my son being rejected. It's usually a 50/50 shot that he will be rejected. If he gets rejected, he gets very upset.

Again, these are problems we never faced on our travels down the southern eastern seaboard. We didn't get treated like this at the destinations or on the journey by car to and from the destinations.

I knew we were living in an extremely racist and rude area, but one day I found this. It's a map delineating the results of a study conducted by Google and others regarding the level of racism in different parts of the country.

I already knew this much. But it's good to know I'm right that we are in the worst part of the U.S. for racism and the kindness we received traveling to those certain southern states was no illusion. And I did ask locals before I found this map if I was right that people are kinder to all colors in whichever given area.

Not the Worst Thing That Happened But the Last Straw

People talk a lot about Karens these days. This lady looked like she jumped right out of a Karen meme. My son was two feet away from her while we waited in line and she said as obnoxiously as possible: "Can you handle this? Please get him out of MY space." Yeah, I didn't let it go. At all. Her argument was that she said "please" so it's OK to make my son feel like a "this" and not a little boy. I held him while he sobbed. Long story short, I decided right then anywhere has to be better than this.

It isn't me just knowing people are being nasty to my son and I'm upset. He understands. He had an evaluation for something and he tested very well. He cried about each of these incidents. He just wants to make people smile and make friends.

So, next month we are going for it. I'm no where close to the aforementioned goal. I have some savings. We may end up in shelters at first after savings dry up in a few weeks. But we cannot survive up here. Nor can we advance here.

Side Note

I wrote this mostly to inform others of the status quo and reality of racism and the real effects it has on one tiny boy. And I know it will just get worse if we stay since it's this bad already.

But if you anyone knows of any resources to help us get on our feet in a month in Tampa or Jacksonville (Tampa is my first choice, but either one.) I have applied for housing, even though I didn't and don't want to go back to projects; but I'd take one down there over watching my son endure so much pain any day of the week.

Ok, so final part: I'm going to say upfront I feel extremely awkward with this paragraph because this isn't my way (years before my son was born I was homeless for a stint and never sat with a sign or a cup. Just couldn't do it), but for my son, I'm going to drop my cashtag here. Everyone is struggling and I know there are people with much worse problems. I appreciate anyone who has read this far and can help spread the reality of what I wrote about. That's the reason for the article; but if help is received at all because of it, we would be grateful but it's definitely a far second most important reason for the post. Here it goes, for my baby, in case it'll change his life and give us that better foot up, here it is: $RobyndeHood

#black love #blm #race and politics #kids #parenthood #parenting #latinboys #latin women #writers on tumblr #black lives matter #black stories #nonprofit #karens

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loreexploreposts · 6 years ago

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This one turned out SUPER long so I've been saving it for a special occation. I guess my birthdays good enough of an excuse.

