#first time in my life not getting a card from my uncle too

[solomon-tozer]

.

[bweeeb]

HATED

Theodore Nott x reader ( Whispered as last name )

Enemies to lovers

Notes: When I wrote this, I didn't realize how dirty it was, I apologize for the shitty writing.

Summary: When the new girl causes Slytherin to lose the House Cup, Theo becomes much more interested in getting her attention—even after acting like a jerk. But maybe with Voldemort's return, it might be too late to make something last.

Warnings: Smut, Theodore being an asshole like every man on earth, reader being a proud slut.🤘❤️‍🔥

Being competitive was always one of Theodore Nott's characteristics that almost no one knew about, and as one of the smartest students in Slytherin, Theodore never had trouble keeping his competitiveness to himself. By the end of the third year, the vast majority of Slytherin's points were consistently earned by Theodore, leading Slytherin to take the top spot in the House Cup every year, until Y/n Whispered transferred from Ilvermorny at the beginning of the fourth year and secured the House Cup for Hufflepuff. Theodore couldn't help but feel intense hatred spread through him from head to toe upon seeing that the person who had taken his place was a new, blonde, five-foot-three Hufflepuff girl, which irritated him even more because the attraction he felt towards her was stronger than the instant hatred that surged in his chest. The first time he saw her celebrating with her peers at the end of the year, Theodore decided he would make Y/n's life much more complicated from the moment she looked at him from across the Great Hall, at the Slytherin table, and sent a gentle smile his way. Theodore didn't understand the reason behind her beautiful smile but interpreted it as mockery; he preferred to imagine that Y/n was mocking him rather than smiling amiably due to the stories she had heard about him, ultimately ending up liking a Muggle-born Hufflepuff.

In the fifth year, Y/n endured a series of provocations from Theodore until she reacted, turning it into a personal game that went beyond the House Cup. In the fifth year, Slytherin once again won the House Cup, and Theodore made sure to send a card to her room with the message 'What can you do if Muggle-borns only get lucky once in a lifetime, dolcezza,' and on the back of the card, probably the phrase that made Y/n cry with anger for the rest of the night, 'Maybe you should go cry to your parents, little baby.' The next day, Y/n put on her tough mask and threw the paper into Nott's plate at breakfast, saying loudly and clearly, 'My parents are dead, so if you tried to offend me, you failed with both the Muggle-born insult and the part about parents, Stupid Nott.' From that day on, Y/n began to hate Theo for being so stupid, and Theo began to observe Y/n more delicately, and partially the provocations decreased. However, with the decrease in provocations, Y/n's approval and visibility over him also decreased. Nott had to find another way to get her attention, even if it meant returning to taunting.

— You smell that? Oh wait, it's just Y/n walking into the hall.

Y/n heard Nott say loudly as she passed by him during breakfast.

— Must be coming from that mouth of yours that only spews garbage, Theodore.

The girl retorted as she walked past him without even looking at him and sat down at her table nearby.

— You should watch what you say to him, Y/n.

Y/n's friend, Violet, said, glancing quickly at the Slytherin table.

— It's just Nott, Vic. If he wants to hate me, I'll hate him back.

The girl shrugged, drawing Penny's gaze from across the table.

— No, Y/n. I heard they know who's back.

— What?

Y/n's eyes widened slightly, her body trembling. Her parents died in a suspicious and brutal manner while on a trip to the Ministry of Magic in London through dark magic, her uncles, born with pure blood, confirmed that probably some attacks on half-blood wizards are happening all of a result of among them

A week passed, and the news of Voldemort's return turned out to be true, making the seventh year more unsettling than ever. Gradually, half-blood students began disappearing, the common room grew emptier, classrooms quieter and less lively. Y/n had lost all focus on her studies. Dark days were casting a shadow over the wizarding world, and while all her classmates fled to safety with their families, she remained at Hogwarts, surrounded mostly by Slytherins who seemed unaffected.

On a rainy night, Y/n lingered longer than usual in the library, finishing her assignments. As she hurried back to her dorm, she noticed Draco Malfoy, Mattheo Riddle, and Theodore Nott standing casually against a wall, engaged in conversation. She lowered her head, bit her lip, and rolled her eyes, her heart racing. "Stupid, stop being silly, Y/n," she scolded herself silently, trying to slip by unnoticed. But Theodore, leaning against the wall and smoking a cigarette, chuckled and began to follow her. — No house to go back to, Y/n? Theodore's voice was mocking, prompting laughter from the three Slytherins echoing down the corridor. Theo couldn't help but wish Y/n would turn around, march over with that cute angry expression he secretly admired, and look him in the eye. — Your family didn't want you because you're a Mudblood?He taunted again, not bothering to face her.

— Fuck you, Theodore. Y/n muttered, stung by his words for the first time because deep down, she knew there was truth in them. Her pureblood uncles' allegiance to Voldemort left her with no safe haven at Hogwarts, just the hope of avoiding a grim fate. Without looking back, Whispered strode on, leaving Theodore to stew in his irritation at her avoidance. It had been over a month since she last met his gaze, and he hated how much he missed their confrontations.

— What did you say?

— What's this bablood still doing here?

Y/n heard Draco ask, his laughter joining Matteo's teasing remark: — Maybe the little lioness needs a cigarette to calm down. Meanwhile, she still heard Theodore's footsteps behind her.

— Hey, I'm talking to you, Mudblood. Theodore quickened his pace, grabbing her wrist, the first time their skin touched and it felt like she was burning against his.

— I said, FUCK YOU, NOTT, and don't fucking touch me. Y/n spun around so forcefully that her ponytail whipped across his face. In that instant, regret surged through her chest. Their eyes locked, and for a fleeting moment, she glimpsed a different side of him. — I'm sorry.

Her voice was barely a whisper as Y/n stumbled backwards, fleeing from the sight of the Slytherins as swiftly as the wind. She was scared, and Theodore saw it in her eyes, as clear as day. What Y/n didn't realize was that he was scared too.

In the days that passed, the school's security changed, which meant there was no security at all, not for her. This meant she felt safer inside her room than walking the corridors. Dumbledore was dead, teachers were as concerned as the remaining students at the school, and all this meant Y/n no longer appreciated meals, only eating when necessary. Theodore had noticed this minimal frequency, and the girl's tired appearance, who seemed not to sleep, began to worry him. He yelled at himself that he shouldn't be concerned.

One night, the Hufflepuff common room was completely deserted, doors wide open, and as Y/n repeated in her letters to her friends far away, there was no security at all. A strange noise from the other side of Whispered's room door made her rise from the bed where she was sitting and grip her wand tightly. When she was sure no one was there, she opened the door and looked at the plate of food on the floor, grabbed it, and placed it on her desk. She picked up the card beside it and read, 'I noticed you haven't been eating properly. It's important that you eat, bella.' Y/n stared at the plate for a few long minutes, afraid it might be poisoned, but when her stomach rumbled at the smell emanating from the food, her resistance was broken, and she quickly devoured the plate.

Over the next two weeks, similar things happened with several meals feeding Y/n when she didn't show up in the main hall. Over thirty cards accumulated in her drawer, and Y/n couldn't decipher all the Italian nicknames at the end of the notes, wondering who could be doing this.

Late one night, three days since Y/n had eaten anything, a knock on her door echoed, and without fear, Y/n opened it quickly, eager to see who was entering the Hufflepuff common room at such an hour. To her surprise, she saw Theodore Nott's figure quickly disappearing down the corridor.

— Hey! She shouted, running after him and grabbing his wrist just as he had done to her on several previous occasions. Her gaze fell upon him, looking unsure there.

— What are you doing? Y/n asked suspiciously.

— I can't be seen here — he murmured. Y/n stood still briefly until Nott pushed her back into the room.

— So what are you doing here? she asked again.

— You haven't been eating...

Theo said, pointing to the untouched food.

— That's not true. It was, but she didn't want to admit it to him.

— I know it is, dolcezza. Theo said, almost desperate, leaving Y/n confused.

— What are you still doing here, Y/n? Theodore asked, concerned, moving closer to Y/n, who for the first time didn't pull away from him in fear.

— I should be asking you what you were doing in my room. She said, ignoring his question. Theodore moved closer again, almost touching their noses.

— I'm serious, Y/n.

— I have nowhere else to go, Theodore. You were right, my family doesn't want me, so I'll stay. Is that okay with you? Y/n turned away from his gaze, walking away. — Thanks for the food, but you can go now.

— You have to leave. He whispered. Y/n shook her head, briefly glancing towards him without really meeting his eyes.

— Why are you worried?

— Because... because, I... He stuttered, unsure of what to say. — I... I want you to be okay, Y/n.

— Why? I'm a badblood,' as you all say, why does it matter? You never liked me, Theodore, I don't understand.

— Don't call yourself that way.

— Theodore.

The girl moaned and Theodore sighed worried.

— If they find you, they'll kill you. I...I...

— Theodore, you're not answering what I'm asking. Why are you worried?

— I don't know, Y/n. — Theo sat on the bed with his hands on his head and his arms on his knees, his eyes closed, and Y/n stood still in front of him. — I shouldn't, but I care about you.

— That doesn't make sense, you hate me, Theodore...

— No! I don't hate you. Theodore stood up quickly and approached her, almost touching their noses.

— But you always...

— I've always been an idiot because I wanted to get your attention. I wanted you to look at me. Theo said, closing his eyes and sighing in frustration.

— That makes no sense, Nott.

— No! It doesn't, but I don't know a better way to do it...

— Maybe act like a normal person?

— My mother would hate me for what I did to you and say I'm foolish. Theo muttered more to himself and ran his hands through his now longer hair.

— I think I've loved you since the first day you smiled at me, Bella. You have this thing, that pulls me to you. Theo whispered, and Y/n widened her eyes, expecting to find a prank.

— But you ran away...that's nonsense, how? Me and you, Theodore? What the hell are you talking about, my God. She laughed humorlessly and rushed away from the Italian's body, agitated. — Where's Matheo and Malfoy? Okay, YOU CAN COME IN NOW! I UNDERSTAND. She shouted at the door, desperate, and Theodore pulled her by the shoulders to look at him again.

— It's not a prank, Whispered. There's no one there, they know that, and it was them who told me to talk to you.

— You were about to run when I saw you, Theodore. She repeated. — I can't believe you could ever love a 'mudblood. She made air quotes with her fingers, and Theodore closed his eyes, groaning. — H-h-how could y-you love me, Theodore? She stuttered, feeling vulnerable, and suddenly Theodore's lips pressed against hers, the girl from her first day at Hogwarts was enchanted by Theo's beauty and intelligence, but when she realized he would never feel the same besides the eternal teasing resolved to slap her in chest of, now, doesn't

— Believe me, bella. Y/n nodded, getting lost in those deep blue eyes, and leaned in to kiss him once again, more harder. Their size difference didn't help at all, so Theo grabbed the girl's waist and set her on the desk in a way that she opened her legs to accommodate his body between them.

— The world is going to end, isn't it? — Y/n asked, placing kisses on Theodore's neck and fighting for the dominance he had previously taken, starting to distribute kisses along her neck.

— If no one stop this crazy wizard, yes, my princess. He said, giving wet kisses on Y/n's skin, making her moan and tilt her hips closer to his, seeking some friction against his pants.

— Fuck — she moaned once more, and Theodore found her lips again. His hand on her waist pulled her body closer to his, and Theodore groaned as he rubbed against the wet fabric of Y/n's panties with his hard erection.

— Shit, Y/n, you're so wet — He groaned this time, and Y/n nodded, clinging to him.

— Do you want to fuck me? Please do it, Teddy. She whimpered into Theodore's neck, who opened his mouth in ecstasy at the girl's words begging for him.

— Mia bellissima principessa, ti scoperò così bene. The Italian in Theo's voice made Y/n spread her legs wider in anticipation, seeking some friction against her clitoris.

— Please. — With that, Theo removed the girl's green lace panties, his provocative gaze falling on her form.

— Green panties? I think someone was longing for me. He said, biting the girl's shoulder, making her laugh.

— What can I do if... — Before she could finish her sentence, Theodore inserted two fingers inside her.

— So wet for me. — He groaned as he moved his fingers against her. — Such a good girl.

He repeated as she reached her peak, knowing she was close because he felt her tighten around his fingers. Just before she came, Theodore pulled his fingers out, provoking a frustrated moan from her, and removed his pants, revealing his erect cock with a red tip. Y/n's eyes shone in anticipation, and without him noticing, she got on her knees, grabbing his cock and pumping it before taking it into her mouth like a lollipop. After a few sucks, he pulled her back up, kissing her lips and smiling at her shiny lips. — I want to be inside you, principessa.

— Do it. — With that, Theodore spread her legs on the desk and plunged his cock into her.

— Damn, so tight. He moaned together with her as she smiled. Theo began to move at a fast pace, but not fast enough, making Y/n move her hips forward, trying to go faster. — So impatient. He said, then started to fuck her at a much quicker pace.

— Such a tight pussy for me. Theo moaned into her ear as the wet sounds filled the room.

— Fuck, Teddy, yes, uh-huh, fuck me like that. — She moaned loudly, and Theodore smiled with his neck buried in her neck, feeling her walls tighten around him.

— Are you going to cum for me, princess? Nott asked, and Y/n grunted, nodding. — Cum for me, baby. Cum on my cock, I know you want to.

As he said those words, Y/n reached her climax, moaning loudly and panting, smiling, still feeling Theodore's release above her as he continued to fuck her through her orgasm. Y/n leaned into his ear and did what he did to her.

— Cum inside me, Teddy. — She moaned, and Theodore opened his mouth, obsessed with this girl. — Cum inside my pussy. Please. Put your babies inside me. She said, and with that, Theodore pushed in several times with erratic but deep thrusts, spilling all his cum inside the girl who was now drenched.

— Why did i never admit what i want, fuck Y/n. Theo groaned and hugged Y/n's tired body, pulling her close.

— You're an idiot.

— Totally, come on, let's clean you up.

As days went by, Y/n and Theo's secret rendezvous became more frequent: stolen kisses, clandestine meetings in their room unnoticed by Professor Snape. Y/n brought calm to Theo, and he brought solace to her. Until today.

A chilling laugh echoed through the Slytherin common room, and Blaise burst in, his face grave.

— They're here... Death Eaters have arrived at Hogwarts, and that spells trouble for Y/n.

—They're looking for her, Theo. Blaise added, and Theodore pushed the girl behind him protectively. — You need to hide, Y/n.

— WHO'S GOING TO CATCH THAT LITTLE RAT WHO WAS RUNNING AROUND? Bellatrix's voice boomed from the stairs, and Blaise shook his head before departing.

— I'll try to stall them. Figure out your next move, Theodore. With that, he left the room.

— Theo... Y/n called to him, but his focus was on strategizing how to save her.

— Theodore Nott. They'll kill you if they find out I'm here. Y/n placed her hands on his shoulders as he hyperventilated.

