#holding this up to you like macaroni art look look look

[wormsdyke]

this latticework is a form of permeable pavement!

it’s a form of green infrastructure that (as inneskeeper explained) helps with water retention!

when rainwater and snowmelt can be absorbed into the permeable soil instead of running over the top of pavement, it helps slow the speed of stormwater runoff entering rivers and streams, making it closer to the natural speed at which water enters them - rainwater tends to move much faster into those systems when running over pavement and the increased speed can be disruptive to the plant and animal life in those streams. the increased speed of stormwater runoff also causes more disruptive erosion of the riparian zones that make up the walls of the streams, damaging their integrity and polluting the water with excess sediment.

it also helps remove pollutants from the stormwater that would end up in those streams! the microbiomes in the soil are better equipped to filter nutrient pollutants than organisms in streams. those pollutants can directly poison organisms that absorb them while respirating the contaminated water, and can also drastically upset the water chemistry - aquatic biomes are very sensitive to to changes in things like phosphorous and nitrogen which are commonly introduced in stormwater pollutants. instead, get filtered out in the soil in these permeable pavements!!!

there’s more designs for permeable pavement out there for different needs, including ones that maintain the smooth surface that is accessible for mobility devices. check out this example of porous asphalt (on the right) vs. standard asphalt (on the left). you can see how stormwater is filtering through the porous asphalt into the soil instead of pooling on top.

these versions are almost indistinguishable from traditional stone pathways! the small areas of open soil between the bricks serve the same purpose as the open areas in the lattice paths.

here’s the EPA’s page about permeable pavement if you’d like to learn more about it! (photos also from this page).

stormwater management is a massively overlooked piece of environmental conservation!! you can reach out to your local stormwater management department to learn more. many have educational programs about all sorts of topics, resources for you to get involved, and opportunities to help with projects like rain gardens!

[willowed-wisp]

ghost as a dad ( part two ) [ simon riley ]

part one | part three

- Definitely takes your eldest to base when she can walk small distances with him on occasion.

- He literally crouches down and holds her little hands. Her doe eyes wandering everywhere, a pinch of awe and a little bit of fear but when she looks at her dad she gains the courage to continue.

- Definitely calls her, ‘pumpkin’, ‘princess’, and other things that has uncle Soap like a puppy dog.

- Johnny is the only person he trusts with her on base- he is your kids’ god father, along with Simon’s brother, Tommy.

- When Simon notices her getting sluggish, “Come on, sweet pea,” holding her with caution as she has the nerve to bonk him on the nose when talking to his superiors, “what has mummy been teachin’ ya, huh?” Not mad at all, impressed even- she had an impressive right hook for such tiny hands.

- Her head shook, “Not mama, dada,” her finger pointed over to someone, “It was Soapy…” Simon had been on the verge of hysterical laughter but contained himself- remembering the encounter later that day. Even telling you over dinner.

- He has two personalities when your son is born, maybe it was because of his abusive childhood that drove him to leave home but he had a mental block after learning the baby was a boy.

- All of his worry melted away in the delivery room- Simon was the first to hold his baby boy. Something he’d missed with your daughter.

- He decided to be a better father figure to his son than his dad. The BEST father figure even if it fucking killed him.

- Simon’s mother was watching your little girl at home. It was the afternoon that you went into labour. 6 hours down the line it was over and you were hell bent on getting back home.

- Simon takes care of the nitty gritty for the first fortnight, while you get proper rest.

- He rarely sleeps while deployed so he’s used to taking the night shift on. Until your stubborn ass gets him to allow you to take it and that he doesn’t need to do that every night of the week.

- Simon gets his best sleep when your daughter crawls between you in the middle of the night.

- His heart breaks when he sees this little blonde haired figure swaddled in a fluffy blanket waddle through the door he leaves ajar for this exact reason. “What’s wrong, pumpkin?”

- She shuffles over to him, blanket falling at her feet as she jumps into his open arms, “Couldn’t sweep, dada,” Clung to him like a koala bear.

- He gives a gentle boop onto her nose, making her giggle, “Guess you’re gonna have to sleep ‘ere then…” Plopping her down in the middle and giving her one of his pillows.

- She’s such a deep sleeper- good when the baby cries but a nightmare trying to wake her up without getting kicked. She was her dad through and through. Down to the brown eyes, to the little mannerisms she has.

- When she starts nursery, Simon is on school duty. He loves making sure his little girl gets there safe and sound. Ditching the car parked near the packed nursery before walking hand in hand with his pumpkin.

- You wait in the car on the first day, with your boy in his car seat in the back of the Land Rover. In tears watching this 6’5” man crouching down to hold his four-year-old’s daughter’s hand.

- When he returned to the car, his hand at the back of your head dragging you into a breathtaking kiss. You were taken aback, “What was that for?” Said between laughs.

- Tears trapped in his gentle eyes, “You gave me the best kids,” your fingers brushed by his lips before he held them in his, “Thank you…”

- Definitely hangs whatever artwork your girl does on the fridge, praising her macaroni art pieces.

- Gets a call while on base, “Mr Riley?” He acknowledges it’s him. “Hiya, it’s the nursery… there’s been a situation. Y/D/N has gotten into a scuffle with one of the boys…”

- “Is she okay? She hurt?” He blurted out and did the maths on how quickly he could get to his daughter. Not caring how this looked to the other guys.

- “No, Y/D/N punched one of the boys in the face. They were picking on her, when’s the soonest you can pick her up?” He had to hold that laughter, reign it back in a cough.

- “I’ll be there in ten…” He hung up the phone, now giving a small chuckle.

- Price is the first to speak up, “What’s got you so happy, Riley?”

- “Y/D/N just punched a bully in the face…”

- Gaz raised a brow, “That’s a good thing?”

- “I’ve never so proud in my life…”

- He goes to the nursery, doing an act in front of the staff before they get to the car, “Don’t be mad at me, dada…” His heart crushed as she said that, as if he would ever be mad at her.

- “No more punchin’, okay? Call ‘em a prick instead, alright?” Then he turned to her fully. Fist outstretched to her, instead of bumping it she slapped his knuckles. He’d have to teach how to fist bump, “Don’t let people pick on ya… I’m always here…”

- The next day, you received a call. From the nursery… telling both you and Simon to come in.

- Simon carried your son, sound asleep on his dad’s arms. You could tell the staff were maybe a little intimidated by your husband. You were before you discovered he was such a kid under that tough exterior.

- His eyes softer than they had ever been looking at his children, “What’ve you done now, missy?” You studied her features, so much of you in her but that look was all Simon. Determined and a slight scowl, yeah that was Si alright.

- “Y/D/N called one of the other children, something beginning with ‘P’ and ending in ‘Rick’,” Something told you she had some influence from her father.

- He fist-bumped your daughter when you were walking back to the car. You’d have a word with Simon later that day but for that moment. To see him so at peace and her little smile… you wouldn’t spoil that for the world.

- When your son was four years old, you saw the difference with how Simon treated the pair. He instilled kindness in him, took him to football games with the members of 141.

- It affects Simon to be away from them during deployments but you’re the best mother to them. He couldn’t ask for a better partner.

- He lets the kids colour in his tattoos… a pink skull on his arm… green fire… they used sharpie/permanent markers. During deployment it breaks his heart to see the colours fade, he contemplates filling them back in but he says to himself, “Gotta get home so the kiddos can do it…”

————

taglist:

@thychuvaluswife @foxygirl-4287

[covenofagatha]

'tis the damn season

You're in town for the holidays for the first time in seven years and you run into your old girlfriend.

Word count: 5100

Warnings: sex, fingering, oral, thigh grinding, angst

It’s been seven years since you’ve been back in Westview. 

And yet, as you drive back down the roads in the town where you grew up in, it seems like nothing has changed at all. 

You moved away after college to chase your dreams of becoming an actress in Los Angeles, leaving behind very little here. 

It had worked out; you had landed some roles in TV shows and movies, and you hadn’t been back since. 

Your parents had come to see you for most of the holidays wherever you were filming, and the years had just flown by. But this December, you had no projects in the works and they had begged you to come home. 

So you agreed. 

One day before Christmas, you pull up to the two-story house where you spent your entire childhood through college years. The outside lights are on, like they always were when you would get home late or go for a run or bring friends over. You used to joke that it was because your parents didn’t want you forgetting which house was theirs, but now you know it’s because they wanted to make sure you always knew to come back. 

“Yoohoo,” you hear someone behind you say. You turn around as you’re unloading your suitcase from the car to find Sharon Davis, the widow who lives next door standing there, looking pleased as ever. 

“Mrs. Davis,” you greet pleasantly. She holds her arms out to you and you step willingly into her embrace. The older woman had been your babysitter when you were younger and you remember the plates of freshly baked cookies she always had. 

She pulls back and gives you the once-over, squeezing your biceps. “Well, just look at you, hon. A movie star! How exciting.”

You chuckle and tug on your earlobe, a habit you’ve always had when people compliment you. “Thank you. So, how have you been? How are things here?” 

“Oh, things have been good,” Sharon says, waving her hands. “They built a new school, and that old diner? They tore it down!” 

“No,” you gasp, not really sure which one she’s talking about. 

Mrs. Davis nods like your mock outrage is the appropriate level. “And – oh, what was that girl’s name?”

Your brows crinkle. “What girl?” 

“You know, the one you used to hang out with,” she says, snapping her fingers, and you get a sinking feeling in your stomach. “Amelia…Abby…Addison…” 

“Agatha?” You offer, knowing that’s exactly who she’s thinking of. Your heart beat picks up.

She points at you. “Yes, Agatha! Well, I didn’t think anything of it until I saw you just now, but she’s been out and about with that Rio Vidal lady. Between you and me, I thought you and her made a better pair. Say, whatever happened with you two?” 

Your jaw clenches so hard you think you might crack a tooth. But thankfully, this is the exact moment when your parents decide to open the door and shout your name. 

“Happy Holidays, Mrs. Davis,” you say hastily, turning towards your mom who throws her arms around you. Now that you think about it, you haven’t seen them in close to a year. 

When she finally lets go of you, you give your dad a hug, and then your mom pulls you back in again. You let her, secretly glad to be home. 

“Well, just look at you,” your mom says, tutting. “Do they even feed you in LA? Come on in, I’ve put on a roast. Stan, grab her suitcase.” Your dad does as he’s told, and you give Mrs. Davis a weak wave, her words still echoing in your head. 

You’re ushered through the front door and to the kitchen table, to the seat that you had claimed as yours all those years ago. The house still looks exactly the same, the pictures, the macaroni art you made in third grade, the first place in the spelling bee certificate hung on the fridge. 

It almost makes you tear up, the amount of history they kept. You can hear the thud of your suitcase hitting the stairs as your dad brings it up to your room and your mom busies herself with setting the table, and you feel a longing pang in your chest for how things used to be. 

In elementary school, you’d run downstairs while your mom chased you around with your clothes and your dad would catch you before both of them walked you to the bus stop. They’d pick you up there too, always together, and you would peer over the countertop to get a glimpse of what your mom was making for dinner. 

In middle school, your dad would be tapping his foot by the front door waiting for you to finish texting and eating breakfast so he could drop you off. Your mom picked you up and then you would all sit in front of the television after dinner and catch up on whatever reality TV show you were watching. 

In high school, you would scarfe down a bagel and rush out of the house, pressing a quick kiss to both of their cheeks. You’d come home and sit at the table, doing homework until late at night, while your dad would do the crossword and your mom would work on her latest sowing project next to you. 

In college, they would give you your space, never prying too much and always having a home-cooked meal if you wanted one. When you started bringing Agatha home, they treated her like she was their second daughter. You would joke that they loved her more than they loved you, and you still remember how Agatha would wink at them, like it was their little secret. 

And then bitterness rises up in you at Mrs. Davis’s words. Rio Vidal? You don’t care who she’s with now, it’s been seven years, but you don’t want to hear about it. If you really cared that much, you would’ve just asked Agatha.

You had known her since your first day of third grade when she had moved to town. She sat next to you and you became fast friends when you offered her your green marker during a coloring project. 

The two of you had only grown closer through the rest of elementary school, middle school, and high school. 

One day, in the middle of senior year, she had started going out with this girl from your Biology class and you didn’t know why you were so jealous. You thought it was just because you were her best friend and you felt like she was replacing you, but then she took her shirt off in front of you while changing for volleyball practice, and your mouth went dry. 

Oh. 

You weren’t jealous because you were her friend. You were jealous because you were in love with her.

It was hard not to be, with her long hair and blue eyes and her easy smile, her entire personality, the way she would look at you like you were the only one in the world. 

Her and the girl broke up, and you couldn’t hide how happy you were about it. But you had never imagined she would like you back, until one night, the two of you were laughing so hard you were almost crying in your bed around midnight, when she had suddenly leaned in and kissed you. 

Immediately you kissed her back and she ended up holding a hand over your mouth while she fingered you that night in your childhood bed so your parents wouldn’t hear you. 

You had asked her to be your girlfriend the next day, and a month later, she told you that she loved you. You said it back with no hesitation at all, knowing that she was the first person you ever meant it to. 

And things were really good for the next four years. You’d gone to the same college, both of you living at home, and still found lots of time to hang out. 

But you were a theater major in college, and things were really starting to go right for you. Agents had been in touch, asking you to fly out to all these places around the US. It was your dream. But Agatha was here, and she had to take care of her parents. She hadn’t even asked you to stay, knowing that it was always your goal to make it out of Westview. Still, you considered it, not wanting to leave her. 

The decision tore you apart, but you ultimately chose to go. 

You told Agatha that maybe you could do long-distance, and you would fly back whenever you could, and you could fly her out to see you, but nothing was ever the same after that. 

There was a disconnect between you now, an ache in both of you, and you knew it was all your fault. She turned cold, colder than the New Jersey winter, and she didn’t even come to say goodbye when you left for the airport the last time you were here. 

You’re happy she moved on, you tell yourself. It’s been seven years. You’ve “moved on,” dated your fair share of stars, leaving a trail of broken hearts down the road. You weren't sure what was wrong with you, and why you couldn’t feel the same toward anyone else though. 

Your mom puts down the plate of food in front of you, the scent making your mouth water. It’s been too long since you’ve had a meal like this and you immediately dig in, the warmth helping you feel a little better about Agatha. 

After dinner, you’re helping your parents clean up in the kitchen when your dad suddenly slaps his hand to his forehead. 

“I forgot to get a pie crust for tomorrow,” he groans. On Christmas, it’s always been a family tradition to bake a pumpkin pie. 

“Oh, don’t worry, dad,” you say, swiping your keys from the bowl on the island. “I’ll run to the store and get one before they close.” Before they can protest, you’re getting in your car and starting the familiar drive to the grocery store five minutes from your house. 

You’re browsing the aisles, picking up the crust and seeing if there’s anything else you might need, when you hear a cart behind you. You automatically step closer to the shelves so they can pass, but the wheels stop right next to you. 

“Hey there, superstar,” a voice says, a voice that you haven’t heard in seven years, except in your dreams. It’s the same pet name that had been thrown in your face scathingly when you’d chosen LA, but now, there’s a certain fondness to it. 

Before you even turn, you know exactly who you’ll find. “Agatha,” you breathe, taking the woman in. She looks exactly the same, except for a few more lines on her forehead. Time has treated her very well and your heart hurts. She’s wearing a red dress and her long hair is flowing over her shoulders. 

She gives you a soft smile. “Welcome back.” 

“Oh, thanks,” you say, clearing your throat. “Um, how are you? How have you been?” 

She nods. “Not too bad. What about you? How long are you in town for?” The awkwardness hangs over your heads like a sword about to fall. 

