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sinofwriting · 16 days ago

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Sex Positive - Charles Leclerc

Words: 2,470 Summary: Y/N goes on a podcast to talk about one thing and one thing only, sex. Note(s): NSFW just because this is just all sex talk, no actual sex, but it is the main topic of discussion. Part SMAU

Masterlist | Support Me!

“Y/N Y/L/N”

She smiles at the sound of her name, adjusting her headphones a bit until they finally seem to sit snug on her head.

“Welcome to the sex positive podcast.”

“Thank you for having me!”

“Thank you for coming on!” Elaine says. “When I reached out, I had hoped you would come on, but was shocked when you said yes.”

“I had to come on. We’ve known each other now for like two years?” Elaine nods at her words. “And yet despite that and this podcast doing so well, which by the way congrats on the new milestone. 250k is insane, and your profession we’ve never once talked about sex.”

“We have not.” Elaine laughs. “Probably because we also run into each other at events and dinners. Not the best place for me to ask how you feel about sex.”

“Well, I should tell you, I am coming on here to actually talk about how much I hate sex.” She says, ending her sentence with an eye roll, as she adjusts how she’s sitting, not even noticing her cardigan slip.

“Oh, yeah.” Elaine nods. “You hate sex.” She then nods to her left shoulder and her eyes drop and she lets out a laugh, seeing the love bites now exposed from the cardigan slipping.

“Like I said, I hate it.” She laughs.

“How is your relationship with sex? I mean, what has your experience been with it?”

She considers for a moment, “I’d say I have a good relationship with sex. It was never a topic that was shied away from when I was younger. My parents both gave me the talk, they made sure that I felt safe and comfortable to talk to them about it. They also never shied away from talking about how they had sex before they were adults, so if I did, they understood. All they asked was that I was safe.”

“And you think that’s helped?”

“Of course.” She nods. “I mean, I was sixteen when I had sex for the first time. Which was before all my friends and after that I was the one my girl friends came to for condoms and advice.”

“Was it good?”

She makes a face, “I mean, I think it was as good as two sixteen-year-olds having sex for the first time can be. A little awkward, some fumbling, finishing so quick.”

Elaine laughs, “Y’know that probably is as good as it can get.��

“Yeah.” She laughs.

“Were you like okay, I had sex this first time, I’ve experienced it, I’m good, or was it like me where you wanted to explore more.”

“Oh, I wanted to explore more. I didn’t have sex again for, I think like another two years. But I did so much self exploring. Just trying to see what I liked, what I was interested in, what I wasn’t interested in.”

“Porn?”

“Yes, there was quite a large amount of porn being watched. I read a lot of adult novels, guides, blogs, really just anything I could get my hands on.”

Elaine nods, tucking a leg underneath herself as she adjusts the microphone to be a little closer. “And this is something I’m curious about, how do you feel about porn? It’s something a lot of people are divided on, a lot of women especially.”

“I like porn. I enjoy it. Either just watching for pleasure or for research.” And she puts the last word in air quotes. “And please people listening or watching, if you see something you like in porn or are interested in, and this applies if you are reading something as well, look it up, read some guides and blog posts about it before doing it yourself. Just be safe.”

“Oh, please be safe. We have our own blog where we talk about different kinks, positions, various things and I urge you, along with everyone else who works on this podcast, to be safe with yourself and others.” Elaine says, addressing the camera before looking back at her. “So, you like porn.”

“Yes. Obviously not all porn is good, there are bad studios, there are overdone tropes, issues with the industry itself with it continuing to promote certain things because it earns them so much money. But I do enjoy it. It’s an industry that is always going to get criticized and hated and it deserves some of those criticisms without a doubt.”

“As a sex therapist, I do try to veer my clients away from porn, most of the time. And that’s mainly due to the acting of it. But it has its place in helping you learn and educate yourself. My issue is when people only look at porn and don’t look into things further.”

“Yeah, a hundred percent. It’s so important to not just take away things from porn but to take things away and expand on what you saw.” She nods.

“And of course I have to ask, what do you yourself like to watch in porn?”

“Hmm.” She thinks. “I think it depends on my mood. I think what I normally go for is something a little more rough. I’ve never really enjoyed watching people have like slow, gentle sex, not unless there’s something else there like overstimulation.”

“So, you like it rough?” Elaine asks.

She laughs, “Yes. It wasn’t something I had ever tried out before though until my current partner.”

“Really?”

She nods, “Really! I can admit that with my current partner, Charles, is where I’ve done a lot of exploring with someone else sexually. We’ve tried out many things.”

“Anything you guys didn’t like?”

“We don’t care for titles or honorifics.”

“You are crushing some dreams with that statement.”

“I know.” She laughs, well aware of the many tweets and things about wanting to call Charles daddy or sir. But it was just something that didn’t work for them in bed. The most was sometimes as a tease, she’d call him Mr. Leclerc and that was mainly to wind him up, not because the word itself was a turn on.

“What about things you’ve both enjoyed?”

“Oh, where to begin.” She teases, the both of them laughing. “Roleplay is one, bondage, edging, overstimulation. And I don’t consider this sex, but it is something we both enjoy a lot, cock warming.”

“That is quite the list.”

“Oh, just the tip of the iceberg.”

“Talk me through some of it. Bondage?”

“Yes. This was something we both had come into the relationship having never done before and wanting to do. We have the actual like rope you're supposed to use for when we do it, though sometimes we have used other things.”

Elaine shakes her head, grinning. “Of course you two have. I feel like if I see you two together, you’re always attached.”

“Pretty much. We both enjoy touch and Charles, despite all the interest in his personal life and how much already is exposed to the public, doesn't mind holding my hand or hugging or kissing me while in public.”

“Was that a worry of yours?” Elaine asks.

“Absolutely.” She nods, fingers interlacing. “I knew he’d at least, when I went to my first race, that he’d hold my hand, but I figured that might be it. And I didn’t want to bring it up since me going to Baku was so last minute for the both of us.”

“I’ve seen photos from that race and I would have never guessed that it was a last minute decision or that you two hadn’t talked about that yet.”

“Yeah, I got on a plane and was there by 11pm on Wednesday night, and the plane tickets had gotten bought maybe six hours before the plane took off. Charles had to send a photo of my ID to the front desk and had a spare key for me waiting since he had to be asleep already.”

“And then the next day, I mean you guys were very loved up.”

She grins, “we very much were. I think Charles knew I was nervous. We hadn’t officially been spotted together and he’s such a comforting person, very calming, so it was easy to not feel anxious with him holding me and pressing a kiss to my cheek every few minutes as y’know a bunch of people were taking photos of me and I’m being introduced to about a hundred people.”

“Which is overwhelming to say the least.”

“So overwhelming.” She nods.

“Though you might’ve liked that, since you’ve brought up overstimulation a few times.”

Her hands come up to hide her face, laughing into them, before they fall back into her lap. “I’d apologize, but I like what I like.”

“So it’s you being overstimulated.”

“Oh, absolutely. I find it very enjoyable.”

“I’ve never actually really talked about overstimulation, what is that you like about it? That you find to be enjoyable?”

“It’s the near constant feeling of too much, it’s so much pleasure just back to back, and everything depending on how you're doing it, can feel just like raw? And exposed? And you don’t think you can orgasm one more time, you just can’t again, but then you can and it feels at least in my experience just so good and then you do it again and again, and every time the pleasure of it just washing over you is even more and more and it’s the only thing you can focus on, everything else just fades away.”

“You make me want to try it.” Elaine laughs.

—

Charles’ head immediately perks up when he hears the hotel door open. “Chérie! How was the podcast?”

She smiles, setting her bag down, before moving over to the couch where Charles is sitting and happily sitting in his lap before Charles can pull her down. “It was good.” She finally says after kissing him.

He hums, “How good?”

She thinks, playfully humming as her fingers run through his hair. “Very good. I think your fans will want to kill me and so will Ferrari.”

He frowns, arms tightening around her. “Ferrari knows that you are allowed to do as you’d like. It is not like with,” He stops himself.

“I know, Charles.” She soothes. “But, they will be upset with me considering me talking about my sex life is talking about your sex life.”

He huffs, obviously not liking it, but he hopes that the podcast will do well, be received well, so at least Ferrari will be forced to accept it because fans like it.

“Did you mention me?”

Her eyebrow raises, “No. I want on a podcast to talk about my sex life so you obviously didn’t come up.”

He pouts at the tease and she can’t resist pressing a kiss to his pouty lips.

“Yes, I mentioned you. Multiple times and by name.”

He hums, moving his hands under her cardigan and top. “What did you say?”

“That we’ve done a lot of things together. That we like certain things.”

When she had accepted the invite it was only after a long talk with Charles, one she had to force, to go over what she could and couldn’t mention. Charles had been fine with her mentioning whatever she wanted. Uncaring that it would be out for the world to see, his colleagues, friends, and even family if for some reason they decided to click on it. He had stuck by that after their talk, though had asked her to keep most of the details of their roleplay and their love of rough sex to a minimum.

And it had been easy to not talk about what kind of roleplay they did and while rough sex had been mentioned twice, they were brief, just establishing her love of it.

“It did make me want to roleplay our favorite thing again.”

His eyes light up at her words.

It wasn’t often something they did, their favorite roleplay scenario, not when it required her to be in a certain headspace to really work, but she wants and craves it so much.

“You want to be my innocent little girl?” His voice has a bit of rasp, his fingers resting on her back, stretching out.

“Yes.” She breathes.

