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jenonctcity · 4 years

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My Ending - Part 2

Differences – Na Jaemin

Part of the Bad Boy Series.

Badboy!Au, Streetracer!Au

Disclaimer: This is going to be a very dark themed story, please do not read if you are triggered easily by the mentioned subjects in the warnings.

Warnings: Minor Character Death, Mentions of Suicide Attempts, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts, Mental Health Issues (Depression and Anxiety), Mentions of Drug Use/Overdose, Mentions of Drug Addiction Effecting Baby After Birth, Explicit Content.

Word Count: 8.3K

It was only a small lie. A teensy, tiny, white lie that couldn’t hurt anyone. And it boosted Jaemin’s confidence enough for him to flirt like he wasn’t unexperienced. He had no idea how Renjun had managed to lie so much throughout his life. Every time Jaemin made up stories of fucking random girls, he felt a burning fire in the pit of his stomach from the guilt of lying about it. Still, he didn’t see the harm in lying about being a virgin. He knew the only time it would matter would be when he got a girlfriend, which is why he decided to be transparent and tell you the truth instead of lying. You gave him a raised eyebrow and wide-eyed look. He tilted his head at your reaction and gave you a knowing smirk.

“You’re a virgin?” Your voice came out higher pitched than you had expected it to, causing Jaemin to laugh softly, nodding his head in confirmation.

“I am.” He leaned in and kissed your lips hard, overcome with want for you that he couldn’t stop himself from stealing your lips in his. “Does it bother you?” He mumbled into your mouth, his hot tongue pushing against yours as his hands stroked up your thighs to your hips, his fingers digging into you from how tight his grip was.

“No, it’s kinda hot actually.” You mumbled, not drawing away from his lips. He made a deep noise that rumbled from his throat, his kisses moving from your mouth, down your jaw, and to your neck. Your eyelids became heavy as he sucked at your sensitive spot, his tongue swirling around sinfully and his hot breath coming out in puffs against you, sending shivers down your spine. “Why though? You’re so confident and flirty surely you can get any girl in bed?” He chuckled against your neck and pulled away, his lips red and glistening with spit.

“I’ve never had a girlfriend before, and I didn’t want to have sex with some random girl who would forget my name the next day.” He shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips as his fingers worked in slow circles on your waist. You felt your heart bloom like a flower in the spring at his confession, your bottom lip coming out in a pout.

“Jaemin that’s so cute, you’re adorable.” You took his face in both of your hands, squishing his cheeks together and making his own lips form into a pout. He whined and tried to draw his head back, his cheeks flaring up bright red from being called adorable. The only person who had ever called him adorable was his grandmother, and that hadn’t been for many years. “Have you ever done…like other stuff with girls though?” You tilted your head in wonder, your thoughts drifting as Jaemin’s tongue poked out between his pouted lips. You let go of his face and instead placed your hands gently on his shoulders.

“Yeah I’ve been sucked off before and eaten some pussy.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal when in fact your heart started racing at the thought of his tongue in your intimate areas. “Have you had sex?” The question was nagging at his mind until he finally couldn’t take it anymore and had to ask you.

“I have, only like three times though with my ex-boyfriend.” You smiled and shrugged. “It was…mediocre, he cared more about his own orgasms.”

“Men aint shit baby girl.” Jaemin whispered, stealing a kiss from your lips again as a loud laugh erupted from you at the irony of his choice of words.

“But you’re a man?” You narrowed your eyes in amusement, his teeth on full display as he gave you a big cheeky grin.

“I’m not like other men though.” He winked, leading you to fake gag from the cheesiness, his fingers digging into your sides and tickling you as a punishment. “Just you wait and see!” He pushed you onto your back, your head hitting his pillows and his body slotting between your legs. You felt a firework of butterflies go off in your stomach from how having his body there made you feel. He reached over you, placing his hands on the bed either side of your neck, your body now completely caged in by his.

“I’m excited to see what you can do.” You smirked up at him, raising your eyebrows suggestively. His cheeks glowed pink and he bit his bottom lip, his eyes boring into yours without breaking contact even for a second. “Virgin.” You sniggered, his mouth dropping open as he sat back, faking offence and letting out a gasp. His hands finding your sides again to tickle you mercilessly. As he tickled you, he couldn’t help but realise that he’d met his dream girl. You weren’t afraid to tease him, you were kind, and you and him just instantly clicked. He didn’t want to voice his thoughts just in case you weren’t both on the same page, but he was almost 100% sure that you were going to be the girl to take his virginity.

---

Having a newborn baby in your arms was strange. Also a blessing, as not everyone would get to experience the wonder of holding a new life in their arms until they had their own children. Her smooth skin, fluffy black hair which she had a surprising amount of, her tiny fingers, and the little noises that would emit from her when she moved around in her sleep to get comfortable had you feeling soft. In the past two months of dating Jaemin you honestly could say that you’d beenhappier than you had in a long time. Jaemin was a whirlwind of everything perfect. He was the best boyfriend you could possibly ask for. His pores seeped with romance and affection, he was funny, and he did everything he possibly could to make you smile. It didn’t even bother you that you hadn’t had sex with him yet, you were happy to wait until he initiated things with you whenever he was ready. You had found out that he was an absolute master of using his tongue though, so you couldn’t complain.

This was your first time babysitting with Jaemin, and so far, everything was going great. Renjun’s newborn baby Jihyo was an absolute dream to watch over, mostly because the only bad thing she could do was cry, which she had only done briefly when she’d pooped, luckily Uncle Jaemin took care of that. Renjun and his girlfriend had decided to take Jiyeon to the zoo for the day without Jihyo, wanting to make sure that Jiyeon was still receiving as much love and attention as she needed. So when Renjun had mentioned in their group chat that he needed a babysitter, Jaemin had volunteered you both for the position.

“She’s so cute, how can anyone make something this precious?” You looked up from her peaceful face to Jaemin’s delicate face. He was sitting with you on the sofa, your back pressed into his chest as he cuddled the two of you. He looked into your eyes and smiled a wide smile, pressing a light kiss to the tip of your nose. You didn’t notice how he had literal hearts in his eyes from watching you hold a baby. Jaemin had always had a craving for the perfect family, and he knew he wouldn’t ever have that until he met the love of his life, got married, and had a baby. So he couldn’t help the way his heart kept speeding up as thoughts of wifing you up and making babies with you flashed through his head as if he was looking into the future. He didn’t want to rush things and end up scaring you away though, so those thoughts stayed locked inside of his own head for his eyes only.

“Well someone made you.” His reply had your eyes rolling, but you leaned your head back against his shoulder anyway, a gentle laugh tumbling from your lips at how corny he was.

“I bet you were a precious baby.” You commented offhandedly, not realising the emotional turmoil it would throw Jaemin into. He didn’t know how to tell you that he was anything but precious when he was born. He sighed and leaned the side of his head against yours, his arms tightening around you.

“I was born addicted to heroin.” He whispered, his stomach curdling at the words leaving his mouth. You whipped your head around and pulled it back slightly so that you could look at him properly. He gave you a small smile that didn’t reach his cheeks and it broke your heart slightly.

“Jaemin…you never told me that…” You furrowed your eyebrows in question. Now that you think about it, Jaemin hadn’t ever really spoken about his mother or father, only making a comment about his mother being dead. You didn’t want to pry, and you knew eventually he would open up to you about it, you just hadn’t expected it to be in this moment.

“My mother was an addict, and my father ran away as soon as he found out about my impending existence. My grandmother is my fathers’ mother and she was the one who took me in. She has nothing to do with my father either, I don’t even know where he is.” He shrugged like it didn’t matter, but by the look in his eyes, you could tell it tore him apart and had had an effect on him in the past. “I recovered but it stunted my growth growing up and I was bullied, a lot.” You wanted to grab him and give him a big squeeze, but with Jihyo in your arms it wasn’t possible. Instead you gave him a sad look, one that he could tell you were sympathising with him. “I’m okay now.” And all of a sudden, that Jaemin was gone, like he had never even existed. A big smile took over his face and it was if he had just told you that he’d won the lottery. His eyes moved from you to focus on Jihyo. “Come here my pretty girl, it’s uncle nana’s turn for a cuddle.” He shuffled out from behind of you, now sitting beside you as he scooped the sleeping tot from your hold. You opted not to ask any questions or say anything, just faking a smile and stroking Jihyo’s hair down after it fluffed up from the transfer. You couldn’t even think of what kind of questions you could ask him about his past, and you didn’t know what would be triggering for him.

“You love kids don’t you.” You decided to comment, keeping it positive and a good conversation changer. He nodded his head quickly in agreement; thankful you didn’t insist on talking about his past.

“Oh! I almost forgot,” His eyes flicked up to look into yours and you felt almost stunned by how beautiful he was. Sometimes you’d forget that he was your boyfriend and when you remembered you felt giddy inside. “I have a race on Friday, would you like to come?”

“You’re okay with me being there?” You raised your eyebrows in surprise at his offer. You’d asked him if you could see him race before, and he’d told you that he wasn’t sure if he wanted you there or not.

“Yeah, I want to see your beautiful face after I win.” He looked down at the baby in his arms and pressed the softest kiss to her forehead, bouncing her very gently to soothe her after she started to make a fuss, quiet whines emitting from her and her little body attempting to twist around. His words left a feeling of warmth inside of you, and you knew that you wouldn’t miss his race for the world.

“Then I’ll be there.”

---

“So are you going to be in the car with him or watching with me?” Haechan’s voice dragged your attention from a girl wearing the tiniest pair of shorts you’d ever seen, back to him. He smiled at you in amusement of your shocked expression. He was clearly used to this type of environment, seeing the scantily dressed women, and men who looked like they could break all of the bones in your body with a flick of their wrist. But you felt safe with Haechan, since you considered him to be someone who was able to protect you. The starting point of the race was also the finishing point, and it was behind the old railway tracks that weren’t in the populated areas of the city, less likely for the police to find it. There was a lot of people attending the race, and you had lost sight of Jaemin after you’d arrived with him. He’d passed you over to Haechan, pressed a kiss to the side of your head, and told you he had to ‘take care of something’.

“Watching with you,” You smiled up at him, then furrowed your eyebrows as you thought about it. “would I even be allowed in the car with him?” He shrugged, biting the inside of his cheek as he also thought about it.

“Probably, it’s not like you would affect his racing at all.” You didn’t want to ask Jaemin though, because you didn’t actually want to be in the car whilst he was racing. It was a scary thought to you, but you were just curious as to if you could or not.

“When does it start?”

“In about 10 minutes.” You gave him a small smile and let out a sigh, your eyes scanning the crowd to see if you could spot Jaemin. You couldn’t, so you just turned your attention back to Haechan.

“Where’s your girlfriend? Did she not want to come?” His shoulders sank and he gave you an awkward smile, scratching the back of his head before clearing his throat.

“We’re kind of on a break right now, things got a bit too much with the whole Jeno situation and I’m not sure what’s going to happen.” He shrugged, but you could tell he was bothered by it, his eyes drifting to the floor as he kicked at a stone on the floor.

“Oh I’m sorry, Jaemin didn’t tell me!” You felt bad, but you didn’t know so there wasn’t much you could have done to avoid the awkwardness now floating in the air between you both. He shrugged again and gave you a genuine smile, shuffling over from foot to foot.

“Don’t worry about it, come on let’s go wait by the starting line.” He grabbed you by the shoulders from behind and steered you towards where a white line of paint had been marked on the floor. You stood behind the metal barriers, Haechan standing close to you to stop any of the sleezy men from approaching you. He bumped his shoulder against yours and nodded towards the cars approaching the line. “It’s about to start.” You felt your heart sink slightly that you didn’t get to give Jaemin a good luck kiss. You knew what he did was dangerous, and if anything happened to him during the race without you kissing him before hand, you’d be absolutely heartbroken.

“I’m nervous.” You mumbled, glancing at Haechan quickly before giving Jaemin’s car all of your attention. The car visibly rumbling from the strength of the engine and how Jaemin was revving it, the sound loud but muffled with the rest of the other noisy cars.

“Don’t be. Jaemin is probably the best racer here and he knows what he’s doing.” Haechan’s words reassured you but there was still a slight nagging feeling in your stomach that something bad was going to happen.

Everything flashed by quicker than you could have ever imagined. A girl wearing nothing but a bikini top and jean shorts stood in the middle of the dirt road, the white flag in her hand falling to the floor to signify the start of the race. The cars took off with a cloud of dirt left in their wake, the loud engines fading as the cars went down the dirt road. Haechan had told you that after the dirt road finished, they’d race through the city, then they’d loop back around and finish exactly where they’d started. Everyone went back to chatting and mingling with each other as they waited for the tell-tale sound of cars approaching. Haechan got you a can of beer from the cooler in his car and he kept you close to his side. He tried to convince you to dance to the music coming from someone’s car, and as you tried to brush him off, he grabbed you and twirled you around, forcing you to dance with him which had you both wheezing of laughter from how chaotic it was. You didn’t realise how fun Haechan could be, and you felt bad for having assumed he was dangerous and having tried to avoid him as much as you could. You still knew he was dangerous, but you knew he wasn’t a danger to you.

The sound of the car’s engines getting louder brought everyone out of their mingling, and you rushed with Haechan back over to the metal barrier. Jaemin’s car skidded around the corner with perfect control on the dirt road, the rest of the cars close behind him, but he was in the lead. You watched with bated breath, unable to even cheer like the rest of the crowd as Jaemin crossed the finish line first. You felt Haechan’s arms around you, lifting you up and spinning you around.