“Just for a few days. I’m leaving on the 26th. I had Christmas off though, so thought I would come stop by for a bit. Good to see things haven’t changed around here,” you try to joke, but it falls flat. 

“Well, good to see you,” she says and starts to push her cart but you grab onto it, desperation sinking her claws into your body. You refuse to let her walk away. 

Agatha raises an eyebrow and you quickly let go. “Do you want to maybe, like, get a drink or something? Catch up?” You ask, trying to keep the pleading tone out of your voice but it leaks out anyway. 

She chews on her lip and you want to cry. You haven’t realized how much you’ve missed her until now. “Okay,” Agatha says finally and you feel a weight lifted off you. “Let me get a few more things. Where do you want to go?” 

“How about I just get a six pack and we go sit in my driveway? Like old times?” You know it’s a lot, but you just want to feel like you’re twenty-one with her again. 

But she nods. “Yeah, sure. I’ll meet you there.” You bite the inside of your cheek before you can say something stupid about how she still remembers where you live. 

You get the beers and the pie crust and drive home, wiping your palms on your jeans every so often. You don’t know why you’re so nervous. It’s just like meeting up with any of your old friends. You’ve known her since you were about eight years old.

It’s only about five minutes before Agatha pulls into the driveway next to you and turns off her car. You swallow hard before unlocking your door so she can slide into the passenger seat next to you. 

“So, superstar,” she drawls, using her keychain to pop off the top to the beer bottle that you hand her. You wince preemptively at the name, worried that she’s going to cut deep. “How’s LA?” 

An exhale slowly escapes you and you launch into telling her the same things you tell everyone about your recent projects and the people you’ve worked with and how one time on set, you kept saying a word wrong and you ended up having to do thirty-seven takes before the director finally changed the script. 

Agatha hangs onto every word, sipping her beer but never breaking eye contact. When you’re finally done talking, she puts her hand on yours and it makes you gasp. “How are you?” She asks, and it makes you falter.

“I just told you–” 

She cuts you off. “Come on. I know you better than that. Do you give that speech to anyone who asks? Don’t tell me what you think I want to hear, tell me how you’re really doing. I can tell when you’re not okay.” 

It’s like a punch to the gut to realize that Agatha still knows you better than anyone else does, maybe even better than you know yourself. “Oh,” you say, voice croaking and you blink fast. “It’s a little lonely, if I’m being honest.” It’s the first time you’ve ever admitted it out loud. 

In the past seven years, you’ve sailed through relationships, both romantic and platonic. Girlfriends never stuck around or you pushed them away, while friends were fair-weathered and only wanted to hang out because you’re famous. 

Agatha never cared about any of that. You find yourself wondering what if you had stayed more than you’d like to admit. It seems like something was always going to bring you back to her. 

Her face softens and she squeezes your hand. “I’m sorry.” 

You give her a wry smile. “Don’t be. I chose it. I left. I left y-” Your voice breaks before you can say that you left her.

“No,” she shushes, and she cups your cheek to wipe the tear you didn’t even realize was falling. “You got out. That’s what you always wanted. I was so angry back then, but it’s okay now. I should’ve tried to stay in touch.”

“I could’ve come back,” you say but she shakes her head. 

“It’s in the past. We can call it even now if you want,” she says and you laugh, finally getting some semblance of closure. 

You nod and hiccup and her lips tug up into the smile you’ve missed so much. “Yeah, I’d really like that.” 

And then the next thing you know, her mouth is on yours and her hands are grappling at your waist to get you into her lap over the center console. You hit your knee on the gear shift and hiss in pain, but then her tongue is sliding against yours and you couldn’t care less about anything besides her. 

Seven years of yearning and pain are poured into the kiss and you can feel all the unspoken words flowing between you. She takes off your shirt, meaning you have to break away for a second. But it’s too long and you kiss her ferociously again to make up for it and all the other times you could’ve had her lips on you but didn’t. 

She digs her nails into your waist and you whimper, rolling your hips against her lap, feeling more alive than you have in forever. Her hot breath is panting into your mouth and your teeth clash and it’s so messy, but it’s absolutely perfect. 

Your fingers entangle into her long hair and she unbuttons your jeans but you pull back. Her eyes widen like she’s afraid she did something wrong. “Inside,” you whisper and she chuckles. 

“Just like old times,” she agrees and opens the door so you can step off and drag her upstairs, still shirtless. Your parents have gone to bed so you drop the pie crust off in the kitchen and carefully pull her up the stairs. She pushes you against the wall when you’re halfway up and claims your swollen lips with her own and she has to swallow your moan when she fits a thigh between yours. “Gotta be quiet, babe,” she reminds you and you want her to just fuck you right there. 

But you know that would be dangerous, and you don’t want your parents to catch you and Agatha again (the one time they did was mortifying) so you reluctantly push her back and lead the way to your bedroom. 

It’s the first time you’ve been back in it and you momentarily lose yourself in reminiscing about the trophies on your dresser and the stuffed animals on the bed and the pictures from all the shows you acted in throughout your youth. 

“They didn’t touch a thing, did they?” Agatha remarks, also remembering clearly what your room used to look like. 

You can still see hers in the back of your mind if you try and wonder how much it’s changed since you last saw it. 

Agatha advances on you, pulls you back in for a bruising kiss, sucks your bottom lip into her mouth. 

“Wait,” you say, a strand of saliva connecting your mouth to hers and her eyes darken. “What about Rio?” 

You don’t know much about Rio, only that she was in your grade in middle and high school. She was more of the wallflower type, intense and brooding and introverted. And weird. 

Agatha laughs breathlessly. “How’d you hear about that?” 

“Mrs. Davis,” you say and Agatha’s brows furrow. 

“Who?” 

You roll your eyes. “My neighbor? Remember, she would always bring cookies for the holidays? She said you’d been ‘out and about’ with Rio.” 

Agatha snorts. “Yeah, like once or twice. Nosy neighbor isn’t a good look for her. But I promise you, I’m not with Rio. Or with anyone else.” 

And that’s good enough for you to drag her back into a kiss and she walks you backwards, hands traveling up your bare back to unclasp your bra, until your thighs hit the bed. She pushes you down and kneels in front of you and your breath hitches. 

You forgot what a pretty sight Agatha on her knees for you was. 

You help her unbutton your jeans and you shimmy them off and she mouths at your pussy over your underwear. Your head falls back at the feeling. 

It’s been so long since you’ve had sex that simply making out with Agatha has you already dripping. 

Or maybe it’s just the fact that it’s her. 

“God, I missed you so much,” Agatha groans against you and her hot breath makes you whimper. 

You sit up on your elbows so you can watch her slide off your underwear and then she drags her tongue slowly through your folds. 

“Fuck, Agatha,” you whine when she swirls your wetness around your clit and you reach down to grip her hair. 

She scrapes her teeth against your inner thigh in the way that always had your hips bucking and this time is no different. “Shh, superstar. Unless you want your parents interrupting.” 

You nod and bite down on your lip as she resumes eating you out. She remembers every single thing that makes you tick: how to lick up inside you and curl her tongue to hit that spot and then suck on your clit and rake her nails down your thighs. She goes slowly at first, like she’s getting reacquainted with your pussy, but then she loses herself in the taste and her small noises of pleasure only add fuel to the fire growing inside your stomach. 

Agatha starts sloppily devouring you, trying to lap up every drop of your wetness, and your hips are grinding up and down on her face, chasing the intense pleasure you haven’t gotten in seven years. 

No one else came close to making you feel how she did. 

“Agatha,” you moan quietly and she sucks roughly on your clit, thrusting two fingers in and twisting them roughly and it sends you spiraling over the edge. Your mind goes white and you can’t think for a good minute as she continues to slowly fuck you through the aftershocks. 

She settles back onto her heels, face glistening with your wetness and the biggest smirk, and you yank her to you by the hair and lick it off her. And then you shove her over so she’s laying on the bed and you climb on top of her, positioning your weight on an arm next to her head. 

You lean down and kiss her softly while your other hand pushes up the hem of her dress and cups her over her underwear. You gasp when you feel how absolutely soaked they are. 

“Did the girls in LA fuck you that well?” Agatha asks smugly, still trying to regain some control even though she’s under you. 

You pretend to think about it for a moment, tracing her slit through the cloth and watching Agatha’s face contort with pleasure. “Hmm, not really,” you answer honestly. You push her panties to the side and gather her wetness with two fingers. “And how about Rio?” 

A teasing glint lights up in her eyes but when she opens her mouth to answer, you press those fingers into her and a groan comes out instead. You start slow and build up into a faster pace, also remembering exactly what she liked. 

When you feel her walls flutter around you, you rub her clit with your thumb and she clenches tightly, a strangled gasp tearing itself from her throat. You curl and scissor your fingers and squeeze a third one in on a particularly harsh thrust and her body jerks. Her hair is fawned out on your pillow underneath her head and you almost lose focus while thinking about how beautiful she is. 

“There we go, superstar,” she keens when you drop your head and start to suck kisses into her neck, wanting to leave a mark. You’re leaving in two days and you want her to still see the proof of what you did to her after you’re gone. 

You nibble at the skin half covered by her dress until she takes the hint and pulls down the top so she can take her breasts out, not even bothering to take off her bra, and you roll her nipple on your tongue. She gasps when you tug at it with your teeth and you can feel her throb around you. 

“Fuck, babe, I’m so close,” she says and it’s the old pet name in that desperate tone that makes you find the extra energy to fuck her even harder. 

She cums all over your fingers with your mouth on her boob and she tugs you in for a hot, filthy kiss. When you pull out of her, she takes your fingers into her mouth and sucks them clean and you feel the heat in your gut come back. 

But you flop on the bed next to her and she wraps an arm around you, running a hand through your hair. 

“I really have missed you,” she says and it almost hurts you how sweet it is. You smile and try not to cry. 

“I’ve missed you so much. I wish I didn’t have to go back so soon,” you say wistfully, part of you hoping that she asks you to postpone. 

But she just looks down at your lips and back up to your eyes. “You should come back more. I’m not saying that we have to…you know, or anything, but it would be nice to stay in touch.” 

You know that it would be just as unfair and selfish for you to ask her to wait for you as it would be for her to ask you to stay for her. So you nod and don’t ask for anything.

“Yeah, I can do that,” you say hoarsely and she cuddles against you even tighter. 

Sleep comes faster than it has in years and when you wake up, you see that it’s almost 11 am on Christmas. You also can’t remember the last time you slept in this late. Agatha is still sleeping, curled around you like the cutest koala. Her warmth radiates off her and heats you up. 

“Aggie,” you whisper, shaking her. Her eyes blink open and she gives you a lazy smile. 

“I’ve missed waking up like this,” she rasps and there’s no denying the way your cheeks burn. She must see it too because she pulls you closer and allots her thigh between yours, guiding you with a hand on your hips. 

You’re already needy, but you don’t know how much longer before your parents bring it upon themselves to get you out of bed. “Agatha, it’s late–” 

“Better be quick then,” she teases and forces you down harder against the muscles in her leg. She flexes and sounds spill out of your mouth. “Yeah, superstar, just like that. You’re doing so well for me, babe, you look so nice and pretty riding my thigh like that.” 

The memories from last night, the dirty words, the way she feels under you, and the fact that you’re having sex with Agatha has you cumming all over her leg in no time. 

You get out of bed and attempt to find some nicer clothes to put on to go open presents with your family while Agatha lounges in your bed. 

“What time do you leave tomorrow?” She asks. 

“We’re going to the airport around ten. Flight leaves at noon. What are you doing tonight? I might be able to get out for a bit after Christmas dinner.” 

“Still making the pumpkin pie?” She asks and you smile and nod. She had come over for quite a few dinners and helped you make them. “Um, tonight my niece and nephews are coming into town. So I don’t think I’ll be able to get out. What about tomorrow morning?” 

You frown. “My parents are going to take me out for brunch. I’m sure they’d be okay if you came, though.” 

“I know you don’t get to see them often, I don’t want to impose.” 

And for the first time since the grocery store, there’s the awkwardness again. You can’t help but think about where the two of you would be if you had stayed. You wouldn’t have the money or the fame or the experiences, but you’d have a simpler life, a life with the woman you think you’ve always loved. 

It would be enough, right now. 

“Well,” you say finally. “I’ll make more of an effort to come back when I can. It would be good to see my parents, too. And I can give you my personal number. Maybe you can come and see me sometimes as well.” 

“I’d really like that,” Agatha says and you believe her. She grabs her phone from the nightstand and you punch your number in and call yourself so you have hers too. She didn’t change her number. “Can I go out the front door or do I need to sneak out the window like I used to?” 

You laugh at the memories of her climbing the pergola to knock on your window in high school after your parents would go to bed. 

“I think we can try and sneak you out the front door if you want,” you say and she grins. She finally climbs out of your bed and straightens herself up in the vanity while you try not to stare at the marks littering her chest and boobs. 

The two of you quietly step down the hallway and down the stairs and you’re almost to the front door when you hear footsteps. 

“Stan, I think she’s finally awake,” you hear your mom say, voice getting louder as she rounds the corner and she gasps loudly. “Oh my goodness, Agatha! Stan, come look who it is!” 

“She came and stopped by,” you attempt to lie, but your mom shoots you a knowing look and pulls Agatha into a hug. 

“Oh, hey, kiddo! Haven’t seen you in awhile,” your dad says, embracing Agatha once your mom has had her fill. “Do you want to join us?” 

Agatha glances at you and you give her a tight-lipped, pleading smile and she softens. “I would love to, but I should really be getting home. I have some family coming and I need to be there when they arrive.” 

Your parents titter about how it’s a shame and go back into the kitchen. You open the door and step outside with her. 

“I guess this is it,” you say, trying to hide how much it hurts. The first time, she didn’t even come and say goodbye to you, but somehow this feels worse. 

She throws her arms around you tightly and you burrow into her, breathing in her cinnamon scent. “I’ll see you soon though. Let me know when you land tomorrow.” 

You almost tell her that you still love her, but instead you just agree. She pulls back and presses a light kiss to your lips and then she walks away to get into her car. 

She waves at you as she pulls out of the driveway and you stand out there on the porch freezing until you can’t see her anymore. 

But you have her back now, even if it’s just a little part. 

And that’s more than enough for you right now. 

[reiderwriter]

Unfair We're Not Somewhere

Chapter Eight of I Can't Help Myself

Summary: With a little bit of help from someone who could relate a little bit too closely to your situation, Y/N tries to come clean. Tries.

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy symptoms/ general pregnancy things, unsub mentions, plot.

A/N: Chapter Eight! I'm so excited for where the rest of this series is going to go, though I do feel like people are going to be a bit annoyed by this one lmao. Let me know your thoughts in the comments below or in an ask! Don't be too mad...

Masterlist || Add yourself to the tag list

You sat quietly in the clinic as you waited for the pharmacist to fill your prescription - a simple pregnancy multivitamin that was supposed to help your food go down, make your hair shinier, and fix all your problems.

You wondered if the bottle could tell Spencer you were pregnant. You wondered if it could make him magically okay with that and prepare him for fatherhood, too. 

Your phone buzzed, and you surfaced from the field of thoughts you'd been lost in as you checked it. 

“Outside,” an unknown number had sent. You took that as your queue, stood up, and left the clinic, trying your best to avoid looking back at the small boy Spencer had been playing with. 

You weren't sure if you were going to have a boy or a girl yet. You didn't mind either, though you'd always envisioned yourself with a big enough family that you assumed at least one of each was inevitable. Though even you had to admit how stereotypically nuclear that was, and how only 18% of the country was living that was lying anyway. 

You shoved psychology from your head for a few minutes and let yourself breathe.

“Y/N!” JJ signalled from the driver's side of her still running SUV. She waved slightly, and you smiled politely as you quickly paced around to the side of her vehicle and got in. 