— They'll kill you, Y/n.

— They know I'm here, Theo. They want me because of my family's history.

— I can't let them take you. Theo shook his head, pulling the blonde into a tight embrace.

— It's going to be okay. She murmured, looking into his eyes.

— Apparate with me to my room and take me as if you found me. It'll be suspicious if they find you up here. She said resolutely until Theo looked at her face, realizing too late how much he loved her, and apparated to the ruined Hufflepuff common room.

They walked to the dungeons, and before proceeding, Theo turned to her, kissing her, resting his forehead against hers, and sighed.

— I'm sorry for being foolish for so long.

— I love you, Theodore Nott. I spent six weeks with you and it was enough to know that you have a much bigger heart than everyone said, And I know I was right when I fell in love with you since the day I first saw you at fourteen years old. It's going to be okay.

Those were her last words before being handed over to the Death Eaters.

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Requests are open💞

[lunarlando]

thinking about girl dad!lando 💭

a/n: hello and welcome!!! first ln4 post of many to come hopefully. i have so many more thoughts about this, so if anyone wants to come chat or bring up some headcanons of their own, feel free to pop into my inbox :)

girl dad!lando who can hardly believe his ears when you tell him you're pregnant. he's at the height of his career, and having a baby would be a huge change. he's still young, of course, but when he thinks about who he wants to do life with for the rest of his years, the resounding answer is you. so finding out that in nine months time, you're both going to be bringing a child into the world—one that could quite possibly turn out anything like you—oh, he's over the moon. he doesn't even know if it'll be a girl or a boy yet, but either way, he's beyond excited.

girl dad!lando who hates missing appointments and checkups all the time due to the constrains of his job. he wants to be there with you every single time, but with training and races and all the traveling, it's just not in the cards. occasionally he'll be able to pop in via video chat or phone call, but most of the time you have to update him after all is said and done, and he hates it. he feels guilty that he can't be there for you as often as he wants to. you assure him time and time again that it's okay; as long as your baby is healthy, it's okay. he'll have all the time in the world to spend time with them once they're born.

girl dad!lando who becomes even more excited when you find out you're having a girl. it was one thing to think about this baby and wonder about all the possibilities. it's something entirely different actually knowing. he hopes with all his heart that she looks exactly her mother, and already knows she's got him wrapped around her finger. he does his research too—sends you countless articles from parenting blogs and tries to educate himself on how to be the best parent so his baby girl will thrive as she grows up.

girl dad!lando who absolutely refuses to miss the birth of his daughter. he doesn't care what race week it falls on, doesn't care how much shit he'll get into for missing it, on this he stands entirely firm. nothing will prevent lando from being right beside you the entire time. and when the day does come, it's the first time mclaren has to bring up a reserve driver for him. he's a whirlwind around the house when you tell him it's time to go the hospital, grabbing the baby bag you'd both pre-packed and sending off texts to everyone important, making sure everything is in order before helping you waddle to the car. and much to your annoyance, he's never driven so slowly through monaco as he does on the way there. you're surprised you don't have the baby right there in the car with the way he crawls through the streets at a snail's pace.

girl dad!lando who nearly cries when he first gets to hold his little girl in his arms. she's just so...tiny, compared to him. she latches onto him instantly, little hand curling tight around his finger like she knows he's her papa. in that moment, looking down at this precious thing cradled against his bare chest, he vows to never ever let anyone or anything hurt her, for as long as he lives. it's like his heart has made its way outside his chest and into his hands. he actually does cry when he looks over at you—the one who made all this possible. he knows for a fact he'll never love anyone or anything as much as he loves the two of you.

girl dad!lando who takes a month or so off to spend time with you and baby girl norris and settles into fatherhood surprisingly well. he's the definition of doting dad too, taking care of everything he can so you can rest as much as having a newborn will let you. he also does a massive amount of shopping, even though baby girl norris had already gotten everything a baby could ever need, even before she was born. they ranged from practical items like bottle warmers and value size packs of diapers (thanks to her uncles checo, hulk, and kmag, who knew what parents actually needed) to a copious amount of formula 1 team themed attire (redbull onesies from uncle max, ferrari bibs from uncle charles and uncle carlos, mclaren everything from uncle osc, you name it). stuffed toys, baby books, hats, bibs, even teeny tiny baby sized sunglasses—baby girl norris already has a fan club of aunties and uncles surrounding her.

girl dad!lando who can't sleep sometimes, so he just watches his baby girl sleep, just so he knows she's okay. and when she cries herself awake in the middle of the night, he's right there to soothe her, picking her up, holding her close to his chest, rocking her back and forth gently. he talks to her too—tells her stories about how her mama and papa met, how much you love each other and how much you love her. stories about his family and your own family, about his racing family, his best friends. everyone he loves already loves her too. one time you rouse from your sleep to find his side of the bed and her crib empty, and you almost panic before spotting a faint glow coming from the living room. upon further inspection, you find him doing laps around the sofa, gently pat pat patting her back to get her to sleep again. your heart breaks wide open at the sight of the two loves of your life bonding.

girl dad!lando who gets so nervous the first time you bring baby girl norris to a race. she's a little bit older at this point, old enough to take in all the sights and sounds of the bustling paddock, but still young enough to where she has no idea what's going on. he carries her on his hip, shielding her eyes and ears from the flashing cameras and loud noises, beelining right for mclaren hospitality as quick as he can so she can get settled before he gets too busy. he worries about her constantly—is it too hot or too cold out for her (you've got a cute little romper and a jacket in the baby bag if either is the case), will she get bored (give her a plastic spoon and she'll be entertained for hours), is it too loud for her (mclaren engineering fashioned a custom set of baby sized headphones just for this occasion). you have to be the one to stop him from pacing a hole in the floor and tell him he's got more pressing things to prepare for.

basically girl dad!lando who does his best to be the best dad he can be for his little girl, even though he might not be around as often as he'd like.

[storm-angel989]

Heyyy hope you are having a great day! Could I request a Valentino x daughter fic, where the reader had just arrived in hell and he helps her adjust? Thx

-🕯anon

HAPPY WEEKEND! The editing continues (in between adulting of course!)

Enjoy!

It was the smell she couldn’t get used to. 

The scent of rotting garbage that filled her nose every time she stepped out of the V tower- every time she stepped out from under her fathers direct protection. The clangs and clamors, yellings and beepings of car horns surrounded her. It was almost like being home…except, maybe a touch more dangerous. She turned to walk away from the red limo that sat, waiting for her. She had made it this far, after all. 

Her phone rang, adding to the noisy chaos that was the pride ring. Startled, she pulled it out of her pocket and scowled at the caller ID. Of course he knew the second she stepped out of the building. 

“Uncle Vox? What’s up?”

“You left the tower without telling us, everything okay?” Vox’s voice floated through the line. 

Reader rolled her eyes as she scanned the street. “I did tell you- this morning. I have an appointment to get my school uniform fitted, remember? Dad said I have to finish high school…there was a whole discussion…” 

“Your appointment is at noon. It's eleven and it takes ten minutes for the limo to get there. You’re too early.” 

On the other end of the line, she could hear what sounded like the ting of the elevator. Fuck. She was sure he was on his way down.

“Uncle Vox, I was going to walk to the shop. And maybe stop for a coffee on the way, I mapped my route with VoxQuest before I even walked out the door.” 

“You can’t just leave the tower whenever you please sweetheart, it’s dangerous out there. This is a much different world than you’re used to.” 

The dial tone buzzed in my ear and I turned around to see Vox walking towards me. I tried to hide my scowl. Three months. I had been in hell for three months and the lack of freedom felt like chains around me. On Earth I had the freedom to come and go throughout the world as I pleased. People feared me. No one messed with me. Partially because at the end of the day, I was a nobody- just another soul scraping my way to survive. But my arrival in hell shed light on exactly who I was- who my father was. And that made simply existing dangerous. 

My father passed when I was five. My mother before that- in childbirth, or so I was told. I didn’ have very many memories of him when he was alive- and even less so of his two best friends, Velvette and Vox. And none of my mother. All I knew of them is that when they died, they left me alone in Earth’s version of hell. 

I grew up fast, like most kids in my situation. So my early death wasn’t exactly a surprise. But what was a surprise was meeting my father within the first twenty four hours of my arrival in hell. Even more so to be thrust into a life of luxury- a stark contrast from fighting to survive. 

“Ah. Not to mention you don’t know any of the good places in town. Also does your father know you drink coffee? You’re a little young- not that I’m judging.” He continued as he tucked his arm around me. “Come along now, let me escort you if you insist on walking.”

There was a part of me that chafed at the supervision. I was almost a sophomore in high school, and I had been on my own for years. But another part of me, a bigger part of me, relaxed ever so slightly, the pounding fear in my heart, the wonder if I would survive another day melted with each passing week. 

The bell rang as we entered the coffee shop and I crossed my arms uneasily. As I studied the menu I scanned for the least expensive item. I hadn’t actually planned on buying anything. Even with the bright gold credit card I now carried in my wallet, it seemed like a waste of money- an unnecessary luxury- when the apartment never seemed to run out of coffee pods. It was more the warmth, brightness and safety of the shop that I craved. The memories of warming cold hands on hot water filled cups, scraping together pennies to save for an occasional teabag. 

“What looks good to you?” Vox asked. “Their blueberry coffee is killer.”

The uncomfortable feeling of embarrassment settled in my gut. He wouldn’t understand, even if I tried to explain it.

“Just uhm, a small black coffee,” I replied as I shifted my weight uneasily. 

He raised an eyebrow, “you take cream and sugar at home.”

“Yeah but that’s extra and I don’t want…”

He gave me an odd look but reached over and squeezed my shoulder comfortingly. “Why don’t you let me pick something for you? Go find us a spot to sit, your dad should be joining us in a few moments.”

Grateful to be free of the burden of ordering, of the anxiety I couldn’t kick that surrounded paying, I slid into a window seat and watched as the crowd passed by. A few moments later I heard the bell ring and looked up as the tall figure that was my father made his way into the room.

My memory of him alive was sparse, but in death, the man was larger than life. People moved when he walked, listened when he spoke and the fear they emitted around him was practically tangible. I watched as he scanned the room, and when his eyes met mine they practically lit up.

“Bebita, darling,” he cooed as he took the chair across from me, “Vox tells me you snuck out of the tower?”

I felt myself flush, “I’m sorry Dad I…”

“Forgot?” 

He reached across the table and took my hand in his. To my surprise he gave it a gentle squeeze.

“I understand, cariño. It must be tough, going from all the freedom in the world to being locked into a cage. Let’s try to be a bit better going forward, okay? Death in this world is far more permanent than on Earth.”

“Yes, Papi,” I muttered quietly as I looked down. 

“It must be strange to you,” he continued. “It was for me, when I first entered hell. For you, it’s an even bigger change. An overnight princessa.” 

I looked up at him to meet his gaze. 

“I looked up where you lived- or at least, where they claimed you lived. The rest of my intel says you ran the streets on Earth. And at such a young age,” he continued. “So to find yourself here- thrust into the lap of luxury and comfort, no longer fighting just to put food in your tummy, that lack of adrenaline rush must leave you feeling as though something is missing.” 

“I don’t know what to do,” I blurted out. “I have everything I ever dreamed of at my disposal. And I…and I don’t know what to do with it.”

Valentino studied me. A moment later, Vox joined the table and slid a steaming cup towards me. 

“This is what I’d like to suggest,” Valentino continued, taking the proffered cup from Vox’s hands. “And what I think will help you adjust the best. Help to ease you into this new life, since what we have been doing just doesn’t seem to be helping.”

The familiar panic settled over me. Was he kicking me out? Was my lack of obedience, lack of adjustment too much for him to deal with? 

“Hey, kiddo, take a breath,” Vox said quickly with a sharp look to Valentino. “There isn’t any reason to worry.” 

“Not at all,” Valentino said with another squeeze to my hand, “I was going to suggest that when we get you fitted for your school uniform, we review the list of clubs and sports that you can partake in. I think getting you involved in something, and establishing a day to day routine will help you adjust.”

“We all have one,” Vox added as he took a sip from his mug. “A routine, I mean. And we well know those survival instincts don’t just go away overnight. Finding an alternate way to access that adrenaline will help you settle in.”

I considered as I took a sip of my coffee. Sweetness exploded on my tongue- sugar and chocolate and cream, all combined into one. It was a heavenly treat, and I almost couldn’t believe it was real. That this was real. I looked out the window for a moment.

“Bebita? Tell us, what is on your mind?” Valentino asked as he studied me, “Please. Speak.”

“I’d like to do something to help. Not everyone who ends up in hell ends up in the life I now can lead…right? There must be some way to give back, to help those who used to be in my..situation.” I said finally. 

Vox and Valentino exchanged looks. Slowly, Vox nodded.

“We can look into that, sweetheart. That could be something we do…together, if you wish?” Valentino said slowly. “It isn’t something we…I…feel comfortable letting you go out and do by yourself.”

“We could even make it a family thing,” Vox added helpfully, “get Velvette involved.”

I could feel myself start to perk up. The more hands that helped, the better, right?

“Yeah, I would appreciate that. Thanks, Dad.”

I saw him smile and I took another drink from my cup, letting the warmth spread through me. 

“We’ll get you settled in, sweetheart,” Valentino told me, “I promise.”

[augustjustice]

Sharing Smokes Outside the Snow Ball

AO3 Link

It's the Winter of 1999, and Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson are standing outside the Hawkins Middle School Snow Ball, sharing a smoke.

Eddie can't believe he's back here, the whole thing feeling nearly as surreal as that nightmare, wayward Spring Break over ten years ago. He'd barely made it out of that hell hole alive, Steve himself practically having to hold Eddie together as they made their way from Forest Hill to Hawkins Memorial Hospital.

Spring had turned into summer, sweltering and oppressive as Eddie slowly, painfully healed.

There had been bright spots, though. Watching Lucas and Erica squabble during the one-shot campaign he had cooked up just for the party that June. Evenings out beside the Harrington's temperature controlled pool, beer bottle sweating in his hand as he traded a joint back and forth between Argyle and Jonathan, the sound of Robin's cackle loud and bright as she managed to hipcheck Steve into the pool. Steve's own blinding smile--a longtime feature of Eddie's secret high school fantasies--being turned on him the first time he made it from the front doors of the physical therapy clinic to the passenger side of his BMW, without needing any help at all.

But then summer had ended, and Eddie, finally back together again like a character out of a children's nursery rhyme, had packed up his van and headed straight to Chicago, not looking back.

Sure, there'd been post cards sent, phone calls to Dustin and the other Hellfire brats, promises to see everyone soon. Promises that Eddie couldn't keep, even if he wanted to.

Not when he didn't dare set foot in Hawkins, not ever again.

Then, over a decade into his second life as a struggling guitarist by night, record shop employee by day, his cousin Brooke had landed on his doorstep, looking too tired and too young all at once, a bruise around her eye. Behind her, her eleven year old son was studying the apartment hall's tiling.