He leans forward, giving her a hungry kiss, his and her last chance to lose control, before pulling away. “Go get ready for me, bébé. I’ll find a place to have dinner.”

---

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula x reader #sins fics

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winterzsurprise · 3 months ago

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Change My Mind [1]

Pairing: BTS x reader

SUMMARY: As a make-up artist, you were expected to glamorize your clients with brushes and products that cost a week-worth of food, not to befriend them outside of work, let alone have them save you from dates yet here you are five years later as one of their closest confidants.

Being a stylist of the world's biggest boyband is no easy feat, someone is doing flips, someone can't stay still and one's asleep but its fine, you can work around their chaos but then one day, you find out they're all your soulmates, a whole different can of chaos you don't think you can handle.

Tags: Soulmates AU, Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Not Beta Read, Slow Build, Polyamory, Attempts at Humor

Words: 5k

haha heyy I'm back after a year. Still suffering from writer's block so here's the start of a series I created during it, forcing myself to actually write. There's no set schedule but I'll try my best to do it weekly. That is all and pre-save Neva Play :DD

MASTERLIST || Next>>>

__________

Maybe you should've cut off your mother before you went past the age for mark appearances.

If you had then maybe you wouldn't be suffering with the overcompensating rant about an unfortunate man and his bare minimum achievements.

What are you, Bangtan's—The current biggest boyband in the world—makeup artists since their era of wearing thick eyeliners to convey their passion and emo inspired hairstyles, doing, listening to someone's so-called gratifying achievements?

Staring at the source of the grating voice babbling nonsense, you refrain yourself from letting out a heavy sigh.

Jeong Binwoo is a stout man. His roundness is enhanced by the fact that he's an inch or so shorter than you on a good day. His face reminds you of a dumpling, especially now that he's stuffing it with a handful of greasy fries in quick successions. Despite his full mouth, he kept on speaking and you swore a few stray blobs had landed on your plate.

You've only just a week and a half before the start of their tour in Seoul and here you are wasting your time sitting in front of a man whose awareness is limited to only himself when you could've been at work or binging some stupid cliche drama.

Maybe you should've listened to Namjoon's statistical analysis of your dates this year and never bothered going to this meeting as well.

Your mother's recommendations so far had never brought you a man decent enough nor carry an ounce of respect your father has for your mother. Why you still try and date them is a question you've asked yourself one too many times.

His rant was the standard overcompensating life story of a man unfortunate enough to be given an ugly mug and an even uglier fate. A conversation topic you've been subjected to far more often than you'd liked but still smooths out your brain every time you're forced to listen to it. It might not be but it must've been an hour already since he started listing out the same adult milestones he achieved in his 28th year—you've done the same at a younger age, 20 to be exact.

Binwoo reached for your fries shamelessly when his fingers found his bowl empty and you couldn't stop yourself from grimacing this time.

He was actually decent , compared to the other guys you've met before whose mouth spouted bullshit even the devil himself would gasp at. The man actually bought you a gift and opened and held the door for you.

'How disturbing that you think the bare minimum is a sign of a good man, noona.' A voice suspiciously sounding like Namjoon echoes in your head and you sighed for the nth time that afternoon.

If you weren't so weak against your mother's wishes, you would've been doing work instead of putting up with horrid dates over and over again. You'd willingly take on styling an energetic Jungkook at 6am trying to dodge your brushes and play fights with them then sit in front of another insecure man.

A clang of a metal utensil making contact on the tile took your attention to the two men sitting a few tables in front of you. Suddenly, you're reminded of the lovely bodyguards who have volunteered to watch the mess that is your love life for lunch.

You caught one of their gaze when he looked over his shoulder, pitiful, before kicking his friend's leg and picking up his phone.

Immediately, a vibration rang from your bag and you checked the message as discreetly as you could.

[13:24] Mimi: I feel so bad for you, noona. Is this really how guys are like these days? [13:24] Mimi: It's appalling how he thinks finally getting his own space at 28 is impressive. [13:24] Tete: do you need help? Please say yes, I don't think I can sit through the whole date and hear this bull. [13:25] Tete: Just seeing it is mentally scarring enough, I can't imagine how you're feeling as the one that has to actually listen.

"Hey, are you still listening? I hope I'm not talking too much." A voice interrupts before you could reply.

Looking up from your phone, Binwoo's face now displayed a sheepish smile, the smear of ketchup on the edge of his lips not going unnoticed. His greasy hand had reached behind his head to scratch the back of his nape and you had to gather every strength in your body to not grimace when the same fingers he ate with met scalp.

You try not to notice how oily and stiff his hair already looked. You really tried.

You shook your head despite wanting it all to end for the sake of appearing respectful and the man immediately continued his empty boasting, the same hand he scratched his neck returning to claw down at your fries without another thought and immediately your phone pings again.

[13:29] Mimi: did he just [13:29] Mimi: did he just eat with the same hand he scratched with? On your plate of fries? [13:29] Mimi: I'm gonna barf [13:30] Mimi: Please free us from this torture, noona. My heart can only take so much [13:30] Tete: Screw this, we're going back. I can't do this anymore

A screech of a chair being dragged through tile took your attention back to the masked men in front of you and saw the tall and imposing form of Taehyung marching towards your table, brown beanie hiding his dyed hair and a black mask covering half of his face.

"The fucking gull you have to show your face here after you ran away with my heart last week!"

You sigh internally and hope he's not about to choose an embarrassing trope to follow through this time.

If he takes on another dramatic golden-spooned CEO character who throws tantrums when he can't do or get what he wants, you might just stab yourself with the butter knife next to you. Witnessing and being on the receiving end of his tantrums, even if it's acting, in such a public place like the park once is enough.

With a silent wish that Tae has picked a good trope to follow this time, you followed his lead.

Comically widening your eyes, your gaze bounced from Taehyung and Binwoo with a mystified look before sputtering out a reply.

"Wo-Wooyoung! I thought you went back to the states! How's being home again feels like?"

"Is this how you're gonna be? You're just gonna act like everything's alright after you took my youth ?!"

A couple of gasps erupted from the guests around you, in the seas of scandalized reactions there's a burst of hushed giggles from one guy in black from a particular table and you refrain yourself from glaring at his ducked head and shaking shoulders. The phone pointed in your direction didn't go unnoticed, no doubt recording it all from start to finish to send to the group chat as he always does.

Ever your biggest supporter.

At this point, everyone in the restaurant is looking at the three of you. A glance at Binwoo told you of how close you are to freedom. The man has hunched his shoulders, shrinking into himself, trying to disappear from the public gaze while his eyes busied itself by tracing the details on the tiles. He has long stopped from eating now as he hangs his head in embarrassment, ashamed to be associated with you.

"Hey, I'm sorry man. I didn't know you were like that, in your profile it said that you were experienced in hammering."

"I do woodworking, of course I'm amazing at it!"

You hear a dull thud erupt from two tables over. At the edge of your eyes you see Jimin hitting the table with a closed fist, his giggles a little louder; enough to gather a few confused eyes but quiet enough to limit the range to the patrons next to him.

"I-I'm so sorry."

Binwoo flushes before darting out, towing his black suitcase that looked suspiciously light, away from the eyes of everyone in the restaurant and relief floods your body, muscles relaxing as you watch his form disappear behind the partition between the tables and the exit.

You stare up at Taehyung to find him already looking back at you with crinkled eyes past the dim shades he was wearing, his cheekbones poking above the mask as he smiled.

With your date finally out of the shot, Jimin's laughter explodes into loud cackles of a mad man as he stands, stumbling before he manages to approach you both. When he was close enough, he latched onto Tae's arm to stabilize himself as he held up his phone with the camera app open. Immediately, everyone's displeasure echoed in the room at the implication that the intense scene they just witnessed was a part of a vlog.

Despite how much of a spur of a moment their plan seemed, the duo has managed to construct a simple start and conclusion to their plan and you couldn't be more proud of your smart boys.

Taehyung turned to the mass and bowed.

"I'm sorry for disrupting everyone's afternoon, I was just saving my sister from a bad date and decided to make a vlog out of it. We're really sorry." Taehyung exclaimed.

The disturbed patrons' voices grew louder and angrier, a few attempting to approach your little group to possibly get physical.

Next thing you know, Tae's grabbing the paper gift bag your date has given you earlier before reaching to your and Jimin's hand and pulling you both out of the restaurant at full speed with a wide grin, leaving behind indignant screams of 'YA!' . You couldn't stop the laughter from bubbling out of your chest as you three raced down to the stairs, taking the safer and the long way down. You'd regret the decision later once your age kicks in and the ache on your knees comes but the thrill thrumming under your skin keeps you occupied.

They'd probably ban you from ever entering the establishment but for now, you could care less, the place felt too pretentious for you anyways.

The laughter didn't stop even when you entered Taehyung's car, your joined delight bouncing off the small space and when it ceased, a satisfied silence followed. You and Jimin sag to your seats as the giggles die down, arms clutching your stomachs while Taehyung hunches over the wheel.

Even with how ridiculous the youngest decides on how to go about destroying a date, you couldn't deny the overflowing gratitude you hold for the guy for selling his dignity. Although as an idol with an interesting internet background, you doubt he still has one.

"Wow, that went better than I expected."

"I'm never taking you both to my dates again."

Jimin rolled his eyes at you, lips tugged into a grin. "You say that and take us anyways."

"I'm so glad Tae didn't pull another jealous CEO persona, I was so embarrassed that day!"