“He won!” Haechan’s confirmation of what you already knew had you laughing, and you couldn’t control the grin on your face. You felt an overwhelming sense of pride in your boyfriend, knowing that racing means a lot to him and winning is such an accomplishment. He’d told you before that when he doesn’t win, he gets into a funk for a few days, feeling like a failure because the only thing he was really good at was driving. You wanted to disagree with him, but in typical Jaemin fashion, he changed the subject before you could address it. Haechan took your hand in his own and almost dragged you with him to where Jaemin had parked his car. Jaemin was sat on the hood of his car, his arms folded over his chest with a big smirk painted on his face when he noticed you approaching him. He pushed himself off of the car and picked you up as you ran into his arms, holding you by your thighs and pressing his lips to yours.

“You won baby!” You giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck and holding onto him like your life depended on it. Haechan came up beside you and patted Jaemin on the shoulder, mumbling something in his ear before disappearing off. “Where’s he going?” You tilted your head, your eyes following Haechan until he disappeared out of sight.

“He’s a drug dealer babe, I think you know where he’s going.” He chuckled, still holding you in his arms. He laid a soft kiss onto your lips, humming against them in satisfaction with his hands rubbing against your thighs in a massaging motion. “We need to celebrate my win, don’t you think?” He whispered against your lips, nipping at your bottom lip with his teeth.

“Mmm we do, how are we going to celebrate?” Your lips brushed against his as you spoke, your fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. Jaemin’s smirk grew and he glanced down at your lips, pecking them with his quickly and trailing kisses down to your ear.

“I want to fuck you.” He whispered in a seductive tone, his grip tightening on you as you gasped in surprise. You felt a fire ignite in your stomach at his suggestive words, the thing you’d been waiting for finally about to happen. He dragged his lips back to yours, his tongue licking into your mouth and making it feel like fireworks sparked between you.

“Please do.” He set you down on your feet, pulling his phone from his pocket and quickly texting Haechan to tell him that you were both leaving. You let yourself into the passenger side of Jaemin’s car, almost bouncing in your seat at how excited you were to finally have sex with Jaemin. Jaemin disappeared for a few minutes before climbing in beside you, revving the engine and placing a big bag of money underneath his seat.

The two of you drove away, and you were surprised to find out you weren’t going in the direction of either of yours homes, your eyebrows furrowing in question but you didn’t bother asking Jaemin about his intended destination, instead just going with the flow, all of your trust in Jaemin. The trees on either side of the rural road were only lit up by the moonlight and the headlights of the car. No other cars were anywhere to be seen as you looked at the clock and noticed is was nearing 2am, so you felt as if it was just you and Jaemin in the world, no other people mattering to you as Jaemin pulled the car into a grassy car park next to a nature trail, obviously no one around to disturb you. You glanced over at Jaemin as he turned off the ignition, the moonlight shining against his beautiful features. You could see that he took a deep breath, clenching his fists and then rubbing his sweaty palms against his thighs.

“I should have known you would want to lose your virginity in your car.” You giggled, reaching over and taking one of his hands into your own. He let out a soft laugh, his gaze switching from his steering wheel over to you. “Are you nervous?” You lowered the sound of your voice, it coming out soft and as your words hit Jaemin’s ears they almost melted from how delicate they sounded.

“A little, I just want to make you feel good.” He found his courage and swooped in, catching your lips between his own and moving his hands from his thighs to rest one on your thigh, and the other on your waist.

“I want you so bad.” You mumbled into his mouth as your tongue fought for dominance, his tongue winning and turning the kiss heated and sensual immediately. You grabbed his hand, popping open the button on your jeans and guiding his hand inside of your panties. He let out a soft gasp, his lips pulling away from yours.

“Fuck you’re so wet for me already.” He almost growled, his fingers moving up and down your folds, spreading your essence up to your clit before circling it with two of his fingers. “Does that feel good?” He laid a kiss to your neck, prompting you to tilt your head away from him to give him easier access.

“Yeah, oh Jaemin.” You let out a breathy moan, sinking slightly in the seat as he started sucking on your neck, his fingers working magic against your over sensitive bundle of nerves. You’d started getting wet from the second Jaemin mentioned fucking you, all of the thoughts that had ran through your head turning filthy and making your thighs clench together on the way there, needing friction in the place you couldn’t wait for Jaemin to touch. You even thought about all of the times Jaemin had eaten you out, licking you to completion like an expert with your thighs thrown over his shoulders, your toes curling as he sucked on your clit like it was his lifeline. What he lacked in experience, he sure made up for in natural talent and enthusiasm. You also thought about how well his cock would fit inside of you, the few times you’d seen it when you’d sucked him off or given him a handjob giving you a lot of hope for how good it could make you feel inside of your tight pussy. So by the time Jaemin slid two fingers inside of you, you were already ready and gagging for his cock to be inside of you.

“Will you ride me?” He muttered against your neck, licking a stripe up your soft skin and blowing cool air against it, a shiver running through you that shot straight to your core. You nodded your head eagerly, grabbing his wrist to stop his fingers. He pulled his hand out of your pants, waiting for you to make the next move as he held his breath in anticipation. You lifted your hips from the seat, tucking your fingers into the waistband of your jeans and tugging them down your legs with your panties in tow. You kicked off your shoes and rid yourself of your jeans and panties, leaving them pooled in the footwell of the car. It was all very hurried, but you didn’t want to waste any more time, and Jaemin was so nervous that he just wanted to get things in motion. Jaemin unzipped his jeans, pushing them down slightly and pulling his half hard cock out of his boxers. He gripped his shaft in his shaky hand, giving it a few pumps.

“Let me.” You pushed your hair behind your shoulders and leaned down, kissing the tip of his cock with a teasing peck, before swirling your tongue around the head. Letting out a sultry moan, Jaemin tipped his head back to rest against his seat, his eyes staring up at the ceiling as he got lost in your mouth. You sunk down on his cock, hollowing your cheeks and bobbing your head on him, forcing him to squeeze his eyes shut in pleasure, placing his hand on the top of your head and threading his fingers through your hair. He tugged on your hair gently in encouragement, guiding your head up and down his length with his breathing picking up.

“Baby stop,” He gulped, pulling your head up with his hands cupping your cheeks, his thumb rubbing against your hot skin as he leaned in and pecked your lips with his own. “I wanna cum inside of you.”

“Have you got a condom?” You were on the pill, but you didn’t want to risk getting pregnant, it was something the both of you had discussed before and you’d both came to an agreement that if you have a baby together then it would be planned. Jaemin had seen how badly unplanned pregnancies had been on Jeno and Renjun’s relationships, and even though he knew not every relationship went through tough times because of an unexpected baby, he didn’t want to take the risk.

“Yeah.” He reached over and opened the glove box, pulling out a foil packet and giving you a smile. You watched as he rolled the rubber down his fully hard cock, your stomach fluttering from how hot the sight looked. “Okay, I’m ready.” He pushed his seat back slightly, making room between him and the steering wheel for you. You awkwardly clambered over the centre console and settled down into his lap with your legs either side of his. “Hi.” He chuckled weakly, his cheeks already red from how nervous and shy he suddenly felt.

“Hi.” You nuzzled your nose against his, laying a gentle kiss on his lips as you placed one hand on his shoulder, the other one gripping his cock to line it up with your almost dripping centre. Jaemin’s hands found purchase on your hips, his breath hitching as you slowly lowered yourself onto him.

“Oh my-” You cut him off by smashing your lips into his, his moan melting into your mouth as you circled your hips, sitting comfortably and ignoring the slight sting from the stretch you hadn’t felt in so long. “Shit.” He mumbled; the words muffled against your lips. You couldn’t help the big smile that stretched across your lips, overjoyed at giving Jaemin something he’d been waiting for long for and getting such a positive reaction from him. You felt a rush of heat go through you as you realised how hot it was getting in the car, your eyes drifting from Jaemin over to the windows that were all fogged up from the heated situation between you both. He followed your gaze and mirrored your smile, lifting his finger and drawing a heart in the condensation. You laughed and laid your head against his, almost forgetting that his cock was buried balls deep inside of you as you placed a tender kiss on his cheek.

“Can you take your shirt off?” You whispered, your hands coming down to sit at the hem of his long-sleeved, black shirt. “I… wanna see your tattoos.” You felt shy admitting it, but Jaemin’s tattoos were a huge turn on for you. They had an array of colours from wrist to shoulder, mostly black but the colour fitted perfectly with the designs. When he was wearing his long-sleeved t-shirt you couldn’t even tell that he had both arms completely covered in tattoos, and you loved how it was a complete contrast to his butter wouldn’t melt face and baby pink hair. His smirk grew and he nodded his head fast, lifting his arms as you shimmied his shirt over his head, quickly discarding of it in the back seat. “You’re so hot, I’m so lucky.” You dived your face into the crook of his neck, licking a stripe up his slightly salty skin before latching your teeth onto him. You lifted yourself up as you sucked on his neck, his hands settling on your hips as you dropped back down, a dull pang of pleasure mixed slightly with pain blooming to life inside of you.

“Baby! oh…oh!” Jaemin’s moans were like music to your ears when you started to circle your hips, getting a perfect rhythm until you were bouncing in his lap, the car moving up and down in time with you both. Jaemin started to buck his hips up, chasing after the euphoric feeling he’d never experienced in this way before. The heat in the car was rising, and Jaemin’s chest was starting to shine from sweat underneath the moonlight streaming in from the little heart Jaemin made on the window.

“You feel so good.” You praised him, grabbing his face in your hands and licking into his mouth. Jaemin keened at your praise, his hips quicken up as his tongue flicked with yours. You slipped your hands down to the side of his neck and could feel his muscles tense up in, his fingers pressing into your hips tight enough that you were sure they would leave little bruises. You kept your lips on his, trailing your hands down to his biceps and gripping onto them to keep yourself stable. “Right there!” You squealed as you dropped down onto him and he bucked up at the perfect time, the tip of his cock hitting your sensitive spot to your surprise. You knew it was a place that not many men could find, and you hadn’t expected Jaemin to hit it dead on with his first time, but he did, and it left a fire burning inside of you. He smiled, proud of himself for making you feel so good, but it was short lived as his orgasm creeped up on him.

“I’m close,” He whispered, his head falling back and eyes shutting, stars starting to fizzle against the black of eyelids from how hard he was squeezing his eyes shut. “Fuck I’m cumming!” He stopped thrusting, his hips stilling as his cock spurted cum into the condom, a long drawn out whine leaving his parted lips that had also stilled against your mouth. You were close, and you knew if he could deal with some oversensitivity for a few moments then you’d be able to chase your own high. You gripped onto his shoulders and started to bounce on his lap faster than before, short pants leaving your parted lips and your head falling to rest on your left hand on his shoulder. It was when he lifted his hips one final time, his half hard cock slamming once more into your g-spot that you felt your thighs start to quiver, your fingers digging into his skin as your orgasm crashed into you. You’d never came so fast before in your entire life, and it was even more shocking to you that someone who’d never fucked before in their life was the one to bring that onslaught of a feeling to you. It made sense that Jaemin came so quickly, but you had no excuse apart from Jaemin being naturally gifted in the bedroom and from how wound up you were waiting for him to fuck you.

“Fuck.” You huffed out, Jaemin’s arms wrapping around you like a blanket to secure you against his body as he came down from your high. He laid butterfly kisses to your neck as you nuzzled into his shoulder, feeling secure and loved in his hold.

“(Y/N)…” You lifted your head lazily to look him in the eyes, the moon reflecting in his dark irises and causing a pool of something unfamiliar to form in your gut. He took a few deep breaths as you stared into your eyes, his gaze flicking down to scan over your face before lifting back to your enchanting eyes. “I love you.” You then realised what the unfamiliar feeling you were feeling was. It’s what lead you to utter the words back to him.

“I love you too.” In perfect synchronisation you both leaned in, your lips meeting in the middle and sealing the love you’d just confession to each other for the first time.

---

You hadn’t heard from Jaemin yet. It was 5:30pm and really strange that you hadn’t heard from him since the day prior, when usually on the days you had work, you’d pick your phone up to multiple messages from him. But today, none. It caused a tiny spark of worry in your stomach, mainly because you knew he was very reckless with his car, even though you trusted his driving 100%, you couldn’t trust every other driver on the road. So instead of heading home, you jumped into your car and headed over to his apartment. His car was out the front, in perfect condition as usual, so you crossed that off of reasons why Jaemin hadn’t messaged you. You let out a sigh in relief, stopping your car behind his own, also noting that Haechan’s car was parked on the road, so at least you’d have someone to answer the door even if Jaemin wasn’t home.

As you approached the door you took a deep breath, knocking timidly and knotting your fingers together in anticipation as you waited for someone to answer the door. It wasn’t long before the door opened, Haechan appearing behind the door with a lopsided smile on his face.

“Oh hey (Y/N), Jaemin didn’t say he was expecting you.” He stepped aside, wordlessly telling you to come in. You walked in, taking off your shoes and smiling up at him nervously.

“He isn’t expecting me, but he hasn’t messaged me today and I was just stopping by to see if he was okay. I’m just happy he hasn’t wrapped his car around a tree.” You laughed softly with no amusement in your voice at all.

“Oh…he’s in his room.” He nodded in the direction of Jaemin’s room and watched as you started to walk towards it. “(Y/N),” He called out quietly causing you to turn around before you reached the door, tilting your head in question. “He hasn’t had a good day…just a heads up.”