"I left him." Eddie didn't need an explanation for that one. Her good-for-nothing husband, Nash. "Jake won't be any trouble, he just...needs a place to stay, while I get back on my feet. Somewhere his daddy can't find him. Just for a little while."

Eddie thought of his Mama. And then he called Wayne.

"Shit, Uncle Wayne, I--don't know what to do."

"Come on home now, boy," Wayne said, easy as anything, like Eddie had left only yesterday. "Come on back home."

So Eddie had.

That had been six months ago. And now he was standing in the aforementioned middle school parking lot with Steve 'the Hair' Harrington, while their kids--and wasn't that just a fucking head trip and a half--danced the night away.

"I keep half expecting Click to round the corner screaming my name," Eddie admits as he gives Steve a light. "Remember junior year, I sold to you in the alley behind the gym? Old bat nearly got me that time."

"Remember? I literally had to shove that joint down the front of my shorts, dude," Steve admits, which draws a snort out of Eddie to match his own chuckle. "Most of the guys on the basketball team couldn't move half as fast as you did that day. You practically vanished into the woods before she even made it to the stadium. Totally shoulda gone out for the track team, Eds."

Eddie clutches his chest, as though he's been shot. "Don't speak such blasphemy to me, Harrington."

"Yeah, well, you can quit worrying. Pretty sure she finally retired," Steve tells him, taking a long drag before he's passing the cigarette back to Eddie, even that brief touch enough to send sparks of electricity up Eddie's arm. Then he shoots Eddie that charming, infamous Harrington smile, boyish and cocky, the one that says he's used to getting exactly what he wants. "Even if she's not, I'm head of the PTA. If Higgins tries anything, I'll just threaten not to bring cupcakes to the next bake sale."

"Harrington, my hero," Eddie fakes a swoon, collapsing for a brief second against Steve's shoulder, an excuse to get close.

The theatrics get no rise out of Steve beyond an amused smirk. Even after all these years, he's still used to Eddie's antics, it seems.

"You know, it was total déjà vu," he nods to the middle school gymnasium, all decked out in blue and white, "dropping Sam off here."

Though he's actually gotten to know the Harrington offspring in person since he's been back, Eddie had received the rundown from Dustin and the others on Steve's journey to dadhood in their scattered calls over the years.

The December after Eddie had left, Steve had met a girl, taken her out on a few dates, and accidentally gotten her pregnant.

With Samantha, a name Dustin had proudly persuaded Steve into as the little girl's godfather. Every bit as adorable, now that Eddie had seen her, as the gushing picture the party had painted for him, all big blue eyes and wavy chestnut hair just like her father's.

Steve had gotten down on one knee long before she was born, determined to tie the knot and do right by her mother nearly as soon as he'd heard the news.

The pair had been divorced not even two years later.

"I don't think they were ever really in love," Dustin had informed Eddie one sunny afternoon impromptu of nothing, as always blunt in his honesty. "But you know what Steve is like. He's a hopeless romantic."

Eddie didn't, not exactly. But he's gotten enough glimpses, both back in '86 and much more recently, that he's starting to put the picture together.

Steve draws Eddie out of that particular reverie with another bright laugh. And then he's recounting the memory of Dustin's hair, done up in the infamous Harrington 'do, as Steve pulled up in front of the '84 Snow Ball playing chaperone in his trusty Beemer, long since traded in for the much more affordable sedan he's driving now.

"I demand photographic evidence, Harrington," Eddie insists, smile crooked, that distracting dimple appearing in his right cheek, "you can't conjure up an image like that and then not fork over the goods."

"Hey, man, talk to Dustin. Mrs. Henderson took like...a million pictures that night," Steve laughs.

But he's already mentally going through the album tucked away on a bookcase back at home, positive he's got his own photo to show for it. It'll make for a nice excuse to invite Eddie over for dinner one night.

The subject turns then to their own checkered experiences with school dances.

"Class of '85, baby! That's when they made your 'King Steve' title official," Eddie crows, teasing as he taps Steve once on the nose.

Steve goes a bit cross-eyed, following the movement of his finger.

"Yeah, well, talk about a total let-down of a night. I didn't even bring a date," Steve admits, tone blasé. The truth is, his entire senior year had been something of a disappointed trudge towards graduation, a walk he had taken mostly alone. There had been bright spots--the little band of miscreants he'd fallen into babysitting, for one--but they had all been far outside the walls of Hawkins High. "I'm guessing you weren't around for that? Not really your scene, especially with the Munson Doctrine's strict rules about 'forced conforming.'"

He puts Eddie's words in deliberate air quotes, his turn to give him a teasing smile.

"You're wrong about that one, big boy. I saw them, adorning your glorious locks with the crown." That mischievous smile is back. "We're not that old, dude, don't tell me you already forgot the whole 'prom streaking' incident?"

Eddie shoots him a loaded, deliberate look.

"Wait a minute, wait a minute." Shaking his head with a laugh, Steve waves his arms in front of him, like he's calling a time out. "You've gotta be fucking kidding me. That was you?"

"The one and only. What can I say, Jeff and Gareth dared me. Besides, by that point," Eddie shrugs casually, "I already knew I didn't have a shot at graduating anyway, so. Thought I'd close out the year with a bang."

"You've seriously never considered doing anything halfway in your life, have you, Munson?" Steve asks, giving Eddie's shoulder an almost exasperated nudge, smile fond in spite of himself.

"Absolutely not, Stevie boy. Life's too short. Where's the fun in playing it safe?"

Eddie swings into Steve's space, then, dark eyes sparkling. Goading and flirtatious. Just like when they were teenagers, thrown together in the worst of circumstances but making the best of it, before time and pain and trauma put all that distance between them.

And if Steve's eyes drop down to Eddie's lips as they share air, slow enough it can't be anything but deliberate, and their fingers brush just a tad too intimately the next time they trade the cigarette back and forth...well. They've got a lot of lost time--and shared smokes in school parking lots--to make up for.

[bokettochild]

Thank to rub salt in the wounds, Twi.

Not only your timeline was perfectly FINE, not only the hero before you isn't DEAD but he left you a sword in a perfect condition.

Twilight didn't have to fight, as a child, to survive in a cruel world. The hero before him did'n't fail, he didn't leave the sword in a horrible condition.

I wonder if Legend has guessed that the hero before Twi was Time, seen Twi's smile. (it's kinda obvious seen how close they are)

Did he guessed that Time was the hero before him too? And he chooses to stay silence to not hurt anyone? Time has never been the hero of time in his timeline after all and is probably died as a child.

But outch Legend's face....it's a mix between "Yep you are a lucky boy" and "if only you knew about the hero before me or maybe "thank to remember me how much a tragic mess my timeline is"

Because Legend is too nice and patient to say "how nice for you, the hero before me died against Ganon, his sword was in a horrible condition with still his blood on her, so much that i have had to reforge her myself! As a CHILD."

No Legend is too nice to take his bitterness on Twilight who did nothing wrong and didn't know. He'll shallow it and says nothing about the sword's condition in his timeline.

I think that's a big part of who Legend is actually! He comes off as really bitter and cold, at least as far as Twilight is concerned, and I wish there was more focus on that interplay.

Twilight met Legend and, based off of a few limited interactions, mentally labeled him as a bully and a jerk and thus treats him accordingly. Not without reason of course, he's drawing mental parallels to actual bullies and Legend is unintentionally checking the boxes, but I think it's sort of sad that until this point, Twilight has still not bothered to get to know Legend at all beyond his initial observations .

But the fact remains that Legend IS from a world that was in shambles, a world where everyone is a threat, if not to everyone else than at least to him. Legend is a prey animal trapped amongst predators with little to no guidance. The cards of fate are stacked against him as far as his world is concerned, and while the goddesses may have granted him additional blessings and favor to make up for that, his world is still magically a mess, physically a mess, and just generally a mess.

The vet has no legacy of proud heroes to look back on. The First Hero died. The Hero of the Four Sword is a raging lunatic who tries to murder children and is sealed beneath the castle. The Hero of Time died in combat. This is the legacy he gets to follow in. Legend doesn't have the hope of becoming like those before, he has the fear of meeting a similar fate because life is never kind to heroes.

Legend's world was left in shambles, and he's had to be the one to help rebuild it, only to watch it get torn down again and again as enemies undo all his hard work. But on a more personal note, Legend has tried again and again to establish himself in the world just to have all the people he loves hurt or harmed on his account.

His Uncle died, and even though he was brought back, he disappears from the timeline shortly after, leaving a kid hero alone in the world. Legend's grandparents have high expectations and aren't the best at listening when he says that their wishes make him unhappy or uncomfortable, and instead push him to follow them anyway, only to themselves disappear from his life once the Oracle adventures are over. Din, Ralph, Raven, Nayru, Moosh, Ricky, Dmitri, all these are people Ledge befriended and was close to and had to say goodbye to again for one reason or another.

Marin.

Legend is always losing the people he loves most, watching his work get thrown in his face and receiving little to no thanks for his work. He's still actively treated like a nuisance and a threat by some people in his kingdom and no doubt there are others who simply don't believe him.

The whole world is against him, and yet the only thing it's done is made him defensive. Ledge isn't cold or cruel, you can see that he actively cares for and worries about the other heroes, he's just guarded more than they are about it. Still, in times of high emotion the walls fall and he's his true self: that kid who's got a heart too big for his own good and is going to get it broken again.

And Legend knows this. Legend actively knows that Twilight isn't fond of him, and that the other heroes regard him as an ass, but rather than correct them, stand up for himself, provide even one of the thousands of reasons he has to guard and defend his heart like he does, he just lets them have their peace because what good would it do to tell them about the losses he's suffered? The world he grew up in? The legacy he has to bear? The terrible fate he no doubt expects to one day meet? What good would it do to make them love him if that will just make their inevitable parting all the harder?

It's hard to lose those you love, but it's easier if you convince yourself they never actually loved you, so you're better off.

So yeah, Twilight is over here unintentionally rubbing salt in the vet's many wounds, but Legend keeps his mouth shut because it does no good to speak up, and in the long run, at least as far as he thinks, it's better to let it be.

I kinda hope Twilight will come to understand the vet better though, and maybe get a peek at what has hardened up the younger hero enough that he comes across the way he does. I'm pretty sure his whole outlook would change if he did, and his respect for the vet would definitely increase.

[jessicaslittlelovesickmess]

Once upon a dream

Warning: mentions of pregnancy, mentions of cheating, mention of death, hurt comfort

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Fem!reader, Tess Servopoulos x Fem!reader, Tess Servopoulos x Joel Miller

The only thing Emily ever wished for was a family, to be the mother she never had to two sons and a beautiful daughter always three children specifically.

Emily always had dreams of becoming a mother one day but it was never in her stack of cards so she shortly gave up the idea. Her dreams would always be just dreams not until she met Y/n, she was everything Emily had ever dreamed of in a spouse.

Only Y/n wasn’t hers

They had met at a local cafe after Emily had accidentally bumped right into her forgetting her coffee as she left in embarrassment. Y/n went straight after her with the drinks in hand never guessing she would end up at her brother’s workplace the bau.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?” Hotch asked confused Emily froze before turning around to face the woman. “You know each other?” She asked so unlike herself Penelope would’ve laughed Derek too “Aaron’s my older brother, you forgot your coffee” Y/n smiled.

Fast forward six years later

Emily going from blind date to hookup after hookup to get her mind off the now married woman who she still imagined a life with. Two sons and a beautiful daughter she told herself or even just one child would suffice maybe a cat if children wasn’t an option. She loved Y/n so violently it made her sick and everyone could see from a mile away- everyone besides Y/n although she loved Emily just as fiercely.

When Emily had “died” the other woman was inconsolable it damaged Aaron knowing he had a hand in this by not telling his sister the truth. Instead watching as the woman got married quickly to the first person who showed her simple kindness and their marriage seemed was almost out of convenience. Having met the woman while away trying to escape the life she once knew in Virginia moving to Boston and back again.

Y/n Hotchner became Y/n Servopoulos

Aaron couldn’t watch as his sister saw Emily for the first time once more after apparently being dead, how her hands trembled and eyes watered. The echo of her heels as she quickly left, Emily broke down that day one thing was certain nothing would ever be the same.

Y/n soon revealed she was pregnant with a little boy that shattered Emily’s entire world but she was happy for the woman. Though she couldn’t help but laugh when the baby was born looking just like his Uncle, to Emily Y/n was glowing and Tess well she was there.

Her son was named after an old friend Alex.

Theresa and Emily never got along always classed as competition in the other’s eye but they remained civil around Y/n never wanting to upset her. When Y/n was pregnant a second time Tess was around a whole less always giving Emily a chance to be by the pregnant woman’s side.

It was tough at first trying to win over the woman but Emily had her ways she would beg for Y/n’s forgiveness

A second boy named after his Uncle Aaron, Benjamin

Emily stood beside the woman until Ben turned two, Y/n and Tess were getting a divorce so Emily had the boys whenever she could. Tess had met someone while she was working away from home, some man named Joel from Texas. Joel Miller the same man who did the renovations on their holiday home who even had a daughter of his own.

It wouldn’t be until another year when a move would be made there was a routine the children had made that included Emily. You both would cook dinner- well you would cook and after spending time together you both would get the boys ready for bed and tuck them in. This night however as Ben snuggled into his pillow his little hand reached for Emily’s “stay mama” he yawned as the woman went to stand.

Tears spread on her waterline as she gazed down at him “of course my sweet boy” she smiled and once the kids were asleep you both retreated to the living room. Cuddling on the sofa watching some shitty reality tv show you gazed up at Emily “thank you” was whispered against her jaw. “What for?” She glanced down at you “for everything, for staying” soon enough your lips had met before you were on top straddling her.

Dreams slowly stopped being dreams another two years later when you and Emily had gotten married with just the team a few friends and your two sons as guests. Emily was over the moon to have a family to call her own, to have a reason to go home just knowing she was needed filled her with pride. Emily had gotten a taste of motherhood and she wanted more as you both laid bed post bliss she brought it up she wanted another child.

Two sons and a beautiful daughter

Her dreams were now reality as you welcomed Olivia into the world, Olivia Benson the Senior having to be the one to drive you to the hospital while Emily was away. She held your hand until your wife burst through the doors with the team behind her, you would birth a daughter who was the perfect mix of you both.

A little girl with Emily’s nose and eyes while she had your hair and mouth, Emily couldn’t help but pepper your face in kisses. “You did so well baby, I’m so proud of you” it made her think if she would ever be in this position if she hadn’t bumped into you that day.

Yes you were the bosses little sister but you had lead a similar life in a different town what if ran through her mind until she felt your cold hand on her cheek. She smiled brightly down at you as she leaned down to kiss you softly ignoring everyone in the room “thank you” she whispered.

“What for?” You chuckled tiredly with a dopey grin “our family” Emily held onto your free hand “I love you Y/n Prentiss” ignoring Hotch rolling his eyes fondly.