"Hey! I still got you out so it's not that bad!" Tae protests, turning to the both of you on the backseat. "At least I didn't act like an embarrassing ex that cried and begged on his knees by the outlook!"

Jimin's swat was quick and Tae hissed and gasped dramatically, cradling his arm as if it was broken by the slap.

"Now he's trying to hit me!"

"Nonetheless, we did so well ruining your dates this month, noona. I think we deserve some reward." Jimin's lips tugged up into a sly smile, eyes glimmering with mischief as he suggestively raised his eyebrows.

"You don't have to tell me twice."

Before you returned home, you had Tae stop by the nearest grilling restaurant to treat the two of them to a couple of orders of meat. If Jimin looked like a kicked puppy upon realizing you've misinterpreted his words, you didn't say anything.

In your defense, he didn't specify what he wanted. Even if he did, you wouldn't have entertained his flirty jokes.

Not a minute longer since the three of you had seated yourselves at a secluded corner at the far back of the restaurant did Jimin's phone ring. You didn't have to look at the screen to know it was Jungkook, ever so eager to hear about how his hyungs managed to scare off your date this time.

He treats it like he was watching those public prank videos on the internet but instead of random targets, it was your dates.

When the video call loads in, you are met with the sight of Jungkook and Jin sharing half the screen while the stylists hands tend to their hairs, stuck deciding between leaving a strand astray from their elevated fringes or keeping it neat.

"Hyung, did you manage to do what you were telling me last time?"

Taehyung grinned. "You should've seen how they all reacted!"

As Taehyung recalled the event with exaggerated movements and expressions—with Jimin adding his extraordinarily unique perspective every now and then—the plates full of meat to grill and bowls of rice you ordered came. Immediately, they were recognized by the waitress who bowed her head at them before shyly asking for an autograph. If you felt her eyes burning a hole through your skull throughout the encounter, you pretend not to notice.

You've introduced yourself as their make-up artist early on in their career, sneaking into their hearts with behind-the-scenes photographs of their idols. A few photographs in exchange of their respect which the boys and the company allowed. Even then, you wouldn't be able to avoid exchanges like these.

Once the waitress was gone, the boys continued to delight the others with their tales. They laughed and expressed their disgust, picking apart your date piece by piece down to his last molecule but as they continued noting down their observations, you started to feel that they're making up random facts out of spite.

Like, what do you mean you saw the guy kept wiggling in his seat to subtly scratch his ass? How did you even see that, Jimin?

But due to them sneaking out to be your guard dogs, they were called to return soon by an unimpressed Namjoon who took over the phone call at some point, threatening them with Hoseok who just laughed in response. You didn't miss the opportunity to rub your week-long rest in their faces with a smile when Taehyung and Jimin tried pouting their way out of punishment.

They ended up being given the chance to at least finish their food before they're given the countdown when Jimin bribed them with takeout.

"Come with us to drink that memory away instead, noona! Hyung and I are better drinking buddies anyways."

You waved Hoseok off. "I don't think Sejin would appreciate me distracting you guys more than I already do."

"Look into my eyes and say that you don't want to drink the memory away!" Yoongi said matter-of-factly from somewhere in the background.

"We won't even drink much, promise!"

"Stop lying to yourself, Hoba. We know you'd tap out after the third glass." Jin snickered.

"Hey, I've changed! I can do four now."

Before you could further shoot his idea down, your phone flashes open with a ring displaying your mother's name and your heart drops. As if sensing the change in the air, their heads perked up to look at you.

You knew she'll contact you eventually but seeing her name on the screen glare back at you, a shiver wracks down your spine.

"Who is it?"

"It's my mom."

Jimin and Taehyung gasped, shushing the people on the other line like kids trying to hide a stray pet from their parents who came home as you answered the call.

"Hello my dearest daughter, tell me why the hell did Binwoo's mother just call me to tell me that you've been going around stealing people's youths?! I don't remember raising you to be such a person!"

Despite not having the call on speaker, her rage is loud enough for the other two to hear. Instead of sending pitying looks towards you like a proper friend should, they were grinning and trying to stop themselves from cackling. Your mother's screeching evolved into rapid fire scolding with barely any breathing in between, sending your companions into silent laughter.

You could only glare as Taehyung threw his head back as he guffawed noiselessly while Jimin had hunched over the table, his shaking shoulders being the only indicator that he too was laughing.

Kicking them both under the table, you gathered the courage to interrupt your mother so she could breathe.

"Mom, it was just a friend who wanted to save me from Binwoo."

"A friend?!? A friend my foot! He must be an-uh what do you call it these days—a friend with benefits! Here I thought you've been busy fussing over those Bangtan boys to fool around!"

At this, their ears perked up, attention falling to yours.

"God! If you just started dating them then I wouldn't have to stress myself over finding you a husband!"

Taehyung sobers up, playing with the meat on the grill as he whispers. "Oh I wish auntie but noona is too professi—ow!"

Your foot swiftly connects with his shin and Taehyung hunches over the table, hand disappearing down to cradle his foot.

"I assure you, Mom, if you've seen how he acted, you'd thank your daughter for dodging such a disgusting guy. He didn't even ask me permission to eat my fries!"

"Aishhhhh! If you were here I would've hung you upside down in a sack outside our house! God, I'm gonna have a cardiac arrest because of you!"

"The guy is really my friend, mom! It's the same guy who interrupted my dates before. Remember the crazy CEO?"

"I know I know! But with how picky you are, you'll end up alone! I know you're trying to wait for your soulmate but you're 26 now! You're way past the maximum marking age!"

Taehyung and Jimin fall silent as an awkward silence settles between your group, continuing to place their pork into the leaves and engulfing them almost meekly; almost because the way they ate the wrap is far from graceful.

You've known that for a year now, accepted your fate but the reminder made your heart ache. Imagine how it was for a hopeless romantic, who dreamt of fated meetings and whimsical red strings on your pinkie, to find out that they're untethered. Even then, a small part of you, a much younger version, keeps hoping for a chance that you're just a late bloomer.

Who wouldn't want true love for themselves?

Even a solitary man would crave affection.

"I-I know that. But you can't expect me to settle for less, you wouldn't want to see your dear daughter in a miserable marriage do you?"

There's a deep sigh from the other line and you could imagine your mom pinch the bridge of her nose before she spoke:

"I'm just worried, I hope you understand. I'm not getting any younger. Your older brother and sister already have their own family and seeing them happy while you're still on your own, it hurts this old woman's heart, you know?"

There's a quick succession of dull thuds from across the line and you assumed your mother was hitting her chest with her fist, ever the dramatic.

Jimin flips the newly added meat on the grill, taking the cooked strips to distribute between yours and Taehyung's bowl. It was such a small gesture yet it made your stomach flutter for a second. Always the caring and golden hearted boy you've met years ago that never hesitated to give you hugs and make you smile either with exaggerated movements or from touch alone.

If only there's more Jimin in the world, you would've been married a long time ago and you wouldn't have to deal with your mother's horrible matchmaking.

You sighed. "I know, I'm trying my best so don't worry too much."

"That's my youngest. Now, since you're trying, I have another—"

You pinched the bridge of your nose. "Mom, please."

"I swear this guy is better. He's a lawyer, 30 years old, and he's got a penthouse!"

There's a shrill ding! from your phone and you turned to look at your screen to find yourself staring back at a picture of the suitor your mother was just talking about. In a blink, Jimin and Taehyung have teleported behind you with side dishes in hand as they peered over your shoulder to look at the photo.

The picture was roughly cropped and showed a man in a tailored black suit leaning against what looks like his mother from how similar the shape of their eyes and lips are. He had his coat hanging from his arm, giving you a full view of how his chest and shoulders filled out his white button up. With a narrow and refined jawline, topped off with good hair waxed into a small quiff and a pair of sunken dimples on each side of his bowstring lips, as an idol's makeup artist, you wondered how it is possible for him to be single.

But what distracted you more was how your mother has sent you someone visually appealing instead of the challenged men she had recommended to you. It's making the ends of the hair on your arm stand up.

It's new and it's creeping you out.

You make a mental note to ask your father about her strange behavior.

"His name is Yoo Guwon, isn't he good looking? His mother and I met at the salon by the market in front of your aunt Jia. I saw him once and he looks exactly like he does in that picture!"

"He looks good."

A hiss following a slap muted by thick clothing erupted from behind you, looking over your shoulder, you see Taehyung staring at Jimin with a shocked and betrayed expression.

"What are you doing?! You're supposed to be against this!"

"Well now that you've mentioned it," Jimin hums, crossing his arms as he leaned closer over your shoulders. "He does look like a manipulator. He has the eye and facial structure for it."

You turned to him with a puzzled expression. "What do you even mean—"

"No no no wait, I can see what you mean." Taehyung butts in, narrowing his eyes as he also inched closer to the screen on the other side of your face before reaching over to expand on the man's face.

You furrowed your eyebrows, still not seeing how a skull's formation could mean manipulator in their eyes. But before you could ask how they came to the conclusion, your mother gasped.

"Is that one of your boys? Taehyung and Jimin?"

"Yeah, I took them out for some meat since they saved me earlier."

"Oh? Put me on speaker, I want to talk to them!" You obeyed her and hummed a confirmation before holding your phone towards them. "I hope my daughter hasn't disrupted your busy schedules to play jealous exes for her."

Jimin laughs. "It's nothing too much, auntie~ She took great care of us back then, it's just us repaying the debt! Besides, I like watching her fail her dates!"