“Okay.” You nodded and gently knocked on Jaemin’s door before letting yourself in. The first thing you noticed was the curtains were drawn shut, only a few rays of light peeking in through the gaps where the curtains meet. Then you noticed the big lump on the bed. You had a feeling Jaemin was the lump, his back to you and the duvet pulled up over his head. “Jaem…?” You called out, waking around the bed and catching the eyes of Jaemin. His eyes were completely bloodshot, and only his head was poking out from the duvet, his hair messier than you’d ever seen before.

“Hey.” He mumbled with no enthusiasm evident in his voice. He sniffed, poking a hand up from his duvet to wipe at his eyes, giving you proof that he’d cried at least once today. He made no effort to get up, simply staring at you with a horribly emotionless look behind his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” You sat down on the bed beside his body, your hand settling on the top of the lump where you assumed his hip was. He let out a long sigh and momentarily shut his eyes, as if he was bracing himself for something. You’d never seen Jaemin in this state before. He’d always presented himself as a positive, happy person, so to see him looking as broken as he did when he opened his eyes to look at you again shook you to the core. But even the happiest person on the world has their moments of sadness too.

“I don’t want to burden you.” He settled on, the lump moving as he shrugged his shoulders, his lips naturally pouting like a stubborn child.

“Are you sick?” You quizzed on, your stomach starting to curdle from the worry you felt at seeing your normally bubbly boyfriend looking so glum.

“No.”

“Did something happen?”

“No.”

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No, it’s not you.”

“Did something happen with the boys?”

“No.”

“Did something happy with your grandma?”

“No.” You were starting to feel defeated and slightly frustrated that he wasn’t cooperating with you.

“Okay.” You shrugged, completely giving up and letting out an irritated sigh. You stayed silent, turning away from him slightly to look around his room. You noticed his phone on charge across the room, his normally put away clothes just strewn across the floor as if he’d completely just thrown them there. You pulled your hand away from him and instead knotted it up with your other hand, twiddling your fingers together as you got lost in your thoughts. You felt sick with worry, not knowing how when he would recover from whatever was floating around in his own head. His voice pulled your out of your thoughts, your stomach dropping at what he said.

“I have severe depression, and today I woke up and wanted to kill myself to stop the feeling, the only reason I didn’t was because I saw the text you sent me this morning telling me to have a good day and that you love me. Then I felt awful because I know how it feels to lose someone, and it isn’t ever a feeling I want you to feel.” He let out a soft sob, his eyes squeezing shut and taking in a deep breath as he looked up at the back of your head. He could tell from how your body was shaking that you were crying silently. Your face was creased up as you cried for your boyfriend, feeling your heart crack at this confession.

“Jaemin…” You stood up and turned to face him, tugging the duvet out of his grip. You stripped off your uniform, mainly for hygiene reasons, so you were just in your underwear before you climbed into his bed with him, pressing your forehead against his own. “Thank you.” You whispered, your hand finding on of his underneath the duvet and threading your fingers with his.

“What for?” He gulped, his pillow now wet and uncomfortable but he couldn’t find it in him to care as he felt you there with him.

“For not doing it.” You couldn’t even think of the words to describe the horrible feeling you had swirling around inside of your tense stomach. Your boyfriend had just admitted something so incredibly crushing to you, and the only thing you could think of was how he had kept this to himself for the past five months of your relationship. You weren’t mad. You didn’t think you could ever be mad at him for this. No, you were heartbroken. Heartbroken for him because he had been fighting an internal battle all on his own when you could have been there as a support beam for him. “Talk to me in future, I’m so in love with you and I never want you to fight anything on your own.” Your voice was shaky, small sobs still falling from your lips as you gripped onto his hand tightly.

“I’ll be okay.” He whispered, moving his head up and placing a lingering kiss on your forehead.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He pulled his hand out of your grip, instead wrapping his arms around your torso and holding you tightly against his chest. He didn’t want to see you cry because of him, so if he hugged you it would block your face from his vision, and he could bring you comfort. He also didn’t want you to see the tears falling from his red eyes.

“I wanted to pretend everything was perfect. You’re perfect for me, and I wanted a life to match that. I’m sorry baby.” He breathed through his mouth to try and steady out his breathing, his arms tightening around you like a vice.

“You haven’t got to apologise…can I ask why you have depression?” He took a deep breath at your question. You could feel and hear his heart beating against your ear, the steady thumps bringing you more comfort that you thought it ever could. Jaemin poured his heart out to you completely, not missing out any details about his past, answering all the unasked questions you had in your head that you had waited patiently for him to open up to you about. He told you more about his birth, going into detail about his parents and his grandmother. You’d heard this before when you had babysat with him, but this time he told you everything in finer detail. Then he told you about his stunted growth and how he was bullied severely at school, which is what caused him to be the person he is today. It made sense that he wanted people to see him as a positive person, but you found it hard to wrap your head around how someone who went through all of that could be as positive as he had always appeared to be without having an episode like he was currently going through. It made perfect sense to you, and you felt like you understood Jaemin a lot more now. The final piece of the puzzle that was Jaemin fitting into place.

“I promise that I don’t go through phases like this often, and I don’t really have a trigger…it just randomly hits me, and I guess today was one of those days.” His hands rubbed up and down your back, his fingertips tracing circles in on your bare skin sending shivers through you.

“It wouldn’t matter to me if you went had phases like this all the time, I love you for you, depression included.” You laughed very softly, closing your eyes from how his heartbeat and your eyes, tired from cry, was making you feel sleepy. He let out a gentle laugh, his lips placing a firm kiss to your head. “Tell me in future, I’ll call in sick and we can spend the day as bed burritos together okay?”

“Bed burritos?” He raised an eyebrow in confusion, already feeling a flicker of positivity burning like a tiny flame inside the pit of negativity inside of him.

“Yeah, you were wrapped up in your duvet like a burrito. Bed burrito.” You yawned, totally relaxed with him now, a complete contrast to how you felt when you’d entered the room. Jaemin laughed again, the flicker inside of him growing again.

“Okay beautiful.” He moved a hand down to pat your butt affectionately and with no intention behind it. It was when you fell asleep on his chest, and he looked down at your peacefully sleeping face that he realised you were the woman he’d dreamt of every time he’d fantasied about his perfect future. The mysterious woman in all of his visions, the one walking down the aisle, the one holding his faceless children’s hands, the one growing old beside him, now having a face and a name.

---

Jaemin had never felt so nervous before in his entire life. And that was saying something, considering the rollercoaster of a life he’d lived. But even the nervousness of going to school, the nervousness of his first race, and his nervousness to lose his virginity couldn’t compared to this. But he’d made his mind up, and he was determined not to chicken out. ‘Chill out man, it’s not like you’re going to ask her to marry you, you’re only asking her if she wants to move in with you. You know she’ll say yes, so be chill.’ Jeno’s words rang through his head as he held you in his arms, swaying with you in the darkness of the night, the moon and the stars the only witnesses to his nerves since you hadn’t seemed to have caught on to his slightly tense body and shaky hands.

“Are you cold?” You spoke to softly Jaemin almost didn’t catch your words as you spoke them into his neck, your head tucked under his chin in your favourite spot. You felt so secure and loved when you snuggled into him like that, and he always pulled you to that position if he held you. “Your hands are shaking.” You could feel how his fingers were tapping against you from the way they shook, and even though you were enjoying your little slow dance under the moonlight, you’d prefer Jaemin didn’t catch a cold. The breeze was slow, and the air was warm, but you knew everyone reacted to temperature differently. Something you’d been made aware of working as a carer, most of your elderly clients feeling the cold a lot more than you and complaining about it despite the sweat you had on your forehead from being so hot.

“No, I’m okay…are you cold?” He glanced up at the sky, the moon being bright and easily visible through the clearing in the trees. This was the spot where he’d lost his virginity, and he loved to come here not only to relive that moment in his thoughts, but because it was peaceful and serene, nobody around to disturb the calm.

“I’m toasty.” You giggled, your arms wrapped around his neck as you snuggled into his warmth further, if it was even possible. He let out a quick laugh and then gently tugged you away from him, his eyes darting over your face quickly. You furrowed your eyebrows at how he was looking at you, about to ask him if he was feeling okay when he leaned in, catching your lips with his own. You closed your eyes, moving your lips slowly with his as his hand came up to stroke your cheek with so much delicacy you could hardly feel his feather light touch. He broke the kiss and whispered against your lips.

“Keep your eyes closed.” He took a step back from you and took a deep breath. You kept your eyes closed, slightly scared he was going to run away and make you play a sadistic game of hide and seek in a dark forest. But then you felt stupid because you knew Jaemin would never make you do that. You almost giggled to yourself from the thought when Jaemin spoke up again. “Okay so, I’ve waited for you for what feels like forever. And now that you’re in my life I know I never want to you leave again, and I want to wake up beside you every morning. You’ve brought so much joy and love I never knew I could feel from anyone other than my grandma,” He let out an awkward laugh after he said that, then carried on, swallowing the lump in his throat. “You’ve shown that you’ll support me through thick and thin these past six months and I’ve never been so sure of something before in my life as that I’m sure you’re the love of my life…Okay open your eyes.” When you opened them you were confused for a second, wondering when Jaemin became a magician and could disappear so fast when his voice was clearly in front of you. You had been told by Jeno a few days prior that Jaemin was going to ask you to move in with him, his excuse for telling you was ‘he’s going to be super nervous so if you’re going to say no then at least you can plan your way of letting him down gently.’ And you assumed this was his way of asking you to move in with him, expecting him to be holding a key when you opened your eyes, and you were definitely going to say yes. However, when your line of sight drifted down and your jaw almost hit the floor when you saw him down on one knee, a ring in a box in his hand and a nervous look on his face, not so expertly covered by a smile.

“Will you marry me?”

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sunmaylight · 3 years

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TGCF Book 3 Reaction pt.3 - Wind Master’s Self-Designated Quest & The Events that Happen After

I am back again with reactions & comments for when I read book 3.

This is honestly fun for me because I can look back at what I read and remember my first reaction to everything. I can also see how things connect to make up each arc by going back and reading them.

I really want to start book 4, but completing this first so I compose myself and not be a mess of emotions reading it. Cause, any book that is mainly about Xie Lian’s past is bound to be filled with angst and possible tears for the guy.

Ch 102: The Love for All Seasons Stew, the stew Xie Lian made and Shi Qingxuan is enthusiastically wanting to try some, shares with Ming Yi. Hua Cheng eats it like nothing and gives Xie Lian feedback

- Me: Ah, RIP Shi Qingxuan and Ming Yi. It was nice knowing you two.

Start of the Venerable of Empty Words

Ch 103: The stew knocks out Ming Yi and sends Shi Qingxuan to tears. Then Shi Qingxuan hallucinates

- Me: You know, by this point Xie Lian should have his own warning label to prevent this from happening in the future. What if he made something for Jun Wu and kills him with his cooking? Actually, that sounds pretty funny. This just in: Heavenly Emperor Jun Wu defeated by a plate of questionable food made by his favorite Heavenly Official, Xie Lian.

103: Shi Qingxuan tells a horror story. Xie Lian feels a cold breeze and discovers it’s made by SQX.

- Ah, I think I’m understanding more that Heavenly Officials are really eccentric. Especially the upper court.

Xie Lian casually mentioning he has encountered a Venerable of Empty Words in the past and how that ghost left him after staying with the fallen god for almost a year.

- Me: *sobs* Xie Lian.

Wind Master talking about his past before ascension and then post ascension

- Me: Okay, but did you actually ascend?

Learns about Heavenly Calamities

- Me: Well, that will surely be relevant in the future.

105: Investigating for the Ghost. Learns that from a tampered list that Hua Cheng killed vengeful, malevolent tyrants

- Me: Hua Cheng, who else have you killed? How the fu-dge is it that you are more productive than Heavenly Officials in making sure nothing bad happens?

As the group was going to leave, Xie Lian remembers the kids (& Qi Rong).

Hua Cheng: I have already called a babysitter. Don’t worry about a thing Gege.

106: The group was teleported to the wrong place.

- Me: Well, aren’t things starting out just lovely.

Hua Cheng changed clothes and Xie Lian Noticed.

Hua Cheng & Xie Lian exchange verbal communication passwords. Hua Cheng’s password has Xie Lian blushing.

- Me: WHAT IS IT?

Xie Lian’s password: “Just recite the Ethics Sutra a thousand times.”

- Me: ...Is that a joke? Xie Lian, if they actually had to recite that, it’s like saying you don’t want people to talk to you.

Xie Lian’s password is revealed to be just that phrase. He set it up as a joke

- Me: goddamnit. I have been bamboozled.

Learning about the legend of the Potential Scholar He, who was mad smart but got a lot of people wanting to crush him out of jealousy. He died after getting his revenge against those who were gatekeeping him.

- Me: HI! WHERE IS THE SHRINE FOR THIS GUY. I NEED A SHRINE TO WORSHIP SCHOLAR HE AS WELL AS A CERTAIN DIANXIA AND HUA CHENGZU

Xie Lian and Hua Cheng now have to play Mafia in a four man group.

Ch 108: A game to sniff out the Word Ghost. The game reminds me of the Japanese Game, King’s Game.

- Me: Is there a Chinese equivalent to the King’s Game?