“Hi,” you said, unsure if you should introduce yourself or not. She'd been in the office the day you'd been taken into custody (protection), but you still had yet to speak to her. She'd been exempt from protective duty so far due to her status as a senior field agent and the fact that she had two kids and a husband at home waiting for her. 

You were sad she was the anomaly in the BAU, the only one with someone waiting on her. 

“I'm Y/N,” you said, still unsure if you should hold out a hand or not. You hadn't made the best impression on most of Spencer's colleagues, and while you didn't think there was much point in trying, you still couldn't bring yourself to be intentionally blasé. 

“I know, you're all we've been talking about for weeks,” the woman laughed, pulling out of the clinic car park and smiling at you. 

“Oh, right. Case. Of course, I've heard you probably know more about me than I know about myself.” 

“We have a profile, sure, but that's not what I meant.” 

You nodded awkwardly and stared out the window for a second, the sky darkening slightly as it prepared to rain. 

You drove for a few minutes before JJ spoke up again. 

“I don't know if Emily told you, but it's actually my day off today,” she said, turning off into a cul-de-sac you'd never seen before. 

“Oh, oh my god, I'm so sorry. I could've just got a taxi or something or just… gotten over myself. You didn't have to-” 

“Yes, I did,” she looked at you for a second, cocking her head to the side in a gesture that said, ‘and you know why.’ It was a look only a friend would give, and you felt an instant connection with her. 

How had Spencer found so many wonderful, big-hearted women to surround himself with, and how could you get in on it? 

You supposed, by letting him get you pregnant, you'd probably found a cheat code for whatever the answer might have been. 

“Anyway, it's my day off, so I promised my boys a fun day at home with mommy. We're doing finger painting and macaroni art. I hope you don't mind getting messy.” 

“Wha-? Me? Oh. No, not at all,” you tried to seem nonchalant, but your heart suddenly beat faster now that you were faced with this unexpected opportunity. As a lecturer, you'd been surrounded by kids professionally for years now. 18 to 21 year old kids. The kind that already had defined morals, world views, and, secretly, alcohol tolerances. The last time you'd encountered any kind of child younger than 18 was when you yourself were under 18.

The joys of toiling away at a doctorate for the better half of your adult life. You knew how to talk to professors and scholars. You were absolutely scared shitless of interacting with a kid. 

“H-How old are they?” You asked, trying to sound polite but falling somewhere between anxious and terrified with a simple stutter. 

“Well, Henry is turning 8 in November, and Michael is just about 22 months. He's just about talking, which is as fun as you can expect.” 

Her voice was tired, but there was genuine affection there, love for her kids and pride. You wondered if your voice would change if you'd suddenly begin speaking like that, too, about something other than a paper submitted to a journal or a job opportunity. 

She pulled into a street parking space and turned off the engine as two bright haired little boys came bouncing up the path of their garden to greet her, stopping at the gate. 

“Mommy! Michael got glitter on the carpet, and Daddy said we shouldn't tell you.” 

“And you have no sense of loyalty when a pretty face comes around, do you?”

Hopping out of the car, you heard JJ's husband drawl as she greeted him with a kiss. She'd probably only taken half an hour to pick you up, but they were still greeting each other so warmly. For a second, you wondered what that would be like before you remembered throwing yourself into Spencer's arms the night before. Your face heated as you stood awkwardly at the side of the car, trying not to cradle your stomach as you watched the family interact. 

Would your baby ever get that tall? Would it have brown eyes like Spencer, or one's more similar to your own? His hair was curly. Maybe your baby would get hair that waved like his, too. 

After all, JJ's kids seemed like perfect compromises between her and her husband. Other people's kids didn't, though. You wondered a lot of things before JJ gestured you over again. 

“Henry, Michael, this is Aunt Y/N. She's going to do those crafts with us today - after we've locked away the glitter and thrown away the key.” 

You laughed as she wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pushed you forward into the chaos of two kids under ten. 

You were a little startled as the smaller one - Michael - grabbed your hand. He had a pacifier in his mouth, though he was probably outgrowing it, and he stared up at you with big, wide eyes, blinking and sizing you up as he toddled along beside you. 

Your heart grew three sizes, and you felt sorry for ever being afraid of interacting with the kids. 

JJ whispered to her husband quickly as you entered the LaMontagne household, and he greeted you quickly. 

“So you're Spencer's lady friend. It's nice to meet you. It's nice that you're real. Honestly, I was getting a little-” 

A look from JJ cut him off, though he did still seem a bit confused. 

“I'm sorry, am I under the wrong impression? JJ said you were pregnant with Spencer's baby, y'all aren't…” 

“Oh my god-” you whispered, suddenly panicking again but whispering just in case. You weren't sure if the pair was religious, and though you certainly weren't, it probably wasn't the best time to blaspheme. You needed as much god as existed in the world. 

“So, does everyone know?” You asked JJ, trying to keep your voice bright and calm, so Michael didn't take too much of an interest and grow frustrated by hushed tones. You knew enough about child development and psychology, it translated over, right? 

“Everyone who's observant. Luke noticed the pregnancy vitamins in your bag, Tara was talking about your mood swings in the office the other day. I guess you told Emily earlier, and I have two kids.” 

You nodded at the answer. 

“And Spencer?” 

“You haven't told him yet?” JJ asked, slightly surprised. 

“If I told him, you'd know.” 

“Well, you're right on that. He's not the most easy-going during pregnancy,” JJ laughed and steered you into the living space, where your de facto art studio had been set up for the day, along with the offending glitter bomb. 

“Really? You thought you could keep that a secret?” 

“Well, of anyone was going to find it, it was going to be my beautiful, smart, funny, profiler Wife,” Will said, giving her a small peck on the cheek as she rolled her eyes at him. “I'm clocking in now. Call me if you need anything.” 

You waved him off, and sat down with the kids. 

JJ started the craft and then planned your hasty escape as the two boys were enraptured by making the perfect macaroni necklace, dusting it in objectively too much glitter as they proudly created their art. 

In the kitchen, she handed you a mug, and you sipped it quietly as she began again. 

“So, you're not dating?” 

“Nope.”

“And he doesn't know you're pregnant?” 

“No.” You took another sip and shifted from one foot to the other. 

You knew what was coming next. It was what you'd gotten next from Emily, from Penelope, from yourself when you'd thought about it for longer than ten seconds. You needed to tell him. 

“Okay. What's your next move?” 

You were so shocked you almost splashed the hot tea over the mug you held, close to burning yourself as you turned to face her. 

“I… what?” 

“Well, what's your next move? You're what, five months along? You're not going to be able to hide it for much longer. And you have to think about maternity leave, your hospital stay, and names, and who's going to drive you to the hospital. And obviously, how you're going to pay the hospital fee, and then custody and child support.”

“Oh god…” 

“And you also have to sort your relationship out with Spencer. So where are you starting?” 

It wasn't a question that didn't have an answer. JJ was staring at you, waiting for one as you opened and closed your mouth, head suddenly so empty you almost forgot what you were talking about. 

“He doesn't like me,” you suddenly blurted and wished you hadn't, face crumpling as you physically cringed at your own words. 

“Y/N, he was telling us about your toothbrush yesterday. Part of the office has a theory that he made up this case as a reason to get closer to you.” 

Again, you felt the heat blossom on tour skin as you looked away, taking another sip. 

“We don't do anything but argue.” 

“You do at least one other thing,” JJ said, hands on her hips as she confronted you. 

“No, that doesn't count. We were still arguing while we were doing…that.” 

“TMI,” she groaned as you fanned yourself. “Y/N, I know for a fact that Spencer is at least half in love with you. If you're absolutely sure you don't feel the same way, you need to at least let him down easy.”

“I…. I don't know. He's infuriating sometimes, but then he's so smart and annoying. But he's pretty great at comforting me. And the, uh, the other stuff, that was good, too.” 

“Don't need to-” 

“Like really good. Like, I'm not surprised I ended up pregnant practically first time good-” 

“Back on topic, please!” JJ whisper shouted, throwing her hands up as you zipped your mouth shut.

“You like him,” she said. 

You sighed and finally gave in. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I like him.” 

“Great. What next?” 

“Next, I tell him I'm pregnant and make him hate me for a while.” 

She patted you on the back and poised you another mug of tea before leading you back over to the kids and sitting beside them at the table. 

“We can plan something later. For now, macaroni art is calling.”

You weren't sure if it was the stern, practical pep-talk from JJ or the little tiny grasp of your hand from Michael. Maybe it was even Henry's goodbye of ‘see you soon, Auntie Y/N’ that had you suddenly invigorated, but you suddenly kicked yourself into gear. 

The pregnancy wasn't going to put itself on pause while you worked up the courage to tell Spencer about it. You had to do it. 

JJ dropped you off at home at 6 p.m., knowing that Spencer would be back at the apartment shortly. 

“You're sure you don't need me to stay up there with you? The commute can get a bit long this time of night, Spencer could be anywhere between 15 and 45 minutes.”

“No, I think… I think I need some time to think about how I'm going to do this. I need some alone time.”

She nodded quietly and sent you off after calling Spencer and giving him an update on your whereabouts. 

You paced the apartment wondering what the best option was. 

You could go for the bookshelf again, though it was still organised into your first message. You'd not moved a book in that stack at all, and surprisingly, neither had Spencer. 

Running into your room, you grabbed the pair of baby shoes you'd thrown into your bag from your apartment. Maybe if you left them on the shelf next to the books…? 

You put them there and frowned, wondering if he'd be able to see them from the door when he walked in. He was so used to the surroundings of his house that he really didn't check for irregularities. 

You moved them to the coffee table. Then you wondered if you should just hand them to him when he walked in. 

“Spencer. I am..pregnant,” you practised, looking into the bathroom mirror as you tried to force a smile. 

“Spencer. We're pregnant. No, not a chance,” you sighed. 

“Spencer, I have a parasite growing in me. I've had it for five months now, and then I'll have it for another four and hopefully a long time after that as well.” 

That one was mostly a joke. Mostly. 

“Spencer, I… We're going to have a baby.” You looked down at your bump again and decided that was probably your best option. It wasn't a state. It wasn't a condition or a parasite. It was a baby. 

You rubbed your stomach again and looked up, wiping away tears from the corner of your eye as you composed yourself again. 

The doorbell rang, and your heart race picked up. It was time. Spencer was home, and you were going to tell him. 

Suddenly, you were filled with excitement, with happiness. You ran to the door, stepping on the sofa to get there quicker as you ran to pull it open. 

Maybe it was the pregnancy brain fog, but you forgot where you were. 

Spencer Reid lived in this apartment. He didn't need to knock on the door or ring the doorbell. He'd never done it before. But you'd already swung the door open quickly, and you were so relaxed and ready for it to be him that when a hand extended and covered your mouth with a cloth, thick with a scent that had your body protesting, you could do nothing but crumple to the floor with your hands cradling yourself, protecting the life growing within you. 

🔖@mindfullycriminal @aliteralsemicolon @r-3dlips @alexafromamazon15 @jasf444 @subunitless @thebloomingeagle @lackingoriginalthoughts @empressgraytea @2hiigh2cry @jiuseoks @readinglatenights @placidus @dreamsarebig

@pisceslovrr @waywardgoddess66 @tampon_racecar @kbaby-024 @luvdella @feyresqueen @a1dyn @pleasantwitchgarden @kolasbombaf @lovehadlovelost @kissesforspence @moonchildooh @bubbleebubz @theoraekenslover @melagem02 @calypso-read

@ari-aurelia @flipsideoflife @mggreidsreads @@farfromthehomelands @spicyspirit @donttrustlove @chicaconfudidaycuriosa @ivet4 @nox-xie @sarakay-gvf @miss-ev @@nvrlandqueen @delicatelittleworld @nokjhg @measure-in-pain @famouslynerdy @batrensworld @batrensworld

@Cattosmush @im-this-girl @Sarcasm-and-stiles @lovemelaunic @lllucere@ Cattosmush @lariclifford @daphnesutton Ccatstars @Iniyalovesall @solemnarration @emma-e-a @haygirleyhay Mel-knee @broadwaytraaaaash @Wildflowerpassion @itshardtopickaname @Timidquindim

@yourfavoritefangirl @waywardxrhea @Aliceofonederland @joshuafatubaee @jc10622 @timeboundkate @Roslxnxx @Gensthoughts23 @marvelshittt @lavvylove @Slitherss @mythumbhurts @Xiaexact @Honestlyloving @maryyy-8

@timeboundkate @justdamnpeachy @awezomezauce @darling006 @thefalseapp @chicaconfundidaycuriosa @fabulouslynerdy @short-mess @maeganme @crazyunsexycool @redmoonsofvenus @supraveng @lilscb @jackierose902109 @thebooklocket

[cosmerelists]

Attending a Party Thrown by Each Radiant Order

As requested by anon. :)

You've been invited to a party! Actually, ten parties. But the twist is that each party is thrown and attended only by a single Radiant order and also we're in some kind of quasi-modern AU. What would each party be like?

[Previously: Radiant Orders play boardgames, have sleepovers, and go to musicals]

1. The Lightweaver Party

The invitation is a glossy, stylized illustration of a hand holding a wine glass--a true work of art. You later find out that every invitation is unique; no two are the same. The invitation leads you to a large ballroom-esque hall. "What is your name tonight?" asks a masked figure at the door. "Uh...Fred?" you say. You had not planned this. "Welcome...Fred," they say and let you in. It is shadowy inside, perhaps because all of the light comes from fairy lights and electric candles. Everyone is masked--including you, as per the invitation. People glide about, talking and laughing in low voices. It's not unwelcoming exactly, but certainly...surreal.

2. The Windrunner Party

The invitation is a couple of dudes saying, "Hey, there's a thing. Wanna come?" when you run into them at the bar. "The thing" appears to be some kind of picnic at a local park: you were told it was a potluck, so you did bring a macaroni salad, but the focus seems to be the large pot of stew that one of the men is making. There's a lot of eating and laughter and sunshine, and frankly a lot of hot people in uniform. You have a good time. Even if the Captain is just a little bit glowery the whole time.

3. The Edgedancer Party

A roller skating rink! You haven't been to a roller skating rink in sooo long! You're honestly psyched. As you do your best to skate around, others glide smoothly past you, looking like they were born skating. When you take a break to eat a mediocre but nostalgic corndog, a couple of them sit with you and you get to chatting. You're just at a skating rink, eating a mediocre corndog, but somehow...you've never felt so heard. When you go back to skating, you're skating with maybe a tear in your eye.

4. The Stoneward Party

It's just a party at someone's house, where everyone brings a case of beer or a bottle of wine or a snack food, and everyone drinks out of red solo cups. But you know what the vibe is? Convivial. Like, people are waving you over to join their conversations and asking about your hobbies and at one point? Someone suggests a party game? And everyone plays? Like, it WAS a pretty competitive game of charades, but everyone seemed to be having fun the whole time.

5. The Truthwatcher Party

Their party was at a local bar and on trivia night. The party was immediately pretty boisterous--someone brings up politics, like, immediately, and then everyone is happily shouting their thoughts back and forth across the table. But when trivia time hits, the mood turns serious.

6. The Dustbringer Party

It's in the basement of a warehouse that you're pretty sure is due for demolition. Certainly, it does NOT feel particularly structurally sound and there IS a lot of, like, concrete dust and debris everywhere. But once you get downstairs--well, this is not just a party. This is a rager. There is music and alcohol and drugs if you want 'em, and people are shouting and dancing and generally having a good time. "When you're like us, you GOTTA let loose every once in a while or you go INSANE!" someone says to you at one point. "It's about release?" you say and everyone in a five-foot radius groans at the pun.