"Oh aren't you quite mischievous?" Her tone was teasing and delighted as she giggled. "Don't enjoy it too much, okay? My daughter needs to get married soon!"

"Don't worry too much, auntie! I also want our noona to find a good husband!"

"What a sweet boy! Too bad company rules can't let you date, I would've loved you as my son-in-law."

A smile stretched across Jimin's face as he shyly laughed, hiding his delight behind a hand. "You can't say that and expect me to not try and court your daughter, auntie!"

"What about me, auntie? I sold my dignity just to push away her creepy suitors when hyung only sat back to record. I did a lot!" Taehyung jumps in with a pout, feeling left out of the conversation.

"Any of you boys are welcome in my family as long as my daughter is married and treated well! Ok, I'll stop now since I have some friends to meet up with. Visit me soon, my lovely daughter!"

After saying your goodbyes and your i-love-you's, the call ends. Immediately, your phone was fished out from your hands by Taehyung as the two boys returned to their seats, zooming in on Guwon's face and speaking in hushed whispers among themselves. At least until Jin and Jungkook's insistence to be included in the discussion came booming.

"Ya Taehyung! Aren't we friends for so long? Why are you not showing us the picture like a normal friend would do? Forward it to the GC!"

Even after forwarding the picture to the GC, they're still far from pleased after being ignored for so long. Jungkook and Jin didn't spare any words from expressing their wrath, especially the elder. A problem easily buried for everyone to forget with an offer of bringing food when they come home. Your mother expressing her openness to the idea of having any of your bosses as your husband seems to breeze past their heads. You do have an inkling they'll discuss amongst themselves later on.

Soon, Jimin and Taehyung are dropping you at your apartment building, parting ways with hugs before they leave.

Since you've finally claimed some of the absent days you've gathered throughout the years for a nice week off before the eventual tour, you decided to take full advantage of it by treating yourself with a nice night in, stuffing yourself with ice cream and an unhealthy amount of pizzas. Doors locked and blinds shut.

Just you and your TV.

And the generic drama that's playing before you.

It's about a poor girl who got rescued by a handsome rich man who has an obsessed admirer and a family who opposes their relationship despite the soulmate mark they both wore due to their different levels in society.

The trope has been overused but you indulge in it anyways.

But as the night gets deeper and the plot thickens to its climax, you find yourself slowly liking it. Watching the young couple be domestic around their apartment, your heart starts to yearn. Their kisses looked fantastical and sweet, as if the taste of each other could energize them for the whole month.

You watched as brief passing touches scream louder than words, eyed the way their arms wrapped around waists with jealousy and wondered when you'd be able to experience such a thing too.

Emotional torture is what you're doing but you couldn't find it in yourself to stop watching it.

You remembered how realization felt like plunging into the darkest depths in the ocean, cold and harsh, the pain in your chest when your 21st passed by without any notable changes in your life.

You recalled how you'd wake up and excitedly look over your skin for a hint everyday with no fail, hoping for a telltale sign that you weren't assigned to a fate of love bare of the genuine and rawness of a soulbond. The devastation gnawing at your dreams when your 21st ends uneventfully and the 22nd comes with the same nothingness still fresh in your mind.

There wasn't a cure for being untethered but you learned soon how to accept your fate. Having your friends comfort you through those years helped. From the maknaes' grounding tight hugs to Yoongi's silent support in the form of distractions and Seokjin's insistence on how unimportant soulmates are, healing came easier with them by your side.

Being untethered or alone isn't a disease cured by human medicine but you think your friends' support came close.

Your phone then vibrates, taking you out of the train of thought you got yourself into, screen lighting up to a message from an unknown user.

[21:39] Unknown: Hey, it's me Yoo Guwon. Your mother gave me your number and said to contact you first because you might be busy with work.

None of the suitors your mother has brought forth has ever worked out. At this point, you should ask her to stop and try to find a good man yourself.

But none of them ever made the effort to reach out first.

But he's a lawyer and you know damn well what they're good at .

He looks cute and tall though, got a good background as well.

Everyone before him also had that.

With a heavy exhale, you picked your phone up and opened his message.

[21:40] You: Hello, I'm actually on a week-long break so I'm just rotting on my couch instead haha

"That's too awkward." You muttered to yourself, subconsciously biting your lips as you rephrased the message a couple more times, frantically deleting and adding words onto your ever growing introduction message.

But then it's too wordy, it makes you sound desperate so you deleted it all again, starting once more from the beginning.

You didn't even get to send it when Guwon sent another message.

[21:48] Yoo Guwon: I'm free tomorrow, I hope you are too. What do you usually like to do?

He's giving me options? You stared at the screen with furrowed eyebrows before narrowing at it suspiciously.

What's up with this guy? Why isn't he taking the lead?

[21:50] You: I'm more often working and staying at home than visiting places so I don't know where ;-;. I'll go wherever you want to go. [21:51] Yoo Guwon: It's fine, just send me your address and I'll pick you up tomorrow at 9am, dress formal casual.

Throwing your phone to the side, you reached for the canned beer from your table and took a long sip before titling your head back to stare at the ceiling. There's a careful rise in your heartbeat, a traitorous action of your body. It was hopeful and you hated how you felt like that, you sighed again for the nth time that day but for a different reason.

Your mind takes you back to the mischievous duo, wondering if you should take one of them for this date but find yourself shutting the idea down as quick as it came. The guy looks decent enough for a solo adventure, going alone shouldn't hurt.

Maybe this time will be different.

#bts x reader #bts x you #bts x fem!reader #bts x y/n #kim namjoon x reader #kim seokjin x reader #min yoongi x reader #jung hoseok x reader #park jimin x reader #kim taehyung x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #soulmate au #bts x reader poly #ot7 x reader

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max1461 · 2 months ago

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I guess at some level I feel like the thing where people aren't reaching typical milestones of adulthood until 5~10 years after they used to is in-and-of-itself good, it's just that humans need to live like five times longer. Like in a truly ideal world we'd live to be 1000 and "childhood" would last till we were like 50, enough time to figure shit out, if you're savvy, instead of being thrust into the adult world unprepared as we all have been for all of human history, and then you still get more percentage of adulthood per human life than we presently get.

I'm an elfist. I think we would be better off as elves...

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trans-axolotl · 5 months ago

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ID: Intersex activist Max Beck standing in front of the American Academy of Pediatrics with a sign that says Silence=Death.

On October 26th, 1996, the first ever protest for intersex liberation in America took place when activists from Hermaphrodites With Attitude took to the streets to protest the American Academy of Pediatrics. Later memorialized as intersex awareness day, this important action was a milestone for the American intersex movement. Max Beck, one of the intersex activists from HWA, documented the entire protest and later published their recollection in the Intersex Awakening Issue of the Chrysalis Journal. The full piece is pasted under the cut.

"But we’re here today to say we’re back, we’re no longer lost, and we’d like to offer some feedback. We’re here to say that the treatment paradigm for “managing” intersexuals is in desperate, urgent need of re-examination. We’re back to say that early surgical intervention leads to more than “just” physical scars and sexual dysfunction. We’re back to say that the lack of education and counseling for intersexuals, our families and the community at large does not lead to a blissful, healthy, well-adjusted ignorance. Rather, it too often leads to a life-threatening shroud of silence, secrecy, and self-hatred.

I’m here representing over one hundred fifty intersexals throughout North America. One hundred fifty intersexuals are saying: Please! Listen! You doctors, you pediatric endocrinologists and urologists treating intersexuals, you nurses interacting with intersexuals and their families, listen to us! We understand intersexuality, not because we have studied the medical literature — although many of us have — not because we have performed surgeries, but because we have been grappling with intersexuality every day of our lives. We’re here to say that those who would have us believe that intersexuality is rare, cloud the issue by breaking us and separating us into narrow etiological categories which have little meaning in terms of our actual, lived experience.

We’re here so that other intersexuals can find us — for many of us, finding others like ourselves has been a lifealtering, even life-saving, experience. We’re here to reach parents before their intersex child is born. We’re here to elicit the help of other sympathetic professionals. We can take a stand as openly intersex adults without being crushed by shame! And we did!"

Hermaphrodites With Attitude Take to the Streets: By Max Beck, 1997

In late October of 1996, Hermaphrodites with Attitude took to the streets, in the first public demonstration by intersexuals in modern history. On a glorious fall day, the like of which you can only find in New England, under a crackling, cloudless sky, twenty-odd protesters joined forces to picket the Annual Meeting of the American Academy of Pediatricians in Boston. Deeply aware of the historical and personal significance of the action, and — correctly — surmising that a notebook diary would not be practical on such a whirlwind, windy week-end, I took a small hand-held tape recorder with me. What follows are excerpts from the resulting transcript.

October 24, 1996 2:45 PM, Atlanta’s Hartsfield International Airport

The trip has only just begun and I am already exhausted. Hot. Starving. Fifteen minutes until take-off. Every businessman boarding the plane looks like a pediatric endocrinologist, Boston-bound. Silly thought, testimony to what? My anxiety? My fear? My giddy anticipation? If these bespectacled, suit-and-tie sporting men were pediatricians, would they be flying coach on Continental, with a layover in Newark? I’m headed for Boston, for the Annual Meeting of the American Academy of Pediatricians (AAP). Tens of thousands of pediatricians. I’m not a pediatrician, though, nor am I a nurse; in fact, I barely managed to complete my B.A. I’m a manager of a technical laboratory. We don’t work with children, and the AAP certainly didn't invite me, so why am I going?