“I love you most Emily Prentiss”

Dreams do come true to those who wait Emily found.

[itsokbbygrl]

Old Dogs and New Tricks

Summary: Sarah Miller has always loved her dad, maybe especially today. Years of long days at work and longer nights taking classes and studying have lead to this--his college graduation day. When the Miller family is interrupted during their impromptu picture time, Sarah thinks there might be one more person who could love her dad, too.

Word Count: 3k, one-shot

Rating: T (some swearing)

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader/OFC

Tags: FLUFF, TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF, BRUSH YOUR TEETH AND FLOSS AFTER THIS ONE!!!, mild swearing, Sarah Miller POV, briefly Joel Miller POV, likely some University of Texas at Austin graduation inaccuracies, adult learner gets his diploma yay, Uncle Tommy is an A+ wingman, almost zero description of reader aside from having hair long enough to tuck behind an ear, wearing a dress, and having a shimmering laugh, but Joel and Sarah both refer to reader as a woman and use she/her pronouns, no y/n, no 2nd person perspective, reader/OFC has an unspecified family outside of 1 sister

A/N: Helloooooooooo this is the first thing I've ever published here holy shiiiiiiit. I was scrolling on Pinterest for interior design inspo and came across this adorable photo and immediately went, "omg Joel and Sarah core."

So naturally, I had to write it and set it in the HBO TLOU timeline. Sarah is 10 and we're going to suspend our disbelief about the technology of the year 2000 a little bit okay??? Digital cameras were not that good and very expensive and most people still did not have cell phones, but THE MILLERS DO OK. Anyway without further ado, I give you that (not so) old man doing something adorable. I hope you like it! My DMs and inbox are always open (yes I lovingly refer to you all as my little chickens, come say hi to me!). Reblogs and comments are appreciated per usual. 💖 Banner and title card made by me with the help of Canva :)

Sarah loves a lot of things about her life–her soccer team, her fourth grade teacher, all of the friends she’s made in her 10 years of life–but if you asked her what she loved most of all, she would say her family, hands down. Her family is small–just she, her dad, and her uncle Tommy–but their love for each other is anything but. It’s been the three of them her whole life and she’s never felt like there were any missing pieces, until one fateful Saturday in May. 

Sarah has spent nearly her entire life being told how proud her dad is of her, but today is a day Sarah is determined to show her dad how proud she is of him. She knows he tries to hide how stressed he’s been the last few years, how tired, but she’s a smart girl and she, to her dad’s chagrin, notices everything. Sarah almost can’t contain her excitement for her dad as her uncle Tommy parks his truck in the vast expanse of the University of Texas at Austin’s football stadium parking lot. She hops out of the backseat and slams the door like Tommy taught her to make sure it closes all the way on its rusty old hinges, and then bends at her waist to brush any pesky wrinkles from her dress. She wanted to look extra nice for today, trying to tame her thick, curly hair by tying it back in a low bun and fashioning her favorite flower pin on the side, donning her favorite sundress and the sandals her grandma said were nice enough for Sunday church. If they were nice enough for grandma’s church, they were definitely nice enough for her dad’s graduation, she figured. 

Sarah finds Tommy around the front of the truck as he’s pulling their entry tickets from his wallet. “Here you go, kiddo,” he says, extending a ticket to her with a smile. She replies her thanks before following him towards the imposing stadium ahead. Tommy helps lead them through the crowd, consistently checking to make sure she’s still near, Sarah offering him a smile each time she catches him looking. Their seats are up high, in the top third of the stadium bleachers. Sarah thinks she hears Tommy mutter something about only getting good seats if you donate a bunch of money under his breath, but she isn’t sure what exactly he means, so she ignores it. 

“Do you know where dad’s going to be?” Sarah asks her uncle. She wants to know where to look, doesn’t want to miss a minute of this, and she’s dubbed herself unofficial photographer for the day, so she wants to make sure she knows where to point the camera at all times. 

“Not yet, honey. We’ll keep our ears open, they usually announce each college as they come in, so we’ll know when to look for your dad,” Tommy reasons. 

“Good plan,” Sarah nods in return, eyes focusing back on the field ahead. 

Once it appears the seats have nearly filled, Sarah checks her trusty watch and sees the time has just passed 2:00, the scheduled start time for today’s ceremony. As if she triggered it herself, her head perks up as the sound of brass instruments rings out through the stadium, signaling the start of the ceremony. She watches the entrance of students intently, hoping to catch a glimpse of her dad. 

Sarah turns in her seat and asks, “Uncle Tommy, can I have the camera, please?” 

Tommy fishes in his pocket and pulls out the requested camera, placing it in Sarah’s open palm. “Yup, got it right here. You gonna be on photography duty today?” Tommy chuckles as he watches Sarah’s brows pull together just like her dad’s as she fiddles with the buttons on the camera until the settings are to her liking. 

“You bet,” Sarah answers, poking her tongue between her teeth as she looks down at the small digital viewfinder. “Can’t see anything, gonna use the zoom and see if I can see any better through the screen.”

Tommy lets out a low whistle, “Smarty pants over here, did we forget your cap and gown? Shouldn’t you be down there?” He jokes and pokes her in the ribs to make her giggle. 

“Uncle Tommy! Stop!” She laughs. “I’m trying to focus!”

“Alright, alright, kiddo. I’ll let you focus. Let me know if you find him.”

“Aye aye, captain,” Sarah salutes in return, earning a chuckle out of her uncle. 

The McComb School of Business is announced and Sarah sits up a little straighter, refocusing her efforts to capture every important moment. She squints against the afternoon sun, determined to find her dad amongst the long line of pending graduates. 

“There!” she points and Tommy follows her finger, trying to find what she’s seeing. “See his hat? I told him he needed to put something on it so we could find him and he told me to go wild, so I did. I knew that orange glitter glue would come in handy.”

Tommy spots him then, laughing when Sarah shows him the picture she’s snapped on the little screen, Joel’s graduation cap adorned with orange glitter glue that reads, “This old dog learned new tricks,” accompanied by two clip art dogs pasted on opposite corners. 

“D’you come up with that all on your own, smarty pants?” Tommy asks her. 

“Sure did,” Sarah chuffs. “Dad always says, “You can’t teach an old dog new tricks,” when he doesn’t want to learn stuff like the camera or the computer, so I thought it would be funny,” she finishes with a shrug. Tommy silently laughs, his shoulders gently shaking, and Sarah smiles to herself. 

If there’s one thing Sarah will take away from this day it’s that graduation ceremonies are long and boring. There are about two minutes where she focuses intently as her dad’s row rises to make their way up to the stage. She diligently keeps the camera pointed his way, snapping pictures every so often. As he prepares to take the stage, she and Tommy stand from their seats. 

“Joel Alejandro Miller,” the announcer reads. Sarah and Tommy whoop and cheer as Joel crosses the stage, Sarah keeping the camera trained on her dad, making sure to press the shutter a few times as he shakes hands with the chancellor and receives his diploma. The rest of the ceremony goes by relatively uneventfully, until the graduates are instructed to stand and change their tassels from right to left. There’s a murmur through the audience and then the students erupt in a spirited rendition of, “The Eyes of Texas.” Sarah smiles as she watches the new graduates laugh and sing, throwing arms around friends and pointing to the sky. Once the song ends, the graduates then whoop and throw their caps into the air, and Sarah raises the camera once more to snap a couple final pictures. 

The crowd starts to dissipate, attendees making their way towards the exits to find their respective graduates. Sarah looks over the railing of the ramp as she and Tommy work their way down from their seats and watches as the mass of bodies move through the corridor, thinking about how they resemble a school of fish, almost liquid in the way they shift to accommodate obstacles in the hall. 

After a few minutes of shuffling, she and Tommy find the exit out of the stadium, heading towards the spot they designated to meet Joel after the ceremony. Sarah spots him first, poking Tommy in the arm and pointing his way. Tommy nods in acknowledgement, giving her the okay to head over. She looks both ways to make sure the coast is clear before breaking out in a jog. 

“Dad!” she calls, waving her arms to get Joel’s attention. His natural scowl drops the minute he sees her, face breaking out into a wide grin, and opens his arms as she rushes forward. Sarah meets him with force, earning a quiet, “Oof,” from her dad as she wraps her arms around his middle and hugs him tight. 

“You did it! I’m so proud of you!” Sarah tells him, not letting go, but tipping her head back to look him in the eyes. If she notices the extra glimmer along his waterline, she doesn’t say anything. He pulls her in tighter, giving her small shoulders a squeeze, and Sarah feels the deep rumble of his laughter in her cheek. 

“Thanks, babygirl. I’m so glad you came,” Joel tells her, rubbing up and down her back before letting her go from his embrace. 

“Hey old man, proud of you brother,” Tommy greets Joel with a smile and a hug, the brothers exchanging firm pats on the back before separating. Joel gives him a half smile and thanks him for coming and for bringing Sarah.

Sarah steps back from their little group and realizes her dad has already taken off his cap and gown, and that just won’t do. 

“Dad, where’s your hat and robe?” Sarah chides, putting her hands on her hips and giving him a serious look. 

“It was hot, so I took them off,” Joel answers. 

“Well, put them back on! We need to get pictures!” Sarah iterates, raising the camera in front of her dad’s face and giving it a shake. 

Joel sighs, but relents. “Alright, alright, gimme a second, kiddo, then you can play photographer.” They find an open spot on the lawn and Sarah powers up the camera again, using the viewfinder to ensure the shot is lined up just right. 

“Ok, 1, 2, 3…say, “Hook ‘em!”” Sarah says. 

Joel smiles and entertains his daughter’s request. “Hook ‘em!” he says, smiling for the camera. 

“Ok, this one, hold up your diploma,” Sarah requests and Joel again complies. “Can we do one more?” Sarah asks. 

Joel gives her a nod, “Sure thing, honey.”

“Ok, this one, do the Hook ‘Em horns,” Sarah says and she does the gesture with her own small hand. Joel mimics his daughter and smiles for the camera as she snaps the picture. She pulls up the recent shots and turns the camera towards her dad to review them together, unaware that they’ve been watched for the last few minutes. 

“Excuse me,” a soft voice interrupts Sarah and Joel from their scrolling and they look up to find a new member has joined their party. 

“Sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt, I just saw your daughter taking pictures and I thought y’all might want a few together?” Wow, pretty, Sarah thinks as she assesses the stranger. 

Joel clears his throat and Sarah turns her head to see her dad’s cheeks have flushed a new shade of pink as he stammers out a, “That’s awful kind of you, darlin’. Thanks for offerin’, we’d love that.” Sarah’s mouth ticks up into a smirk, the dimple she shares with her dad crescenting her cheek. She turns to Tommy and they share a knowing look. 

“Thank you, ma’am. You just press this button here,” Sarah hands over the camera and shows the pretty stranger how to operate it.

“Got it, thanks, sweetie,” she replies before bringing the camera’s viewfinder up to her eye and lining up the duo. “Ok, big smiles,” she says and clicks the shutter. She smiles and moves the camera away from her face for a moment to direct, “How about we get one with both of you showing us your best “Hook ‘Em” next,” before once again snapping the photo. “Alright, let’s do one more. Gimme your best silly faces!” and she lets out a shimmering laugh as she presses the shutter a final time. 

“Perfect,” she says to the small family, smiling and handing the camera to Joel, their fingers brushing briefly as the camera exchanges hands before both of their eyes lift to meet. Tension lingers only for a moment at the contact before they both let out breathy chuckles. The stranger lifts her hand and tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, Joel’s gaze following the motion, Sarah’s gaze locked on her father. 

“This was real kind of you, darlin’. Thanks again for helping us out,” Joel says, trying to extend the moment just a little longer. 

“Oh, it was nothin’. My pleasure, really,” she replies in kind, waving him off, her gaze dropping shyly to the ground. “Well,” she continues, bringing her gaze back to Joel’s, “I better head back or my sister,” she turns her torso and gestures to where her party is standing and carrying on conversation, “will never let me hear the end of it, how I deserted her on her own graduation day after she spent torturous hours sitting through mine a few years back,” She chuckles softly and clasps her hands in front of her, kicking out one foot and cocking her hip slightly to the side. 

“Alright, s'pose we better let you get on back then,” Joel replies. Sarah catches a sadness in her dad’s eyes at their pretty stranger’s words. “Thanks again…I know, I know, I’ll stop,” he laughs when she gives him a stink eye at his persistent gratitude. “Have fun with your family. And pass on our congrats to your sister.”

“I will,” she nods before taking a visible breath and waving goodbyes to the three Millers. She turns and heads back towards her own family. Sarah watches her dad watch her the entire time she goes, turning to Tommy and sharing an unspoken conversation before Tommy breaks the silence. 

“Alright, brother, why don’t you say hi to your fancy college buddies before we head out. I’ll entertain the sprout for a few minutes. Then we can head out for ice cream,” Tommy says, pulling Sarah into his arms and giving her a soft noogie while she cringes good naturedly. 

“Uncle Tommy! Stop, you’re going to mess up my hair!” Sarah complains. Tommy relents and Joel eyes the pair suspiciously, but ultimately agrees. He gives the camera back to Sarah for safekeeping, and she dramatically tells him she’ll protect it with her life. He laughs before leaving the pair on the lawn to find a few of his classmates and professors. 

Once he’s out of eye and earshot, Sarah and Tommy form a quick plan and spring into action. 

It’s getting late, the sun set, the evening sky dark and air heavy with the remaining heat and moisture from the day. Joel is sat in his makeshift home office at his messy desk, camera in hand, flipping through the pictures Sarah took earlier in the day. She got some pretty good shots, rolling his eyes and shaking his head fondly when he realizes how gaudy his cap looked from the crowd. 

He gets to the pictures of he and Sarah together and smiles, loving how happy his little girl looks, how proud she clearly is of him, how much fun they have together. He tries and fails not to think of the beautiful woman who took those pictures earlier, of the jolt of electricity that zipped up his arm and ran through his heart when their fingers touched, and he especially tries not to think about how he never managed to get her name. 

Just when he thinks he’s gotten to the end, the silly faces he and Sarah made only hours ago staring back at him through the small camera screen, he notices the number in the upper righthand corner. 24/25. There’s one more. He flips to it curiously, finding a special face looking back at him. A wide toothy smile, hair still tucked behind one ear, gorgeous little sundress that should have been illegal to wear out in public, and…holding a piece of paper? There’s something written on there and Joel desperately wants to know what it says, but for the life of him, he can’t remember how Sarah told him to work the goddamn zoom. 

He flips to the picture before, of him and Sarah making silly faces, swallows his pride and prepares himself for the shit he knows he’s about to get from his daughter before bellowing out, “Sarah! Babygirl, can you come here, please? Need you to help me with the camera!”

Sarah bounds into the room, sly grin already plastered on her face. Joel holds out the camera and asks, “How do you work the zoom on this thing again?”