SQX -’king’- Xie Lian and Hua Cheng have to strip each other. Just one layer

- Me: If this was me to my crush, I would be weirded out to do this in front of my friends. Unless if I was drunk

SQX to Hua Cheng (from the book): “What’s the worse suffering in the world?”

Hua Cheng: “To watch with your own eyes your beloved be trampled and ridiculed, yet unable to do anything. That’s the worse suffering in the world.”

- Me: (ToT) Hua Cheng. I got to mark this down. Hua Cheng’s beloved and him need their happy ending.

Ming Yi to Xie Lian: “What’s the biggest regret of your life?”

Xie Lian: “My Second Ascension.”

- Me: !!! Xie Lian, what the F*CK happened during the shortest ascension recorded in Heaven?

Ch 109: Hua Cheng lends Xie Lian a ‘bit’ of spiritual power. Xie Lian does a palm thrust and blows off the roof of the temple.

- Xie Lian & Me: ...Hua Cheng, that’s a little bit?

Hua Cheng: Was that not enough? I can lend you more.

Ch 110: Hua Cheng puts on a mini fashion show to Xie Lian in the middle of something important.

Xie Lian: *focus is pulled away to stare at Hua Cheng*

- Me: Okay. Cute, but please focus. There is a time and place for everything. Now is not the time!

Water Master is suppose to prepare for the third Heavenly Calamity. SQX is kidnapped

- Me: What if this is the third calamity? Having to save SQX from the Venerable of Empty Words?

Xie Lian wants to do a soul-shifting spell, but Hua Cheng is stopping him.

- Me: Hm, does Hua Cheng know something? That is suspicious.

Ch 111: Venerable of Empty Words says: “Don’t worry, with your eyes wide open, you will watch the person coming to seek you die before you!”

- Me: *Thinks of Hua Cheng for Xie Lian* Shit, it got to Xie Lian. I really hope this doesn’t happen in the future. Cause, it’s not like Hua Cheng can die by conventional means since his ashes are ***** - Safe

Wind Master is revealed to be wearing a lot of treasures and gems on their person

- Me: Why is Wind Master wearing all of that?

Soul-Shifting spell ends, Xie Lian hears Hua Cheng’s voice

- Oh shit. I think Hua Cheng is mad.

SQX: “This is the Terrace of Cascading Wine. It’s where I ascended”

- Me: Wait, SQX is one of the Four Famous Tales? The odd one that is like Qi Rong that is about a guy who ascended for just pouring wine?

Learns that Xie Lian was actually sleeping when he ascended.

- Which ascension did that happen at?

SQX is in hysteria after Shi Wudu grabs him. SQX was acting suspicious before then SWD arrived.

- Me: Wow, what happened to SQX? D-did he actually fail his Heavenly Calamity and this is part of the punishment? Do Heavenly Officials get an advance notice that they have a Heavenly Calamity they have to face? Or is he behaving like this because of the removal of all of those artifacts and jewels?

-----

Ch 113: Hua Cheng sent a step-litter, a step-litter that is very extravagant, to Xie Lian. Hua Cheng is giving Xie Lian a fancy carriage ride towards somewhere.

- Me: Wow. What an obvious sign that Hua Cheng has deep feelings for Xie Lian

The whole Step-Litter Scene of Ghost calling Xie Lian Hua Cheng’s ‘lady’ while he was in the Step-Litter and everything after until they drop Xie Lian off at Puqi Shrine

- Me: THIS NEEDS TO BE ANIMATED

Xie Lian’s new banner: “Return Babes through Miraculous Hands”

- No words

Hua Cheng helping Xie Lian do a task of working in the field. There is an indescribable tension that has been created through Xie Lian’s dense brain

- Me: Man, you can slice the tension with a sword and they still wouldn’t realize anything.

Xie Lian has a mysterious donor who filled his donation box with gold bars. He decides to return them

- Me: Yes, good for you Xie Lian. You do you.

The Drama between the Wind and Water Masters

- Me: You know, there is someone on YouTube who animated this part. I can now only visualize that while reading through my notes.

Earth Master forged his shovel to be his spiritual device. Ming Yi, Shi Qingxuan and Xie Lian travel through the tunnels dug by the Earth Master’s Shovel under Heaven

- Me: Wait, does this mean technically anything can be made into a spiritual device?

SQX can’t access his spiritual powers

- Me: shit. Did he actually fail a Heavenly Trial against Reverend of Empty Words?

The three are forced to dig and end up at Quan Yizhen’s palace with Pei Ming behind them

Pei Ming: QYZ, help me out and capture them

QYZ: *sees Xie Lian and remembers what he did for him during the Lantern Festival* - Grabs bed and throws it at Pei Ming- YEET!

Xie Lian tosses dice and the three end up at Puqi Shrine again. Xie Lian is greeted to the sight of a shirtless Hua Cheng finishing up some labour work with using E-Ming.

- Me: Is this going to be Xie Lian’s gay awakening? Will he finally acknowledge he has feelings for Hua Cheng?

Xie Lian immediately calms down and gets back into action

- Me: dang it!

The group, now with Hua Cheng, teleports to the Rain Master’s land. They exchange what they know and Xie Lian is drawing a very terrifying conclusion.

- Me: So, if there was a chart of the four famous tales compared to the four great calamities based on comparing their authenticity of tales

- Xie Lian Hua Cheng (They have to match somewhat)

- Princess who slit her throat White No-Face (Both have very little knowledge and seem very much bamf)

- General who broke his sword Black Water (Just vibes based on their names)

- Shi Qingxuan Qi Rong (Don’t really match the others, but are famous enough to get on the list)

Xie Lian connects the dots on Scholar He's name

- is that even possible?

Pei Ming arrives and then the group moves to Shi Wudu’s Heavenly Trial ground cause mortals are in danger. Their mission is to help the mortals and not get in the way of Water Master.

Hua Cheng changes into a fisherman outfit

Xie Lian and Hua Cheng share a tender moment with a steam bun. General Pei watches them

- Me: Oh? Pei Ming, what did you notice? Did you notice the potential ship between the two of them?

118: The ship somehow wandered into the Ship-Sinking Black Water’s territory.

- Me: Oh no. The drama.

--------

Alright, here seems good. The next part will be the Wind & Water Master Arc pt 2 (?). At least I think so since the Wind part was discovered and now it’s the Water part that’s next.

You know, I really wanted to comment on a bunch of other stuff. Especially the Hualian moments, but decided against it cause there are some things that should be read

#sunmay rambles #sunmay reads tgcf #sunmay reads tian guan cifu #sunmay reads heaven official's blessing #sunmay reads hob #tgcf #hob #tian guan ci fu #heaven official's blessing #hob spoiler #tgcf spoiler #book 3 spoilers #halfway through the wind and water master arc

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tuff-and-fluff-archives · 4 years

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Okay I am hyperfixating HARD on Tom and Jerry and all my emotions from childhood have FLOODED forth, so now that I’ve finished watching (almost) all 161 original theatrical Tom and Jerry shorts from 1940 to 1967, I would like to force you all to endure my insane ramblings about this franchise. Although before I begin, I’d like to share where I’ve been watching all these! Here’s a Dailymotion playlist of all 161 shorts, put into the correct order by yours truly :3 OKAY NOW THE INSANITY BEGINS 💖💖💖

1) The Messy Formative Years: Shorts 001-017 (1940-1944)

So obviously, when a series is first created, especially an animated series, the first few episodes will always be a bit odd as the directors and writers find their footing and establish the rules of their own universe, and Tom and Jerry is no exception! In fact, these episodes can be a bit weird and even jarring to watch because the designs of the titular characters are so drastically different from how they look even ten years afterwards. In fact, in the very first episode, they don’t even have their official names yet and are instead named “Jasper and Jinx.” Also, there’s a LOT of talking in these beginning shorts before they decided to make Tom and Jerry almost entirely mute. Shorts 010 and 013 stand out the most, as they feature characters regularly speaking full sentences and it’s just... ohhh it’s SO weird to watch and it feels almost wrong 😅 Of course that’s not to say these shorts are bad, far from it actually! They’re still super fun and fascinating to watch and I think it’s quite interesting to see how such an iconic franchise got its start!

2) The Golden Years: Shorts 018-097 (1945-1955)

Oh. My. GOD. THESE ARE THE ABSOLUTE BEST. I guarantee that when you just think about Tom and Jerry, THESE are the shorts that come to mind. By now William Hanna & Joseph Barbara fully had their formula down and were just pumping out hit after hit afTER HIT HHHHH I LOVE THESE SO MUCH. I’m not kidding when I say that these shorts still make me laugh really hard and I absolutely adore nearly every aspect of them: the fluid and extremely expressive animation, the excellently timed music paired with each short, and the humor that’s constant and lands almost every time. My absolute favorite ones are around 040-080 but really all of these are just sooooo good. I know that this is stating the obvious but one thing that I especially love is just how VIOLENT these cartoons are, even more than the Looney Tunes shorts that were coming out at the same time. Characters are constantly picking up knives or axes or straight up GUNS and ngl I feel like half of the humor comes from that shock factor of the insane absurdity of that violence. Okay I’m starting to sound rly dumb, I know explaining the joke is never fun, but the directing and animation just NAILS every joke; I think the secret behind it is that there’s always a buildup and anticipation before the impact, and that buildup just makes the impact all the more intense! I was going to list my top 5 favorites but it’s impossible to choose so lemme just recommend a random five out of all of them: 026 - Solid Serenade, 048 - Saturday Evening Puss, 067 - Triplet Trouble, 069 - Fit to Be Tied, and 076 - That’s My Pup!

Also, I don’t know where else to mention this so I’ll just say it here: there’s a gradual change that Tom’s design goes through where he’s slowly drawn to be less and less fuzzy. At first his outline was drawn with a lot of points to emphasize his fur, but over time they abandoned doing that, my guess is because it was harder to animate. I’d say that they fully transitioned to Smooth Tom around short 030. That’s just a little detail I noticed and wanted to share! ^-^

3) The Slow Decay: Shorts 098-114 (1956-1958)

*heavy sigh* Well... a good thing can’t last forever. What’s kinda strange is that I can’t really nail down a specific reason caused a decline in quality after 1955; short 096 was the last to be produced by Fred Quimby, with Hanna & Barbara being given the producer credit as well as director credit for the remaining 18 shorts, and MGM animation studios had major budget cuts in the late 50′s and was shut down in 1957, and perhaps the studio shutting down had also taken the joy out of the crew, which would certainly have an effect on the cartoons. Now that doesn’t mean that these last 16 shorts are bad- they’re still quite entertaining, but they just don’t have the same energy as the shorts made in the Golden Years. They’re also nowhere near as cartoonishly violent as the past shorts had been; weapons are almost never used anymore and there are barely any efforts from Tom and Jerry to straight up kill each other, and more often than not they’re working together and even acting like close friends. I think that’s pretty fair evidence that even if these later shorts were much tamer and friendlier, that meant that they were lacking the same chaotic energy that made the other shorts so hilarious.

Also I just need to vent this here cuz this era also contains the two most absolutely infuriating shorts in the Hanna-Barbera era, that being 100 - Busy Buddies and 114 - Tot Watchers. These two shorts consist of Tom and Jerry attempting to stop a baby from accidentally dying cuz it’s just a dumb baby that doesn’t know anything, while the babysitter is just totally ignorant to everything happening. Now I can’t quite explain why and I’m probably just making myself look like an asshole but these shorts are just... so frustrating to me??? Like its bad enough that this stupid baby whose face NEVER changes from that stupid little smile just keeps wandering into dangerous situations (in Tot Watchers it straight up crawls into a CONSTRUCTION ZONE) but every time Tom rescues the little bastard and puts it back in its crib, the babysitter thinks he’s “bothering” the baby (probably because of that one myth about cats laying on babies and stealing their breath) and so poor Tom is just punished for doing literally nothing wrong!! It’s just... very frustrating to me for some reason I’m sorry... (Although I have to admit that it is interesting and kinda cute that Tom knows how to change a diaper, like wif the safety pins and everything. Why does he know that...?)

4) The Gene Deitch Shit Shorts: 115-127 (1961-1962)

OOOH BOY. I don’t think... that I can really describe how purely and utterly I dislike the Deitch shorts. Okay so, to explain, in 1961 MGM decided they wanted to revive the Tom and Jerry franchise, so they contracted an animation studio based in Czechoslovakia to create 13 new original shorts. All of these shorts were directed by Gene Deitch, who before being commissioned for these cartoons, was open about his disdain for the original Hanna-Barbera shorts that he described as “needlessly violent.” After he was assigned to the series, he did come around to somewhat realize that the violence was intended to be overly cartoonish and humorous, but his initial opinion still had an influence on his directing decisions. In addition to these facts, the foreign team behind this series had only collectively seen a handful of the original cartoons, and each short was given a budget of only $10,000, compared to the $50,000 that the Hanna-Barbera shorts had all been given.

SO. To recap, these 13 new shorts were being made by a foreign team who had barely seen any of the source material, directed by a man who had disliked the original cartoons, and being made on 1/5 of the budget that the Hanna-Barbera shorts were given. Needless to say, the end results were a DISASTER. I’m not kidding when I say that watching these shorts feels almost like a fever dream with how completely baffling and surreal they are. I honestly don’t think they could be any more different from the original series; the music and sound effects are extremely minimalist and usually completely absent, the animation is so jerky and totally lacking the fluidity of the originals, and the character design is also drastically different and, in my opinion, kinda ugly too. These are universally considered to be the worst of the theatrical shorts, and Deitch himself has even stated that he and his team “hardly had a chance to succeed” and he fully understands the negativity directed towards the shorts he directed. I have to confess that when I rewatched all the theatrical shorts, I only got through two of these before outright skipping the rest of them. These 13 shorts are a complete disgrace to the majesty of the Hanna-Barbera series, and while I don’t hold anything against the people behind them, I can’t lie when I say that I hate these shorts.