7. The Willshaper party

It's drugs. Lots of drugs. Some of them are illegal, some of them aren't, but the people here would definitely scoff if you tried to make that distinction.

8. The Elsecaller Party

Well, it certainly is a very correct party. You receive an RSVP, and it's clear that you are meant to respond. In writing. Which you do. The RSVP lets you know that the party is semiformal, and that the dinner course will begin at precisely 7pm, so you do not even try to do the whole "fashionably late" thing. You are there by 6:55. Good thing, too, because everyone else is already there. "Everyone" being Jasnah and one small, inky man. Have you ever had dinner with your dissertation advisor who is also your mom somehow? Well, then you know how this party went. You were SWEATING the whole time.

9. The Skybreaker Party

When they checked your ID at the entrance to the small event hall they had rented, you laughed and asked if they wanted to make sure you were over 21. Their expression in reply told you that this was not a joke. Inside, there is a cash bar, and some hors d'oeuvre being handed around on plates. The people inside are mostly talking about their recent accomplishments in a way that makes you feel that they are all very stressed and trying to prove something. "It's a test," says a bald man who appeared very suddenly next to you. "A test of what?" you ask, suddenly very afraid. But he is gone.

10. The Bondsmith Party

You're at a party, and it's just you and two other people. The two other people? Married. You feel like you're crashing a date. They're being very nice and you are being included in every conversation but you're also literally the third at a party with only two other people who are married. You can't help but think this would be WAY less awkward if there were just ONE more Bondsmith. But who knows if THAT will ever happen!

[reallyromealone]

Hello there!

I thought of a cute scenario a couple days ago and wanted to send it to you then but your asks were closed. So here I am, ominously crawling out of the bushes like some Lovecraftian horror to ask you this.

Can you write Bonten with a child reader that makes them something during arts and crafts class!

Like; a warped modeling clay ashtray for Takeomi, a too small felt eyepatch for Kakucho, a messily beaded bracelet that spells "kill all traitors" for Sanzu, a dried mochi made of playdough for Mochizuki, a papermache name placard for Koko's desk, a poorly drawn picture of a dog for Rindou, a construction paper card for Ran and a macaroni heart for Mikey.

You can do all of them, one of them, a few of them and even none of them; whatever you're comfortable with.

Please and thank you, regardless of if you decide to write this or not; you just reading it was a kind enough gesture to be honest. Have a wonderful morning/afternoon/evening/night!

Absolutely this is adorable

🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐

Father's day.

Something Bonten didn't think about before (name), the three year old starting preschool and boy did he have his work cut out for him.

Thankfully they were doing many fathers day activities in his preschool, the Bonten men putting in crazy money for the highest education thru could give their little one.

"Hewr papa, a neck-o-lass" (name) said handing Koko a painted macaroni necklace that was frankly tragic looking but Koko thought it was absolutely precious.

"An ass-tray!" (Name) proudly presented the frankly fucked up looking ashtray to Takeomi as the men tried to not bust out laughing at what the boy said "Ash Tray (name), and thank you" (name) smiled at the praise and the head pat before going to the next father in the list: Mikey.

It was again macaroni art, on construction paper was a glittery macaroni mess shaped like a heart with a 'i Lov Yu papa!' At the bottom and Mikey silently cooed at it "thank you (name)" he said softly and (name) continued his mission.

"Moh-cheey for you papa!" (Name) handed Mochi a lump of clay with glitter and a smiley face on it "very unique bud, thank you" it was ugly as hell and it was in fact going on his home office desk.

"We made bacelets" (name) handed Sanzu a pipe cleaner bracelet with poorly put on beats and it was ill fitting but the words "cool papa" warmed his heart "thank you.." when he had the chance he planned to replace it with a more durable bracelet strap.

He wanted to keep this forever.

Bonten tried not to laugh at Kakuchos gift, a poorly shaped felt eyepatch glued together.

"For your ouchie!"

"...thanks..."

"Ok this is being used for work" Koko said holding the cardboard name plate with "papa" written in crayon and stickers on it.

"This is going on the fridge!" Rindō said at the shitty drawing of their dog Coconut, looked like a bunch of scribbles but the "Koko-nut" on top dignified what it was.

Ran followed with his construction paper card and (name) beamed at their praise "now, why don't we go out to eat, hm?"

[illaisland]

Hi @catharsisxf ! Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays, pal (affectionate)! I am not much of a writer (or a visual artist tbh), but I tried to make a few things I thought you'd like based on your secret santa survey answers. My apologies for not being very consistent with the daily well wishes, but I hope these past few weeks have been easier/lighter for you. <3 Gifts for you are under the break...

Gift one:

I made a series of images based on a line from a scene you liked in "The Unnatural" where Mulder is encouraging Scully to forget about her worries and focus on hitting the ball/having fun/enjoying life. I found a manip where they are kissing in that scene and modified it further.

With the quote:

Without any text:

And i also made a terrible picmix version for giggles. The watermark covered the quote cuz I didn't how picmix works. 😅🙃

Gift 2:

I also made you a video based on a Jeff Buckley song, however, Kapwing decided to cockblock me and wouldn't let me download what I created for you. So I had to screen record it. Which means the audio is *TERRIBLE* and the already iffy resolution quality is also not good. So, I apologize again for such a macaroni fridge art ass gift, but I tried, friend. 😬 😓 The video I made:

The song and lyrics that inspired it:

Lover, You Should've Come Over

Jeff Buckley

Looking out the door I see the rain Fall upon the funeral mourners Parading in a wake of sad relations As their shoes fill up with water

Maybe I'm too young To keep good love from going wrong But tonight you're on my mind So... you'll never know

Broken down and hungry for your love With no way to feed it Where are you tonight? Child, ya know how much I need it

Too young to hold on And too old to just break free and run

Sometimes a man gets carried away When he feels like should be having his fun Much too blind to see the damage he's done Sometimes a man must awake to find that Really he has no one

So I'll wait for you, love And I'll burn Will I ever see your sweet return? Oh, will I ever learn? Oh-oh, lover, you should've come over 'Cause it's not too late

Lonely is the room, the bed is made The open window lets the rain in Burning in the corner is the only one who dreams He had you with him

My body turns And yearns for a sleep that won't ever come It's never over My kingdom for a kiss upon her shoulder It's never over All my riches for her smiles When I've slept so soft against her It's never over All my blood for the sweetness of her laughter It's never over She is the tear that hangs inside my soul forever

Oh, but maybe I'm just too young To keep good love from going wrong

Oh-oh-oh, lover You should've come over, yeah, yes Yes, I feel too young to hold on And much too old to break free and run Too deaf, dumb and blind to see the damage I've done Sweet lover, you should've come over

Oh, love, well I've waited for you Lover, lover, lover Lover, love, love, love, love, love, love! Lover, you should've come over 'Cause it's not too late

[unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin]

Macaroni Art

Summary: Your daughter desperately wants someone to come to her Father’s Day party at Daycare and Kenny steps up.

Warnings: single mom!reader, your daughter is about 4 years old, daughters birth father isn’t discussed much, it’s just accepted that he’s not around, lots of fluff, maybe a tiny bit of angst

An: I don’t know why but the idea of wrestlers being sweet to their kids has been on my mind. I haven’t written for wrestling for a while and haven’t had the time to really watch it so please be kind of it’s not the best

Taglist: @peachmango-kombucha @kcloveswrestling @writtingrose @xkennyxomegax @melissahausen @fiskers7136 @bellalutionn @tummyyellin @legit9thlunaticwarrior @auburnwrites @thesusbunny

“Be careful!” You scolded your young daughter as she ran into the house the moment you had the door open. Your arms were occupied with your work bag and her backpack, making closing the door slightly difficult. Once you were inside you kicked your shoes off and leaned against the wall, taking a deep breath. The smell of food filled your nose, and you smiled slightly at what would be waiting for you when you went into the kitchen.

You set your own bag, keeping your daughter’s backpack over your shoulder as you walked further into your home. You could hear voices as you turned into the kitchen, seeing your daughter in Kenny’s arms as she told him about her day. Kenny nodded along as he stirred something on the stove.

“That sounds like so much fun” Kenny told her before he glanced up to see you. “Why don’t you go wash your hands for dinner?” He set the little girl down and she happily ran off, leaving you alone in the kitchen.

“I think I like this,” you set your daughter’s bag down before walking cover to Kenny, your arms wrapping around his neck while one of his wrapped around your waist.

“You like what?”

“You being here to cook for us when we get home.” You said with a smile. Kenny’s own smile matched yours as he placed a quick kiss on your lips.

“I’ll do it as long as I can.”

You and Kenny had known each other for years, you had been a promoter for different wrestling promotions over the years and you had worked with him plenty of times. If you asked any of your friends they would say they thought you were both dating back then, but you weren’t. Instead you ended up pregnant with your daughter and you left your traveling job for a more stable one.

“All clean!” Your daughter yelled as she came running back into the kitchen. You turned to her, holding your hands on your hips as you looked at her.

“What have we said about running, little missy?” You asked, watching as she blushed.

“Only walking.”

“Exactly. Kenny’s cooking in here and there’s hit stuff, you’ve got to be careful.” You picked her up as you walked over to the table. Kenny started to make plates behind you while you sat her at the table.

“What did you do at daycare today?” You asked as you started to pull things out of the bag. You let the little girl explain the different art projects as Kenny brought the plates of food over.

“…and you’ll come to school tomorrow!” She cheered, causing you to pause for a second.

“You mean mama will drop you off at school?”

“Silly mama,” she shook her head, confusing you further. “Come to lunch.” She pointed to the stack of papers that were meant for parents, little notes and reminders. You grabbed the one for today and your heart sank as you read it.

Good Evening Parents,

We’d like to remind parents that tomorrow will be our Father’s Day celebration at the daycare. Any guardian is welcome to come in for a picnic lunch and games, and at the end of the day students will give out the presents they’ve made in class. We understand not all families may have a father so any guardian is welcome and gifts were to be given to whoever the child wished to make it for. We hope to see you all there!

“Y/n?” Kenny tapped your shoulder as you finished reading the paper. You glanced at him before looking over at your daughter who had begun eating the spaghetti Kenny had made. She had a happy grin on her face as she ate, causing your chest to tighten.

“Excuse me…” you whispered as you pulled away from Kenny and went to the living room. You could feel tears welling up in your eyes, and once you were alone you let them fall. How could you have forgotten? You had meant to take the day off to either go to class with her or keep her home that day, but it somehow slipped your mind. Between everyday stuff and helping Kenny after his surgeries a day off was the last thing on your mind.

As you cried a pair of strong arms enveloped you in a hug. “Why are you crying, sweetheart?” Kenny gently asked, but you were too upset to verbally answer so you just shoved the paper into his hand. Kenny kept one arm around you as he read over the note.

“I was super to take the day off,” you sobbed into his chest. “I forgot and now she’s gonna be the only kid without someone there and it’s gonna break her heart. I’m such a shitty mom, how did I let this happen-

“Hey,” Kenny pulled you away from him so he could see your face. “First off, you are not a shitty mom. You raised y/d/n for three years on your own, and you did an amazing job with that little girl. Secondly, you need to take a breath, calm down a bit.” You nodded as you tried to take a few deep breaths and pull yourself together.

“She could always stay home with me tomorrow.”

“She already knows they’re doing fun stuff, she won’t want to miss. Besides, don’t you have meeting tomorrow with the bucks and Khan?”

“I’m sure they wouldn’t mind her in the background, but there is another option.” You waited for him to continue, but he seems almost nervous to. “I don’t want to over step, I know we’ve only been together a year and y/d/n had only known me a few months, but if she really wants someone there I’d be happy to go.”

Kenny’s words shocked you a bit, not expecting him to offer something like that. Sure, Kenny had been great with your daughter in the months he’d known her, but you weren’t sure how he felt about taking a parental role yet. You and y/d/n were a package deal, but you didn’t want to push a role onto him he didn’t want. She was your daughter, not his. As long as he was kind to her that’s all that mattered in your eyes.

“Are- Are you sure?” You asked him. “I don’t want you to feel pressured to go to this. Plus, you have work stuff tomorrow.

“Out of everyone that would understand missing work for something with your kids, Matt and Nick will understand completely. And Tony is pretty understanding in general.” Kenny tried to tell you but you were still unsure. “Y/n, I love you. I want to be in your life for as long as you’ll let me, and I know that means being in her life too. I don’t want to replace her dad if that’s not what you want, but I do care about her. I will be there for her tomorrow if you’ll let me be.”

You felt more tears well up in your eyes as you thought about what he was offering. Kenny was making the step from ‘moms friend’ to being something more for y/d/n. “You’d really do that for her?”

“Absolutely.”

You couldn’t help the smile as you hugged Kenny close to your body. “Thank you,” you whispered into his neck, some of his curly hair getting stuck to your wet cheeks. “Thank you so much.”

————————

“Mama!” Was the first thing you heard as you opened the door after getting home from work. You hadn’t needed to pick your daughter up today due to Kenny going with her.

“Hi baby!” You kneeled down to greet her, pulling the little girl into a hug as she ran at you. “Mama missed you so much today!”

“Kenny came to school!” She excitedly said, making you smile.

“That’s what I heard, what did you do?” You stood up and walked further into the house with your daughter on your hip as she babbled about her day. You could smell pizza coming from the kitchen, and you figured Kenny must have ordered out today as you found the man on the couch.

“Hey y/d/n, why don’t you go get the thing for mama?” Kenny suggested, having your daughter quickly wiggle out of your arms. You let her down and walked over to the couch, sitting down and cuddling into his side.

“How was school?”

“Amazing. You should have seen it, she was so excited to have me there. She proudly told everyone that my name is Kenny and I’m her mamas boyfriend.”

“Did you get any pictures?”

“Lots, I’ll show you later-“

“Mama!” Y/d/n came running into the room with a gift bag. “Happy Father’s Day!” She excitedly said as she shoved the bag into your lap.

“Is this for me?” You asked and she nodded.

“Open,” she pointed at the bag and you followed her directions. You pulled out a small keychain with her fingerprints on it, and then a paper with macaroni art.

“Ooo, what’s this, baby?”you asked as you showed her the picture.

“It’s us!” She happily said. “This is you, and me,” she pointed to two blobs. “And this is Kenny. Our family,” she explained.

You felt like your heart was going to explode as you pulled y/d/n up onto your lap. “Babygirl, I love it so so much!” You kissed her cheek happily. “I think we should put the picture up in the living room so everyone can see our family, what do you think Ken?” You tired to look at the man who looked happier then you’d ever seen him.

“I think that’s a great idea.”

[agerefandom]

Turned Around

Fandom: Gravity Falls

Characters: Flips!Dipper and Mabel Pines

Words: 1,350

Summary: It’s Mabel’s day to regress but Dipper is having a hard time being the caregiver today… 

Warnings: panic attack due to feelings of guilt (brief)

Dipper and Mabel might be very different, but they’ve always understood each other when it matters. Sometimes that means Dipper crawling into the closet and sitting beside Mabel while she takes some Sweater Time, and sometimes that means Mabel tossing a new pen to Dipper after he’s chewed through another one. 

Today, Mabel is regressing, and Dipper is helping to keep the chaos to a minimum. 

He likes being an older brother, a lot of the time. He nods when Mabel babbles at him (which isn’t all that different from usual), and he cleans the glitter off her hands before she eats, and he helps to tie her shoes when they go for a walk. It makes him feel responsible and secure. He doesn’t have to worry about Mabel, because she’s right there beside him, and it’s his job to keep her safe: he’s not overstepping or worrying too much, he just has to hold her hand and remind her to look both ways if they’re crossing the street. 

Today, however, Dipper is feeling all wrong. 

He had nightmares last night, which left him feeling distant all day, and classes were a blur of lessons and homework that he wasn’t sure if he’d done correctly. 