With the plane taxiing toward take-off, this is a lousy time to reassess. I’m going. I’m going because I am intersexed. I’m going because the doctors and nurses who treated me as an infant and a child and an adolescent, and those who continue to treat intersexed infants and children today, consider me “lost to follow-up.” I was lost— that’s part of the problem. Now, I’m back.

9:02 PM: Boston’s North End

I’m comfortably ensconced in Alice’s warehouse condo in Boston’s North End, a renovated warehouse with a view of the city skyline, ceilings easily twenty feet high, exposed beams and brick, gorgeous tile floor. As I speak, my hostess is preparing an absolutely phenomenal meal. The aroma of roasted peppers permeates the entire space. Tomorrow, the work begins; my project this evening is to unwind and enjoy this wonderful meal. Easier said than done. I’m feeling excited, enervated, I feel very alive, something I don’t feel very often, I feel very present and aware. It could be my exhaustion, it could be the Chardonnay. But I think, rather, that the excitement is anticipation about what we are about to do. Being here, finally being prepared to raise a voice, to be heard, to be seen, a vocal, out, proud hermaphrodite who is standing up to say, “Let’s rethink this, this isn’t working, we’ve been hurt, stop what you’re doing, listen to us!” I’m really looking forward to meeting Morgan at the airport in the morning; it’s always amazing to make eye contact with someone else who has been there.

October 25, 7:38 AM Boston Commons

En route to my encounter with the AAP, walking the approximately two miles from my hostess’ domicile to the Marriott Hotel at Copley Square, I pause in the Boston Commons to enjoy a park bench, to sip my Starbuck’s decaf, and to watch a group of senior citizens performing Japanese swordsmanship on top of the hill beneath a monument to some forgotten general. The city is cool this morning, but clear, and it promises to be a beautiful weekend. That’s good: we won’t be rained out. I’ve got a stack of about ninety ISNA brochures in the bag at my side, crammed in the inside pocket of my leather jacket. If I want these pamphlets to get inside, I’ve got to get to the site of the Nurses’ Panel at the Marriott before they close the doors. Then it’s back out to the airport, to pick up Morgan. My feet are already killing me.

October 26, 9:15 AM: North End

Morgan and I are sitting at our hostess’ breakfast table, pulling our thoughts together. In a few minutes, we’ll have to leave to pick up Riki at the airport. The logistics of pulling together an action are mind-boggling. There’s no describing the thrill, though, of all that work, all those phone calls, all those miles. Riding a clattering subway on a Saturday morning, seated beside another living, breathing, laughing, swearing intersexual, hugging near-strangers at unfamiliar airports, then riding back, together, defiant, determined, organized, to the heart of so much of our pain, so much of our anger, so much of our need. We gathered in front of the huge Hynes Auditorium, pamphlets and leaflets in hand, and met the AAP attendees as they left the convention center for lunch. The next hour-and-a-half was a blur, as we positioned ourselves in strategic locations before the Hynes, held signs and “Hermaphrodites with Attitude” banner aloft, distributed our literature, engaged AAP members and passers-by in conversation and debate, spoke to microphones, to cameras. In all that time, I recorded only one fragment of a breathless sentence.

Saturday, 12:20 PM Outside the Hynes

We’ve got all the exits covered, and it’s an incredible, incredibly empowering experience. I remember the words I spoke to the TV camera, if only because I had scribbled a rough outline on the airplane, pirating mightily from Cheryl’s press release. And because the moment was so salient, so real. Me, Max, bespectacled, with blisters on my feet and chapped lips, speaking out to untold numbers of invisible viewers (and a few bewildered pediatricians behind me.)

"When an intersex child is born, parents and caregivers are faced with what seems to be a terrible dilemma: here is an infant who does not fit what our society deems normal. Immediate medical intervention seems indicated, in order to spare the parents and the child the inevitable stigmatization associated with being different. Yet the infant is not facing a medical emergency; intersexuality is rarely if ever life-threatening. Rather, the psychosocial crisis of the parents and caregivers is medicalized.

Intersexuality is assumed to be a birth defect which can be corrected, outgrown and forgotten. The experiences of members of the intersex support groups indicate that intersexuality cannot be fixed; an intersex infant grows up to be an intersex adult. This hasn’t been explored, because intersex patients are almost invariably “lost to follow-up.” The abstract of a talk that will be given at this very conference by a doctor who treats intersex infants concedes that “the psychological issues surrounding genital reconstruction are inadequately understood.”

Part of the problem is that we were lost to follow-up, and there were reasons for that. But we’re here today to say we’re back, we’re no longer lost, and we’d like to offer some feedback. We’re here to say that the treatment paradigm for “managing” intersexuals is in desperate, urgent need of re-examination. We’re back to say that early surgical intervention leads to more than “just” physical scars and sexual dysfunction. We’re back to say that the lack of education and counseling for intersexuals, our families and the community at large does not lead to a blissful, healthy, well-adjusted ignorance. Rather, it too often leads to a life-threatening shroud of silence, secrecy, and self-hatred. I’m here representing over one hundred fifty intersexals throughout North America.

One hundred fifty intersexuals are saying: Please! Listen! You doctors, you pediatric endocrinologists and urologists treating intersexuals, you nurses interacting with intersexuals and their families, listen to us! We understand intersexuality, not because we have studied the medical literature — although many of us have — not because we have performed surgeries, but because we have been grappling with intersexuality every day of our lives. We’re here to say that those who would have us believe that intersexuality is rare, cloud the issue by breaking us and separating us into narrow etiological categories which have little meaning in terms of our actual, lived experience. We’re here so that other intersexuals can find us — for many of us, finding others like ourselves has been a lifealtering, even life-saving, experience. We’re here to reach parents before their intersex child is born. We’re here to elicit the help of other sympathetic professionals. We can take a stand as openly intersex adults without being crushed by shame! And we did!

7:20 PM: Boston’s North End

Goddess, this is so sweet, so liberating! I was so reluctant a week ago, having my Jesus-in-Gethsemane experience, reluctant to accept — not an onus or responsibility but — to accept who I am. And here’s where the hard work really begins. I’m exhausted when I think of the road before us. But then, it’s nothing like the road behind us.

Max Beck, 1997.

#personal #actuallyintersex #intersex #intersex history #intersex pride #h slur #hwa #isna

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professorcalculusstanaccount · 1 year ago

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tintin is incredible at timing

(possibly) the final snippet I'll post from my story The Gypsum Maw, the previous part which follows directly before is here - I've been seeing comments asking about where to read the full thing, I'm afraid what I post is basically it - I have more pages in my sketchbook but I suspect they are only legible to me!

this post is already long so more notes and credits under the cut!

I asked for some help for coming up with friends for Chang! The gentle giant Masek was created by InkyTrink on Twitter and the super excitable Libby was created by dreamyopal, a discord mutual:

They came up with some great character notes and were super helpful providing feedback on my designs!

Writing this felt pretty odd in ways. I graduated in 2020 during the Plague Year so my class didnt get a public art showcase. I attended one last year and it was a bittersweet experience.

Reunions feel a bit like time travel, you see people after a few years and things change quite a lot. I wanted to explore this in my post canon series, Chang has grown up, found himself and has been able to live a fairly normal life with family and friends. Tintin in a way reflects that young adult insecurity about being stagnant, like you haven't been able to fully reach adulthood properly. His fame and status as a Young Boy Reporter is holding him captive, he longs for connection but is held back by expectations from both himself and the outside world.

I've also been inspired by the concept of 'queer time,' the concept that the lives of queer people progress differently to the lives of non queer people. It takes time to come to terms with yourself and to come out. Queer people are often excluded from milestones like marriage or having children. Tintin being confronted with his peers at a university highlights his insecurity about being left behind, but he's slowly making the journey to self acceptance by talking to others, and recognising common ground he has with others.

Chang's university isn't a one to one reference to a specific institution but in Belgium there was a secular movement in reaction to the dominance of the Catholic church, in which universities played a key role. There's references to art movements that were deemed "degenerate" by the Nazis here, such as Fauvism and Surrealism.

#tintin #fanart #adventures of tintin #comic #snowy #milou #captain haddock #archibald haddock #ramo nash #chang #the gypsum maw #long post #nazi mention #< in read more #claustrophobia #internalised homophobia

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shewhowas39 · 6 months ago

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a quick note on elven maturity

all right. time for another lore dump, brought to you by a big DnD fangirl.

so i see a lot of conversation around Astarion's age at the time of being turned (39 years old) and how, in DnD, that would make him a "child." this comes from rules and lore that state that elves can live to be about 750 years old (or older) and are considered adults at 100 years old. and i can absolutely see why that is confusing, but let me break it down a bit.

Elves reach physical maturity at the same age as humans, but after that point, their aging slows down tremendously. a 39 year old elf may be "considered a child" but has the physical maturity of a human in their 20s and mental maturity of a 39 year old human.

so let's talk about that "considered a child" business. this might be cleared up by adding the caveat "by other elves" at the end.

the distinction of "childhood" is cultural. because elves live so long, they see those under the age of 100 as youthful. think about it: if you had seen five hundred years of shit, you'd think an 80 year old was a sweet summer child, too. hell, i'm in my 30s and sometimes it's hard not to look at people in their early 20s as "kids" because we're just in such different places in our lives, even though they are legally adults.

even in the real world, maturity and adulthood are seen differently across cultures. different countries have different drinking ages, different ages for driving cars, different ages of consent. those standards may seem odd to an outsider, used to their own cultural norms, but every community is different.

elves don't just see other elves under age 100 as children. they see other races this way as well. high elves tend to view humans as immature - even in their old age - because 80 years to them is nothing.

i was a legal adult at 18, but 18 year old me didn't know half the shit 33 year old me does. and i'm sure 45 year old me will think 33 year old me was "young" by comparison.

now, i've seen some takes that Astarion might be lying about being a magistrate because he was "a child" and why would they make a child a magistrate? that argument might hold up in an elven dominated city, but Baldur's Gate is mostly human. by human standards, Astarion had the same mental capacity as any other 39 year old man.