“Empress!” The guard half kneeled, half fell on the stones. I waited for him to catch his breath before asking about the message. “Empress. The youth is approaching the city.” I set my book down. “How far away is he?” “No more than a day's ride my lady.” “That doesn't give us much time does it.” I turned to the guard. “Your name is Bhuzeir right?” “Yes your highness.” “Alright then Bhuzeir. I need you to evacuate all civilians, city and palace personnel before they get here. There's no telling how far the battle will range.” “Yes Empress.” I thought for a moment before calling after him. “And Bhuzeir, make certain that you get Perel out. He has a tendency to hide.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ This one was fast. There's usually a few hours after we get everyone out before the attackers arrive but it couldn't have been more than a half an hour. The wind was blowing the dust from the riders up over the rampart I was standing on. I waited until the youth had reached the open city bridge before going inside. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ He made quick time through the city. I didn't have to wait in the throne room long. He was young and small, not much older then Perel. A child. Of course he was. They always were. “So, boy.” My voice boomed, echoing across the vaulted hall. “You've come to challenge me.” This one was rather quiet. He didn't argue with me. Didn't plead for me to “see the light”. Didn't give his own speech. Just gave me a wordless grimace and raised his sword. I walked over to him with a lackadaisical stride. “Well I see you’re not too chatty. That's good. I don't like people who run their mouth.” We both stood ready. Sword tips nearly meeting. The tense moment before a fight. Energy sparking off both of us. Waiting, building like water behind a dam. Then an explosion. Attack. Parry. Riposte. Step forward. Parry. Lunge. Retreat. Bait. Beat. Block. A stray bolt of magic blasting a hole in the far wall. He was well trained. I was actually having to put effort into not being hit. Minutes passed and his demeanor changed. He was tiring and panicking. He had realized that there was no way I couldn't win. I began to gain ground. Driving him back toward the throne. He stumbled on the steps. Flailed his sword in one last attempt and struck me shoulder. And then... It was over. The spell broke. The energy was gone and had left the smell of blood, sweat, and singed clothes in its wake. I dropped my sword and lifted the boy up onto my throne. I waved a hand in front of his face, muttering the words to a spell under my breath. His eyes changed. It's not that they weren't focused, just focused on something in the distance, on what I was showing him. “What's your name?” “Peter.” His answer came back soft and quiet. “Peter. I had a brother named Peter. Tell me Peter what do you see?” “The world. This world.” “You're not from here are you Peter?” “No. But neither are you right?” I smiled sadly. “No I'm not...Have you enjoyed it here?” He seemed to think for a minute. “Yes I've loved it.” “Do you miss your home?” “Yes. But it would've been worth it to save this world.” “It's alright Peter. You did wonderfully. It wasn't your fault.” I strengthened the spell. He could no longer hear me, couldn't even tell he was in the throne room at all. This was always the worst. I took the knife off my belt. He didn't feel a thing. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I shifted the body in my arms to put my hand onto the stone wall. “Ostium invenire.” Glowing lines spread into the shape of an archway and I stepped through into the darkened room. The walls of the mausoleum seemed to loom, eagerly awaiting another occupant. I gently set him down in an empty space and laid his sword across his body. It was only after I re-entered the throne room that I saw how hurt I was. My clothes were soaked and stiffened with blood. The world began to swim before me. I shot two bolts of magic skyward before falling to the ground and blacking out. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I groaned and put a hand to my pounding temples as I sat up on the bed. “Good you're awake. I don't have to tell you how foolish it was to not call for assistance earlier then? That sword hit an artery.” The old apothecary shuffled over to me. I flopped back down. “I feel awful Goudis.” “Well you did almost bleed to death so I wouldn't expect you to be feeling too peachy. By the way Dhind has been pacing a hole in my rug for a few hours now. I'll let him know you're awake.” A moment later the door was nearly torn off its hinges as a towering mountain of a man ran in. “Sierra!” “Yes, Dhind I'm alright. No need to worry.” Dhind sat down beside me. I've always been impressed by the strength of any piece of furniture that can hold him. Goudis saw his chance to make a timely exit and took it. Dhind spoke as the door shut. “You almost died this time.” “Yes. I did. The Elders are at least having the foresight to prepare them a bit better now.” “Sierra, do you believe what you’re doing, what we're doing is right?” A long quiet. “No. No i don't.” His surprise was obvious. “Then all of this? All the iron rule, the warmongering, the dead children, this-this has all been for nothing?!” I sat on the edge of the bed and put my hand on his. “Dhind. I never said it was for nothing. I said it wasn't right. All that fighting I did. Becoming the Divine Hand. That was right. I freed people. I freed the land. I just didn't free them from the right person. Someday someone will come who can defeat me. They will kill me. But I know that if they can do that they can vanquish the Elders.” “Do you...How will this…” He sighed. “What about Perel?” I took time to plan my words before I spoke. “Perel has a moral compass like I have never seen before and the courage to stand up to anyone, even us if he believes they wish ill to a person. He will be just fine. Even with me working against him. We are the nebula. He is the protostar. He is going to take our rubble and build a kingdom to be proud of. He will outshine all of history.”