But it’s Mabel’s night to regress, and that means it’s Dipper’s night to take care of her, and never mind the fact that his brain feels fuzzy and way too full right now. In two days it’ll be Dipper’s turn to regress, and Mabel will read to him and watch his favourite shows without complaining, and it’ll be fine. 

They’re watching the Lalaloopsie show right now, while Mabel plays with crafts on the floor and gets stickers all over herself. She’s not paying much attention to the chatting dolls on-screen, and Dipper is zoning out while staring at the dancing colours. 

He could ask to put on something with less overloaded visuals, but then Mabel might realize something is wrong, and it might pull her out of regression, and the last thing Dipper wants is to ruin part of their routine. 

“Dip! Dip!” 

“Huh?” Dipper blinks and realizes Mabel is waving her hands at him. “Oh, what’s up, Mabel?” 

“Dip! Give!” 

“Give you…” Dipper assesses Mabel’s art, which is mostly glued-down macaroni with some cat stickers scattered generously across the paper. “More pasta?” 

“Dip!!!!” Mabel waves her hands more insistently. 

“Ohhhhh, you want a hug,” Dipper laughs, and slides down to the floor to indulge his baby sister. She throws herself into his lap, a welcome wave of stickers and warm woolen sweater and hair that immediately gets into Dipper’s mouth. 

Spitting out his sister’s hair as subtly as possible, Dipper wraps his arms around Mabel and leans his head against hers. She’s just so warm, and familiar, and the weight of her grounds Dipper more than anything so far today. 

“Dip?” 

Oh, Dipper might have been holding on for too long. It’s hard to let her go, with how comfortable this is. 

In fact, Dipper realizes, this is not good. He should have stayed on the chair. He’s too comfortable, and his brain is finally letting him fall into a quietude, but he’s supposed to be taking care of his sister, not getting all quiet and small and comfy, no matter how much he wants it… 

“Dipper?” 

Now he’s really done it, Mabel’s tone is changing to one of concern, and he still can’t unwrap his arms from her. 

“Dipper, is it bad? Do you need space?” Ironic, isn’t it, that Mabel is asking if Dipper needs space while he’s clinging to her so unstoppably. He manages to shake his head at her question, and is rewarded with Mabel’s arms coming around him in return, holding him close, and that’s definitely a big sister hug, he’s totally messed this up- 

“Dipper, shhh, breathe.” 

Right, yeah, breathing. 

Dipper gasps in a breath and then lets it out slowly, trying to force down the alarms that were ringing in his head. It feels like there’s a black hole in his stomach, sucking him down and in, trying to crumple his entire body into itself out of guilt and frustration. 

He opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. I’m sorry, Dipper thinks to himself, and then he tries to say it to Mabel, and there’s something in his throat that just won’t let it out. 

“It’s okay, Dipper,” Mabel soothes, patting the back of his head. “You’re just freaking out, it’s not going to last forever.” 

That’s his reassuring big sister, alright. 

Eventually, the black hole dissipates and Dipper’s lungs stop trying to swallow themselves, and some semblance of normalcy returns. 

I’m sorry, he tries to say again, but words are still eluding him. 

Dipper leans back, and Mabel lets him. She keeps her hands on his shoulders, her eyes scanning over him. 

“You okay?” she asks, her face clearly communicating that she knows the answer. 

Dipper feels his shoulders slump, unable to lie to his sister.

Mabel smiles knowingly. “Do you want to be the little twin today?” She taps him on the nose, affectionate and so clearly torn from her own regression. Ready to take care of him, the same way Dipper was supposed to take care of her today. 

Tears fill his eyes, the immediate welling up that never happens unless he’s feeling small. As good as a confession, for a sister who knows him so well. 

“Aw, it’s okay! Don’t cry! We can swap, okay?” Mabel cups his chin, bringing his face up so she can bonk her forehead against his in a slightly painful show of affection. “You can be the little twin today and I’ll be the little twin on Thursday, or we can just play separate on Thursday! I’m not mad, Dipper, don’t cry.” 

Dipper pats the back of Mabel’s hands, the only thanks he can manage at the moment. Regression doesn’t always rob him of his voice, but today it seems that his words are gone. Mabel ruffles his hair and then gets to her feet, hands on her hips. 

“Okay! Let’s get this TV turned off, huh? You want your babytime stuff?” Mabel narrates herself as she turns the room into something kinder to Dipper’s overwhelmed mind, the noise from the TV vanishing, a weight lifting from Dipper’s shoulders at the same time. He hadn’t realized how much the noise had been bothering him until it was gone. 

Mabel appears next to him again, one of Dipper’s chew necklaces dangling from her fingers. Dipper reaches out and catches it, slipping it over his head and popping it into his mouth. It’s shaped like a mushroom and the stem fits into his mouth like a pacifier, but the material is hard enough that he can’t bite through it like he does with most normal pacifiers. 

Once Dipper is busy chewing, Mabel drops down beside him. 

“Do you want a story?” She wiggles the book they’ve been reading together: they’re on the third Narnia book, and Dipper nods. Mabel has a great talent for reading out loud and he likes to sit and listen while she reads, sometimes colouring and other times just rocking back and forth, all of his attention on her words. 

Mabel opens the book and clears her throat, settling her spine straight like she’s getting ready for an important presentation. Dipper laces his hands on top of his knees and lets his chin rest on his knuckles, looking at Mabel’s reflection in the dark screen of the television. 

“Are you ready?” 

Dipper shuffles a little closer to Mabel and she puts out an arm, letting him lean against her. With the warm stability of his sister next to him, Dipper closes his eyes and nods. 

Mabel’s voice begins to fill the air and Dipper relaxes into her. He doesn’t think about the nightmares, or the schoolwork. Even his guilt has melted away in the face of Mabel’s genuine excitement to read to him. 

The only thing that Dipper feels at this moment is love and gratitude for his twin. He’ll have to plan something really fun for them to do on Thursday. 

For now, all he has to do is listen.

[corroded-hellfire]

Well, since it's this weekend… what about Ryan and Luke giving their favorite baby-sitter something for Mother's Day? Either after Eddie officially gets the girl, or before… I bet Brittany would loooove to find out that her kids made something for Mother's Day in school, and gave it to the baby-sitter instead of her. 😏

I love, love, love this. @munson-blurbs and I came up with a little sweet and spicy tale. Happy Mother’s Day to all the moms out there except Brittany 😘

Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), oral f!receiving, mild choking, Eddie’s breeding kink is loud and proud

Words: 4k

[As You Wish masterlist]

“Okay, next we need a cup of water.” Eddie hands the glass measuring cup to Ryan, nodding towards the sink. “Fill ‘er up and then—carefully—dump it in the bowl.” Ryan does as he’s instructed, and Eddie proceeds with the recipe. “Now, Luke, you’re going to gently mix it all together.” 

Luke takes the directions a bit too seriously, circling the spoon around the bowl at a painstakingly slow pace. “Like that?” he asks proudly. 

“Liiiiittle faster, bud,” Eddie says, holding his thumb and forefinger apart slightly to emphasize his point. “I’d like to get these made before Father’s Day.”

Once the waffle batter is completely combined—Eddie had to help out before the milk curdled—he ladles it into the waffle iron, inhaling the cozy scent of homemade waffles. It’s what he’s always wanted: family dinners where he and his boys cook. Getting to spoil his girl with love and breakfast food. 

His girl. He still can’t believe that you’re his girl. 

“Did you guys make anything for Mom at school today?” Teachers usually have the kids do some sort of Mother’s Day craft, and Eddie wants to make sure that it gets to Brittany before she can accuse him of withholding her gifts. 

Ryan and Luke share a look that Eddie is unable to decipher. “Um, nothing?” Ryan says meekly, though it comes out as more of a question. 

Eddie frowns. “No art project this year? Not even a macaroni necklace?” He sets the timer and leans back on the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. “Neither of you?”

“No, we did,” Ryan admits, “but we were talking, and…we don’t wanna give them to Mom.”

“Yeah,” Luke chimes in, an unmistakable smirk spreading across his face, “we wanna give them to your giiiiiiirlfriend!” 

“Luke!” Ryan scolds, but his eyes tell Eddie that he had the same idea. “Is that okay?” he asks his dad. 

Eddie nods. “Of course. I think she’ll love that.” He starts to wipe down the counter before turning back to his boys. “You still need to give Mom the gifts that we bought her, yeah?” Not that she deserves them, he thinks bitterly, but she’ll have my head on a platter if they come over empty-handed. 

“Okay,” Ryan says as he puts the milk back in the refrigerator. “And the cards we bought, too.”

“Oh! And we made cards to go with our gifts tonight!” Luke adds. 

“Did you now?” Eddie asks, raising his eyebrows at his youngest son. “You got a future working for Hallmark?”

“Daddy, you know I’m going to be a monster truck driver.”

“Right, how could I forget?”

A key turns in the lock of the front door and an instant smile appears on Eddie’s face. Ever since he’d given you the key to his apartment, he’s been locking the door more just because the sound of you unlocking it when you come over makes him happy. Both boys scurry in that direction and Eddie follows behind at a leisurely pace. 

You’re barely able to put your keys back in your bag before being enveloped in two sets of small arms.

“Oof!” You toss your bag over on the closest chair and wrap your arms around the boys. “This is a nice welcome. Ooh, and what smells so good in here?”

“Happy Mother’s Day!” both boys cheer. 

It takes you a moment to realize that they’re saying those words to you. They are wishing you a happy Mother’s Day. 

“W-What?” you ask, slightly stunned. 

“We won’t see you on Sunday, so we wanted to have Mother’s Day with you now!” Luke says as he takes one of your hands in both of his. 

“Yeah!” Ryan agrees. “And we made your favorite breakfast for dinner. Waffles! Daddy helped.”

“Helped?” Eddie mumbles under his breath, but it goes unnoticed by both kids. 

“This is so sweet,” you say, the wide array of emotions hurtling through you. Dropping to your knees, you tug the Munson children against your body so that you can give them a proper hug. “I love you boys so much.”

“We love you, too,” Ryan says. 

“Let’s go get the presents,” Luke says to his brother.

“Ah-ah, not until after we eat,” Eddie pipes up.

Luke sighs and lolls his head in the direction of his father. “We can’t just go get them?”

“Fine, go ahead. There’s about to be some kissing anyway, and I don’t think you wanna see that,” Eddie teases. It works. The boys head down the hall to their rooms and as soon as you get back up on your feet, Eddie pulls you into his embrace. “Hey there, gorgeous.”

“Hi, handsome,” you say as you loop your arms around his neck. Tilting your head up, your mouth catches against your boyfriend’s and you sink into the kiss. A loud rattling noise and a shout of I’m okay has the two of you breaking apart. “Was this your idea?”

“Nope,” Eddie says, popping the “p.” He rubs his hands up and down your back as he gives you a smile that’s full of pride in his sons. “They asked me just yesterday if we could do this—have the waffles for dinner. And I didn’t know about the gifts until about two minutes before you walked in.”

“I’m getting spoiled tonight,” you muse, pressing a kiss to his stubbled cheek. You start to walk towards the table, but he pulls you back to him. 

“Oh, you have no idea,” he murmurs in your ear, squeezing your ass. “As soon as they leave, I’m going to—”

“Is dinner almost ready?” Luke whines as he thunders into the room. “I’m starving!”

Eddie races to him, crouching down and placing one hand on either of Luke’s shoulders. “Do you think you’ll make it?! Hang on, Luke! Don’t go into the light!” He ruffles his son’s curly hair. “Yeah, it’s ready. Go sit down at the table.”

Luke giggles as he takes his seat, and Ryan trails behind him. 

“How was school?” you ask them, putting waffles on plates and setting them at their places. “Learn anything new?”

Luke nods enthusiastically. “My friend Todd bounced a hot dog on the ground at lunch, and it almost touched the ceiling!”

Eddie shrugs. “I guess that’s science, kind of? What about you, Ry? Conduct any food experiments?”

“No, but we started learning about fractions today,” Ryan says, taking a bite of his dinner. “It was tricky at first, but then I got it.”

“That’s my boy!” Eddie high-fives him. “Munsons don’t give up when things get tough.”

“Is that why you took senior year three times?” you tease him, and his jaw drops in mock offense. 

“Hey, Daddy?” Luke interrupts, grabbing the syrup bottle and positioning it over the waffle and drenching it in the sticky-sweet sauce. “Can we do presents now?”

“When dinner’s over,” Eddie reminds him, taking the bottle before Luke can empty it. “And, no, that’s not permission to shove the entire waffle in your mouth at once.”

“Fine,” he concedes, turning his attention to you. “So, who’s your favorite: me or Ryan?”

You shake your head, cutting your waffle into neat little squares. “I can’t answer that. I love you both equally.” You glance at your boyfriend for confirmation, but of course, he’s no help. 

“That means you must fight for her love and affection!” he roars, deepening his voice to a raspy growl. “Men, grab your armor!”

You roll your eyes at his antics, but there’s a smile on your face the whole time. 

Unsurprisingly, Luke is the first one finished with his food. He sits in his chair, fingers beating a rapid rhythm against the tabletop. The patience of a five-year-old can only go so far, though. Eddie tries to hold in a chuckle because it looks like his youngest is near wetting himself. 

“Okay,” Eddie caves with a sigh. “Get your presents ready.” 

“Yes!” Luke cheers as he grabs his gift and the homemade card made of red construction paper. Eddie stands and clears away the plates while both boys take a seat on either side of you with their respective presents. “Mine first!” Luke slides his towards you. 

First, you pick up the card and grin at the flower smiling back at you on the cover. On the inside, Luke has written in his adorable boyish handwriting: “Happy Mother’s Day! I 🖤 you! Love, Luke.” You ruffle Luke’s curls and press a kiss to his forehead. 

“Here’s the gift I made.” Luke points at it. Picking it up, you see it’s a Shrinky Dink that Luke has written his name on and someone—presumably the teacher, put it on a key ring. 

“This is perfect!” you exclaim as you look over your new keychain. “I use my keys every time I drive or have to get into my house, so I’ll always see your name and think of you.”

Luke grins and throws his arms around your neck. You chuckle and maneuver him into your lap so he’s not hugging you from an uncomfortable angle. 

“Thank you, Luke.”

“Now me!” Ryan hands you his card, designed on purple construction paper. It says: “I am happy that your with Daddy now because that means I see you more and I like seeing you. Happy Mother’s Day! I love you! Ryan.”

“That is very sweet, Ryan.” 

“Thanks! This is what I made you,” he says. A heavy lump of what you can only assume is clay is placed in your hands. Tilting it to inspect the blue ceramic piece, you realize it’s the shape of a hand. Ryan’s hand, to be more specific. His handprint has been molded into a small ceramic dish. “It’s for jewelry! To hold it.”

“Oh, that’s perfect! I’m going to put it right next to my bed for when I take my jewelry off at night.”

“It’s like I’ll be holding it,” Ryan says with a giggle. 

“I know it’s in safe hands then,” you say, reaching over to boop his nose. “Thank you both for the thoughtful cards and gifts. I’m very lucky and grateful for you two.”

“Ahem,” Eddie cuts in with a dramatic throat clear. “No love for me? I’ll have you know that I’m the only one here who knows how to use the waffle iron, thank you very much.”

“You’re right,” you sigh, but when he leans in for a kiss, you just boop his nose as well. “Here, let me get the dishes.” You stand up to start towards the sink, but he playfully tugs you back down.

“Not a chance,” he says with a wink. “The Munson men are on it! Boys, I’ll need all hands on deck.”

Luke and Ryan begrudgingly follow their dad, dragging their feet as they walk to where Eddie’s flicking on the faucet and rinsing the dirty dishes. “Can we at least listen to music?” Luke grumbles, grabbing the sponge.