Sarah walks over to her dad and points out the buttons he needs to use. “These right here, the plus sign zooms in, the minus sign zooms out, and you use these,” she moves her finger down to the directional arrow buttons that form a small circle on the lower right side of the camera, “to move the picture around when you’re zoomed in. Make sense?”

“Clear as mud,” Joel replies, giving the buttons a try to make sure he has it before dismissing his daughter, thanking her for her help, and thinks he hears her mutter something about old dogs and new tricks as she leaves the room. 

Joel turns his head to make sure Sarah isn’t hanging around before flipping back to the last picture on the digital version of a camera roll. He does as Sarah instructed, presses the plus button until the picture is zoomed in enough that he can read the paper being held up to the camera. No fucking way. He blinks, squints, rubs his eyes, and looks again, but his eyes did not deceive him. Written on the paper in a looping scrawl is undeniably a phone number. Joel leans back in his chair and brings his hand up to his mouth before pulling it down and resting on his lap. He stares at the screen for a moment in disbelief before letting out a low chuckle. He looks away from the screen and over towards the office entrance again, thinking about Tommy and Sarah and their insistence to hang back and let Joel congratulate his classmates and thank his professors. 

“Son of a bitch,” Joel murmurs to himself. He shakes his head and looks back at the screen. He holds his gaze there for a minute, then one more, before he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his cell phone, punching in the number and hitting the green call button before he loses his nerve. 

The line rings once, twice, three times, and Joel thinks maybe this was a mistake, calling a relative stranger after a brief (at most) meeting, but then the ringing stops and a newly familiar voice answers with a soft, “Hello?”

Joel smiles as his anxieties drift away, “Hey, darlin’. Nice to hear your voice again.”

END

Tagging some friends who might be interested: @5oh5 @javierpena-inatacvest @swiftispunk @sawymredfox

[iridescentparkers]

vanilla palm trees → three - late night talking

vanilla palm trees → three - late night talking

summary ⇢ it’s been years, he should get over it, right? but, peter just can’t. he looks up, he sees her. he goes to bed, he dreams of her. he wakes up, he can smell her. he goes out one night and he sees…her. no, not gwen but his ticket to stop moping around on the anniversary of her death. what is meant to be one quick night of putting sadness on the back burner, is now a blossoming new love that feels all too perfect for peter. was this new woman in his life meant to be? or was this just another set of poorly dealt cards that would leave him walking away empty handed. all or nothing, right? ↝ college!au ↝ one night stand gone wrong trope | masterlist

parings ⇢ tasm!peter parker x female reader

warnings ⇢ alcohol use and sexual themes

a/n ⇢ THANKS FOR 500 AAHAHAHAHAHAHHHAH LFG! love y'all. answer my poll if you can, i wanna write something new. also this one is kinda short!

HE WATCHED as his windows clouded with condensation and fog, making his New York City apartment a bit dreary. Lighting the match on his old gas station matchbox, Peter saw Y/N’s tired reflection stare back at him in the window. 

“You look exhausted,” he remarked as he lit candles around the room. “You should get some sleep. Take my bed.  I’ll sleep out here.” 

“I’m fine,” she remarked, followed by a stifled yawn. “Don’t worry about me. I just hope nothing too bad happened to your circuit.” 

“It’s all good,” he assured. “My roommate texted and said the powers' out on the entire block.” 

 He saw her shiver under her blanket, rubbing her hands quickly back and forth, “If the hand warmers aren’t working, there is always a beer.” 

“I know we aren’t that far in age, but I cannot drink like I used to in college,” she informed, pulling her blanket close to her body. 

He laughed, grabbing a blanket nearby, moving to his couch, and opening one of the beers on the table, “We were both barely drunk.” 

“I was barely tipsy, but my tolerance is still not as good as it used to be. I went to USC. The parties here are tame compared to the LA lifestyle.” 

He lifted the bottle to his lips as she spoke, Y/N's eyes watching his hands. “I’ll take one.” 

“You sure, don’t feel pressured-

“I don’t, I promise." She began. "You already have me in three layers of your clothes. If this isn’t working, what else will.” She stated. 

“You miss it?”

“What? LA?” She asked, and he nodded. 

“Sometimes. I grew up here though. I left to get a drastic change of scenery.” She mentioned, watching him as he took a swig of his drink. 

“What part?”

“Manhattan. My parents owned a gallery for years, both art curators, and when they need me to, my brother and I plan to run the whole thing.” 

“Which one?”

“My Mom’s family gallery, we’ve had it for years.” 

"There is more than one?"

"A couple here and there. That's the biggest one." 

“What’s the name ?”

She hesitated, glancing around his apartment before meeting his eyes again, “The Trenton.” 

That was his favorite gallery, the curations changing every month with local artists that people come from all over the world to see. Peter spat out his beer, the words making him choke, “Holy shit-”

She pressed her lips firmly together, pushing her hair away from her face, “Sorry.”

Peter had apologized. Y/N waved a gentle hand, “You’re not the first.” 

“That’s my favorite gallery,” he lit up, drinking more of his beer. 

She smiled, her leg drawing closer to his. “I should take you some time.”

“I’d love that.”  

Y/N shrugged her shoulders as she sipped her beer, leaning back further on the couch. Peter mirrored the position, placing his body even closer to Y/N, “What do your parents do?”

“My Aunt and Uncle raised me,” he informed. “My Aunt May runs a non-profit and my uncle passed years ago, a mechanic.” 

“Peter, I’m so sorry,” she stated, placing a gentle hand on his thigh, rubbing her thumb along his kneecap. 

“It was all a while ago. I’ve been healing for years.”  He smiled, Y/N removing her hand from his leg. The ghosts of her gentle hand lingered and he slowly looked down and back up at Y/N as she took another sip of her drink. Peter watched as Y/N moved her lips to the bottle, swiping her thumb along her bottom lip. He looked back up at her eyes, watching as they quickly jolted back and forth. She leaned into him, kissing him hard. After placing her beer aside, him doing the same, she crawled into his lap. She grinded onto him, Peter grabbing her ass as she wrapped her arms around him. She pulled from him, narrowing her eyes at Peter.

“It’s almost 3, and I’m feeling warm,” she whispered, getting out of his lap. “I’m going to get some sleep.”

“Yeah, go ahead. Take my bed.”

She quickly ran to Peter’s room, letting the door crack behind her. Peter followed her down the hallway, slowly peering inside of his room. He watched as she pulled back his neatly made sheets, folding them forward as she got under the covers. He stepped closer inside, veering towards the edge of her bed. 

“If you need anything Y/N, let me know.”

She shifted to sit on her knees, eyeing Peter in his stance. Ending the space between them, she crawled closer, grabbing his hand as he stood before her. “Stay with me.”

She was glowing, the same way as she did in the bar, even like this. There was something so angelic about her touch, hell her entire being. He wanted nothing more than to fall into her and see all of her, but he couldn’t. 

“Please.” She asked, placing a warm hand under his shirt, and moving her fingers along his abdomen. 

“Please.”

She put her other hand along his cheek, her face almost touching his. “Okay.”

He nodded, looking down at her lips. She pressed her lips on his gently, slowly pushing herself further into him. Peter broke the kiss stating, “We shouldn’t, I’m not that intoxicated.”

“I’m not either, I swear.” She assured, kissing along his neck. 

“Still, just to be safe.”

He grabbed her hand, holding it to his chest before moving her to one side of his bed. Lying down, he moved her hand around his torso, allowing her to tuck her head into his neck. 

“Peter?”

“Hmm?”

“Did you blow out all of those candles?”

In the morning, Peter awoke before Y/N, his body now to her backside. The apartment was still chilly but it felt amazing. The warmness between them was so natural and comforting that it left Peter not wanting to let go. 

“Good morning.” 

With her eyes closed, Y/N greeted Peter, her words still mumbled with sleep. 

“Morning,” he greeted back, kissing the back of her neck. “How are you feeling?”

“Warm,” she smiled, running her hand along Peter’s arm. She turned over, her face about an inch from Peter’s to place a lazy kiss on his lips. She drew her hands up and down his back as he gripped the side of her face. Her tongue moved lazily in his mouth, and his response muffled in moans of pleasure. 

“Woah there bossman!” A voice yelled,  “You’re breaking roommate rules It's 10 AM.”

The two broke apart and Peter jolted from his lying position, “Shit.”

“Who’s that?” Y/N asked, sitting up.

“My roommate.”

“Alcohol, candles, blankets, pillows,” Harry noted, his voice growing closer to Peter’s door. “Parker! I’m so proud of you!”

“Parker? Who’s Parker?”

“It’s my last name,” He hurried, getting out of bed. “Listen I-”

With his hand over his eyeballs, he walked up to Peter’s door, “Now I’m not coming in, but I would just like to say, this is a monumental event that will go down in Osborne and Parker history.”

“After years, Parker’s got his groove back!"

“Harry!”

[ghostgorlsworld]

Johnny Boy (Part 7)

Werewolf! Johnny x reader

part one is here

Once upon a time, you would've done anything for John Mctavish. He had been your older brother's cool best friend, and you were always desperate for him to see you as more--until one fateful night that ends up with you pregnant and him...gone. Fast forward six years and you've made a good life for yourself with your daughter Emma, with Johnny none the wiser. Until he decides to knock on your door.

Notes--Johnny is showing his true colors so the story is definitely getting a little darker.

You woke up hungover and embarrassed. 

You were old enough to know better and a mother for Christ’s sake–by all means too old to be making idiotic decisions that could shake the life you had spent over half a decade building. You could hardly remember what had led up to Johnny doing…the thing that he did, but you were sure you didn’t exactly put up a fight.

Tommy walked Emma back to your house shortly after seven, dressed for work. He pulled the makings of breakfast from the fridge, grumbling some nonsense about two full-grown wolf-soldiers eating him out of house and home. You were trying very hard not to do your walk of shame, refusing to look at the chair or the leftover pizza in the fridge. Emma, of course, was none the wiser, curling up in your lap to nuzzle at your face. 

“Did you have fun?” You asked, inspecting her for signs staying up too late. 

Emma nodded, beginning a long play-by-play of the previous night’s events, including a humorous addition of her forcing Simon to teach her card games. “We had ice cream after dinner,” she said, whispering it so Tommy wouldn’t hear. “Uncle Tom told me not to tell you.” 

Emma couldn’t keep a secret to save her life. You laughed and tickled her sensitive feet.

You couldn’t believe you had been so weak to let Johnny back in again. You couldn’t trust him, no matter what he said about his reasons for disappearing, and adding sex to the equation could only make things even worse.

“Johnny was out late last night,” Tommy said casually, cracking an egg into a pan. “He left after Emma went to bed.”

You couldn’t help but glance at the chair, trying very hard not to remember Johnny’s voice, wrecked and commanding, or his hands, or his tongue-

“I had an early night,” you said. “Charlie called for a raincheck.”

“Mm,” Tom said. “Scrambled?” You nodded, not missing Emma’s curious look. She really was too smart for her own good. 

The weekend passed uneventfully–you avoided Johnny by packing up Emma and spending a day in the city, finishing up your Christmas shopping in the shiny shops and taking Emma ice skating in the square. He called you once, but you quickly put Emma on the phone, your stomach aching just at the thought of talking to him.

Emma picked out a pair of red and white striped socks and a box of legos as a gift for her father. She was pleased with her choices, and you tried your very best to smile when she displayed them to you.

Johnny wasn’t even going to be around for Christmas, and that was something you needed to discuss with him. Your little girl couldn’t survive off of no letters or calls–after all, it nearly killed you. 

Monday comes with the first real snowfall of the year. You dressed in warm layers, sweaters and soft scarves, Emma’s face pink under the winter jacket you had strapped her in. 

Charlie was sitting by your desk at work, two cups of coffee in hand and your favorite pastry in front of your chair. He smiled as you unwound the scarf from your neck, looking appropriately guilty and embarrassed. “I wanted to apologize,” he said, passing you the coffee. “I…it was a dick move. I had a few already and confused the days–I er, I tried to call you in the morning when I had come to my senses but you didn’t answer.”

Honestly, you had forgotten about it completely. You raised a brow at the man. “I took Emma to the city for Christmas shopping. We were busy.” Charlie nodded. “Yeah, of course, it’s the holidays. I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry, I feel like I’ve fucked things up.”

You searched around for anger, or even mild irritation, but it was gone, used up entirely by Johnny. “It’s alright, Charlie, thanks for the coffee.” Charlie smiled again, relieved. You took a seat at your desk and listened to him chatter about drama with Chris and Jan at the copying machine. 

You watched his hands. They were good hands–man hands, if you will, pale hair on his knuckles and a silver ring on his thumb. Johnny’s hands were wide and thick with dark hair, his nail beds always worn raw from the shift from stubby human nails to sharp claws. 

Why were you comparing? What was wrong with you?

Why couldn’t you just let sleeping dogs lie?

Charlie claimed your attention once more, following you to the carts of books that needed shelves. “I was wondering…I know I’ve acted like a right bastard, but I was thinking I could make it up to you. How does dinner tomorrow sound? I’ll make the food and supply the wine, you just bring yourself.”

You wanted to say no. That meant that you would have to see if Julienne would keep Emma for a few more hours, not to mention your attraction to Charlie had taken a nose-dive when he ditched you the first time. If only your body held all men accountable–your issue with Johnny would be solved overnight.

That was the thing that made you consider it. Johnny. He was your kryptonite, your achilles heel, and you needed to burn his touch off your skin.

“Alright,” you said. “If I can get a sitter for the bear.” “Deal,” Charlie said, grinning. He kissed your cheek gently, mouth warm and chapped.

Johnny texted the next morning, asking if he could take you and Emma out to lunch on your break. He offered to drop her off at Juliene’s house as well, saving you the walk.

You needed to rip the bandaid off. He wasn’t going to stay away forever, and it didn’t matter he had eaten you out while you were very sad and very drunk, you couldn’t keep him away from Emma. 

“Em, do you want to see Johnny today?” You asked, hoping against hope she would shake her head.

Instead, your darling girl perked up, ears twitching as she nodded eagerly. The full moon was coming quickly, so her behavior was…off, her eyes growing brighter by the day. Johnny used to refuse to be around you on the week of the full moon. He disappeared from your house and would show back up a few days later, looking exhausted and on edge, twitching if you tried to touch him.

You sighed. 

Where should we meet you? 

Johnny’s reply was lightning quick. You still like Angelo’s?

Angelo’s was a sandwich shop you used to frequent with Johnny, you hadn’t been in ages. That’s fine.

Johnny texted back something enthusiastic and barely legible.

Julienne had agreed to watch Emma for a couple more hours without irritation, saying she could use the money for a fancy new garden gadget she had been eyeing. You planned on grabbing it for her for Christmas, a token of your appreciation for her help with Emma.

You were going to give Charlie one last chance, if this dinner didn’t pan out you would find some other patsy to take you out every other weekend. 