5) The Chuck Jones Era: 128-161 (1963-1967)

I have an odd love-hate relationship with these shorts. I don’t think I need to explain to you the legacy of the great Chuck Jones, the creator of Marvin the Martian, Pepe Le Pew, and the Roadrunner and Wile E. Coyote whose name is nearly synonymous with the Looney Tunes cartoons of the 30′s, 40′s, and 50′s. He’s an absolute legend in the animation industry, and yet... the Tom and Jerry shorts that he directed are still significantly weaker than the original series. Let me start with the things I like though! The slight changes in the character design to match Chuck Jones’ signature style are super appealing (I especially like how at times, Tom will almost resemble Jones’ design for the Grinch) and the animation is of course very well done and a joy to watch, but despite these positives, the humor is sadly lacking. There are still quite a few jokes that land, but they’re more restrained and just don’t have the same high-energy oomph! of the impactful gunshot sound effects and violent screams of the original cartoon. I’ll always have an appreciation for this era of shorts and the man behind them, but they sadly didn’t even come halfway close to the Hanna-Barbera series.

WELL. ANYWAY, THAT’S MY RANT!!! Thanks for reading this far, all two people that did. It just felt good to get this outta my system! 💖💖

#long post #💜: you're the cat's meow!#ruby rambles #i implore you i am begging you PLEASE interact wif this post #legit it will make me SO happy if someone leaves a little comment or ask for me and a reblog would actually kill me 💘💘#JUST PLEASE TALK TO ME ABOUT THE CARTOON I LOVE IT SM #maybe if people wanna talk about their favorite episodes and stuff!!! im more than willing to respond!!!#i just have so much to say im sorry jhfsjhd 🥺🥺🥺

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thetarasovprincess · 4 years

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((This is a story we’ve been creating with a roleplayer that I estimate a lot who is @f0rtis-fortuna-adiuvat . Now @champagne-with-words (another bean I adore) is going to take care of that blog so we’ll continue the thread from here. ))

Irina:

Irina is in the bedroom with her best friend and her boyfriend. Legs crossed, looking outside the window, not interested at all in the conversation in which she is supposed to be involved. She is just fixed in the movements the men of the house are doing, conscious that this is the day when she is going to have what she nicknamed “a babysitter”. But her father, Viggo Tarasov, insisted on it and Irina knows that when her father says something, it´s better not to contradict him, even though she is a bit more of a brat than her brother Iosef, just because she is her father´s weakness, but despite her attempts to manipulate him, he had the last word.

“Irina” -calls her friend to catch her attention- “Are you with us?”

“Sure” -she replies but keeps her eyes on the window watching a new car park outside which causes her friend to roll her eyes.

A man gets out of the car. He is tall, with medium-length black hair and, of course, he is wearing a suit, they are always wearing boring suits.

“Irina!” - Viggo´s voice comes from downstairs - “Come here!”

She looks at her friend and boyfriend. “So I guess it´s time to meet The Man”.

Her friend chuckles. “Make things easy for him, the last one couldn´t stand you anymore after a month”.

John:

Mr wick, it’s always a pleasure.” Viggo said in his thick Russian accent, a smile on his face as he shakes the ex marines hand.

“Good to see you again. You’re looking well.” John mused, eyeing his extravagant suit and expensive cigar in his hand. The man chuckled.

“All Thanks to you, my friend.” He takes a puff from his cigar, blowing it away from John. The Baba Yaga watched and waited for his instructions. He knew a vague amount of details about why he was summoned by viggo, but he came anyway. The man was a member of the high table; John wasn’t stupid enough to ignore his beckon. He valued his life…

“Come in, John. Come in.” Viggo ushered John into the foyer of the exquisite mansion built by foreign hands a decade ago. Johns posture was taut, feeling led to the slaughter as a lamb. His instincts told him to flee while he could. He knew not of the purpose to this meeting, and John was beginning to wonder if he wanted to. Iosef strode in, phone in hand. He raised a cocky brow to the pair.

“Father,” he greeted Viggo.

“Son, this is John Wick, a very good and old friend of mine. I trust you will speak to him with the same respect you show me.” Viggo warned, eyes cold and unwavering. Iosef nodded.

“Nice to meet you, mr wick.” He said. The boy was arrogant but also too afraid to cross his father.

Irina:

“So.. John, first of all, I really appreciate having you here. I know I gave you rushed details but I wanted to explain the task in person because this may be the most important job you could ever do for me. You know that when it comes to our loved ones, money is never a problem, so I´m willing to pay a fair amount for one of my most trustful men” Viggo takes another puff and scratch his beard with his free hand. “Iosef and I are flying to Shenzhen tomorrow. It has come to my ears that a respectable head-member of a chinese mob who is involved with gun trafficking wants to do business with us. But you know I don´t trust in anyone´s reputation until I see it with my own eyes”. Iosef chuckles lightly but Viggo notices it and looks at him with fire eyes which causes him to instantly look down a make a step backwards. “The thing is I need someone to keep an eye on my princess as usual. This is a men world, and she is a young fresh girl who has almost nothing to do with this but suffers the consequences of her father´s business and I don´t want anyone making her a way to extort me in their benefit, you see what I mean?” Viggo looks at John in the eyes. It´s clear the concern the man has about leaving her daughter alone, not that he has not done this before but the single thought of someone hurting Irina is enough for him to want to isolate her from the world even though he knows he cannot do that. Viggo looks at Iosef one more time and as if he doesn´t want the boy to hear them, he puts his hand on John´s shoulder to make the conversation more intimate. “I know this is not common for you. But I trust that you are the only one who won´t fail me. Irina is a little… temperamental. She may have inherited it from her mother. The two bodyguards she had before couldn´t handle her and I had to change my plans because of that and come back sooner than expected. I don´t want that again, John.”

Viggo turned around at a noise on the stairs. Irina is on the last step. The length of her blonde hair falls gracefully on her bony chest. The black eyeliner makes her green eyes pop out, shiny and similar in colour to her father´s ones. She is looking at her father with a not so pleased expression.

“And there she is. Irina, my sweet girl, this is John Wick, a very good friend of mine” Viggo repeats the phrase but everybody could tell he is not using the same severe tone he always use when talking to Iosef.

Irina turns her head to look at the man with a mocking smirk. “Hi, Mr. Wick”.

John:

John looked confused at viggo, raising an eyebrow.

“You want me to…babysit your daughter?” He looked to the wealthy man, resisting a laugh. “Why can’t you get one of your many men to do this?” This struck John as odd, he wasn’t one to ‘babysit’. He was an assassin, and that was it. He didn’t protect people. He killed them. Still, the Russian held a straight face, shrugging as he embraced his daughter.

“John, you are one of the strongest and greatest men alive. I can’t trust these people to watch over my daughter. She’s my blood! You-you are the hands that I’d put my very world in…my daughter.”

Iosef rolled his eyes, removing himself from the room to go pack. John looked his way feeling almost an ounce of pity for him. To hear your own father say that his world consisted of his sister must have been hard. It would make sense why he was an incompetent little bitch who didn’t give a shit about anyone or anything. A spoiled brat…wanting attention.

John eyes viggo warily, knowing there was no way to deny him.

“Very well. I will protect your daughter. No harm will come to her while you are away.” John shook his hand, signifying the closing of a deal. John has sold his soul to him…and if his daughter was harmed it’d be his head next. His eyes flicked to irina, looking her up and down. She was small, but already John could tell she was just as spoiled as iosef, maybe even more. God, he hated her type.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Tarasov.” John said respectfully, nodding his head to her.

Irina:

After responding falsely to the head nodding, Irina starts walking upstairs back to her room. “You want me to babysit your daughter?”, John´s words resound in her mind, step by step. What does he think I am? A fucking baby? Now the nickname she had created doesn´t seem fun at all when used towards her.

Irina opens the door and sees the two people inside, close to each other. You are always wanting to put your hands on him, don´t you? Irina thinks but bites her tongue to not say anything.

“Get the fuck out of here, I want to be alone”, she says in her typical disgusting commanding way.

“But, Irina…”

“Didn´t you hear me? I want to be alone, get out!” she barks and instantly her friend and boyfriend move quickly to exit the room. Despite her anger, she smiles: the people who sorround her are always compliant to her, fearful to go against her will, maybe because of her father (he doesn´t even need to speak to be intimidating enough) or maybe because when she is in a bad bitch mood, they all run away with their tails between their legs. Let´s see how much you can stand me, Mr. John Wick.

–

It´s 10 am. Irina wakes up and starts doing her make-up. Despite having a maid, she always manages to make a mess in her room as soon as she gets up, opening her wardrobe and throwing clothes around till she finally picks an outfit that convinces her. Even though she is untidy, her eyeliner is always on point as well as her hair, taking pride on how the work on her appearance enhances her natural beauty.

Once downstairs, still a bit sleepy, she goes straight to the kitchen.

She is looking inside the fridge when suddenly, she turns around and the sight of John sitting quiet makes her jump and gasp at the surprise. “Oh my fucking god, you scared me! Don´t you even make a sound so people can notice your presence?” Irina examines the table: there´s a bowl of cereal and a package of milk. She turns around again and takes a slice of pizza from inside the fridge, of the delivery of the night before. Once the fridge door is closed, Irina looks at John and opens her mouth to take a bite from the slice, almost greedily, as if she is making fun of his healthy breakfast. “My piano teacher is coming in an hour”, she says, still on her feet, not wanting to share the table. “I supposed I should let you know”.

John:

John raises an eyebrow, standing as she talked. He took the pizza from her hand, and he threw it away. Then he placed a bowl in front of her, handing her the cereal box.

“Eat.” He said in a demanding tone, taking his empty bowl tot he sink. He washed it out before putting it away. He noticed that there wee no dishes in the sink. It struck him odd till a maid came rushing through, busing herself by getting a broom from the closet. That made more sense; Irina didn’t seem the type to do any kind of labor.

“I have some things to do. Don’t leave the house.” John wasn’t happy either that he had to babysit her all day. He definitely didn’t enjoy sleeping in their house. His freedom was stripped away from him as much as hers was.

He chose to ignore his pettiness, checking the grounds and clearing the perimeter. This took less than half an hour. He was quick on his feet. The guards that were assigned to help him struggled to stay with his pace…and they were half his age.

He had to admit that the tarasov mansion was absolutely exquisite. Hundreds of workers slaved tirelessly to make their property and house the way it looked: pristine and perfect. Viggo was a man of money, sparing no expenses for his family. Mostly his daughter, a spitting image of the late mrs tarasov. Iosef, although his heir to the table, was anything from his favorite. For some reason, viggo despised his oldest child.

Irina:

Irina´s mouth falls open. Not a single one of the workers that were at the family service has ever dared to do something similar, even if it was about an insignificant slice of pizza. But at the same time, the surprise and the sight of John not caring about what she has to say, made her sit on the chair and grab the bowl, not eating yet, just waiting for him to leave the kitchen. Once he does, she takes a spoonful of the cereal she has served in it, her eyes fixed on the opposite wall, the texture of the cornflakes getting stuck in between her teeth due to the pressure her molars are doing.

An hour later, the piano teacher arrives. Due to his age, he is a bit slow, what usually makes the impatient woman roll her eyes; but when she gets to play the instrument, something magical seems to happen in her, an angelic-like transformation. It sure is a sight to see, music calms the savage beast, and this beast plays it wonderfully, delighting herself in the moment she has to close her eyes and forget about the world, with the slight swing of her head to the beat of the musical notes.

–

But the calmness doesn´t last long, specially when the teacher leaves and she is now alone and bored with time to think about the freedom she has with no babysitter around. “Don´t leave the house”, John´s words resound in her head. “Let´s see what you´re gonna do when you come back and I´m not here”, she whispers to herself. Irina textes her boyfriend, who is more like a puppy than boyfriend, and as expected, he arrives fast in his motorcycle. She can hear the sound of the engine outside and she goes straight ahead to the front door. One of the security men interposes in her way.

“I´m sorry, Miss Tarasov, I can´t let you go out”, he says.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”.

“Mr. Wick´s orders”.

“Listen you idiot, is Mr John Wick your boss? Cause as far as I understand, my father is your boss and if you don´t let me out in this moment, I´d gladly tell him to kick your ass”.

The man hesitates, not able to respond, afraid of Viggo´s reaction if his daughter lets him know about an unpleasent situation. Finally, he steps aside and Irina leaves.

–

They´ve been spending the afternoon in ´Sweet delight´, a fancy but quiet bar in the center of the city where Irina has been resting her head on her fist and playing with the spoon in her coffee, a notorious reflection of her boredom. Her boyfriend has noticed it and has asked multiple times if everything was okay, her response was always the same: “Sure”, with no effort in showing any enthusiasm, to the point that she started to think if the purpose of the date was to just tease John.

Suddenly, Irina sees a reflection of a familiar car parking outside. Feeling the rush of adrenaline starting to grow and getting her out of the zombie state, she abruptly takes her boyfriend´s hand and practically pulls him towards the exit. The boy doesn´t have a single clue of what is happening but he is glad they had payed before or else the people of the bar would make a scandal.