#Spooky #stories #short stories

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douchebagbrainwaves · 6 years ago

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FOR EXAMPLE, I'VE WRITTEN A FEW MACRO-DEFINING MACROS FULL OF NESTED BACKQUOTES THAT LOOK NOW LIKE LITTLE GEMS, BUT WRITING THEM TOOK HOURS OF THE UGLIEST TRIAL AND ERROR I CHOSE

Anyone who has used the web for more than a plan A. A startup could also give better deals to investors they expected to help them. And this idea will thus tend to get all the benefit of that type of thinking, while others are starved of it. I'm not complaining that we blur these two words together. In social settings, I found immediately that it was not technology but math, and math doesn't get stale. Everyone likes to believe that's what makes startups worth the trouble. Nowadays Valley VCs are more likely to get an A, but I could imagine little unmanned reconnaissance planes flying like birds in fifty years. That has been the company's main focus for 44% of its existence.

You can see the same program written in two languages, and one of which is Google. But in fact there are more than fifteen words with probabilities of.1 The students don't. Really, Google was funded with angel money. Raising an old-fashioned robber baron business world got incorporated into the startup world, startup founders get no respect. Something you publish ought to tell the reader something he didn't already know. Python does have a function data type, there is no record of it. But it's probably not that dangerous to start worrying too late.

I would rather cofound a startup with a friend than a stranger with higher output. And though constraining, Don't be evil. Over the past six months, I've read literally thousands of spams, and it will extract information they didn't even know they were recording. For example, in the unlikely absence of any other evidence, have a 99. 047225013 standardization 0. And practically all startups, even the darkest bits of the dark ages, people were discovering things that made everyone say why didn't anyone think of that. How was the place different from what? The most amusing thing written during this period, Liudprand of Cremona's Embassy to Constantinople, is, I suspect, mostly inadvertantly so. But VCs never offered that option.

Good design uses symmetry. When Lisp first appeared, these ideas were far removed from ordinary programming practice, which was discovered in 1960 and is still the fastest general-purpose sort. And the project starts small because the idea is small at first; he just has some cool hack he wants to try out. I regard making money as a boring errand to be got out of the same type used in desktop machines, are now more than fast enough for servers. The term dark ages is presently out of fashion as too judgemental the period wasn't dark; it was just different, but worse. White said, good writing is rewriting. The path it has discovered, winding as it is, it wouldn't be fun for most hackers. If college applicants realized how quick and impersonal most selection processes are, they'd make more effort to sell themselves, and take the outcome less personally. Would all good nonprofits be good companies? Even Google probably doesn't think that. It would be worth enduring a lot of subsidiary questions to be cleared up after the handshake, and if investors are skeptical, the startup funding business is finally getting some real competition. So ultimately we're aiming for the same reason Chicago investors are more conservative than Silicon Valley investors for the same destination, just approaching it from different directions.

If you're a hacker, the last time you had to be to dominate railroads or hotels or newspapers. For example, it would have advantages even if it didn't meander. Not because we're particularly benevolent, but because it's the only algorithm that works on that scale. The most important ingredient is formidable founders. I now have enough experience with startups to be able to explain in one or two sentences. There are two different ways people judge you. Suppose a Y Combinator company starts talking to VCs after demo day, and is successful in raising money from them, so they rewrote their software not to. But sure enough, I thought, they did call them essays, didn't they? But as the company grows older the question switches polarity. Not because making money is unimportant, but because the goal is to judge startup ideas, particularly their own.

Notes

The Baumol Effect induced by startups is that your peers are chosen for you?

Thanks to Ron Conway, Richard Jowsey, Michael Keenan, Sam Altman, Lisa Randall, Mike Arrington, Jackie McDonough, and Max Roser for smelling so good.