“Can you ask that without whining?” Eddie nudges him, but his tone is serious. “Try again.”

Luke plasters a giant fake smile on his face. “Can we please listen to music?” he asks.

“Of course, my wonderful, perfect second-born.” Eddie goads, clicking the dial to his usual rock station. 

And when she knows what

She wants from her time

Your head perks up and your eyes widen at the familiar Billy Joel song. Eddie throws you a grin over his shoulder before stepping back from the sink and wiping his hands off on a towel.

“Our song, baby,” he says, holding out his hand as he approaches where you’re sitting. “Boys, take over. Ryan wash, Luke dry.”

“I thought this was a Munson man chore,” Luke grumbles, which Ryan nudges his brother’s shoulder for.

“Shut up,” Ryan hisses under his breath.

Luke huffs and snatches the towel up from where Eddie tossed it on the counter. “What does that mean?” he asks his older brother. “That it’s ‘their song.’”

Ryan chuckles as he grabs a plate and holds it under the water. He looks over at the two of you and watches as Eddie practically yanks you out of the dining chair until your chest is pressed up against his. 

“It’s the song they smoochy-smooch to,” Ryan says.

Luke spins around to look at the pair of you as well, making kissy noises as he awaits a plate to dry.

“I’d start washing those dishes unless you want to see us start smoochy-smooching,” Eddie calls, never taking his eyes off of you. You giggle and wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him even closer.

“Maybe I wanna smooch now,” you say, batting your eyelashes at him. Eddie doesn’t hesitate to fill your request. He leans in and just as his lips are about to brush up against yours, there’s a jarring knock on the front door. 

“I’ll get it!” Luke shouts, taking any opportunity he can to get away from the dishes.

“Good,” Eddie mumbles before stealing a kiss from you anyway. Just as you tilt your head up to continue the kiss, an irritating ahem sounds from behind you. 

Turning your head, you have to fight to keep the sneer off your face when you see who’s standing there.

“Mom’s here,” Luke calls to Ryan as he jogs back into the kitchen.

“Hello, Brittany,” you say, sidling up next to Eddie. You go to grab his hand in yours and he’s quick to give it a reassuring squeeze. Play nice for the sake of the boys, you tell yourself. Those seem to be the only semi-pleasant words that ever go through your head when she’s around. 

“Hi,” Brittany says, the words somehow sounding like a scoff. 

“Boys,” Eddie says, forgoing greeting his ex-wife altogether. “Go get your backpacks and the gifts you bought for Mom.”

The mention of gifts has a slight smirk appearing on the bitchy blonde’s face, and you can hardly say you’re surprised. As materialistic as she is, she’s probably more interested in seeing what she’s getting than seeing her own children. Eddie had already told you what the boys had picked out at the store and all you could hope was that Brittany was able to fake enough enthusiasm so as not to hurt the boys. 

Luke emerges from his room first. He puts his bag down on the table and picks up the keychain and jewelry holder that you had gotten from them. “Mom, look what we made!”

“Good job. Thank you.” She couldn’t sound less excited if she tried. But you don’t care because you know Luke is about to correct her.

“Oh. No, your gift is in my backpack. These aren’t for you.”

Brittany’s face hardens into steel, the forced smile looking more like a disfigured grimace than anything. Come on, look up at me, you think to yourself with a gleeful smile on your lips. Eddie tugs on your hand and you glance over to see him wearing a matching grin of satisfaction. 

Ryan comes in as Luke puts your gifts back on the table, and Brittany’s head finally lifts. You swear you can literally see her face turning red as she locks eyes with you. You raise an eyebrow slightly, as if saying, yeah, that’s right. Those are for me.

“Whatever,” she spits, ushering the boys out of the apartment. “Pick them up Tuesday night. Don’t be late.” 

Before she can slam the door behind her, Ryan and Luke call out to you, “Happy Mother’s Day!” You can see her entire body clench with anger.

As soon as she’s gone, Eddie lets out a huge exhale.

“You okay?” you ask, pressing your chest against his and resuming your position. You can feel his heart beating, and it’s immediately soothing.

Eddie nods slowly. “Yeah, she doesn’t really bother me anymore. ‘S just…” he pauses, searching for the right words, “...I hate not being with them, y’know? And I hate having to send them to their mom’s when they’re happier here. But what am I gonna do, tell her that she can’t have them on Mother’s Day?”

“You’re doing the right thing,” you murmur, rubbing his bicep comfortingly. “And once custody is figured out, I know you’ll be able to see them more. Those boys absolutely adore you.”

He tilts your chin upwards and kisses you, softly and gently. “They adore you, too,” he says with a small chuckle. “I had to convince them to buy stuff for Brittany and not you.”

Your jaw drops, making him laugh harder. “No way. You’re kidding, right?”

“‘M dead serious,” Eddie promises, making an X over his heart. “And speaking of gifts…I have one for you, and it’s in the bedroom.” He waggles his eyebrows, and you hook your finger into his belt loop as he leads the way.

You lay down on the bed as he climbs on top of you, trailing kisses down your body. “This–kiss–is for–kiss–being the absolute–kiss–fuckin’--kiss–best.” He sits up suddenly, taking in the gorgeous view before him. “I love you so damn much.”

“I love you, too,” you whisper against the soft plush of his lips.

“You know,” Eddie mumbles against your mouth, “I was thinking.”

“Uh oh,” you tease. In retaliation, Eddie lightly nips at your collarbone, making you giggle.

“Mhm. About your ass.” He gives it a little squeeze as you laugh harder. “Well, that, and how goddamn gorgeous you’d look having my baby.”

“You mean ‘our’ baby?” you ask, arching an eyebrow. 

“Of course,” Eddie says. He starts to move down your body with kisses again. “Round belly making a home for them.” He pushes your shirt up to the underwire of your bra and places soft kisses around your belly button. 

“Not to mention my bigger boobs.”

“Oh don’t worry, I hadn’t forgot about those,” Eddie says, looking up at you with a smirk. “Shit, I can picture it so well.” His fingers fumble with the button on your jeans as his lips press gently against your skin. “But before that all happens, there’s something I’ve gotta do.”

“And what’s that?” you ask, your eyes never leaving his hands as you watch them work.

Eddie presses one last kiss just above the waistline of your jeans before looking up at you through his enviably long eyelashes. “Fuck a baby into you.”

A whimper leaves your lips, both at his words and at the urgency in which Eddie is pulling your pants off with. Your panties aren’t far behind, but you reach up and tug on his shirt before he has time to undress you any further. Your hands begin to work on his belt, and Eddie lays one hand on your shoulder to keep himself balanced, and the other hand trails along your jaw. Slowly, he swipes his thumb over your bottom lip.

“You want me to make you a mommy, sweetheart? Want to spend next Mother’s Day with the little baby we made?” 

“Uh-huh,” you nod breathlessly, moaning when two of his thick fingers slide into your pussy. “M-Making me regret taking my pill this morning.”

Eddie laughs, pumping his fingers in and out of you as he speaks. “S’okay, babe. We can just practice tonight, hm?”

You nod, unable to speak as you watch Eddie lower his head and attach his lips to your clit. With a breathy whine, your head drops back on the pillow as he gives a harsh suck to the sensitive nub.

“Fuck,” Eddie says once he finally releases it. “Never get used to how good your pussy tastes.” He gives you no time to respond before he dips down and licks at your leaking hole. One of your hands fists the sheets, while the other reaches down and grabs onto your boyfriend’s curls. “Feel good?” Eddie mumbles against your folds.

“So good, Eddie,” you moan. “Fucking love your mouth. B-But I want your cock.” 

“All you had to do was ask, my love.” He looks back down at your pussy and gives it a quick kiss. “I’ll be back for you later.”

You don’t have time to process the fact that he’s talking to your genitals before he’s pushing inside of you with a delicious stretch. “Fuuuuuck, Eddie,” you whine, adjusting to the fullness. “Feels s’good. Always feels s’good.” Your words slur together, already drunk on his cock. 

“Only the best for this tight, perfect pussy,” he growls. He brings his thumb back to your clit, making deliberate circles. “Can’t wait to fill you up with my cum. Gonna fuck it into you s’deep. Gonna knock up my princess, make her a mommy, holy shit!” He cries out when you move his hand from your swollen bud up to your neck, placing it around your throat. “Y’want me to choke you, baby?”

“Yes, please,” you manage, body trembling with pleasure as you feel the pressure from his grip. He’s rocking into you at an immeasurable pace, the ridge where the tip meets the shaft hitting all the right angles. “Keep g-going. ‘M gonna cum.”

Eddie throws his head back. “Good girl, good fucking girl. Cum on my cock, fuck, fuckin’ cream it. Make a mess on me, my good girl.”

One hand still gripping the green sheets below you, the other wraps around Eddie’s arm where he braces himself up against the mattress. Little moans and whimpers are slipping past your lips as Eddie brings you up to the brink. 

“I’m—fuck—I’m coming,” you say, hand tightening around Eddie’s arm as your pussy tightens around his cock. You hit your peak just as he does, an expression of ecstasy on his face. 

“Take it, fuckin’ take it, take all my cum. Want it dripping out of you.” You feel the hot, thick ropes coat your walls as he finishes inside you, leaving you both panting and speechless. 

The two of you lie there with each other for a few moments, letting your bodies relax and come down from their highs. Begrudgingly, Eddie pulls out and you both hiss at the loss. He’s quick to grab a warm washcloth from the bathroom and clean the both of you off. As soon as he tosses it in the hamper, he’s climbing back into bed and pulling you up against him beneath the covers. You eagerly snuggle up against him and rest your head in the crook of his neck.

“So, how was that for a Mother’s Day present?” Eddie asks, his fingers gently tracing patterns on the bare skin of your back. 

“Perfect,” you respond with a lazy smile. “You Munson men spoil me.” 

“Cause we love you so damn much,” Eddie says as he presses a kiss into your hair. When you stay silent, Eddie���s brow furrows in confusion. When he feels your body start to tremble in his hold, he pulls back to look at you. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

Shaking your head, you wipe the fallen tears from your cheeks. “Nothing’s wrong. I just…I wasn’t expecting any of this.”

“Is it too much?” Eddie asks, worry creeping into his voice. “Because I can talk to the—” 

“No,” you say kindly but firmly. “It’s just overwhelming. The food, the presents. Them wishing me a h-happy Mother’s Day. Eddie, I…” You’re unable to keep the tears from falling even as a joyful smile spreads across your lips. “I’ve never felt so loved before.” 

Eddie gazes at you with an adoring expression on his face. He gently tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear and presses a kiss to your forehead. 

“Well, get used to it, baby,” Eddie says. “Because you have the hearts of all three Munson men and we’re all suckers for showing affection.”

Shifting yourself so your head rests next to Eddie’s on his pillow, you still can’t wipe the smile off your face. 

“They think of me as a mother figure.”

“Sweetheart, you’ve been there for them when their own mother hasn’t. Many, many times. Of course that’s how they see you. You’re everything a good mom should be, and they see that. They needed that in their lives. And then you come along; perfect, wonderful you. Who we all were missing, we just didn’t know it yet. But now that we have you, you’re stuck with us.”

You giggle as Eddie nuzzles his nose against yours. “I needed you guys, too. I always will.”

“I love you, my beautiful girl.”

“I love you, my handsome man.”

“Happy Mother’s Day, baby.”

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

First Gift: Chaggie

Chaggie Week of First: Day 5

Charlie: Oh, Vaaaaggiiiiiieee!~

Vaggie: Charlie, if you bought me another anything, I'm returning it. I appreciate the help, but I'm starting to feel like a leach.

Charlie: (rocks on her feet back and forth awkwardly while holding something behind her back) Well.... it isn't bought.

Vaggie: (eye widens slightly as she blinks in confusion) ...Okay?

Charlie: (holds up a piece of macaroni art) Ta-da! I made this for you!

Vaggie: (takes the piece carefully) You made this?

Charlie: (bashfully as she taps her hooves) I... uh... know it's a bit childish, but I wanted to give you something to show you how much you mean to me... (blushes harder) As A Friend!!! Best Friend!!!

Vaggie: (looks at the crude macaroni artwork of what looks like Charlie and herself drawn in front of a giant, castle like building that has "Happy Hotel" written on the sign) Charlie... this isn't... well, okay, it's a little childish, but it's you. It's adorable. Thank you.

Charlie: (clasps her hands together with sparkles in her eyes) You really like it?! You're not just saying that?

Vaggie: Mmhmm. And I actually have something for you too. Just a sec. (places the art piece on her wall with a thumbtack and pulls a glittery rainbow binder out from underneath her bed along with a bag filled with craft supplies) I'm glad I was able to scrounge up some money to get you these. I figured you could use it to start organizing your thoughts for that rehabilitation hotel.

Charlie: (gasps and takes the gift with tears in her eyes as snot starts to drip from her nose) Vaaaaagggggggiiiiiiiie.... This is *sniff* the sweetest *sniiiiiiiffffff* gift *snort* anyone's ever given meeeeeeeee.

Vaggie: I take it you like it?

Charlie: (cradling the supplies to her chest like they're a stray kitten she found on the sidewalk) Thank you!

[crazyunsexycool]

My Little Love

Chapter 27

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x enhanced!Reader

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: Fluff, angst, explosion, implied character deaths

A/N: So here we go!!!

Series Masterlist

With a deep breath and a small stretch you begin to wake up. You smile when you realize that Bucky is still laying next to you. It’s a small comfort knowing he’s getting his much deserved rest since he tends to be awake earlier than you. Turning your head you take in his muscular back. It’s riddled with scars, scars that you’ve kissed many times already and will again. You shift slowly so as to not wake him and drape your arm around his midsection. Many nights it was Bucky pulling you into his chest and making you feel safe, at this moment you get to do the same. It makes you smile and you can’t help but lean forward and kiss his left shoulder blade. One kiss turned into two and then three and so on. By now you knew Bucky was awake but he stayed still as he accepted your affection.

“Good morning, baby.” You whisper into his ear. 

Bucky turns his head to look at you with a lazy smile and sleepy eyes. He was beautiful and all yours. 

“It’s a great morning, Sugar.” 

Bucky turns in bed and lays on his back. You take the opportunity to straddle him and lean down to give him a quick kiss. 

“I have a date planned for us today.” Bucky says when you pull back. 

“Really?”

“Yup. Just the two of us.” 

“Have you informed our daughter? You know she’ll want to go with us.” 

“I did talk to her about it. She did pout but she knows it’s a surprise so she’s ok.” Bucky chuckles as his hands slip under your sleep shirt. 

“Let’s get up, old man, before those two can wreak havoc on the compound.” 

“Give me five more minutes with you just like this.” 

“Just five?”

“Fine,” Bucky rolled his eyes. “Ten.” 

“Happily.” 

****

“Uppies.” Lottie says with a yawn, it’s still early and you’re surprised to see her awake. 

With her hair sticking up in all directions and her purple princess footed-pajamas still on Lottie clings to Bucky. Hiding away from the light by sticking her face into the space between his shoulder and neck she holds onto her pink teddy bear. You wave Bucky over to the couch since he won’t be able to do much now that Lottie has decided to fall back asleep. You smile as you watch Bucky smooth out her hair as he sits down and gets comfortable. 

“Morning mama.” Henry walks into the kitchen. He’s still sleepy too but he smiles in your direction as he holds up a hair tie. “Can you help me?”

You grab it and pull his hair up into a manbun. 

“Have you thought about getting a haircut?” 

“No, I don’t want it short.” Henry covers his head with his arms. 

“It was just a suggestion, sweet boy. I won’t make you do something you don’t want.” You kiss the top of his head. “You know your dad had long hair too and he looked very handsome with it.” 