They reach the motorcycle outside, Irina struggling to put on the helmet and when she finally makes it, she says to her lost boyfriend: “Accelerate. Accelerate and don´t you fucking stop”.

“Oh, no, is he behind us? What´s the problem with this guy?”.

“Shut up and keep driving!”,

John:

Anger. The purest form.

Anger towards irina. Anger towards this guard that just told him he let her go.

“What the fuck did I tell you?” John raged, shorter than the guard, but the guard was afraid nonetheless. He visible shook, stammering as he answered.

“She…she told me to let her go.”

“So? I told you to keep her in the goddamn house.”

“I’m sorry…” he whimpered. John hadn’t even touched him. He was scared shitless.

“Get out of my fucking sight. You’re fired.” He snarled, pushing him out of the doorway as he grabbed the keys of an expensive car.

“You can’t…you can’t fire me.” He said with a shaking tone. John stopped, turned and stared at him with a burning gaze.

“I just did. Get. The. Fuck. Out. Before I fucking end you!”

That put him into action, disappearing as fast as light. John growled as he slammed the door of the Dodge Charger, swearing to kill irina when he finds her. He took out the work phone her father gave him. It held a tracker that synced to her phone.

“She is known to cause trouble and escape from her guards. This is to find her if that happens.”

John placed it to follow her directions, speed limit being broken significantly. The trees and cars blurred past him. He would make a fool out of her for this. He knew he couldn’t simply yell at her. She wouldn’t care. But embarrassing her in front of people would get her attention. John wasn’t taking this shit. His career was on the line.

Irina:

The wind blows fiercely against Irina´s bare arms due to the speed of the motorcycle. She wants to turn around and check if the Dodge Charger is still behind them but just moving her head makes her dizzy and she is starting to get too scared to make abrupt movements on the vehicle. But being the stubborn she is, she doesn´t say a word about it, just closing her eyes tightly and praying for her boyfriend to watch out every damn car they pass in between.

Minutes later, she opens her eyes at the abruptly decreasing of speed and she finds they are stopping in an empty alley. Irina smacks her boyfriend´s shoulder and is fast to get back on the ground.

“What are you doing?!”, she yells at him, taking off her helmet.

“I lost him, okay?”, he replies doing the same, “I thought we needed to stop for a second”.

“Coward”, she says annoyed, looking around to not make eye-contact and show how scared she was too. There is a big dumpster and some garbage bags next to it with flies around them. “How romantic”.

Her boyfriend gets off the motorcycle and walks towards her. “Well, I know it´s not an ideal place but since I was like your knight in shining armour, can I get a kiss?”

“Shut up, asshole”, Irina pushes his chest.

“Oh, come on, Irina! You´ve been like a zombie all day”, he insists again and this time just directly grabs her arms to hold her in place and kiss her. She doesn´t squirm but keeps her eyes open, not too interested in the kiss and worried about some possibly near John Wick.

John:

“I suggest you get the fuck away from her.” A low growl was heard. Her boyfriend startled, jumping back and biting her lip accidentally. He glared at the tall man, wiping his mouth.

“Who the fuck are you? Why do you keep following her ya fuckin perv?” He back up though his words tried defending his fear. John stopped in front of him, eyeing him. He could break his neck with one motion.

“John wick. Her assigned protector. And you are violating the commands given. So I suggest you leave. Before I make you leave. In pieces.” His eerie tone bounced off the alley walls, haunting them.

“See ya, rina…” he boyfriend glared at John, starting his bike and racing off.

John stared down irina, silent. He hadn’t moved an inch, his eyes piercing coldly through her. He had blocked her from the road, his car removing the lights. Only a dim lamp lit his features, a dark shadow cast across his face.

Irina:

Irina watches the boy leave, not disappointed at how much of a coward he was because she expected it, but still incensed at how he left her in that alley, surrounded by garbage and with John alone. John… oh shit. Irina comes back to reality, the way he exhales air sending a shiver down her spine. There is a minimal second when her facial features seem to drop as she swallows with strength but she immediately tries to get back her cocky posture, forcing a laugh that comes out as a nervous giggle.

“What?”, she asks, with a shoulder gesture. Although she is looking directly into his cold eyes, she has already scanned the place for a way to run if necessary: there is none, “You´re gonna lecture me?”

Wanting to get away from his intense gaze, she starts walking to the car. “Let´s be honest. I can´t stand you and I know you can´t stand me. But you can´t keep an eye on me 24 hours a day and I will take advantage of it. That´s just how it is”.

John:

He stopped her before she reached the door handle, pulling her arm. He shoved her against the brick wall behind them, not hard but enough to show he wasn’t joking.

“Listen to me, Irina Tarasov.” He deadpans, growling close to her face. “I don’t give a fuck about how you act when you’re not in my care. You can go back to your bratty spoiled ass lifestyle once your father returns. But now you are in MY care. I am responsible for you. So that means you will listen to me. Do you hear me? You will do exactly as I say or so help me god I will become your shadow. I will sleep on the floor of your room if I have to.” He paused, sighing. “This May be hard to believe sweetheart, but the world doesn’t fucking revolve around you. This is my job you are messing with. My reputation. You cost a man his job today. That’s on you. Stop acting like a spoiled little bitch and start acting your age!” He raised an eyebrow, daring her to respond.

He moved, slamming the car door behind him as he got in the drivers side. He barely waited for her to get in as he drove off, Speed limit be damned. A wall seemed to be built between them as he ignored her. God, he was so angry. His knuckles were white, gripping the wheel. If he hadn’t of known the streets of New York and the traffic, he would have wrecked. He did though, weaving through back streets to ignore the rush hour.

Irina:

Her jaw drops. The beating of her heart pounds in her ears, in her head, she can even feel the blood flowing in her veins while John speaks. It almost seems like she is trapped by a lion, a very angry lion who she just stepped on his already hurt paw to make him explode. But at the same time, it also feels as if John is throwing a bucket of ice cold water at her, showing the woman one more time that he is not like the other bodyguards she has dealt so easily with before.

Despite her silence once in the car, she is angry too, frustrated; having no words to confront him and knowing that it wouldn´t be wise makes Irina just mad at the sudden shake of her spoiled world. She stays frozen in the car seat, watching his white knuckles, biting her bottom lip so hard she can taste blood.

Once in the house, she quickly makes her way upstairs. Walking from one side of the bedroom to the other, she finally decides to sit on her bed and grab her phone from the bag. She dials Viggo´s number, ready to confront him like a child who was sent to bed with no candy after dinner.

Everybody downstairs can hear the way she whines “Dad, when are you coming back? What?! You need more time?!”, she yells. “He needs to be fired. No, dad, listen to me, he is fucking limiting my freedom. No, no! I cannot wait for you to come here. I want him out. No, you don´t understand… What? That you are tired? What the fuck are you saying? Dad? FATHER?!”.

But Viggo ends the conversation and the last phrases are talked to nobody. Irina´s hands shake. She looks at the phone before throwing it against the opposite wall. Then she grabs a pillow and putting it close to her face, she screams, suffocating the sound in it. She repeats the action again and again till her throat hurts and her body becomes tired.

–

Two hours later, she opens her eyes, realizing she has fell asleep. It must be around 11 pm. She needs a distraction but of course she is not calling the coward boyfriend. She gets up and picks up her phone. It´s still functioning but the glass cover has a broken line mark. Irina opens the closet and takes the first dress she sees, this time not too interested in how she looks, wanting to leave the house as soon as possible.

She goes downstairs, only to find John there. “We´re going out”, she says, almost as if she is seeking permission in the way she looks at him. “Red Circle”.

John:

The cool, fresh air does away with most of his anger, leaving him in a better mood than when he exited the car. The guard is no where to be seen, evacuated from the house permanently. All other guards are stood at attention, afraid of becoming the next to disrupt the baba Gaga’s mood. Word spread, they were afraid. This job, although horrid, paid well. None of them wished to be jobless… it was tough to find jobs in the underground. It was tough to stay alive in the underground. At least working for viggo and watching his irritating daughter meant they were known and secured for the most part. Barely anyone attempted to fuck with the Russian crime lord and the seventh seat to the high table.

“Mr wick, good to hear from you.” The russian accent speaks through johns phone. He doesn’t answer, waiting for him to continue.

“You seem to have my darling irina in a fuss. She is saying you are worthy of being fired. I know she can be a tad dramatic at times so I wanted to hear your side of this problem. And I heard you fired my protection…” The man was sitting in a grand leather chair, puffing away at a Turkish cigar. His son was off somewhere with some woman, maybe more, doing god knows what. He frankly didn’t care.

“Your daughter persuaded the ‘protection’ to let her out of my sight as I was securing the grounds. She then snuck off with her ‘boyfriend’.” John said simply, needing no explanation. She wouldn’t be fired. Viggo wasn’t that stupid. John could single handedly protect his daughter while blindfolded. He was indeed the Baba Yaga.

“I see…I’ll see to it that the man is taken care of.”

John kept his voice passive as he confirmed irina safety, the mention of the guard not fazing him. He thought it was coming, his death. Viggo would have his head for allowing his daughter into danger. No matter if she was harmed or not. He was setting a line, telling his other employees that this too would happen to them. He would not fuck around. The call ended quickly after checking up, John moving tot he kitchen to the get a glass of water. He finds himself a book, reclining in the old leather chair that sat in the living room. He had men stand outside her door to ensure her safety, checking on her himself hourly. Then he was interrupted, the book left marked as he stood to address her. Something was different. Her words showed annoyance but her expression showed…was it respect? A smiled almost appeared on his lips as he nodded, not wanting to cause attention to it or she would lash out. He would allow her to resume her bratty facade, leaving him to wonder if maybe she wasn’t actually such a spoiled child and maybe, just maybe she was tolerable.

The door is opened by him for her, following her then out to the car that they had just left angrily hours earlier. He commanded that a dozen men follow, dressed casually to not alert suspicion. Although many underground assassins worked there, regular people also partied at the red circle seeking drugs, sex, and alcohol. The russian club held a dark secret inside its doors, offering the luxurious items but also catering to an assassins needs in the basement below. Special rooms were set up as well, some holding beds and some holding whips and other torture devices. Only sometimes were they used outside of the sexual realms.

They were easily given free entrance, the bouncer bowing to the Russian princess. After all, she practically owned this place. Her father was a main patron to the wealth of the establishment, meaning he decided whether or not the place stood and ran well or plummeted and failed.

Irina:

Irina doesn´t even say a word on the way to Red Circle, just looking outside the window, watching other security men cars surrounding them. It is like a escorted carriage, an image that ressembles well the treatment she is used to recieve. That´s why when people bow to her, she simply ignores it, sometimes wishing she could have a normal life, not because she doesn´t enjoy people fear at her but because their fear comes from her father and not for who she is, only being left to be seen as a doll or a princess who shall not be touched.

The music becomes louder and louder as she gets further in but she still can´t get rid of the dangerous rottweiler behind her footsteps. She had to be respectful to get him here but she is still frustrated at how he has talked to her and how his father has simply stopped listening to her complains.

Despite that, when the scenario changes and lots of people are dancing in front of her eyes to a magnetic trap music, it seems to be exactly what she needs to put her thoughts away It´s not hard for her to find people she knows but this is not the place for starting a conversation and neither is she in the mood to do so.

Eventually, she asks for a drink, a delicious burning taste of strawberry with vodka, one of her favourites, but she knows John is going to keep track of what she consumes. God, she can even feel his eyes on the back of her neck. That´s the reason she starts to smile to the friends she met, getting to drink from their own beverages from time to time to hide it from his gaze. And it has a nice sooothing efect as well as a slightly dizzy one; her movements getting cheekier.

The song changes and a remix version of “Think” by Kaleida starts to play. With her eyes fixed on John´s and one of her friend´s drink in her hand, not remembering to hide it anymore, she moves her hips to the rhythm, sipping from the daiquiri straw, the whole painting emanating seduction, till one man approaches her.

Irina starts to feel uncomfortable, she wants to push him away but at the same time, she knows the party will be over if she does so, Wick would make her leave. Gently, Irina tells him to leave her alone, but the man doesn´t go away. Instead, he is cornering her towards a wall, slowly isolating her from her friends. Too foggy to dodge him, she insists on not being interested but his hand goes to her chest and in the nervousness she starts to giggle, even though a conscious part of her is searching for John.

John:

People parted like the Red Sea when John moved, his dark eyes enough to scare them into submission. That was his job, scare people. To scare them into leaving his charge alone. His eyes carefully calculated every exit while he watched the people around him do all but fuck each other. Most were people in their early twenties, having had too much stimulation from the underground. They weren’t accustomed to that much blood. But they had to suck it up, grow a pair, and move on. So they did. Then they came to places like these to get wasted and fuck around. A safe place if you will. Many of these people had issues submission, wanting to be dominated. So the red circle provided special room with dominators and dominatrixes especially for that reason. To give them release. Assassins had to be hard all the time, never backing down, never cowardly. They always had to have control. Except in those secluded rooms… they could give in, be taken care of. Repent for their sins. They enjoyed it. Oh, they loved it. Craved it.

This was the truth of the underground. Insecure people rising to power and pretending they have their shit together.

Then there were simply normal drunk horny young men and women, looking for a good lay. John held very little respect for them. He could understand the need to let go. Hell, he needed to let go of toms of shit. But he couldn’t… that was the sad tragedy of Jonathan wick.