Astarion, at age 39, may have been seen as a "child" by other high elves, but this isn't literal. it merely means he had yet to reach a major cultural milestone of a very, very long lived race. a milestone even the most elderly of humans likely will never reach.

would you call an 80 year old human a child? no. but a high elf very well might see them that way. not in the physical sense, but in a "oh to be young and naive and know less of the world than I do" sense. the way that we all inevitably look at those a decade younger than us, even though they are adults, and see their youth in comparison to our own.

it's 5am here and i'm babbling. the point is, the "child" bit of elven lore in DnD is confusing, i get it. but it's purely cultural. in Baldur's Gate, a city primarily run by humans, Astarion was not seen as a child by most. he was a grown man. he had the mental maturity of a 39 year old man. the only people who would have seen him as a child are other, older high elves (mostly those who grew up in a place like Evermeet) and maybe elders of other races - even humans - who were like "oh, to be 39 again!" (lol, me the day i turn 40 probably.)

tl;dr elves in dnd are not LITERALLY children until they turn 100. it's an elven culture thing, similar to how in real life different cultures have different standards for things like driving, drinking, joining the army, and age of consent.

#astarion #astarion ancunin #dnd #dungeons and dragons #forgotten realms lore #baldur's gate 3 #dnd lore

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euphorial-docx · 9 months ago

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“astarion is still a child because he was turned before he reached 100” please stop saying that. it’s not true. you’re oversimplifying it. stop it.

elven cultural maturity in dnd is reached at 100, yes, but that does not make a 90 y/o elf a child. i’ll try to explain more (but please correct me if i am wrong about any of it, this is just what i’ve gathered):

before 100, elves can reflect on their past lives while trancing, but around 100 is when they become unable to do that— which means that 100 is a milestone for the end of the connection to their past life and the full embracing of their current life, as well as to mark how much worldly experience they have.

with the 100 year milestone, they pick a new “adult” name for themselves and usually leave their family home to set out on their own and explore the world and gain wisdom and all that elven stuff.

well before turning 100, elves are mature in pretty much every sense except culturally, because elves live a long time and need a longer time to be considered well seasoned. that’s all the elven age of maturity is.

astarion is not literally a child, just inexperienced and young relative to older elves. it is sad that he didn’t get to experience the proper milestones, but stop creating more ways to treat him like a baby. it’s weird.

#astarion #baldur’s gate 3

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doyoulikethissong-poll · 7 months ago

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Whitney Houston - I Have Nothing 1993

"I Have Nothing" is a song by American singer and actress Whitney Houston, released on February 20, 1993 as the third single from The Bodyguard: Original Soundtrack Album (1992). The song was written by David Foster and Linda Thompson, and produced by Foster.

After the back-to-back successes of Houston's "I Will Always Love You" and "I'm Every Woman", "I Have Nothing" became yet another hit, peaking at number four on the US Billboard Hot 100. Houston established another historic milestone in Billboard chart history with the three singles off the soundtrack, becoming the first artist to have three songs inside the top 11 of the Hot 100 chart in the same week since the chart began using Broadcast Data System and SoundScan data in 1991. The song also became a hit on the Billboard Hot R&B Singles chart, with a number four peak, and a number-one peak on the Billboard Adult Contemporary chart. Internationally, the song reached number one in Canada, the top five in Ireland and the UK, the top ten in Denmark and Portugal, and peaked within the top forty in Australia, Germany, the Netherlands, New Zealand, and Switzerland.

"I Have Nothing" was nominated for Best Original Song at the 65th Annual Academy Awards in 1993. David Foster and Linda Thompson were nominated for Best Song Written Specifically for a Motion Picture, Television or Other Visual Media for the song at the 36th Annual Grammy Awards. Foster and Thompson received the award for Most Performed Song from a Film for the song at the 10th BMI Film & Television Awards in 1994. The song was also nominated for Best R&B Single, Female at the 8th Annual Soul Train Music Awards in 1994.

"I Have Nothing" received a total of 72,7% yes votes!

youtube

#finished #high yes #low no #low reblog #90s #soundtracks #whitney houston #english #o1

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lifelikesimz · 9 months ago

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megalony · 9 months ago

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My Little Man

This is an Eddie Diaz imagine, based on a lovely anon request which I thought was very sweet. I hope you all like it, feedback always makes my day.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf

Eddie Diaz Masterlist

Summary: Chris finds a memento that brings back a lot of memories for (Y/n) and Eddie from when he was born.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"What have you got there, baby?" (Y/n) looked over her shoulder and smiled when Chris toddled into her and Eddie's room.

He had a familiar smile on his face as he made a beeline for the bed and flopped down on (Y/n)'s vacant side of the bed on his stomach. His legs kicked happily against the duvet and he started tapping whatever he had in his hands that he had brought through to show them.

Finishing typing up her hair, (Y/n) looked away from the mirror and walked across to the bed. She slowly crawled over the end of the bed and worked her way up towards Eddie. He was laid on his left side, one arm propping his head up against the pillow and his right arm moved out to let (Y/n) worm her way against him.

She sat down and crossed her legs beneath her as she leaned her back into Eddie's torso, feeling his arm curve around her waist so his hand could splay out on her front. He leaned across to press a chaste kiss to her arm and diverted his attention from the tv over to Chris to see what he was up to.

It would be his bath time soon and then they would watch a movie before bed, but Chris had been doing some crafts and colouring in the dining room for the last half an hour. Clearly he had found something of interest that he wanted to show them.

(Y/n) leaned further back into Eddie and reached her hand down to hold his wrist when she realised what the small red book was that Chris had found.

"My book."

"Your book- oh, your record book… God I haven't seen that in a while." Eddie skimmed his fingers across the leather cover and found himself smiling.

It was the health record book they got when Chris was born. It contained all his information from when he was born up until he was three years old. Of course, all of Chris's records were on file at the hospital and had been transferred here when they moved up from Texas. But this was the book they had to take with them to each appointment when Chris was little, showing his progress and achievements and any changes.

When Chris opened the first page of the book, he skimmed his finger across his name and started to laugh. It always tickled him to see his middle name. Edmundo. He thought it was so funny to know Eddie's full name and know that it was his middle name, after his dad.

A smile danced across (Y/n)'s lips as she held Eddie's hand tighter and nuzzled her face against his shoulder to try and get a better look at the book. Chris must have been snooping through the box in the dining room where (Y/n) kept all their scrapbooks over the years. When she didn't need the baby book anymore, she kept it safe with all their family pictures and albums.

Chris dragged his finger over the chart on the left page which showed milestones and his age progression. He didn't quite understand the chart but he traced it anyway before looking onto the next page.

"What's that mean?" He slid the book to the left so it was level with Eddie's arm, allowing both parents to look over the next page.

"That's how big you were when you were born. Four pounds, see." It made Eddie's chest tighten to think that Chris was that small when he was born. It brought back memories that plagued Eddie in the dead of night. And it hurt knowing his son was that small when he was born, knowing he would of barely fit in Eddie's hands when he was a newborn.

Chris flicked across a few pages to the developmental pages but he didn't understand what they meant. There were doctors notes, saying his speech was delayed, he could hold himself up but couldn't walk yet. But he was engaged in conversation and seemed to understand everything around him.

"What about that?" He tapped his finger against the two words that stuck out to him which appeared on the page before and the next few pages in the book.

Correct age.

"That means your development age… you were doing good for your proper age." Eddie ran his hand across his chin and scratched up the side of his jaw. He couldn't think how to word it in a way that Chris would understand.

"Proper?"

"Your birthday's in November, yeah?" (Y/n) waited until Chris nodded, suddenly alert at the mention of his birthday. "Well, you should have been born in February, baby. So every February, that's when you hit your correct age… it's just something the doctor uses to make sure you progress properly, that's all."

It always irritated (Y/n) that Chris was three months ahead of where he should be. When he had his first birthday, it was clear he technically looked like a nine-month old and then he didn't look two, or three. He never looked his age because he had been born far too early.

And in terms of progression, the doctors used his due date to give his correct age. So it didn't matter if Chris didn't hit his milestones on or around his birthday, they used his correct age to guess where he was at and track how he was getting along. His speech was behind but he had done so well in getting back on track. His walking was different and couldn't be judged because of his Cerebral Palsy.

But things like sitting up and following conversations and interacting and playing and socialising, they could all be tracked. And Chris hit every milestone in those areas as he should have near his correct age.

"I was small?"

"You were tiny,"

Chris made a small whine like he was disagreeing and before Eddie could move, Chris leaned over him. Eddie gruffed and rolled onto his back so it was easier for Chris to lay on his chest and reach across for his chest of drawers beside the bed.

His nimble fingers moved into the top drawer and he scoured around until he found the silver photo frame he knew was tucked away in there.

"I wasn't tiny, see." Chris put the photo frame down on the bed next to the book and pointed.

(Y/n) felt the way Eddie tensed behind her and he leaned back up and smothered his lips against her bare arm. She felt his hand tighten over her stomach and his arm tensed and bulged at her side when he looked down at the picture.