“Do I look handsome with it?”

“So handsome. Now why don’t you go cuddle up with dad and Lottie on the couch.” 

“Ok.” Henry smiles and gives you a hug before he walks away while you work on breakfast.

“Hi Buce.” 

“Hello Charlotte, how are you today?” Bruce asked as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. 

“Am good. Can habe uppies?” 

Charlotte stopped right in front of Bruce, her hands busy with a paper plate while you trailed behind her. He picks her up and sets her down on one of the free spaces of his table. 

“Habe pwesent Buce.” 

“You do? Who’s it for?” 

“Fo’ you.” She holds up the paper plate full of glued down dried macaroni pieces and painted cotton balls all laid down to look like him. You even helped her make the frame for his glasses out of construction paper.

“Is this me?” 

“Yup.” 

You chuckle as Bruce holds it up beside his face and asks if he and the macaroni art look alike. Charlotte giggles and nods happily.

“We’ve been playing around with different arts and crafts.” 

“Habe this too.” Lottie holds up a bracelet made of green beads. 

“Well this is so nice of you Charlotte. Thank you.” 

“Now that we are done with the gift giving, here are my files that you needed.” 

“Thanks. I’ll get them back to you as soon as I can. I also have those reports on those people that received the same shot you did. If you can look at them and give me your opinion, that would be great.” You nod while he pulls out two lollipops from his lab coat pocket. Something you realize he started doing recently. “And this is for you and your brother, Charlotte.” 

“Wook mama.”  Lottie holds up both lollipops. 

“I see that. It was very nice of uncle Bruce, can you say thank you?”

“Oh, Tank you Buce.”  

“You are very welcome.” 

“I’ll see you later Bruce.”

“Bye-bye Buce.” 

“Bye, Charlotte.” Bruce says as he sets her back on the floor.

****

“Here are the reports you needed.” Bucky holds up a stack of files and places them on Steve’s desk. 

“Thanks. Is everything ok?” 

“Yeah.” Bucky nods but then sits down on one of the chairs across from Steve’s desk. Henry takes the other one but is distracted playing with Alpine. “I’m taking Y/N out on a date tonight.” 

“Nice, want me to watch the kids?”

“Nat volunteered, said something about you hogging up their time.” Bucky shrugs. “But I’m kind of nervous.”

“Nervous about what?”

“Steve, it's the date.”

“Oh. Wow ok so it’s happening tonight. When you come back you’ll be an engaged man.” Steve says with a grin. “This is great.”

“You don’t know that. Y/N could say no.”

Henry scoffs. “Please, mama would never say no to you.” 

“I second that. I know she won’t say no, she loves you way too much.” 

“Mama talks about how much she loves you all the time.”

Bucky nods slowly and takes a deep breath. It’ll be easy. All he has to do is ask a simple question. Although the thought of being rejected is really making him have second thoughts. It’s not about the rejection but the person doing it. He really can’t see his life without you now and he wants to give you the perfect evening and end it with the perfect proposal. Something small and intimate, just the two of you.

You were standing in the living room waiting for Bucky and saying your goodnights to the kids. Charlotte was giggling as she clung to you like a koala.

“Are you going to be good for auntie Nat?” You ask while smoothing out her hair. 

“Am good mama.” 

“What about you mister?” 

“Yup.”  Henry said between taking sips of his juice box. “You look pretty in your dress mama.” 

“Thank you sweet boy. I just had to wear the dress you got me.” 

“Yeah, so pwetty mama. Wike a pwincess.” 

“Do you think daddy will think I look pretty?” 

“Stunning, beautiful, gorgeous, bewitching. Should I go on?” Bucky says from the door with a fond smile. He closes the distance and wraps his arms around you and Charlotte, who is now sandwiched between you.

She giggles as she looks up at both of you. 

“Dada am here.” 

“I didn’t see you there, doll.” 

Charlotte giggles some more before Bucky scoops her up. He peppers her cheeks with kisses and sets her down on the couch next to Henry and then places a kiss on Henry’s head. 

“We have to go or we’ll be late to our reservations.” 

“Ok well, have fun kids.” You wave at them as Nat walks in. “Thanks for watching them.”

“You’re welcome. Now go and have your own fun.” 

Bucky drove you into the heart of the city. He was nervous, you could tell but you didn’t know why. Still he’d look over at you every few minutes and flash you his most charming smile. It wasn’t until you got to your destination that you knew something was up. Getting reservations at one of the most exclusive restaurants in the most exclusive hotel in New York City was no easy feat. 

Bucky parks at the entrance and jumps out of the car to open your door. You admired how handsome he looked in his all black suit and t-shirt combo. He holds his hand out to help you up and out of the car and then offers you his arm. 

“How did you manage reservations here?” 

“Had a little help.” He winks as you walk toward the elevator to the top floor. 

****

The view of the city was spectacular from the top floor where the restaurant was. The hostess led you from the entrance off to the left and onto a private balcony. There was only one table at the center and a bar at the end. Bucky pulls a chair out for you and a server is there in an instant to take your drink order. 

“This is beautiful.” You murmur as you look out over the city.

“You’re beautiful.” 

Bucky takes one of your hands over the table. His cheeks are tinted pink as he looks at you. You squeeze his hand to reassure him everything was ok even though you were trying to figure out why he was acting the way he was. 

“Y/N, I-“ Bucky’s cut off by the ringing of both of your phones. 

“Maybe it’s the kids.” You say as you fish yours out of your purse. 

Bucky mutters a curse in Russian and grabs his phone. He stands and walks away to a corner so you won’t hear his conversation.

“Hey Nat, is everything ok?” You answer your phone.

“So sorry to ruin the date but we need you both back here immediately.”

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s a mission, can’t say more.”

“Fine, we'll be there as soon as possible.” You look up at Bucky just as he turns to look at you. He frowns and hangs up the call.

“Sorry Sugar, guess we’ll have to reschedule the date.” 

“It’s ok.” You say as you take his hand and start walking back toward the elevator. You wrap your arms around Bucky’s midsection and rest your head against his chest. “Don’t be upset.” 

“I just wanted tonight to be special. I even had a room reserved for us.” 

You pull back to look at him. 

“Oh really?” You give him a mischievous smirk. 

“Mmhmm. I wanted you all to myself tonight.”

“We will definitely reschedule then.”

Bucky smiles and kisses you. He feels like the ring is burning a hole in his pocket. Maybe he should have asked you right before leaving the restaurant anyway. 

Everyone was already in the conference room when you walked in. Lottie and Henry were in a corner with noise canceling headphones and tablets unaware of what was going on. 

“Sorry for ruining your date guys.” Steve gives you an apologetic smile. “But trust me you’ll want to be here for this.” 

“What’s going on?” 

“As you know since the moment we found Charlotte and then Henry, Hydra has been trying to get them back. That included the trap they set up for Y/N, Sam, Clint and Nat and the one they set up for me and Steve.” Tony says as he pulls up some images on the large screen at the front of the room. “These people were responsible for developing the future winter soldier program. While most of them have died or retired, the program is still going strong. Right now their focus is getting the kids back.”

“They’ve mostly stayed underground.” Steve adds. “It’s been hard to track them but finally after all these months we have intel that they will be meeting tomorrow so we have to leave tonight if we want to get all of them.” 

“If we do that, that means it’s over?”

“No one will be after the kids anymore?” You ask hopefully as you reach for Bucky’s hand. 

“Exactly, we can get rid of this part of hydra for good.” 

“I’ll call my dad and we can go.” 

“I’m sorry but you won’t be able to go with us, Y/N.” Steve says. 

“Why not?” 

“Because Hydra has a hit out on you.” Tony presses a button on the remote in his hand and up pops up multiple communications from hydra officials wanting you to be dealt with. “Since you were the one to carry the kids out and the one to kill one of the highest ranking members in hydra you’ve painted a big old bullseye on your back. If you went with us well…” 

You sit back and nod as you realize that they’re right. If you go on this mission it will just make it easier for hydra to try and kill you. 

“Ok. I’ll stay.”

“Everyone suit up. The faster we get there the faster we can end this.”

****

“Good wuck.” Charlotte tells everyone on the team as they walk into the jet. Henry stands beside her and offers everyone high fives. 

You stood not too far away from the kids and watched as everyone got on. Steve walked up and stopped next to you. 

“I’ll keep an eye on him, don’t worry.” Steve places a hand on your shoulder. 

“I know you will, just don’t get too reckless because I’m not there to keep my eye on you.”

Steve chuckles before giving you a quick hug and walking over to the kids. Bucky’s hands wrap around your waist as he pulls you into his chest. He presses a kiss to your shoulder as you both watch Steve hugging Lottie and Henry. 

“Once this is over we can actually do things with them outside of the compound.” Bucky says.

“I’ll be making a list. They’ll be so excited when we take them out.” 

“Not too excited when they start school though.”

You turn in his arms and perch your hands on his shoulders. Bucky rests his forehead against yours.

“It’s almost over.” 

“Be careful out there.”

“I will. I love you.”

“I love you too.” You tell him before giving him a kiss. 

Henry and Charlotte run towards you and Bucky. He pulls away from you and grabs Henry before the latter can run into him. There are hugs and kisses for both kids before Bucky finally and reluctantly pulls away from you. With one final wave goodbye Bucky gets on the jet and you watch as it takes off. 

“Alright kiddos, let's go inside.”

“Mama can habe mobie night?” Lottie asks as she takes your hand.

“That sounds like a fun idea, sweet angel. We can get in our pajamas and get our favorite snacks and watch as many movies as we can. We can even make a pillow fort in the living room. What do you say Henry?”

Henry nods. “ Can we watch Cars?”

“Of course we can.” 

“Tonight is going to be awesome.”

“Yeah it is.”

 After an almost 10 hour flight the team had finally made it to the facility where hydra was meeting. Bucky was anxious to get this over with and go home. Home to his family to finally start a new chapter in his life. One that would begin when you said yes to his question. He couldn’t wait for that moment. 

“Gear up team, it’s time. Don’t forget the plan.” Steve says.

Everyone double checks their gear before finally starting the mission. Tony, Sam and Vision head out first as they do a fly over and lay down cover fire. The rest of the team drops down soon after while Bruce stays on the jet as back up. A small group of hydra agents fight to protect the building but it’s no use and it doesn’t take too long for the team to regroup in front of the main doors.

“Does anyone else think that was too easy?” Nat speaks up as she looks around the area. 

“I wouldn’t be surprised if they have all of the other agents protecting these sick sons of bitches.” 

“Just be prepared and stay focused, there’s no turning back if we lose these people now we might never find them again.” Steve says. He takes his shield and hits the lock on the door handle to break it open. As soon as it’s open everyone runs in to complete their objective.

****

Every level of the building is checked and nothing. The building is practically empty with the exception of a few agents that were taken care of easily. 

“What the hell is going on?” Sam says as he and Bucky walk into the control room to meet up with everyone else. 

All of the monitors in the room lit up at the same time. A video of you and the kids walking through the compound halls starts playing. 

“Where the hell is everyone?” Bucky asks as he looks around. 

Tony and Nat begin to type furiously on some of the computers as they try to figure it out.

“Has anyone heard from command central? I’m getting radio silence.”

“It’s not radio silence.” Steve answers Nat as he realizes what’s going on. “It’s a trap, like your first mission after we found Charlotte.” 

“Soldat.”

 “What the fuck?”

“You should have given our assets back when you had the chance.” The voice said. “I hope you had fun playing house.” 

There are several pictures of the kids playing outside from days and months prior. Bucky pulls out his phone to try and call you but there’s no connection. 

“Tony please tell me you got something.” 

Steve and Sam head for the doors but when they try to open them they can’t. 

“We’re locked in.” 

“Tony!”

“I’m trying here.” He shouts back. 

“Say goodbye to your family, Soldat.” The voice says. 

A missile hits the living quarters. It’s as if the air had been sucked out of the room as the team watches the compound get hit. 

“No, no, no, no,no. Please tell me this isn’t real.” Bucky cries out. “It can’t be real. They’re in there.”

“We’ll figure it out, Buck, but right now we have to get out of here.” 

“What if they’re gone?” Bucky watches as the footage of the explosion replays over and over again. 

“Bruce, we need your help getting out of here.”  

A few minutes later the building is practically destroyed as the Hulk smashes his way through. Everyone rushes to the jet. The whole flight Bucky can’t stop pacing. Steve and Sam try to calm him down but nothing works. He’s a mess and rightfully so. It takes halfway through the flight for them to finally have some type of connection to the outside world again. Bucky immediately starts to call your phone but it goes to voicemail. 

By the time they finally get to the compound Bucky’s worst fears are realized when the jet lands and he sees that the compound is completely destroyed. Bucky felt his chest seize as he took in the damage. Any hope he had that you and the kids were ok is gone. 

Ch. 28

Permanent Taglist:

@rebekahdawkins

@cjand10 

@nalny5 

@Sturchling 

@angywritesstuff 

@seitmai

@writing-for-marvel

@goldylions 

@almosttoopizza 

@littleseasiren 

@pono-pura-vida

@talesofadragon

@midnightramyeoncravings

@bunnygirlwriter876

@pandaxnieenke

@kandis-mom

Series Taglist:

@buckystevelove

 @vicmc624 

@just-someone11

@sjsmith56 

@emily-roberts 

@spencerriedisagorgman

@superduckmilkshake 

@samfreakingwinchester

@lofaewrites

@enchantedbarnes

@callsign-athena

@broadwaybabe18

@saranghaey 

@viperchick47

@ilovetaquitosmmmm

@da-pimp-river-niall

@ozwriterchick

@jenn-f

@rebel-soldat

@therealwritersblog

@alyroseking

@samlworld

@capswife

@oceaniamadness

@queenie32

[shuniverse]

don’t talk ,, b.c

🧷 requested by anon !! hope I did ur ask justice 🫶 also, requested tag for @mimussyy !!

🎐 family issues and angst ;; lots of cursing/swearing ;; hurt/comfort ;;

;;

“baby you should really try talking to em again.”

he refers to your family, with whom you haven’t spoken to in ages.

your mother, especially.

as a child, and as an adolescent, your mother was never someone you turned to.

always shunning you, turning you away when you need help with something, any sort of guidance.

but when she did give you attention? it was always to degrade you, tell you you’re clothes, hair, interests, the things you wished to pursue in life, that they were all stupid and ridiculous, that they would never get anywhere in life.

you didn’t think of them again until you saw a post your mother made of your parents on a trip with your siblings. it had filled you with a sense of jealousy and sadness, which your ever so observant boyfriend noticed.

“chris.. you know how they treated me. they made me not wanna LIVE. I can’t exactly forgive all they did.”

“baby girl, I know they’re bad, but maybe they’ve matured now, maybe now that they see how successful you are, maybe they’ll understand, and want to rekindle the relationship.”

you sigh, looking up at your boyfriend from where he’s standing next to you on your barstool. “channie, I don’t think that’s such a good idea..”

he pouts slightly, resting his chin on your shoulder. “c’mon baby, please? for me? and hey, I’ll be here if it goes south, alright?”

you lean your head on his, and he plants a kiss on your cheek.

“alright,” you start, much to your internal protest, “I’ll do it.”

;;

much to your surprise, you find yourself in your car on your way to your parents home.

you groan to yourself. that handsome guy you call your boyfriend is sure as hell lucky you love him.

stopping in a parking spot close to his house, you throw your head back against the headrest with a thunk.

I’m really doing this.

jesus, chan. you’re one pretty guy. lucky for you.

you huff, undo your seatbelt, grab your bag and keys, and get out of the car, and walk the longer-than-you-thought distance to the front door.

with what feels like sloth speed, you move your finger to the doorbell.

you wait, until finally, after what feels like ages, your father opens the door.

he gives a small smile.

you give a nervous smile in return, and a small wave. “hey dad.”