No alcohol on the job, he was the most sober person in the club, a headache creeping into his skull from the pounding music. It throbbed against his head, bursting his eardrums. Maybe he was just old…but how could people enjoy this trashy music? What ever happened to the music with words? Now it was just the same string of six beats arranged by hundreds of ‘artists’.

The man reminded him of a weasel or ferret, a nervous skittishness about him, arrogant confidence making him revolting. The kind of man that didn’t know when no meant fucking ‘no’. Whether or not he was part of the underground, he was too close to irina. And clearly she wasn’t amused. God, men were pigs. He grabbed his shoulder, pulling him off her, eyes stabbing him into the chest with fear.

“What the fuck, man?!” The young idiot, clearly not from their world or else he would have respected the Baba Yaga, quickly replaces his fear for faux confidence, straightening out his tacky blazer, a thirty dollar shirt he purchased from urban outfitters. John couldn’t help but laugh, straightening his two thousand dollar suit.

“Get out of here.” John said gruffly. The man sized him up, puffing out his chest. John sighed. “I said, get the fuck out of here.”

He didn’t move, pushing John away from him. John, taking irinas arm gently, pushed her through the sea of people. He motioned to Harry and Mark to take care of the weasel, guiding irina through the crowd. He stopped once she could hear him, addressing her eyes with his gaze.

“Are you alright?”

His phone dinged, a message confirming that the target was taken care of, no longer in the bar. She was swaying, clearly wasted. He grabbed her chin, checking her eyes that could barely focus on his.

“Lets Go. You’ve had enough tonight.” He didn’t give her the chance to refuse, helping her outside. Despite her whining, he got her into the car, buckled safely.

Irina:

While John guides her to the car, Irina keeps looking at the club, wanting to insist on staying there but what she thinks are coherent words results in little whines. She can barely see the whole image of his face but the foggy vision is still funnier in her state because she can fantasize with him smiling under those fire eyes.

“You know what?”, she says once John is putting her on the car seat. ”You´d look so beautiful if you smile. Just a little. Has someone ever taken you a photo? Smiling is what you do when that happens”. Irina forces a big smile and her eyes stay focused on nothing for a few seconds. But when the car door closes and John is in the driver seat, the effect of all the drinks are still going on and she starts poking his cheek while they leave the streets behind. “I know it´s there. Come on, just give me one, you sexy man”, her tone clearly of a drunk person between giggles.

Seeing she is not getting the result she wants, she lets her back fall heavy on the backrest, her smooth hair now all messy between her eyes. She tries to put it away from her vision to watch outside the window. Building, building, building; traffic light, traffic light, traffic light. Waves of dizziness dancing in her brain send powerful vibrations to her stomach.

“John…”, she whispers, her eyes rolling to the back of her head. “Why is everything so shiny?”. Abruptly, a disgusting impulse makes her move forward and puke on the car floor, acid leaving her system and running wildly along her esophagus. “Oh god”, she keeps giggling hysterically, not understanding the situation with her forehead painfully resting on the glove compartment until she finds the stereo next to her cheek. With non-precise fingers she turns on the radio, Glue by Sean Paul sounding at the moment. If it weren´t for her mental state, she wouldn´t find that music enthusiastic enough, being more a fan of the electronic music played at Red Circle. But she turns on the volume in a second till it´s as loud as back in the club and takes of her dress, dancing like a wiggling chicken in the seat, not aware anymore of the world around her.

John:

John kept his glances to a minimum as he checked on Irina, pushing away her hands and barking for her to sit still. He’s not angry but more frustrated. He didn’t have kids, and had no idea how to deal with a toddler. He and Helen had spoke about kids but he was still in the underground and decided against it. Then by the time he had gotten out…she had grown ill.

He’s brought out of his thoughts by her loud wrenching, sighing heavily as she empties her stomachs contents in his car. The smell is quick to fill his nostrils, growling slightly as he swallows a gag. Again he’s blindsided by her actions, ears ringing and brows furrowing.

Fuck.

“Irina!” He exhausted, turning the music down and blocking the dials until she gave up the fight to turn the volume back up. He shook his head, mumbling something incoherent to the world around him, hands gripping the steering wheel harshly.

He finally pulled into the driveway, parking the car and sliding out. His jacket is removed quickly, placing it around her shoulders as he unclips her seatbelt.

“C’mon.” He grumbles, arm around her waist and the other on her shoulder, guiding her inside. He held her dress in one hand. As she stumbled, he lifted her into his arms, exhaling silently. The guards are unfazed by this, many of them understanding how he feels as they had to help her drunk ass many times before. The door opened for him, and he trudged up the steps to her room. It’s almost exactly as he would have imagined, the typical bratty spoiled teenage daughters room. He sets her down in the plush mattress, ignoring how she reeks of alcohol and barf. She could shower I’m the morning when the hangover hit her. John covers her with a blanket, switching off the lights on his way out.

“Here…” he hands the dress to the maid, her face scrunching you at the smell. He gave her a sympathetic smile, heading downstairs. He was exhausted, never in his life expecting to have to take care of a child. His body fell on the couch heavily, his eyes shutting immediately and his hand rubbing his temples.

What a day….

Irina:

Irina kept laughing loudly all the way through her room. “You’re gonna kiss me goodnight?”, she babbled to John when he covered her with the blanket.

The next day, the story was a bit different. Even though there was no artificial light, her head was about to explode with the first sun rays passing through the curtains. “Noo….”, she protested, grabbing a shoe and throwing it at the window as if it was an alarm clock.

The way she dragged herself act of bed was too distant from the fancy glamorous night she had. She looked almost like a rag doll, dizzy and with a terrible belly ache. As best as she could, she managed to get into her bathroom to try and get into a proper human condition. The steam was good, it helped her come back to life although there wasn’t much to do about her stomach. She rested her forehead against the wall for a second, chuckling at some lost memory of her arguing with John inside the car.

“Fuck”, she murmured, scrubbing the towel against her face to awake more of her senses. For the first time in a very long time, she didn’t care about putting make up on and actually, without that black shade on her waterline, her features seemed gentler, softer. Despite that, when she saw John downstairs, she put on that strong attitude; Irina was not going to show any weakness and especially not to mention anything about her belly ache.

“Yes, I know what you are going to say. I crossed the limits, I acted like a spoiled child, I didn’t follow the rules, bla bla bla, bla bla bla…”, she said to him before he could objetc anything. But there was a slight second were her gaze dropped to the floor. Just a mere moment of actual belief in what she was saying; after all, John had taken care of her; if it had been him, she wouldn’t have been so nice about putting him under the blankets. It’s his work, she though then, too worried she could be giving him some sort of credit. “To your content I’m not going out today, okay? I need to practice my piano lessons”.

#irina x john wick #irina x john

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little-lily-w · 4 years

Text

John Wick & Irina rp

This is a story we’ve been creating with a roleplayer that I estimate a lot who is @f0rtis-fortuna-adiuvat, an amazing writer who understands Wick perfectly. Her parts will be marked with “John”. My parts will be marked with “Irina”.

Irina:

“Irina” -calls her friend to catch her attention- “Are you with us?”

“Sure” -she replies but keeps her eyes on the window watching a new car park outside which causes her friend to roll her eyes.

A man gets out of the car. He is tall, with medium-length black hair and, of course, he is wearing a suit, they are always wearing boring suits.

“Irina!” - Viggo´s voice comes from downstairs - “Come here!”

She looks at her friend and boyfriend. “So I guess it´s time to meet The Man”.

Her friend chuckles. “Make things easy for him, the last one couldn´t stand you anymore after a month”.

John:

Mr wick, it’s always a pleasure.” Viggo said in his thick Russian accent, a smile on his face as he shakes the ex marines hand.

“Good to see you again. You’re looking well.” John mused, eyeing his extravagant suit and expensive cigar in his hand. The man chuckled.

“Father,” he greeted Viggo.

“Son, this is John Wick, a very good and old friend of mine. I trust you will speak to him with the same respect you show me.” Viggo warned, eyes cold and unwavering. Iosef nodded.

“Nice to meet you, mr wick.” He said. The boy was arrogant but also too afraid to cross his father.

Irina:

Irina turns her head to look at the man with a mocking smirk. “Hi, Mr. Wick”.

John:

John looked confused at viggo, raising an eyebrow.

John eyes viggo warily, knowing there was no way to deny him.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Tarasov.” John said respectfully, nodding his head to her.

Irina opens the door and sees the two people inside, close to each other. You are always wanting to put your hands on him, don´t you? Irina thinks but bites her tongue to not say anything.

“Get the fuck out of here, I want to be alone”, she says in her typical disgusting commanding way.

“But, Irina…”

–

Once downstairs, still a bit sleepy, she goes straight to the kitchen.

John:

John raises an eyebrow, standing as she talked. He took the pizza from her hand, and he threw it away. Then he placed a bowl in front of her, handing her the cereal box.

Irina:

–

“I´m sorry, Miss Tarasov, I can´t let you go out”, he says.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”.

“Mr. Wick´s orders”.

“Listen you idiot, is Mr John Wick your boss? Cause as far as I understand, my father is your boss and if you don´t let me out in this moment, I´d gladly tell him to kick your ass”.

The man hesitates, not able to respond, afraid of Viggo´s reaction if his daughter lets him know about an unpleasent situation. Finally, he steps aside and Irina leaves.

–

They reach the motorcycle outside, Irina struggling to put on the helmet and when she finally makes it, she says to her lost boyfriend: “Accelerate. Accelerate and don´t you fucking stop”.

“Oh, no, is he behind us? What´s the problem with this guy?”.

“Shut up and keep driving!”,

John:

Anger. The purest form.

Anger towards irina. Anger towards this guard that just told him he let her go.

“What the fuck did I tell you?” John raged, shorter than the guard, but the guard was afraid nonetheless. He visible shook, stammering as he answered.

“She…she told me to let her go.”

“So? I told you to keep her in the goddamn house.”

“I’m sorry…” he whimpered. John hadn’t even touched him. He was scared shitless.

“Get out of my fucking sight. You’re fired.” He snarled, pushing him out of the doorway as he grabbed the keys of an expensive car.

“You can’t…you can’t fire me.” He said with a shaking tone. John stopped, turned and stared at him with a burning gaze.

“I just did. Get. The. Fuck. Out. Before I fucking end you!”

“She is known to cause trouble and escape from her guards. This is to find her if that happens.”

Irina:

Minutes later, she opens her eyes at the abruptly decreasing of speed and she finds they are stopping in an empty alley. Irina smacks her boyfriend´s shoulder and is fast to get back on the ground.

“What are you doing?!”, she yells at him, taking off her helmet.

“I lost him, okay?”, he replies doing the same, “I thought we needed to stop for a second”.

Her boyfriend gets off the motorcycle and walks towards her. “Well, I know it´s not an ideal place but since I was like your knight in shining armour, can I get a kiss?”

“Shut up, asshole”, Irina pushes his chest.

John:

“I suggest you get the fuck away from her.” A low growl was heard. Her boyfriend startled, jumping back and biting her lip accidentally. He glared at the tall man, wiping his mouth.

“See ya, rina…” he boyfriend glared at John, starting his bike and racing off.

Irina:

John:

He stopped her before she reached the door handle, pulling her arm. He shoved her against the brick wall behind them, not hard but enough to show he wasn’t joking.

Irina:

–

She goes downstairs, only to find John there. “We´re going out”, she says, almost as if she is seeking permission in the way she looks at him. “Red Circle”.

John:

“Mr wick, good to hear from you.” The russian accent speaks through johns phone. He doesn’t answer, waiting for him to continue.

“I see…I’ll see to it that the man is taken care of.”

Irina:

John:

This was the truth of the underground. Insecure people rising to power and pretending they have their shit together.

“Get out of here.” John said gruffly. The man sized him up, puffing out his chest. John sighed. “I said, get the fuck out of here.”

“Are you alright?”

His phone dinged, a message confirming that the target was taken care of, no longer in the bar. She was swaying, clearly wasted. He grabbed her chin, checking her eyes that could barely focus on his.

“Lets Go. You’ve had enough tonight.” He didn’t give her the chance to refuse, helping her outside. Despite her whining, he got her into the car, buckled safely.

Irina:

#john wick rp #irina rp

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charmergirl2468 · 5 years

Text

Hermitcraft Babus #3

Chapter 3: Babysitting

A/N: I am so sorry this took so long! I had one idea with Scara that I ended up stuck on! So I went with this one because Stressed!Iskall is fun to write. Hope this slice of cute helps make up for how long it took!

Joe grinned as he looked at the progress of his Roller Toaster. He had a good frame for the coaster so far. All that was left was the terrain and redstone. The poet had a rough idea as to what he wanted for the terrain, he’d just have to collect the terracotta and magma.

Just as Joe was about to take flight to get those materials, he’d spotted Iskall walking towards him with little Pip in his arms and a baby bag hanging off his shoulder. He had a few estimates as to what his fellow hermit was doing in his neck of the woods, but didn’t want to jump to conclusions too quickly. So he gave a warm greeting of “Good Afternoon Iskall! What brings you and Pip to my part of Hermit Land?”

Iskall sighed as if he was defeated as he lightly rocked Pip. Said tot was asleep in his fathers hold, snoring quietly as he dreamed. Iskall looked as if he was debating himself before he finally blurted out “Can I ask you to look after Pip for a few hours?”

“Of course, my friend. But what, pray tell, is the business must you attend?”

“Stress asked me for some help with her Super Smelter. Apparently nothing is smelting right”

“Understood” Joe then reached out to take Pip. Iskall in turn shied away from the advance with a worried look on his face.