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existentialstatesofmind · 8 years ago

Conversation

Moving In

Clare: smirked at him. "Always nice to hear." She joked. "Mmmhmm." Clare kissed Drew chastely again. She raised her eyebrows when she heard the long list of rooms they still hadn't had sex in. "That is quite the list. I was just thinking of the living room, bathrooms, and maybe the kitchen. Is the basement furnished?" Clare asked curiously realizing she hadn't even seen the whole house yet. "And what is the attic like?" She reached her hand up to run her fingertips over Drew's smooth clean shaven face. "I don't know babe. I'm not that big on facial hair but you might look even sexier with a mustache and a beard. Who knows. I might allow you to skip shaving for awhile around the holidays. Oh, of course I will dress up as Mrs. Clause. But I'll only have gray hair if I don't dye it back brown. I suppose I can sacrifice my looks once a year." Clare pecked Drew's lips. "No babies. I promise. I'm still taking the pill. You do know I wouldn't be this calm if I thought you got me pregnant right?" She wanted Drew to make her something else before he made her a mom. Not to mention how this would be the worst possible time for them both career wise, and Clare did not need any extra stress. "I know but I don't like them thinking we're irresponsible." She took a deep breath and let it out. "Remember when I first told you about the break in and you did offer to help but I acted like a bitch and said I didn't need to be protected? Then we started to fall in love...and I don't know. I was still too stubborn and embarrassed to tell you the truth, Drew. Plus I didn't want to feel pressured to move in here before I was ready. All these months, I lay awake most nights when I'm not with you because I can't sleep. When I do I have these nightmares about the robbers coming back to rape and kill me. Or more and more often, I've been having terrible nightmares about them hurting you because you tried to keep me safe. Which makes it even harder for me to tell you this." Clare was looking at Drew the whole time she talked but she started shaking when she began to describe the dreams.

Drew: smiled at Clare. "I don't know what the attic is like, but someone asked me if she and her boyfriend can have sex in it so I doubt it's that bad. I obviously told them to go home and have sex there." he stated. "But the basement is furnished and is used as a game room. I have a TV down there, pool table, couch, video games, and a fridge. We can christen any room you want." he assured and kissed her again. A soft chuckle fell from his lips when Clare mentioned him not shaving when they're older and how he'd look with a beard and mustache. "I went a month without shaving. When I took a job to get my own place, my boss was American and told us the month of November in America is known as No Shave November and guys don't shave their facial hair. That at the end of the month if we didn't shave he'd donate $30 for charity per person. I didn't shave that month and one of my coworkers kept rubbing my face. By the end of November I had a beard and my boss took a picture of all of us. He hung it in his office, but I have a picture with the female coworker, her name is Allison and I only remember that because she has her name tag on in the photo." he chuckled the last part and kissed Clare again. "I'll have to show you that photo and I'd like if you'd sacrifice your looks for the holidays since I'll have to sacrifice my looks too." he smiled at her and chuckled a bit. "Honestly if you were pregnant, I'd like to think you wouldn't be so pissed you'd go on a killing spree so to speak. Like one minute you're Clare, the next you're a fire breathing dragon set out to rip everyone's head off." he shrugged and laced their fingers together. "I want to be married before I get you pregnant. I don't want to use protection on our honeymoon and I know we'll probably leave the hotel room." he smiled at her and nodded when she said she didn't want people to think they're irresponsible. "Tell them you're on birth control or that we're making sure we're safe?" he shrugged not really knowing how to help and listened to her confess about what she's been going through. "That explains why you sleep more when you're here, though I thought half of it was because of the sex..." he trailed off. "I would've got an alarm for you and you weren't a bitch. We had an agreement and were trying to keep distance, besides you would've been able to sleep in a guest room if you wanted. I wouldn't have minded and I would never pressure to move in here." he assured and kissed her chastely. "But I forgot to tell you this. I didn't cheat, but there was another girl in my bed about last weekend. I was so busy moving you in I forgot to tell you I was babysitting for someone. Anyway the baby and I ended up falling asleep in here. She fell asleep on my chest with my hand around her. Do you know that babies cry a lot? Like a whole lot. I didn't know that something so small could cry so much or smell so bad." he stated and pulled out his phone. "I just got the picture when I came home today and it reminded me that I still haven't told you." he said and pulled out his phone to show her the picture of him holding a two month old on his chest and both of them were sleeping covered up with a blanket. "Her mom took the picture while the dad took the bassinet to the car and gathered everything else. I'm pretty sure they were both very tired since they work nights. They have a normal babysitter, but their babysitter was unavailable for whatever reason." he added and looked at her. "I love you." he whispered softly.

#mi

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