It was the first time Eddie held Chris.

The photo stayed on Eddie's bedside table since the moment it was taken and now Chris was a bit older, Eddie swapped the picture for an updated photo. But he kept this first memory in his drawer, close by for whenever he felt the urge to look at it.

Eddie was still in his uniform in the photo, he had raced down to the hospital from the moment his feet hit solid ground back in Texas. It hurt Eddie more than anyone could ever comprehend to not have been there when Chris was born.

They had it planned out, he would finish his tour in the army two weeks before Chris's due date and be home in time to be there with his wife when she gave birth. Eddie hadn't expected to be told while he was out in the army that his wife had already given birth prematurely, without him there beside her.

He had to deal with pictures and video calls of his son, seeing him progress over a dodgy internet connection for the first three months of his life. Eddie never got to hold his son when he weighed four pounds. By the time he came home, Chris had bulked up to seven pounds and was finally able to leave the hospital and go home.

Eddie had lost even more sleep in the army, fretting that he wouldn't be there if something happened to his baby and he lost his son. He couldn't stand the thought of losing Chris without ever seeing or holding him first.

"No, bud… I wasn't here when you were born. I was away in the army." Eddie perched his chin on (Y/n)'s shoulder and managed a smile when she brushed her hand across his cheek to wipe away a tear.

"You were being brave."

"No, not as brave as you and mum."

***

"There's my girl- you're gonna have to speak up mi amor, it's fucking loud over here."

Eddie held the Ipad in both hands and grinned when the screen finally lit up and he was faced with a blurred pixelated image of his wife. Three months out here was starting to feel like three years with how long Eddie had been separated from her.

He knew it would be hard when he signed up. Being away from his family wasn't as much of a burden as being kept away from his wife. Letters were good, they were a physical keepsake he could hold close to his heart when he thought of (Y/n). Pictures were even better, they reminded him that he was never going to forget what she looked like and that he would be home soon to hold her in his arms.

Talking to her like this was the best out of everything. Seeing her on the screen and hearing her voice kept Eddie going and gave him something he could think back on and listen to in the dead of night.

He hadn't been excited to leave for the army while (Y/n) was pregnant, though. He was missing everything. The appointments, the sonograms, the pictures. And worst of all, he was missing out on watching the way (Y/n)'s body was growing and changing while he wasn't there. But he would be home soon. Just less than three months and Eddie would be home to hold his wife in his arms and see how much she had changed and hold her stomach before she gave birth.

"How are you, mi amor?" Eddie tangled a hand in his hair and ruffled it further back and away from his eyes. He didn't want anything to obscure the vision he now had in front of him.

He was glad the tent was empty. There was nothing Eddie hated more than having to talk to (Y/n) with people watching and listening. He couldn't ask her to stand up and strip for him or let him see how much her stomach had changed if he had others in the room.

Panic struck Eddie in the heart and wiped the smile from his face when the image on his screen cleared and started to move.

Within seconds, the signal improved enough for Eddie to see his wife. Tears stained her face, her eyes were red and puffy and her hair was falling out of a loose bun at the back of her head. Her body looked to be trembling and Eddie could see her chest quaking as she struggled to take proper breaths.

"Baby what's the matter?" Eddie squinted at the screen before another realisation hit him like a truck and sent his heart reeling in his chest. "Where are you?"

"The hospital," (Y/n) finally dragged her eyes up from her hands to stare at the screen and the moment she saw Eddie, a floodwave of tears drenched her face and a horrible sob bubbled past her lips.

For the last two days she had been crying and screaming his name like it was the only thing she could understand. To finally have him on screen in front of her, able to talk to her was too much to handle. She just wanted him home, and there was no way to get that wish and have her husband's arms wrapped around her or his voice in her ear or his lips on her burning skin.

She couldn't have any of it.

"Why, what's happened?" Eddie had spoken to her only a few days ago and she had been fine. A little under the weather, but nothing to warrant going to the hospital. They had moved location and now they were set up here, Eddie had been able to schedule another video call today. "Is it the baby?"

He didn't want to ask. He didn't want to ask that question in case the answer was yes and he wasn't mentally prepared for the outcome.

"I… oh Eddie… I've had the baby." (Y/n) swiped her sleeve along her eyes and beneath her nose, but it didn't help the sob she let out.

She hated the way Eddie paled like all the colour was being drained from him and he started to shake his head in denial.

She couldn't have.

How could she of had their baby now- already? She was twenty-eight weeks pregnant. Not thirty-eight or forty. She was six months along, nowhere near ready to give birth or be at risk of labour. Eddie had told her he would be home before she went into labour. He promised to be there to hold her hand and coax her through it and hold their baby when they were born.

"You, no. No- how? What happened?!"

"My water broke w-when I was with your mum… they tried to stop it, but… but, I had him last night."

(Y/n) didn't have all the answers Eddie wanted. She didn't know why it happened or exactly how it happened. One moment she was feeling sick while at his parent's house, then the next, her stomach clenched and she realised she was sat in a pool of water.

She was given medication and put on observation to see if labour would stop, but it only held off for one day. She went back into labour yesterday afternoon and by eight o'clock in the evening, she had a baby boy snatched from her arms and taken away from her. And all (Y/n) could do was scream out for Eddie throughout it all until she passed out.

It would have been some sort of comfort to have Eddie on the laptop like this, just to have him aware and somewhat present was all (Y/n) wanted. But she couldn't have him in any sense of the word.

"Him? It's a boy?" Tears pooled in Eddie's eyes and began to fall down his face as he held the Ipad closer as if it would help him inspect his wife. "Is… is he okay?"

A quiet noise vibrated at the back of Eddie's throat when (Y/n) moved the laptop further back so she wasn't as close to the screen. She could see Eddie's eyes zoom in on her stomach and his lips curled down at the corners like he was going to howl when he saw the change in shape. She still has something of a bump, but it was different now. And with (Y/n)'s arms wrapped around her waist, it cemented the fact that Eddie had missed it.

He missed the birth of his son. He missed being there for his wife when she was in agony and needed comfort and reassurance. Eddie missed everything.

"We have a boy. He's in the neonatal ward… but I can't hold him. H-he's only four pounds." She could see the relief in Eddie's eyes and it made her cry harder.

He dreaded the thought that their baby didn't make it.

"Oh God. Mi amor, I'm so sorry… I- fuck I can't even come home and hold you. I'll try and video every day I swear. Will they let you stay with him? Is someone there with you, has ma stayed with you?" The thought of (Y/n) being there on her own sent Eddie reeling.

If she was alone he would go mad. He would message both his sisters and his mum and demand someone go down and stay with his wife. He wouldn't have her being on her own for a minute when she's just had the most stressful event of her life.

"Your mum's sitting with him, she won't leave me." (Y/n) was relieved to have Eddie's family right around the corner. She was grateful to have been with his parents when this happened and for his mum never leaving her side.

She took (Y/n)'s hand, she let her scream and cry and say Eddie's name until she was blue in the face. She had done everything she could, and now she was watching over her grandson while (Y/n) had a moment alone to explain everything to Eddie.

"Good."

"Eddie, t-they couldn't find a vein, God his skin… skin is like paper. The canula is, is in his head."

(Y/n) watched the way Eddie grimaced and almost gagged at the thought.

Their boy was so small that they couldn't find a vein anywhere to give him his fluids and medication. His skin was as thin and fragile as paper and they couldn't put the canula in his hand, his arm, his leg or even his foot. They had managed to find a vein on the top of his head that was prominent enough to push the needle into and it made (Y/n) want to scream.

She had never seen one in a newborn's head before.

"Ooh, baby." Eddie pinched the bridge of his nose but it didn't stop the tears from falling. "I'll be home with you soon, you'll see. I swear, I'm never leaving either of you again."

***

Eddie tipped his head forward and let the water trickle through his hair and hit the back of his neck. He could feel his skin shivering and prickling at the lukewarm water draining down over his back and pooling around his feet.

He leaned his head down a little further until his lips were smothering the top of Chris's head.

He had his son curled up against his chest, his small head resting just below Eddie's neck against his collar bone. He had one arm across Chris's legs and the other curled around the back of his neck with his fingers spread across Chris's back to keep his son steady and stable on his chest.

Droplets splashed up against Eddie's shoulder and the bottom of his chin when Chris began bashing his fist down against Eddie's chest and making little gurgling sounds.

"Is that better?" He murmured quietly against the top of Chris's head while he began swaying from left to right. Moving the stream of water over each shoulder while he kept his head leant forward so the water didn't pelt down on Chris too much and overpower him.

It was strange to think that Chris was three months old when he was the exact look, size and weight of a baby that could have been born yesterday.

Eddie didn't like it.

He didn't like looking down at his son and knowing that he had missed the first three months of his life. Eddie didn't like the thought of people coming up to him, asking how old his son was and having to explain he was already three months old. It wasn't right. Chris shouldn't have been born so soon.

He shouldn't still be struggling to breathe and coughing into Eddie's neck like this after recovering from an infection. He was too small and fragile for any of this.

"Come on then little man, back to bed." Eddie turned off the shower and shook the water free from his hair before he stepped out the shower.

He hadn't planned on getting a wash this late into the night, but when he went to settle Chris and found him coughing, Eddie figured it might help. The warm water and condensed steam might help settle Chris and make him breathe easier and it seemed to have worked.

It had tired Eddie out too and he felt like he might be able to get a proper night's sleep now.