Johnny was going to be gone soon, after all, and Emma is unpredictable with these things. She could take it as easily as she took the death of her grandfather, or it could be…catastrophic. 

You eyed your phone, forcing yourself to do the hard thing that neither of you wanted to face. 

I was hoping you would talk to Emma about you leaving soon.

There. You said it. You tossed your phone on the bed and finished getting dressed, herding Emma to school before you forced yourself to look at his response.

Of course, hen, we’ll talk about it. 

Work went by quickly in your haze of anxiety. What would he say to Emma?

What would he say to you?

You didn’t expect him to be waiting at Emma’s school. He was leaning against his truck, all twinkly blue eyes and a sharp smile that reminded you that he left for you. Because he couldn’t control himself. 

Johnny was trying to be good. You see it now, you remembered the way he used to follow you home after school, walking close behind you like he thought someone was going to steal you away. He wouldn’t share food with anyone, not even Tom, but if you asked he would always tear whatever it was in half and put it on your plate. 

Johnny and Tom had been playing video games in the living room when you left for your first date. You were sixteen and he had just hit twenty one, and he had looked at poor Dan Hilton like he wanted to rip out his guts and serve them up with eggs.

You had chalked it up to brotherly feelings, or the simple fact that Johnny has never liked to share. 

To see it for what it was felt…odd. You had heard about wolves claiming human spouses, putting a bite on their throat like a wedding band and never, ever letting go.

“Hey,” you said tiredly. 

Johnny straightened–he wanted a hug, you could see it in the way his hands twitched. “I figured I would give the two of ye a ride, yeah? It’s fuckin’ freezin’ today.” “Alright,” you said, glancing at your phone. The bell should be ringing any minute, and Johnny’s attention would be on Emma and not you. His attention was dangerous, it made you stupid and reckless.

“I heard you’ve got a hot date tonight,” Johnny said, going straight for the jugular.  

You stiffened. “That’s none of your business.” “Ach, lass, you wound me.”

“Johnny, the other night…it was a mistake. I was drunk and lonely and you were there.” You didn’t think it was possible to hurt Johnny, but you did. It flashed across his eyes, his jaw tightening into a straight line. 

You felt your stomach twist–god you were handling this all wrong-

He took a step, tilting your chin up with the pad of his rough finger. He wanted you to look at him, to watch his pupils swallow up the bright blue of his eyes. “I’m not a good man, kitty. Hell, I’m not even a man, not really. I know I’ve hurt you, and I’ll repent every fuckin’ day for it, but if you let him touch you, I’ll gut him like a goddamn fish.” “How dare you-” you began, but Johnny gripped your chin then, pressing the tips of his claws into your skin lightly. “You want me,” Johnny said, his gaze hazy and wild as it dropped to your mouth. “Even now. I should bite you right here, make it real fucking simple for you.”

There it was–the wolf that he had hidden from you for so long, the killer wearing the skin of your brother’s best friend. You forced yourself to hold his stare, feeling the sharp prick of his claws on the delicate skin of your throat. 

“I want a proper husband, John,” you said softly. “I want a real father for my child, someone who will be there for the birthdays and graduations and holidays. I want someone to sleep beside me every night, someone that doesn’t make me do this alone.”

You knew you were driving a knife right between his ribs–you knew how badly this would hurt him. Johnny had spent his childhood not being right for his mother, not being human enough, gentle enough. 

His eyes were so bright and so lost. 

“I’ve been alone for six years, John. I don’t ever want Emma to know what that feels like.”

Johnny was silent, his breath coming fast and rough. “I’ll never let another man have you,” he rasped. “You’re mine. Both of you.” 

He pressed closer, nuzzling your jaw with a low growl. “I’ll be a good mate, hen, I suppose it’s only right that I prove myself before we have our next pup.”

“No!” You hissed, pushing him away. “Enough, Johnny. You’ll be gone soon and I’ll have to deal with the fallout as per fucking usual.”

Your words weren’t working–they were working him up instead, like Emma when she watched the neighbor’s squirrels chase each other in the trees. His heart thudded like a drum under your palm. 

“You’re making a scene, kitty,” he said slyly, tilting his head like he wanted nothing more than to give chase. “Now hush, we’ll talk about this later. Emma shouldn’t see Mum and Dad argue.” You opened your mouth to argue, so furious you could hardly think.  

“Mum?” Emma sang, bouncing out of the school. “Oh, Johnny!” She ran to him, the little traitor. Johnny smiled, his sharp edges softening as he swung her up into his arms. “Ach, my girl’s getting heavy,” he teased, nuzzling her face. She mimicked his movements, her smile bright and happy–they were scenting each other. 

You looked away. “C’mon you two,” you said, forcing your tone to lighten. “I only have an hour for lunch.”

You barely touch your food, your stomach twisting and turning in furious knots. A sandwich, your old favorite, sits in front of you, courtesy of Johnny.

The audacity of men. You were the one who had spent countless nights bouncing up and down the hallway with Emma in your arms, exhausted and sore, your breasts swollen and aching from her sharp teeth–yet, Johnny was quickly a new favorite. They were the same, after all, the same species, the same aggressive, needy temperament.

Johnny wiped a bit of mustard from Emma’s cheek, humming at her irritated whine. She was close to her shift, and her skin was sensitive. “Dinna fash, baby, it’s the moon,” he crooned, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of her head. “I woke up this morning w’my skin crawling.”

That was another bump in the road. Emma’s shifts had gotten harder and harder over the years, more anger, more pain, and the internet had barely any information about early childhood shifts. Jack hadn’t been concerned, saying Johnny had the same issues at that age–the only difference was that Johnny was a feral little thing that used to sneak out during the full moon and pick off the strays of London. Emma couldn’t bring herself to squash an ant, much less devour a cat or dog–but then Johnny hadn’t had much human influence, at least, not until you and Tommy. 

“Emma, tell your Ma that if she doesn’t eat, we’ll have to feed her ourselves,” Johnny said. He was smiling, but his eyes were sharp. 

Emma sniffed at your sandwich. “You didn’t have breakfast either, Mum,” she said accusingly. “You always tell me food is good for your brain.”

You cocked an eyebrow at her. “Maybe I’m not hungry.”

“Eat, kitty,” Johnny said, his tone rougher as if you were one of his soldiers. “You look dead on yer feet.” You took a bite, just to appease them. You could still feel the small, stinging cuts his claws had scraped on your jaw. 

[luvfy0dor]

Omg can I request like a teen reader reaction to fyodors death and how it would play out if they randomly saw dazai in the street after the whole thing?

“You're Not Gone, You Can't Be Gone, No ♡⁠˖” Dad!Fyodor w/ Child!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

Warnings; MASSIVE BSD spoilers, death, 5 stages of grief, 1 mention of kidnapping (doesn't happen), cursing

Description; You feel as though you'll never recover from your father's death, especially since he had recently promised that he would be home soon via the vampires. Seeing his rival and murderer in the streets afterwards doesn't help either, even if you've started to come to terms.

A/n; I genuinely don't believe he's dead, there is absolutely NO way. There is nothing that could convince me he's actually dead, not a corpse, not a tombstone, idc, he's alive and Nikolais ability saved him, source: trust me bro

When you had first received word about your father dying from Nikolai, you felt like you were going to die along with him. Your heart had been cracking up with anxiety when he seemingly took his sweet time to return home, and it shattered when you heard. Everything was going as planned up until the very end, when you waited day in and day out for your dad, and he never came back and never would. You were in denial for a while, but it slowly sank in when Nikolai had taken you to live with him. He wasn't around constantly, usually out figuring out what to do with himself, but he watched over you. You loved Nikolai, he was like an uncle to you, but he just wasn't Fyodor. You almost hated yourself for the way your voice became laced with venom and loathing any time he tried to do anything remotely fatherly for you, but you couldn't help it for the first two months. It was too painful to evoke memories of your dad, so you just angrily pushed any reminders away. That being said, you refused to get rid of any of his belongings. His ushanka lived on your nightstand and his cape on a hook on your door, and if you had rejected religion before, you started to embrace it to try and bring yourself closer to him, even in the afterlife.

After experiencing the denial, anger, bargaining and depression, the acceptance came. The thought of him still hurt you, but you were able to go on with your day without feeling paralyzed by your devastation. You didn't mind Nikolai doing fatherly things for you anymore. You didn't decline his offers to play card games or chess anymore. Chess was harder to come around to than card games were, but nonetheless you did it. It honestly felt victorious. You were able to look at the urn that held the ashes from Fyodors arm without wanting to throw up and instead smiled and spoke mindlessly to it about your day, even if you felt a little silly doing it. It helped you cope with the loss of the most important figure in your life, so you didn't see a reason to stop.

A couple months after his death, you spoke to the urn while you got ready for the day. You wanted to go to a bookstore a couple blocks away, so you decided to get up and walk there. You grabbed your belt and shoved it through the loopholes of your pants roughly. "My favorite author put out a new book recently and I wanna go get it today. Maybe afterwards I'll go to the cafe nearby, thoughts?" You asked the urn, receiving a deafening silence. "Great, I'll be sure to follow your advice." You huffed. After putting on and tying your shoes, you grabbed the tote bag that was hanging of your door handle and slung it over your shoulder, exiting your bedroom. You walked through the hall and out the front door having found the house vacant of Nikolai. The sun was shining today, a nice contrast to the previous days rainy weather. Your feet hitting the pavement underneath you made a quiet tapping sound as you walked along the sidewalk towards the book shop. You listened to music through your headphones for the duration of your walk and took in the sights of the city, the tall buildings towering over the streets and casting dark shadows into the alleyways between them.

You quickly arrived at the book store and took off your headphones to hear the cashier better when you checked out. The nice lady handed you your change and sent you on your way. Walking out, you peered into your bag with excitement before you hear a young man yell out. "Dazai- where'd you go? Don't tell me you're in the river again!" You almost froze in your tracks when you heard that. Dazai as in your father's rival, Dazai? It couldn't be. You peered through the people weaving in between eachother and heard another voice reply. "I'm right here Atsushi, jeez, do you trust me that little?" He sounded unserious. Your eyes landed on them, the tall man with overgrown brown hair immediately caught your attention and you could feel fear flood your spirit. Your first thought was the question of whether or not he would realize you were Fyodors child and attempt to kill you, or make you his new rival. Him and the white haired boy he had with him turned towards you and started walking down the sidewalk. Dazai noticed your staring and raised an eyebrow, his slender, bandaged hands shoved in his pockets.

"Are you alright? You've got a thousand yard stare on your face there, kid." He says. You bit your lip and felt your whole body tense as you shook your head 'no'. "You...uhm, I know you." You mutter, backing up a little bit. "Atsushi? Or me? I don't think I recall ever meeting you. Atsushi, was this one of your little orphan friends?" He turns to Atsushi. "You killed my-" Your breath hitches when you realize you were going to make yourself vulnerable to your most current fear of rivalry with this man, but you can't stop your words flowed out of your mouth like a waterfall. "You killed my father." Your voice shook and you held your bag of more books than you had originally came for close to your chest. Dazais raised an eyebrow. "Who?"

You swallowed hard and parted your lips, the words caught in your throat for a second. "Fyodor." His eyes widen again. "Huh...I never took him for a family man. Well, I can't really give you a truthful 'im sorry' because I'm not, but I hope you can overcome your grief. It sucks to lose people you love." He says, his tone seemingly sympathetic, but that only made you angrier. "You didn't have to kill him, though! You could have done anything else- amputate an arm, kidnap him, anything that would have left him alive!" You say, your eyes tearing up. He only signed and stated at you, adjusting the hem of his vest. "What's done is done, it's not like I can resurrect him. One day you'll understand that it needed to be done." He walked away and you couldn't help but feel the anger bubble up inside you. You weren't gonna let that slide. You clenched your fists around the bags handles and swung it up, hitting him right in the back of the head angrily. He let out a quiet "oomph" and rubbed the back of his head. You didn't turn around to see the rest of his reaction, instead bolting away.

You heard your heart beat in your ears, but you couldn't be bothered to stop until you got home. You unlocked the door and swung it open before pulling it shut with just as much force. Your energy was all directly fueled by your anger towards Dazai, you genuinely had no idea how he could be so inconsiderate towards a teenager who had lost their parental figure. You huffed and collapsed on the couch, the adrenaline and energy seemingly fading away instantaneously. You discarded your books on the small table and sniffled, curling your limbs into your body. "It's fine, he's just an ignorant, awful, dick." You mumble, wiping your stray tears away. "All that matters is that I know he didn't deserve to die.." you mumbled and felt your exhaustion catch up to you as you drifted into a sleep filled with dreams of reuniting with your father.

[ladykailitha]

Can Anybody See Me? Part 5

This is called Christmas with the Munsons in my head. Also the tagging slots have been filled. Any future requests will be ignored.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

*

Christmas morning came, and the phone rang. Eddie jumped up from his small pile of presents to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Eddie,” Steve mumbled into the phone.

“Steve!” Eddie called happily. “What’s up, man?”

“Is it‒is it too late to come over?”

Eddie looked over at Wayne who shook his head.

“Not at all,” Eddie said. “Come on over, we were about to start making breakfast.”

Steve sighed. “I’ll be right over.”

Twenty minutes later, Steve showed up on their doorstep looking like a kicked puppy.

Eddie’s heart broke a little more for this kid.

“Come on in,” he greeted. “We got bacon frying up right now, Uncle Wayne has already done the eggs.”

Steve nodded.

He walked in and was immediately greeted by everything Christmas should be. A tree lit up in the corner. Fairy lights everywhere. Tacky silver garland that shed like hell. It was perfect. His eyes went wide and his jaw dropped.

He had seen Christmas decorations in other houses, of course, but this had a homey feel that just infused everything around it.

Eddie pressed a cup of hot chocolate into his hands after he had taken off his coat.

“This is my Uncle Wayne,” Eddie said, indicating to the man who was frying up the bacon.

“I hope so,” Steve teased, “otherwise it would be weird having a strange man in your place.”

Eddie smacked his arm as Wayne came over, a large grin on his face.

“You must be Steve,” Wayne said. “It’s nice to finally meet you. You’re all Eddie talks about these days.”

“Do not!” Eddie protested. “But I am glad you’re here.”

“Thanks,” Steve murmured. “They called on Friday saying that they were going to be in town by Christmas eve, but I woke up this morning to a special courier with a tacky Christmas card and a check. I tried calling, but they didn’t answer. So I called here.”

He looked down at his feet as he struggled not to cry. Eddie came over and hugged him. Steve grabbed a hold of the back of Eddie’s shirt and couldn’t let go. He still had the hot chocolate in one hand, but the other was gripping the other boy, tight.

There was a gentle voice next to them that said, “Here, Steve. Let me take that chocolate from you.”

And then both arms were clinging to Eddie like a life line. He wasn’t sure how long they had been standing there, but bit by bit, Steve slowly untangled himself from Eddie’s embrace.