“hey, kid. long time no see.”

he opens the door wider, to let you in.

you chuckle. “yeah, been a while, hasn’t it?”

your father gives a short laugh, and you stop as you see your mother in the kitchen, seeming to make good. she hasn’t noticed you yet, as if she ever wanted to.

but you set your past aside for the time being, and walk to the kitchen island.

you take a deep breath, and speak to the woman who made your life feel like hell for 17 years for the first time in three years.

“hey, mom.”

she halts her hand chopping on the board, and turns to look at you, her eyes widening.

“oh.. hey, hun.”

you share a stare at each other for what feels like eternity, before your father snaps you out of your state.

“hey, uh, we got snacks ready. you want some snacks kiddo?”

you nod, looking at your father with a small smile.

you sit together on the couch, making small talk and watching tv while munching on some snacks.

until, you feel the mood ruin.

your mother steps into the room, holding bowls of pasta.

macaroni to be specific.

fuck. that’s your favorite.

she hands you a bowl with a tight lipped smile, and hands a bowl to your father with an accompanied kiss to his head.

she sits in between the two of you to eat her own noodles.

it’s awkward silence now, neither one of you knowing what to say.

until your mother opens her mouth.

“so, uh, how are you, hun?”

you turn to look at her. “I’m fine, mom.”

“how, uh.. has your life been? what do you do?”

“well, I have a boyfriend and we’ve been together for four years, I’m working in the art industry and making good money, and-“

“art? see, I told you that wouldn’t get anywhere.”

god. not even a minute in?

“it’s getting me places, mom, and I said I’m making good money, my boyfriend makes good money too and he’s actually the leader of a band-“

she cuts you off with a laugh. “a band? huh, never knew you went for downgrades.”

this only fueled your anger. you couldn’t help but raise your voice. “mom, he’s anything but a downgrade. he takes care of me, he’s super sweet and probably the most handsome and caring guy I’ve ever known.”

she scoffs. “I bet it’s just so he can fuck you, that’s all guys want. especially from sluts.”

your eyes widen. “what the fuck did you call me?”

your dad looks at you wearily. “kid..”

“no!” you practically yell, and swivel your attention back to your mother. “god you are such a bitch. you were NEVER there for me, you always degraded my shit, you NEVER made me feel welcome in my own fucking home. I never felt like I could talk to you, but you expected so much from me. why? so you could use me as a slave? as someone to lean your troubles on? that I never fucking wanted? I knew coming here was a bad idea. you just can’t keep your damn mouth shut about me can you?”

she gawps at you, before standing up and huffing. “I don’t see what the problem is. we both know you’ll end up coming back in the end, you’ve always needed me, you’ve never been one to cut people off.”

“like you know! you were never fucking there for me! y’know what? fuck you. fuck you and your bullshit words when we know full well that I’m more successful than you, that I don’t fucking need you. I’m so done with this, im so done with YOU.”

“you don’t mean that.”

“yes, I fucking do. fuck you mom. dad?”

he looks at you, not knowing what to say.

“I advise divorcing her before it’s too late.”

and with that, you give your mom one final look, before stomping towards the front door, grabbing your shit and getting ready to leave, before you feel a hand grip your arm, you turn your head.

it’s your mother.

“if you leave, you’re never coming back.”

“good. have a nice life, bitch.”

you release your arm from her grip, and walk out the front door, and slam it shut, walking to your car and immediately pulling out and driving home.

on the way there, your rage turns to stress, and tears start slowly streaming down your face.

as soon as you pull into the parking lot of your apartment, you trudge up your stairs and barge through the door, making your boyfriend flinch from his spot on the couch.

“oh hey love what’s-“ as soon as he sees you with tears falling down your face, he gives a sympathetic smile and stands up, opening his arms. “c’mere princess.”

you rush into his arms, practically jumping on him, and he sits down, holding you in his arms as you sob into his neck.

he sighs sadly, kissing your neck as your body wracks itself with sobs and cries.

he runs his fingers through your hair, and finally, after what feels like forever, you lift your head up, and sniffle.

chan gives you a sad smile, gently caressing your cheek with his thumb. “baby.. what happened?”

you pout, holding onto his forearm as you recall what happened. he listens to your words intently, leaving kisses on your hand as he watches you with kind eyes.

he sighs once more. “my love, I’m so sorry.. I shouldn’t have made you go see them.”

you shake your head. “it’s ok, it’s not like you knew my own mother would call me a slut.”

he gives a sad pout. “why would she even call you that?”

“well, I told her about you and how great you are, and she basically said I was only with you for sex, especially sluts, gesturing towards me.”

“aw, baby I bet she’s just jealous you have better and more sex than she does.”

you giggle. “yea, bet she’s mad you’re hot and dick me down like she’s never felt.”

he shakes his head, gently rubbing your waist. “you’re silly, baby girl.”

you kiss his forehead. “so are you, channie.”

he gently cups your face, and you lean forward as he catches your lips in a gentle kiss, and you lovingly sigh, wrapping your arms around him.

he pulls away after a bit. “my pretty baby.”

you giggle again, kissing his nose. “can we take a shower, channie? I’m tired.”

he kisses your shoulder. “of course, baby girl.”

he stands up, holding you as he walks to the bathroom.

you sigh against his shoulder.

he may be a lucky guy, but you’re even luckier.

;; 🫶

AHHH THIS TOOK ME SO LONG AGDHHDHE

hope you enjoyed!

[papurgaatika]

Last Words of a Shooting Star

Characters: Sarah Miller

Minors DNI with my work please !!

A/N: Howdy..... ummmm. So mitski,,,, yeah that's it. Whoopsie. Thank you @joelsdagger and @carlynkurin for looking over this,,, always glad to have yall ask me wtf my problem is <3 <3 Tags: angst, canon compliant, major character death, song fic, third person pov Word Count: 633 Remember that TLOU is created by a zionist so please look at the resources at the end of this fic and in my bio on ways to donate and educate yourself!!

Summary: Outbreak night, from her side. Set to lyrics from Mitski's Last Words of a Shooting star: https://open.spotify.com/track/7gn3NdQez9Pwbqak4gspz5?si=865e47a42fdb4c36

All of this turbulence wasn't forecasted, Apologies from the intercom

The TV was static; the radio had been going on and off for hours, but it was eerily silent now. Warnings to stay inside, warnings to get out while you can, it was overwhelming. The upheaval and absolute disarray on the streets was a sight that she could barely take in. This was her home, her city, the one she loved and it was turning into a walking graveyard in front of her. “Don't look,” plays in her head over and over again, the pain in her leg blistering, her eyes brimming with tears of both fear and pain “Keep looking at me” echoes with the other words, but with them come the screams and the gunshots. The nauseating sounds that just almost drowned his voice out. The voice that would always put her at ease because it meant she was safe. That despite the mayhem, she would be okay. He was there to protect her. 

And I am relieved that I'd left my room tidy, They'll think of me kindly

When they come for my things

She finds herself unable to tear her gaze away from him; The blood on his face, the look of fear behind his eyes, an emotion she had never associated with him. He was strong, the strongest in her eyes. Despite the circumstances she takes a moment to glance at the watch on his wrist, the one that she had fixed for him. Fleeting memories slip into her mind, ones of other birthdays she had celebrated with him. The tradition of putting frosting on his cheek and nose after he blew out the candles, the collection of various macaroni art projects she had made over the years, how year after year the one gift she would give him was a clean room. That it was the one day out of the year she could spare him the grief of cluttered toys and clothes. She was glad she had managed to keep her room clean today, glad to know that when this was over they would enter a place of peace and serenity. 

I always wanted to die clean and pretty

But I'd be too busy on working days

She wasn't truly sure what was happening. Why his voice quaked, why his hands held her tighter, why the bright light was glaring into her eyes. She was trying to stay calm, to center her breathing like he had taught her. In for four, hold for seven, out for eight, and repeat. 

In for four. We’re safe, we’re safe 

Hold for seven. We’re not sick 

Out for eig- We’ve just been through hell. 

She doesn’t make it through eight, a blood curdling scream cutting through her breaths as they fall. 

So I am relieved that the turbulence wasn't forecasted

I couldn't have changed anyways

Her breathing is shallow, the blood seeping through her shirt like the juice she had spilled on the carpet as a baby. The pressure of his hands on the wound leaves her feeling like all the air had been punched from her lungs, but she knows that he would keep her safe. Agonizing cries are falling from her lips as her hands grip onto him like a lifeline, like a child holding a finger, until she isn't anymore. 

I am relieved that I'd left my room tidy

She hopes he can see her room again. The carefully folded clothes, and neatly stacked books. The posters she had so lovingly put up on the walls, and the photos of him she kept. She hopes that he knows it wasn’t his fault, that he wasn’t to blame. Hope he realizes that even in agony, even on the brink of death, she felt safe in his arms. 

Goodbye

A/N: From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free READ: This account stands with Palestine unequivocally, and so— I require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this. DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS.  Thank you for reading, and free Palestine

[markerofthemidnight]

Sense you mentioned it, what's the name and general plot of the DND campaign you were worried would go on infant hiatus? Only if it's a public/streamed/recorded campaign.

-An Observatory 🌙

Well, then. I’ve been waiting for someone to ask this.

The campaign was a sort of slightly (emphasis on slightly) comedic, yet still very much horror-focused, version of the infamous Curse of Strahd.

The channel, if you’re interested, is called SpiffyNeedleGeeks. They’re a very small channel, being most famous for Smash trailer reactions back when Ultimate was just coming out a few years ago. Besides the DND, it’s mostly big AAA games they do, but they also cover horror every now and again each October!

Only about, like, 5% of their 2.5k subscribers pay any attention to their DND stuff. Besides that, they’re running two other (not cancelled) campaigns: Ravnica: Trail of Dragons (which I will admit I haven’t watched), and Strixhaven: A Curriculum of Chaos (which I have watched).

Anyways, back to Curse of Strahd… I’m pretty sure everyone knows how that campaign goes, but this one has a lot of unique twists and turns to add a sense of spice to it. If I were to sum it up in a very out-of-context way:

Basically, a dragon-worshipping Disney princess, a magical macaroni velociraptor soldier, Interdimensional Shitlord Pinocchio, a green Simon Belmont ripoff, a sword-wielding shiny Charizard with a fairy waifu, Big Bird, and the least scary demon you will ever meet try to fight a vampire and then get deeply traumatised.

Go… check it out, if you’d like! They’re not technically listed as podcasts on YouTube, but it still makes for a pretty fun thing to listen to as, like, background noise!

BUT: I will warn you first, try to avoid looking at the thumbnails of any future sessions at ALL COSTS. The thumbnail art updates as the PC’s designs change in-universe, and thumbnail art updates tend to happen pretty commonly over the course of the campaign. Each contains MASSIVE spoilers, so try and avoid them by any means necessary, as difficult as it may be.

And, if you see a playlist marked “SNG Streams: Dungeons and Dragons”, don’t open that either. That playlist is meant to hold oneshots and silly character creation streams, but for some reason a good 2/3rds of it is filled with Curse of Strahd sessions. JUST CoS, for some reason. And it begins with Session 20, a long way into the 30-session campaign. So don’t click it. Just click Curse of Strahd, and don’t scroll too far.

Anyways, if you do intent on listening to Curse of Strahd- or, heck, any of their campaigns- try and update me! I have been stuck waiting to be able to talk to someone about this after two and a half years of it being a hyperfixation of mine, so I’m… kinda going bonkers at this opportunity?

Anyway, have fun, Observatory! And whoever else is reading this, you can all check this out if you like!

[bunbeeplays]

The Lemon Legacy: Generation 1, Chapter 108 - Winterfest Woes Part 1

It's Winterfest, and Ophelia should be excited, but she can't help but feel… weird about Jane's passing. Surely she would love to know her death was ruining Ophelia's day. Still, she powers through.

Gemma: Mommy, t'ee!

Ophelia: That's right, it's a Winterfest tree!

Gemma plays with her diced pears rather than eating them.

Ophelia: Gemma, eat your food please.

The honey toast Ophelia made is probably too sugary and sticky for Gemma to handle but she was willing to give her some if it meant she actually ate.

Ophelia: Do you know what today is?

Gemma: Winnerfes!

Ophelia: That's right, Winterfest! Today's the day we give people we love presents to show them how much they mean to us.

Gemma: P'esant!

She laughs.

Ophelia: We'll open presents tonight, sweetie.

When Gemma runs off to play, Xander checks in with Ophelia.

Xander: How you holdin' up?

Ophelia: I'm fine.

Xander: Are you sure? I know you and your mom had a bad relationship but are you sure it's not affecting you at all?

Ophelia: Why would it?

Xander: Don't you lie to me, Lemon Cake. I know you.

Ophelia: …I don't know how to feel. It's not like I miss her. I never expected my mom to apologize and try to mend our relationship, but now that she's gone, it feels… bad that it's definitely never going to be an option.

Ophelia: I just want to enjoy our day. Let's go decorate the tree, okay?

Xander nods and gives his wife a deep kiss, as if that would make things less complicated. It helps, at least.

While Gemma plays with Chompy, her parents trim the tree.

Ophelia: Popcorn and cranberries? The cats will eat it!

Xander: I don't care! It's a Pappas family tradition. I took your name, I should get to pick the garland!

Ophelia can't argue with that. Xander wins this round.

Ophelia's in charge of the grand meal, and she knows she's going to be able to finally make something her picky girl will like. No toddler can resist baked mac and cheese, right?

Gemma's pulled out her art supplies, determined to make her first Winterfest the best one ever.

Gemma: I make Mommy an' Daddy p'esants, Lulu!

Lulu is nowhere near as thoughtful.

Ophelia comes to check on the girls.

Ophelia: What are you making, Gemma?

Gemma: P'esant for Mommy an' Daddy!

She's absolutely tickled Gemma, at her age, would even think of that.

Ophelia: Oh, okay, I won't peek! Mommy's just going to feed Lulu on the couch, okay?

After Lulu is fed and burped, Ophelia just holds her in her arms. Lulu loves being held, and besides, maybe Ophelia does need some comfort.

Ophelia: I know I'm not going to do everything right, but I'll try my best. I love you and your sister. I'll try not to screw up too bad.

The baked mac and cheese cooled off and the Lemons are ready to eat.

Gemma sits on the floor so Marshmallow won't be lonely. She takes a few bites before getting up and putting her bowl back on the table.

Gemma: No more!

Xander: Gemma, you barely touched it. Your hunger bar definitely isn't full.

Ophelia: Ugh, whatever. She doesn't have to eat it.

She doesn't know why Gemma refusing to finish another meal has her suddenly feeling so dejected. She tried her best and Gemma still won't eat it.

Xander: Ophelia, she has to-

Ophelia: I'm not going to force her to eat my awful cooking!

Xander: It's not awful, it's great! Kids go through picky phases. Maybe she's just sensitive to certain textures.

Ophelia: Or maybe she just hates me!

Xander's never seen her like this.

Xander: She doesn't hate you! Why would you-

Ophelia: I would have eaten mud if it made my mom happy and my kid won't even eat macaroni! What if I try my best and our kids STILL hate me, even when I'm dead? Maybe my mom really tried and I-

Ophelia: I… I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me.

Xander: You're grieving. It just looks different than it normally might. Gemma's saying no because she feels safe with us. You didn't have that luxury.

She knows he's right. Her mom scared her stiff growing up and yet…

Ophelia: I'm going to… freshen up.

She stands up and practically runs to the stairs.

Gemma, who had been too preoccupied playing with Marshmallow to listen to the conversation, sees her mom running off.

Gemma: Mommy?

Ophelia doesn't hear her.