Eddie had been home three days before the hospital said Chris could come home. Part of him was pleased he was home before Chris was discharged from the hospital, it meant the first night having him home, Eddie was here. He could help (Y/n) waking up in the night with Chris and seeing him in his cot and giving him his bottles.

But he knew it had been a struggle for (Y/n), she had been living down at the hospital while Eddie had been praying for time to speed up so his tour could end and he could go home.

"Let's find mummy."

He began to hum quietly as he tilted Chris down so he could wrap a towel around him and settle him in the crook of his left arm. He kept his arm moving up and down to rock Chris while he quickly dried his hair and ran the towel briefly over his frame. It took some effort to wiggle his way into his boxers with one hand and drag them up over his hips, but he managed it.

A soft smile pulled at Eddie's lips when he headed into his and (Y/n)'s room and his eyes found his wife. She was asleep. Just where Eddie had left her when he went to settle Chris and subsequently get a shower with him.

He eased Chris down on the bed and moved to find a nappy and onesie. His tongue poked between his teeth as he carefully wiggled Chris's legs and arms into the onesie and buttoned it up the middle. Eddie wasn't the best at getting him dressed, but he was certainly starting to get better.

He was happy to be doing this now, with Chris grown to be the normal, perfect size for a newborn. Eddie wouldn't want to of been a nurse changing the tinny, obscure size nappies when Chris had been born. He had seen Chris plenty of times over zoom calls with (Y/n) and the photos she had taken for him. It was strange to think such a small, fragile, wrinkled infant was the boy who was now in his arms.

"Okay, there we go." Eddie loved the tired yawn Chris made and the way it crinkled his button nose.

When he carefully picked Chris up, Eddie held him close and looked over to (Y/n)'s side of the bed.

Suddenly, he didn't want to put Chris down in the cot near (Y/n).

He wasn't sure why, but he didn't want to. Eddie shook his head and carefully sat down in bed. He shuffled the pillow higher behind him and reclined down until he was slanted at an angle and drew the cover over his lower half.

He eased Chris up and snuggled him onto his chest, watching the way Chris coiled his arms up to his chest and his knees pulled up near his tummy as he laid on his front on Eddie's chest. The weight was comforting. The slight compression down on his ribs and the strain it put on his lungs to try and take deeper breaths. It made Eddie's mind settle and did something to relax him.

He wound his arms over his chest, resting one hand on the back of Chris's head and the other hand on his lower back, snuggling close. He kissed the top of his head before he leaned back into his pillow and started to glide his thumb up and down the back of Chris's head.

Eddie couldn't find the will to turn the lamp off or close his eyes yet, so he focused on trailing his thumb up and down the back of Chris's head and watching his boy take big, snuffly breaths.

Something shuddered down Eddie's spine and made his chest quiver when he glided his thumb across the left side of Chris's temple.

His scar.

By the time Eddie came home, the canula had been removed from Chris's head, much to (Y/n)'s relief. But Eddie had seen it on video calls and in pictures. It had been a horrid sight. A needle right into his skin, kept in place with tape and pinned to the side of his temple so he couldn't scratch it or pull it out.

"I'm here now. I've got you."

Eddie groggily opened his eyes when he felt something tickle across his chin and glide up the side of his jaw. His eyes couldn't focus for a second or two when they opened, but when his vision focused, his sights set on (Y/n).

Her lips pressed against his bare shoulder and her fingers dragged along his jaw before she laid her arm over his collar bone. He could feel her shuffling up and gluing her front against his left side.

(Y/n) winced when Eddie lifted his upper chest and shoulders up from the bed and his spine made a loud crack as it slotted back into place.

"How long have you held him?" Her voice was quiet against his shoulder and her hand reached to cup the side of his neck.

She could see Chris settled comfortably in the middle of Eddie's chest and both his hands tightened around Chris as if to make sure he was still safe and settled.

"A while."

All night.

He had been laid on his back, slightly propped up against the pillows, all night. With his baby boy right on his chest where he should be.

***

A smile graced (Y/n)'s lips when she walked into the living room and looked over at the sofa. Placing her drink down on the side table, she tiptoed to the sofa and slowly perched down beside Eddie.

He was slouched in the corner, both knees bent out to the sides with his legs spread wide. His right elbow was propped up on the armrest with his hand curled into a fist and his cheek smushed up against his fist, stopping his head from flopping down and hurting his neck. His shoulders were slumped down, his left arm was laid on his thigh and his eyes were closed.

He hadn't been asleep for long, but he had managed to nod off despite the noise circulating through his parent's house.

His parents were making a ruckus in the kitchen trying to prepare dinner, both his sisters and their partners were moving inside and out into the garden and music was playing in the background. And yet, Eddie still managed to fall asleep.

(Y/n) slowly curled her hands around Eddie's bicep and leaned her head against his shoulder while she looked to see what was on tv. She heard Eddie mumble something and groan, but he didn't move.

She leaned her chest up against his arm and slung her left leg over Eddie's thigh until she was practically lying on top of him.

A round of coughing caught (Y/n)'s attention and her eyes darted to the right and locked on Chris.

He had been suffering with a chest infection for over two weeks now, and he was still croaky. Antibiotics took the edge off and an inhaler helped to get him breathing properly for a while, but then the coughing came back. (Y/n) had been giving him two baths a day with salts and vapour drops in the water to try and get the steam into his lungs to clear them.

Her eyes followed Chris as he toddled over, his glasses almost falling off the edge of his nose. His arms were stretched out in front of him and he planted his hands down on Eddie's thighs the moment he reached him.

The four-year-old whacked his hands against Eddie's inner thighs enough to make him groan and stir him awake.

Eddie blinked slowly and huffed, lifting his head off his hand just as Chris used his upper strength to pull himself up onto his dad's lap. Once he was up, Chris scraped his hands against Eddie's arms and flopped forward onto Eddie's chest causing him to grunt.

"Hi buddy." Leaning his head back on the sofa, Eddie closed his eyes again while he moved his hands under Chris's arms and pulled him up higher. He settled Chris down on his chest, with his head on Eddie's shoulder and his arms loosely draped around his neck.

When Chris started to cough, he pressed his lips into Eddie's shirt, over his chest and closed his eyes tight. He felt Eddie's hand rub up and down his back and his lips pressing to the top of his head.

"Deep breaths, that's it." Eddie opened his eyes and glanced down at the watch on his wrist. "Let's get you some medicine… do you want a drink?" His head turned towards (Y/n) and he pecked her lips when she nodded. It was about time for Chris to have some more medicine and Eddie knew his parents would be done with dinner soon.

His hand cradled the back of Chris's neck, and his other arm curved around the back of his legs to keep him in place before he slowly stood to his feet.

He felt Chris nuzzle into his neck and begin taking deeper breaths while he tried to hum into his dad's neck. Eddie kept his lips pressed into Chris's temple, nudging his nose into his boy's curls as he trailed through the living room and made his way into the kitchen.

"Okay, here we go." Lifting his arms, Eddie tried to shift Chris onto his hip but the toddler wouldn't have it. His arms deadlocked around Eddie's neck and his chest glued down against Eddie's with his knees jabbed into his lower abdomen. Chris didn't want to sit on his hip, he wanted to stay curled up against Eddie's chest.

This was how his dad always held him and he wanted to stay like this. Eddie held Chris with one arm and reached out to grab the Calpol, struggling to get the medicine in the syringe with one hand so he didn't have to put Chris down.

"Take this, buddy."

Chris didn't object and took the medicine gladly before Eddie started to pour two glasses of wine.

He felt his mother's hand on his back and Eddie smiled, trying to liven himself up a bit more. His head turned to the right to watch his mother move round and stand beside him, but he watched her narrow her eyes when she noticed Chris curled up in his arms.

"He can walk on his own, Eddie." Her voice was soft but her words and her tone was chiding. It was as if she thought Eddie was doing something wrong by carrying Chris like this.

"I know."

Eddie nodded nonchalantly and took a large swig of wine before he curled his fingers around the stems of both glasses. He turned to face his mother, his son in one arm and the glasses in his other hand. He wasn't stopping Chris from walking. He and (Y/n) had been trying hard to get Chris walking on his own, especially when it was such a struggle to get him standing on his own two feet and able to shuffle around.

Since he was two, Chris had mostly been crawling and shuffling on his bum rather than walking. His cerebral palsy made it harder for him to hold his balance and standing was a struggle.

Eddie didn't want to stop his progress or carry him everywhere, but he was sick. And if Chris wanted to be carried or cuddled or lay on Eddie's chest, then Eddie certainly wasn't going to object.

"He's a bit big to be carrying around." She rested her hand on Eddie's arm but he shook his head and pulled away.

"No he's not." His shoulders shrugged and he pursed his lips as he looked down from his mother to his son. "He's my little man, I can carry him anywhere if he wants me to."

Spinning on his heels, Eddie passed back down through the hall and back into the living room where (Y/n) was sat just as he'd left her. He let her take both glasses from his hand before he turned and slowly eased back down beside her, trying not to jostle Chris too much on his chest.

He felt Chris shimmy on his chest again, curling up with his knees into his chest and his arms left Eddie's neck to wrap around his chest instead. Eddie pressed his hand down on Chris's back before he curled his left arm out and wrapped it around (Y/n). He reeled her into his side with her head on his shoulder so his lips could attach to the top of her head.

His son would never be too old to be carried or to lay on Eddie's chest.

#eddie diaz x reader #eddie diaz imagine #eddie diaz #eddie x reader #imagine #911 imagine

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