He wiped his eyes and said with a watery chuckle. “I decided I didn’t want to be home when, or rather if they called back. Make them worry for once.”

Eddie and Wayne laughed.

“I like the way you think, Harrington!” Eddie said clapping Steve on the back.

Steve blushed but went over to the table and sat down to eat.

“I hope scrambled is okay,” Wayne said. “I don’t get a lot of time before I go to work.”

Steve looked up with a gasp. “They make you work today?”

Wayne shrugged. “It is what it is, which is to say it pays the bills. But I know both shift managers have today off.”

Steve chewed on his lower lip. “My dad would do that too. Make his employees work on Christmas when he was off with some dumb snow bunny in the Alps.”

“Is that why your mom goes with him now?” Eddie asked.

Steve nodded.

“I got you both Christmas presents,” he mumbled into his eggs.

Eddie and Wayne looked at each other in shock. “You didn’t have to do that,” Eddie said.

“We didn’t get you anything,” Wayne protested.

Steve just shook his head. “This is gift enough. Not spending Christmas alone.”

Both Eddie and Wayne slumped their shoulders defeated. Steve got up and went to his coat. He pulled out to hastily wrapped gifts and handed them to each of them.

Wayne unwrapped his first. It was a beautifully cast ceramic mug with tan base and a dark brown rim and handle.

“It’s beautiful,” Wayne said softly. He turned around and placed it lovingly on the wall next to his other mugs.

Steve’s eyes went wide. “Wow. I guess I picked the one thing that would be perfect.”

“Are you sure it’s okay, giving me this?” Wayne asked.

Steve nodded. “It’s one of my favorite mugs. It used to be a set of four, but I broke on last year and it’s not as though my parents are home often enough to need three mugs.”

“Well thank you,” Wayne murmured.

Eddie stood there holding his gift, unsure. Because there was no way that Steve got two perfect presents.

“Go ahead and open it,” Steve said. “It’s more of a gag gift until I can get to the store and get you a proper present.”

“You don’t have to do that, man,” Eddie said. He almost wished for standoffish Steve, because this was quickly becoming too much.

But he opened the present and laughed out loud. Inside was a hideously stuffed bat with large googly eyes and yellow wings.

Eddie hugged it tight. “Mine, now!”

Steve blushed. “I saw the tattoo and couldn’t resist.” He tapped on his forearm.

Eddie looked down at his arm and giggled. “I’m not supposed to have this, but...”

Steve grinned. “It suits you.”

“Thanks, man,” Eddie said. His face lit up. “I have a fantastic idea. Me and the rest of the boys are having a little get together tomorrow. You should come.”

Steve thought about declining but couldn’t come up with a good reason to. “Sure.” He thought for a minute. “Are you guys exchanging gifts?”

Eddie gave a small, sly smile. “Why? You want to get the guys something?”

Steve blushed. “Only if everyone else is doing gifts, I’d hate to come empty handed.”

“We’d have to go shopping tomorrow,” Eddie said. “It will be fucking insane.”

Steve pressed him lips together. He nodded firmly. “Yeah.”

“We can all go shopping tomorrow,” Eddie replied. “We do this every year. We don’t want to get each other something our families got us. So we go to the mall and run around like crazy people buying each other presents.”

Steve laughed. “Sounds like fun. Yeah, count me in.”

Eddie jumped up and down cheering. “Yes!”

Wayne rolled his eyes. “Please sit down before you knock over your plate and lose your bacon.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide. “I wouldn’t want to do that.” He sat down slowly to avoid hitting the plate.

Wayne and Steve looked at each other and shook their head.

Eddie put his hand over his heart. “Are you already conspiring against me? You haven’t been here that long.”

“Why aren’t you in drama, dude?” Steve asked. “You are the most melodramatic person I have met.”

Eddie shoved his hair in front of his mouth.

“He gets stage fright,” Wayne said.

“How?” Steve asked. “He gets up in front of people all the time. At lunch or what about his band...”

Eddie blushed. “It’s being me verses being someone else. I can’t be anyone else.”

“I guess I wouldn’t want you to be anyone else either,” Steve admitted.

Wayne looked up at the clock. “It’s about that time. You boys enjoy your day and be sure and clean up after yourselves.”

“Thank you, Mr Munson,” Steve said.

Wayne just smiled.

Steve turned to Eddie, “So what do you do when he goes to work?”

“Fill up on junk food and watch cheesy Christmas movies,” Eddie replied with a big grin.

“We could order pizza,” Steve said. “I did just get another $400 check today, so it’ll be my treat.”

“You’re on,” Eddie said. “As long as I get to pick the movies.”

“Sounds good to me. I don’t usually have time to watch movies with all the sports I’m in, so it’ll be a nice treat.”

“What sports do you play?” Wayne asked, grabbing his coat.

Steve blushed. “Well. I should have said used to play. I was in basketball and baseball before I got a concussion.”

Wayne grimaced. “Eddie was in little league before he got his concussion, so I understand.”

Eddie frowned. “No I wasn’t. I don’t do sports.”

Wayne chuckled, pulling on his coat. “It was only for a season, you were a pitcher.”

“I can totally see that,” Steve said, crowing with delight.

“So which position did you play?” Wayne asked.

“Designated hitter,” Steve said. “I hit really hard.”

Wayne smiled. “It’s too bad you can’t play anymore, I would have liked to have gone to a game.”

Steve ducked his head in embarrassment. “I guess there’s only swimming for me now. And I guess drama, now.”

“You’ll figure it out,” Wayne said. “It seems to me you’ve got a good head on your shoulders.”

He waved goodbye and then was gone.

“Where’s your phone?” Steve asked.

Eddie pointed it out and then dug around a cabinet.

Steve came back a few minutes later. “I just got a couple of pepperonis if that’s okay with you. And scheduled them to arrive at noon. I figured we’d be hungry by then.”

Eddie grinned. “Yeah, that’s fine. So I pulled out my favorites. ‘Miracle on 34th Street’, ‘We’re No Angels’, and ‘The Greatest Christmas Pageant Ever’. Which one do you want to watch first?”

Steve’s eyes went wide. “We’re watching all of them?”

Eddie nodded. “We have all day, right?”

“I guess the Miracle one.”

Eddie grinned. “Good choice, good choice.”

But instead of pulling out a VHS, Eddie pulled out these small tapes.

“A Betamax, seriously?” Steve asked incredulously.

“Hey!” Eddie protested. “These are far superior. They hold more movie, for one and take up less space for another.”

Steve just shook his head and settled on the couch. “Your house, your rules, man. I am at your mercy.”

Eddie just smiled at him.

Part 6  Part 7  Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17 Part 18  Part 19  Part 20  Part 21

Tag List: @the-redthread @howincrediblysapphicofyou @lovelyscot @dangdirtydemons @jaywhohasthegay @whimsicalwitchm @xjessicafaithx @cr0w-culture @kohlraedirectioner @jinxjinn @be-the-spark-bitch @chasinggeese @reportinglivefromsoda @bookbinderbitch @awkwardgravity1 @shucks-yuckyuck @stevesbipanic @phantypurple @huniibee @ashwinmeird @justforthedead89 @emly03 @evix-syne666 @renaissan-vvitch @deadlydodos @scarletzgo @messrs-weasley @kodaik97 @thedragonsaunt @butterflysandpeppermint @gregre369 @nelotegreitic @sundead @artiststarme @fandemonium-takes-its-toll @thing-a-ling @anaibis @garden-of-gay @matchingbatbites @spectrum-spectre @winterbuckwild @steve-the-hairrington @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @babyblender @cursedfoxteeth @novelnovella @throwbackthrowaway @strangersteddierthings @shrimply-a-menace

[1863-project]

Thinking a bit about baseball and how it runs in my family so thoroughly on both sides.

My dad's father was such a good amateur third baseman that he was scouted by the Yankees. We have a letter from the team inviting him to tryouts. But he'd just started a family at the time and the Minor League life is rough, and it was rougher still in the 1950s, so he remained an amateur player who nevertheless had a deep love of the game. He apparently met and played with Willie Mays during the Korean War when he was stationed stateside. He got Mays to etch his name on the strap of his helmet. We still have that, too.

(Image description: the author's paternal grandfather in a right-handed batting stance.)

On my mom's side things were entertaining. My mom's grandfather was a New York (later SF) Giants fan. He and his wife had three children, who they raised in the Bronx. The oldest, my grandmother, was a Giants fan like him. The middle child, my great-aunt, decided she had to be different and adopted the Brooklyn Dodgers. The youngest child, my great-uncle, furthered that and became a Yankees fan.

Allegedly, according to my great-aunt, my great-grandfather predicted the Giants, then behind, would win the National League pennant in 1951. She was incredulous because at the time the Dodgers were well in first place. Until they weren't.

[Video description: Giants third baseman Bobby Thomson clobbers a 3-run homer off of Dodgers pitcher Ralph Branca to win the 1951 National League pennant. This moment is known as The Shot Heard Round The World and the radio call only survives because a fan was at work during the game and had his mom record it off the radio for him.]

This family arrangement continued for a few more years until the Dodgers and Giants left for California in the late 1950s, and the National League members of the family drifted until 1962, when the Mets started playing. My grandmother and great-aunt both picked them up immediately and it's been that way on my mom's side ever since - the people descended from my grandmother and great-aunt are Mets fans, and the people descended from my great-uncle are Yankees fans.

[Image description: the man who somehow knew the Giants would win the 1951 pennant carrying his firstborn child, my grandmother, on his back on all fours, likely in 1932.]

Grandma Dot was a deeply passionate Mets fan and passed that trait to her daughter, who at one point had a huge baseball card collection and knew the Mets's stats better than all the boys in her school. My mom experienced her first World Series win at the age of 10 in 1969 and from there she would be loyal forever. She and my dad were married a few days after the Mets's second World Series win in 1986 and my younger brother and I would be raised on stories of that team during our early years.

[Image description: the author and her brother photographed from the back at Citi Field. The author is wearing a Gary Carter jersey and her brother is wearing a Mookie Wilson jersey.]

Although I get baseball from both sides of my family, the intense passion for National League baseball in New York has been passed down matrilineally, from my grandmother to my mother to me, and I cherish that deeply. I'm the culmination of three generations of baseball-loving women and I think that's actually really cool.

I'm mostly writing this because I don't quite want to let this Mets team go yet. They were so much fun this year and I already miss them so much, and they took us so much farther than anyone expected. 2024 wasn't our year, but it was one hell of a year and I love this cast of characters a lot.

This World Series would have divided my grandmother's family in the 1950s. Not so much today, since the Mets aren't there, but the Dodgers and Yankees haven't played in the WS against each other since 1981, and before their move to LA the Dodgers and Yankees met a few times in the 1950s. I wonder what my grandmother's siblings talked about, or if they trash talked each other, or if they gathered around the radio together for the play by play.

I just love how much this sport is literally in my blood.

[riality-check]

platonic hellcheer coparenting part 6! part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5

Chrissy flattens out her skirt and tries to breathe. She shouldn’t be so nervous, standing on the front steps of a home she’s never been to. She can’t even blame her shaking on the cold; it may be the time in March when it’s still blustery and threatening snow, but her thermal tights and sweater do their job well.

(Soon, neither of those will fit. Chrissy tries not to think about that. She knows what happens once she starts down that road, and it’s never good.)

No, her shaking is exclusively due to nerves, and she’s perfectly justified in feeling this way.

“There’s nothing to be nervous about,” Eddie says, snapping her out of her thoughts.

“That’s crap, and you know it.”

“No, I know that there’s nothing to be nervous about. So long as you still want to do this.”

He fishes his keys out of his pocket. How he manages to find anything on that cluttered mess of keychains and cards and multiple lanyards, for some reason, Chrissy will never know, but it’s another quirk that makes Eddie, Eddie.

It hasn’t been very long at all, but she’s finding, so far, that she really likes him. Not that she’s ever pictured it before it happened, but she can’t imagine being in this situation with anyone else at her side.

He doesn’t put his keys in the door. He just looks at her, eyes a little wide.

“You do still want to do this, right?” he asks.

“Yeah,” she says.

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to do anything you don’t-”

“Eddie,” she says. “Just because I don’t want to tell my parents-”

Just because I haven’t talked to them in years, she doesn’t say.

“-doesn’t mean we can’t tell your uncle.”

“Yeah, but-”

“Eddie,” she says again. “You’re allowed to want things out of this, too. Okay?”

He smiles. It’s different from the broad, mocking grins she remembers him having in high school. It’s small and almost secret, like he didn’t even realize it made its way onto his face.

She wishes, not for the first time and certainly not for the last, that she could love him like that. It sure would make life a lot easier.

But, Chrissy supposes, I don’t think easy is in the cards.

“Okay,” Eddie says, and he turns the key into the lock. The door creaks open, swinging inside and Chrissy can feel the heat of the house bleed out, just a little bit.

“Wayne!” he calls. “I’m home!”

He takes a step in, motioning for Chrissy to follow.

She does because what else is she supposed to do?

“Living room,” Mr. Munson calls back.

Eddie takes her inside to a cozy home. Straight ahead is a small kitchen with a little table and two chairs. To her left, a coat rack and a hallway. To her right, the living room.

Mr. Munson sits on a recliner. There’s a still-smoking cigarette in the ashtray to his right, and there’s a basketball game on the TV. Chrissy notes idly that the Pacers are losing.

Minus the ashtray, and if the TV were in HD, it could be Chrissy’s living room. The one at her parents’ house. Almost. It’s a little smaller, and the hats on the walls - that’s a lot of hats - make it feel… different.

Better.

Chrissy has been in this house for thirty seconds and already likes it better than the one she grew up in.

She wonders what her mother would say about her being in the trailer park. She finds that she really couldn’t care less, and she’s ecstatic about that fact.

Eddie grabs her hand. Squeezes once. Leads her into the living room.

They sit side by side on the little loveseat parked against the wall. Chrissy almost knocks her knee into Eddie’s, just for a little reassurance, but keeps herself from doing that.

She’s not really sure why.

She gets a good look at Eddie’s uncle this way, though. He’s an average-sized guy, bald, probably in his fifties. He has hard features and keys dangling from his hand and, most startlingly, really blue eyes.

Like, really blue.

She expected them to be more like Eddie’s. It shouldn’t be so much of a surprise - Eddie hasn’t told her too much about his uncle, nothing beyond the fact that he raised him and that he’s living with him again since he came back to Hawkins - but it is.

“How was your day?” Eddie asks.

Mr. Munson turns to the two of them. If he’s surprised to see Chrissy, he doesn’t show it. His face stays perfectly neutral, and his eyes give away nothing.

“Slow,” he says after a minute. “Got some good sleep. Little pissed that my team’s losing. About to head in to work in about an hour. Who’s she?”

He asks the question with the same inflection that he uses to report on his day, so it takes Chrissy a moment to realize that he asked a question.

“Chrissy Cunningham, sir,” she says. She stands up and holds out her hand to shake.

Mr. Munson stares up at her, and his eyes widen just a little bit. Chrissy thinks, though she doesn’t know what it could possibly be, that she’s done something wrong.

But then the corner of his mouth turns up, just a bit, and he stands slowly, taking her hand and giving it a good, firm shake.

“You don’t need to call me sir,” he says, and yeah, there’s definitely an accent of some kind. Southern, but not quite. Chrissy wonders why Eddie doesn’t have it.

“Sorry, Mr. Munson,” she says.

He wrinkles his nose and huffs out a little laugh. “Wayne is just fine. Mr. Munson makes me feel old.”

“You are old,” Eddie says from the couch.

“And you’re a brat,” Mr. Mun - no, Wayne - says, finally letting go of Chrissy’s hand. He says it lightly, like it doesn’t mean anything.

In what used to be Chrissy’s house, that would have meant a lot.

But Eddie laughs, and Wayne smiles, and Chrissy thinks, again, that this house is very different from the one she grew up in.

She sits back down next to Eddie. He knocks his knee into hers, and she knocks it back.

Wayne looks at them, amused. “You his girlfriend, Chrissy?”

“No,” the two of them say in perfect synchronization.

“You sure?” Wayne asks, eyebrows raised, clearly not believing them at all.

“I’m gay, Wayne,” Eddie says. Which. While that’s true, that’s definitely a route to take this conversation.

If Chrissy said that… well. She doesn’t know how that would have gone, specifically. Definitely not well. Maybe to church. Definitely to a therapist, but only one that would have agreed with her mother.

“Okay,” Wayne says with a shrug.

Eddie doesn’t even sigh with relief or do anything of the sort. Chrissy is getting more confused by the second.

“Did you know that?” Wayne asks Chrissy, and it takes her a moment to realize that he’s cracking a joke.

She takes a breath, then says, “Yeah, and I’m a lesbian.”

It feels good to say it out loud. Maybe even better saying it the second time.

Eddie knocks his knee into hers again. She knocks his back.

Wayne snorts. “Okay. Got all of Hawkins’s gay population in this trailer, with us three queers.”

That definitely explains his reactions, then.

Eddie chuckles and rolls his eyes.

“I got a feelin’ that’s not what you wanted to tell me, though,” Wayne says.

Chrissy does the slightly cowardly thing and turns to Eddie, who looks like he’s thinking really hard.

Whatever he comes up with has to be better than what she has, which is nothing.

“Wayne, remember how you’ve always wanted grandkids?” Eddie says.

Chrissy stands corrected.

“Somethin’ tells me that’s a lot less likely now,” Wayne says.

“Yeah, well. Less likely doesn’t mean it’s not happening.”

Chrissy wants to sink into the couch and never be seen again.

“What?” Wayne asks.

“Surprise,” Eddie says weakly. “One grandkid, due in November.”

Wayne turns to Chrissy. “Is he bullshitting me?”

“No, sir,” she says.

“You can drop the sir,” Wayne corrects, almost like it’s habit.

He turns back to both of them. “Do I want to know how-”

“No,” they say in unison.

Wayne nods like he was expecting that.

“You better get used to being called Grampa, because it’ll happen before you know it,” Eddie says.

Wayne smiles, for real this time. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Like you don’t already know,” Eddie says, but he gets up and hugs Wayne bone-crushingly tight. Wayne hugs back just as tight.

Chrissy stays on the couch, watching. The ache she thought she’d feel isn’t that bad. It’s bearable. It’s there, a low thrum deep in her chest, but it doesn’t hurt all that much.

“Chrissy, get over here,” Wayne says.

“What?” she says.

“Get over here,” he says. “You’re family.”

“But we’re not-”

“You’re family,” Wayne says seriously.

“Chrissy, get in before he comes over there,” Eddie warns, but that’s lighthearted, too. 

Chrissy stands up and lets herself be hugged by the two of them. She could get used to family being light.

And, she realizes, I’m gonna make sure mine will be light, too.

[bunny-lou]

Tankhun, oscar winning director

I'm a little buzzed so enjoy this lovely prompt that's running around my head.

So Prapai and Phayu have had such a difficult time dating as the youngest sons in the mafia. Potential partners are scared off by their reputation, their family name, the constant danger that they're in. Or, if someone can see past all that, their fathers/uncles end up ruining it by over interrogating and invasive questions and hostile suspicion.

And Tankhun's heart just breaks. He's witnessed so many amazing love stories on television - and some even in real life! From all of his fantasy couples and OTPs to watching his brothers fall in love with two sweet boys, he simply can NOT have it that his two nephews fall in love. (Yes, two nephews, because any child of Pete's will be spoilt the minute Tankhun walks in the room.)

He just has to come up with a scheme like on television for Phayu and Prapai to have the love story Tankhun deserves to see they deserve to have. Tankhun will be just like a director - he'll write the story and cast the parts and maybe even win an oscar in the end.

First, he has to cast the story, he has to find perfect matches for his nephews. Prapai needs someone who won't let him always get what he wants, someone who has even the potential to be okay with a life as dark as they lead. Phayu needs someone outgoing to bring him out more, someone who won't cower at his overbearing personality. Arm compiles a list of young bachelors and bachelorettes (though he's not sure how the find would react to having a woman marry in) in Bangkok, ones with no connection to rival families, ones that would not be easily persuaded to betray, ones who just may be worthy of holding the hearts of his nephews.

The list is decently long, so then they start to be pickier - only ones that were cute, ones that would look good in future family photos, ones who had nice hands that could maybe carry a family ring one day. It takes a while, but Tankhun divides his time evenly between watching his dramas and creating this drama.

Second, Tankhun has to write a rough draft. He takes a few from the list that he knows wouldn't work and tries some rough ideas out. Phayu is immediately put off by the pretty girl who spills her coffee on him and Prapai doesn't look twice at their cute waitress on their monthly family dinners. There is promise in the boy who stages a minor bicycle accident in front of Phayu and the girl who stumbles into Prapai at the library. Tankhun is working out kinks as fast as he can, writing what he can with the multiple possibilities until -

Third, he has to find a location. And there are a couple of pretty boys and girls from their list that could reasonably bump into either boy - some who work at the local café down the street from Prapai's office or some who have friends who take their cars to Phayu - but there are a few students from Phayu's university who are actually on their list and it's perfect, so many options - tutors, academic rivals, study group partners, meeting at a college party - and Tankhun considers each candidate thoroughly - one girl is voted off when they see her obnoxious Instragram posts, one boy is tossed to the side when they found a history of him filing noise complaints o his neighbors. Nark.

They scour social medias, past report cards, contact very confused neighbors and employers for references until Tankhun has his perfect two. A young man for Prapai and a young man for Phayu.

Tankhun writes the cutest first meet that he can for both - Rain's car will get a flat tire at the same time Phayu will be leaving the compound to head home. Though he could wait until they meet at a university event, but that's plain and predictable and Phayu will note have a boring love story. Tankhun watches from the bushes - well, he's watching on his phone from his bedroom as Arm and Pol film it through the bushes - Phayu is far too chivalrous to not offer to help, just like Tankhun knew! He is charmingly confident and impressive as he works on the car and Tankhun can see the moment Rain is swept off his feet.

Tankhun is pulling the strings for everything - he pays an actor to mention the street race in front of Rain and Sky (because Tankun is already very protective of his future nephew in law and there will be no need for his piece of shit ex to be involved), the guards working the race are instructed to chase Rain and Sky into Phayu and Prapai. It continues on as awkwardly forcing segues with Phayu about this article he read on how to support someone with ADHD or with Prapai about how to be a safe space for people you love. Arm and Pol are there to film all the meetings Tankhun has planned out so Tankhun can keep up with his favorite romcom starring this nephews.

But it's not enough, Tankhun has to experience this first hand, so he just happens to leave a magazine open on a page advertising a car show in Phayu's room at the same time he works up the nerve to go outside the compound - it still happens, but not all the time - and Tankhun had no idea car shows could be so fun, everything is so shiny and sparkly and -

"What are you doing here?"

"Oh, my favorite nephew! I came to...buy your uncle Porsche a new bike, of course! Who is this cutie hanging off your arm?"

It's Rain, twenty years old from Korea, only child of two parents married in 1998, an architecture major with a 2.76 GPA, blood type A+, no troubles with the law besides a speeding ticket last year, speaks four languages.

But Tankhun doesn't say any of that out loud. He already approves of Rain, already loves him, and he's going to be the favorite uncle and Tankhun chokes up when he realizes he's the first member of the family to meet their newest member.

And he plans the same thing with Sky - a few weeks later to recharge from going outside - mentioning in front of Sky a new restaurant to offer egg stew (because Tankhun paid them to put it on the menu). He waltzes in as Prapai and Sky get their food and prepare to eat.

"Oh, my favorite nephew! I'm here...to try their new egg stew of course! I saw you and your friend here already ordered some, how is it, scooch over so I can sit with you, move, move."

Tankhun gives Sky his most charming smile and he's already planning Sky's outfit for their Christmas card this year. As he sits there getting to gush over Prapai and Sky, Tankhun chokes up again as he realizes he's a guest star in his favorite show now. He's been a guest star twice.

And he knows how the family can be, so Tankhun keeps orchestrating more meet ups with the rest of the family so that his two new in-laws can grow to accept their quirky family. He takes Chay out and they run into Rain at the library, he takes Pete to bump into Sky at the mall, he takes Kinn to visit Phayu at the garage while Rain is visiting, he invites Kim to find Sky at a cafe by the school because Kim has known about Rain and Sky the whole time. Little shit. Someone should talk to him about how many secrets he's keeping from the family.

I don't know where this is going because I'm a little inebriated, but like, Tankhun plotting out the PhayuRain and PraSki romance because he loves his dramas, but also because he wants to make sure his nephews fall in love with good people and ensure no one hurts them. He uses his decades of knowledge about dramas and on screen romances to create the best love story he can.

[ughgoaway]

first anon so I'm a bit nervous 😭, but I've been thinking about this all day

teacher girlie and annie making matty a valentine's day card (or some sort of craft)!! I'm thinking it would be something very cutesy pinterest diy because teacher girlie is a teacher (obviously), and she probably has pinterest boards FULL of cute little holiday crafts she wants to do with the kids!! - 🎸

omg welcome!!! first anon?? please, I am BLESSED! welcome to the chaos that is my blog, I am very happy to have you contributing to it :))))

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now... I'm feeling emo today, and I love a bit of pining SO, I'm thinking pre-dating here. as you said, you're a teacher, so you always do holiday crafts for the kids, and valentines is no different! for today, the kids have a few options, they can make a card, make some paper chain hearts, and they all get a rock that they can make a heart out of their fingerprints on!

(this is the vibe with the rock craft lol)

you have separate Pinterest boards for every holiday, and each one is filled with little activities. (Once you and matty do get together, he does make fun of you slightly for this... but he also has the time of his life when you practice them at home and rope him into it.)

but back to pre-dating time, you are mopey all day. you try to be upbeat for the kids, but it's hard when you're in love with a person who you absolutely can not date, and who has no feelings for you. (or so you think...)

most of the kids are oblivious to your feelings but not Annie, so she ends up dragging you around with her all day and doing the crafts as your co-teacher handles the rest of them. now, she's trying to be thoughtful, which you appreciate endlessly, but it's agony sitting with her all day.

little Annie healy is a carbon copy of her father. the same curly hair, mischievous smile, and cheeky laugh. so instead of distracting you from thinking about matty, it only makes it 100 x worse. especially because she won't stop chattering away about him and telling you about how she's going to give alllll of this to her dad.

you help her with the paper chains first, she folds them up and you glue them together, and she is quite happily nattering away.

"my daddy is going to hang these in the studio i think. he would put them over his bed, but he has too many pictures hanging over it already." she nods assuredly, which only makes you daydream about what mattys bed looks like. (and what he looks like in it)

"oh that's nice! Will your daddy's friends like them too?" it pains you to even talk about Matty today, so you're hoping she'll start talking about the boys and their partners.

"Oh yeah! my auntie charli and uncle George are going to really like them. They're having a posh dinner, not McDonald's or anything!" she then chatters on about the Hann's plans (dropping baby hann of with their mum and going to the cinema) and uncle Ross and his girlfriends valentines day (going to the theatre and then more fancy dinner.)

then, she goes onto matty, "but my daddy doesn't have a girlfriend, so he's not doing anything. but uncle George says he should "get over himself and ask her out" so I think he likes a girllllll" she drops her voice as low as it can go when she imitates George, and giggles when she mentions her dad having a crush.

to say you feel fucking heartbroken is an understatement. she really got your hopes up there by mentioning he was single, only to shoot them back down by saying he has a crush. and you'd swear you could almost see her face if you thought hard enough; young blonde model, 5"10 and 90% legs, wears beautiful clothes and laughs slightly too hard at all of his jokes. and they're both fucking smitten with each other, totally in awe of their collective beauty.

you do the rock craft next, and annie insits that one of the fingerprints is yours, so you do it. but it does feel like a dagger to the chest. Yet, it somehow gets even worse when she demands you sign the card too, "but you helped me miss y/n! you have to put your name too!"

so you scribble down your name with a strained smile and tuck it away in the envelope, trying to not let your soul die in the process.

soon enough, it's pickup time, and annie is the last one. Matty is usually late, but you can't stop thinking of why he's late today. did he ask the girl he likes out? did she say yes? maybe they're planning a date right now. or kissing and being all stupid and happy.

ugh.

but matty rocks up, thankfully alone and with a small gift bag in his hands. probably for his beautiful girlfriend you think briefly, but you manage to plaster on a fake smile and greet him.

"hi matty!" you smile, watching Annie run over and give him a hug.

"oof, hi peanut! you have a good day?" he flicks his eyes up to you and mouths "sorry" he knew he was a few minutes late, but you waved him off and gave him an gentle grin.

"yeah! I made you sooo many things today, daddy. miss y/n helped too!" Annie is scooped up into matty's arms as she chatters away, describing everything she did in detail.

"Right, Munchkin, we've got to go to Uncle Adam's house and get your cousin! his grandma can't look after him anymore, so we're having a sleepover!" Annie squeals quite happily at this information, and you feel like you could too. you highly doubt mattys got a hot date whilst baby sitting two children under 10, so any image of a hot model falling off his arm is wiped from your mind.

"oh here you go by the way y/n, happy valentines" matty says with a smile, handing over the small bag with a nervous grin on his face.

you try to act slightly cooler than you feel when you accept it, and if it was any one else they would see right through you, but matty was so blinded by nerves he didn't notice anything.

"Wow! thank you so much, that's really kind of you. " Your heart is racing in your chest, as is Matty's. if anyone were around you and saw the lovesick look in both your eyes, they would know exactly what you were both thinking. but you were alone, so it stayed unspoken and unnoticed.

matty gives you a shy wave, and walks off with Annie in his arms. leaving you shell-shocked and holding that little bag full of mystery.