“B-Before you take Pip,” He stuttered, shifting his arms so he could free the baby bag, “T-There’s some things I should tell you about Pip”

The Swede handed the bag to his friend, moving his son to rest his head on his shoulder. Said baby stirred but was not woken up, which Iskall was thankful for.

“To start, there should be some homemade baby food in there if Pip gets hungry. He isn’t old enough for solid food, so if he somehow goes through all that you can make more by mashing together carrots and milk”

“Got it!”

“He’s also teething so I packed some teething rings. But he has been chewing on wool clumps if I leave it laying around, so be mindful of item drops”

“Iskall?”

“He’s also gotten Grian’s Button problem, so keep him away from any redstone devices! Actually, keep him away from redstone all together. I doubt babies are able to digest it”

“Iskall…”

“And if I’m not back to pick him up at 7 pm, you have my express permission to go right to my base! There should be a house on my Mycelium Island, his room is up the stairs and the first door on the right!”

“Iskall!”

Said man’s nervous rambling was cut off by the out burst. Joe placed a hand on his friends free shoulder. “Relax,” he assured, “Pip is in good hands. You go ahead and help Stress, alright?”

Iskall could only fidget from one leg to another. Tension was written all over him, Joe could see that much. It wasn’t surprising considering fate had dropped a baby on him without warning. No time to prepare a room or set aside resources, just a baby and a outer force almost saying ‘Good Luck with that!’ with a smirk. A situation like that could make even the likes of TFC become stressed out.

Iskall, though hesitantly, did concede to Joe’s point and carefully handed his son over. The poet let the baby quietly wake in his hold, his tiny smiles and babbles slipping out so natural. Iskall smiled as he gave his son a goodbye kiss on his forehead and then rocketed off.

Joe rocked Pip as he started to walk towards Hermitville. “Now then, let’s make haste” he playfully said,” Back to Hermitville, no time to waste!” The rhyme cause the tot to babble happily. “Perhaps I’ve made you a fan? Time shall tell if that’s the plan” Again, little Pip babbled along with his babysitter.

Joe knew what he was doing. He was helping Pip learn about conversation structure. This wasn’t his first time watching over someone’s child, surprisingly enough. On many worlds before this one, he had been tasked with caring for kids. Still, there was nothing like watching over the next generation.

Then Pip busted out crying and the guessing game started.

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

Pip was sound asleep again, laying in his crib. It’s already 8 and Iskall wasn’t back yet. So Joe took up his previous offer to stay at his mycelium house. It was a cozy and covered the bases a house needed, such as a bathroom and a kitchen. Even the comfortable living room that he was sitting in right now.

The front door opened, revealing an Iskall looking very refreshed. His diamond eye was polished, and bow adorned his beard. He even had pine green nail polish. That look alone confirmed what Joe knew from the beginning.

“Tricked into a spa day?”

“Tricked into a spa day”

Since hellos were skipped, Iskall went straight to Pips room. All could Joe do was follow suit. The Swede gave a sigh of relief as soon as he saw his son sleeping peacefully. He quietly closed the door to let Pip to sleep. He and Joe tip toed to the living room to collapse on to the couch.

“So, feel any better after Stress’ Impromptu spa day?” Joe asked.

Iskall gave a sigh and tilted his head back to look at the ceiling. “Honestly? Not really” was all he could reply, “Stress pretty much had to freeze me in place to get me to calm me down. Even then Pip was on my mind the whole time I was there. I guess… I guess I just worry that I’m not raising Pip right…”

I know we’re all fumbling around since the kids showed up, but Pip is the only baby. He has to rely solely on me and well… being a parent wasn’t in the immediate plans. I just worry about Pip’s future…”

“Iskall…” Joe placed a hand on his friends shoulder with a shake of his head “Pip, as well as the other kids, will turn out alright. Like you said, we’re all figuring out raising the kids. But we’re definitely not in this alone. It’s been said ‘it takes a village to raise a child’ and we’re all here to be the village you need. Not just Stress and I, but also TFC, Xisuma, Jevin, and so many others. We’re all here for both you and Pip, I promise”

With those words of comfort, Iskall relaxed for the first time in a long while.

#Tag this as shipping and I’ll steal your kneecaps #charm art #hermitcraft babus #hermitcraft #iskall85 #joe hills #HCB Pip #I’m so sorry if this writing was terrible!#I’m way better at dialouge than the actions between #I honestly think stress would pull something like this

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thelastspeecher · 5 years

Text

Parental Flute - “Children”

The final part in this long de-aging scenario I’ve been slowly posting here and here. Why is the word children in quotation marks? Because finally, the children have realized that wait, they aren’t actually children. Also, this has adorable smol Fidds in it so you know it’s a winner.

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

Ford, Fiddleford, and Lute stood by the edge of the fountain, watching the sparkling water bubble cheerfully.

“So this is the Fountain of Youth,” Fiddleford said slowly. His wrinkled hands gripped his cane. “How’d ya find it, again?”

“During their visit, your mother as well as mine went in search of it. Mrs. McGucket had heard of a villain who had access to it. She went with my mother to convince said villain to give them the location.”

“Convince bein’ code fer…?”

“…I had no desire to learn what they did to get this information,” Ford said solemnly. He grimaced. “Mom and Mrs. McGucket are threatening enough on their own. Together? I doubt anyone could withstand them.”

“Feller prob’ly wet himself the second they showed up,” Lute drawled idly. He twirled a finger, causing a few ripples to form in the fountain. “By the way, it works. Ma ‘n Mrs. Pines tested it on themselves a bit. But they didn’t want to risk too much exposure, so’s they didn’t bring back samples.”

“Hence the trip out here,” Ford added. “We need to collect some of the water for experimentation. And since your cure doesn’t require altering the properties of the water in any way, we might as well cure you right now.” Fiddleford nodded.

“I’m eager to stop bein’ older ‘n sin.”

“Be careful. Try not to expose yourself to the water too much. You’ll risk overshooting,” Ford said. Fiddleford waved a hand airily.

“I can handle it. Here.” He handed the cane to Lute and braced his hands on the edge of the fountain. “Take a step back. I’d hate fer ya to get splashed.” Ford and Lute did as they were told, stepping a few feet away from the fountain.

“At least now he’ll finally stop actin’ like he needs this,” Lute muttered to Ford. “He’s obviously still spry. He don’t need a cane.”

“Shh. We should observe,” Ford hissed. Lute rolled his eyes. They watched Fiddleford brace his hands on the edge of the fountain, then duck his head under the water.

“That’s one way to do it,” Lute said under his breath. Ford frowned at him.

“Lute, please, stop being so difficult. I just want Fiddleford to return to his former self. Or have you forgotten that he has done his best to act the part of the grumpy old man?”

“Yeah, he has been actin’ pretty crotchety.” Lute sighed. “I’ll back off. Sorry. I’m a bit tired. You slept through it, but Angie had a nightmare last night and I had to comfort her.”

“Well, we should be able to reverse engineer a cure for her and Stan now that we’ve discovered this,” Ford said. Lute nodded.

“Yep. Yer a genius scientist and I know my way ‘round water. It’ll be easy street.” There was a loud splash. Lute and Ford both looked at the fountain. Fiddleford was no longer standing there. “Shit, he fell in,” Lute said, sprinting to the fountain, Ford close behind. Lute clapped his hands together then spread his arms wide, parting the magical water like the Red Sea. “Now you can grab him without gettin’ wet yourself.”

“Yes, I-” The words died on Ford’s tongue as he stared at Fiddleford on the bottom of the fountain. “Oh, no.”

“Grab him. We can say ‘oh no’ later,” Lute said in a distinctly strained voice. Ford looked at him. Lute’s face was pained, his arms trembling. “This water don’t like to cooperate. I won’t be able to hold it back fer much longer.” Ford snatched Fiddleford, who was curled up into a ball, from the fountain then backed away. Lute let his arms fall. The water splashed back into the fountain. “The water was fightin’ me controllin’ it. Like it had a mind of its own.”

“That’s likely due to the magical properties it possesses,” Ford said. Lute nodded.

“That sounds right. Now, what were you sayin’…” Lute trailed off, catching sight of Fiddleford in Ford’s arms. “…oh, no.”

“My words precisely.” Ford swallowed. “I think he fell asleep.”

“That seems to be the pattern with age changes. C’mon, let’s head back to the truck ‘n wait fer him to wake up.”

-----

Ford and Lute sat on the bed of Lute’s truck, Fiddleford still nestled in Ford’s arms. Lute sighed.

“At least we’re gettin’ out of the house and gettin’ a break from Stan ‘n Angie.” He looked around the autumnal forest. “And it’s awful pretty out here.”

“Yes.”

“Stanford, don’t worry. We collected some samples to run some tests on. It’ll be easy to whip up a cure now.”

“That’s what we thought prior to Fiddleford falling into the fountain.”

“Hon, trust me.” Lute cupped Ford’s face in his hands. “We’re nearin’ the end of this. I can tell.” He let his hands fall from Ford’s face. “Heck, we can even call Harper fer his expertise if’n ya want a second hydrokinetic to speed things up.”

“Or to babysit Stan and Angie,” Ford mumbled. “After all, you’ll be working in the lab with me while we try to come up with a cure, and…” He looked down at Fiddleford in his arms. “Fiddleford won’t be able to watch them.”

“I think we can get by with a regular babysitter fer a while. Stan ‘n Angie don’t know they used to be adults, ‘member? They think they’re just regular kidlets.”

“Yes, but will Fiddleford?” Ford asked. Lute chewed on his lip.

“I don’t know. But even if he doesn’t, I think Fidds will be willin’ to tolerate a babysitter fer the few days it takes to whip up that cure.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Fidds is very accommodatin’,” Lute said confidently. “He’s always been one to go with the flow.” Fiddleford shifted in Ford’s arms. “Oh, I think he’s wakin’ up.” Fiddleford yawned widely and stretched before opening his eyes. He frowned at Ford.

“Stanford?” he asked. Ford nodded. “What’s-” Fiddleford smacked his forehead with his hand. “I fell in the fountain, didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did,” Ford said, gently setting Fiddleford down between himself and Lute. “You seem to have become a toddler.”

“Fantastic,” Fiddleford muttered, crossing his chubby arms. “Three years old.”

“I didn’t say three.”

“No, but I know that’s my age.” Fiddleford wrinkled his brow. “Somehow.” Ford and Lute exchanged a confused shrug. “Did ya change my clothes or somethin’?”

“No, they shrunk with you,” Lute said. He scratched the back of his neck. “Looks like they changed to fit yer age, too. You weren’t wearin’ overalls ‘fore ya took a dip in that fountain. Which is a bit of a shame. I’d pay good money to dress a lil tot up in clothes that ‘re more suited fer an old man.” Fiddleford glared at Lute.

“I’m not yer dress-up doll, Lute.”

“Okay, okay.” Lute held his hands up. “On our way back to the house, we should prob’ly stop somewhere to pick up some clothes fer you.” Ford let out a loud groan. “I know, Stanford, yer gettin’ sick of buyin’ clothes. But Fidds won’t want to wear Danny and Daisy’s old things.”

“Fiddleford, it would make it much easier on us,” Ford pleaded. Fiddleford shook his head.

“No. I love my nieces, but I refuse to wear their old dresses ‘n skirts.”

“They also wore pants-” Ford started. Lute silently shook his head at Ford. “…I’ll drop it.” Tension that Ford hadn’t noticed before eased from Fiddleford’s shoulders.

“Thank you,” he said softly. He pulled on his hair, which had lengthened. “I think I need a haircut, too.”

“Don’t worry, we’ve got scissors in the truck.” Lute grimaced. “But we don’t have a car seat fer ya. And Ford won’t bother tryin’ to summon one, since the back seat’s filled with samples we collected from the fountain anyways.” Fiddleford sighed heavily.

“Fine. Whose lap am I sittin’ on?”

-----

Ford sat on the couch, idly flipping through a book Lute had bought him during their trip to pick up clothes for Fiddleford. He was attempting to relax, at Lute’s insistence, but could feel stress increasing with every second he wasn’t in the lab. A few feet from him, Stan and Angie played on the patterned rug with Fiddleford, excitedly helping him construct buildings from blocks and handing him crayons to color with. It was difficult to keep up the façade that Fiddleford was a normal toddler, but so far, Stan and Angie didn’t seem to suspect anything. Ford glanced over at the three children.

In fact, Angie didn’t bat an eye when Lute claimed that Fiddleford was her baby brother. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, thinking. Is that due to the confusion from the initial regression, or, as Lute suggested, Angie’s innate gullibility when she was younger? Or perhaps it was because Lute told her immediately after she had woken up, given that she takes a while to become fully lucid after waking?

“Maybe some combination of the three,” Ford mumbled quietly to himself. Stan laughed loudly. He ruffled Fiddleford’s hair.

“You’re a little gremlin, Fidds,” he said genially. Ford set down his book, intrigued by Stan’s phrasing.

That sounded exactly like his interactions with his daughters. Angie playfully punched Stan.

“Stan! Don’t call him that!” she scolded. She beamed at Fiddleford and stroked his face. “He’s just a baby.” Fiddleford made a soft, disgruntled noise.

Angie strokes her children’s faces. Yesterday, she did no such thing. Ford set his book on the side table and got up from the couch. Stan and Angie were still completely engrossed by Fiddleford, and as such, didn’t notice Ford leave the living room and make his way to the kitchen, where Lute was trying to find a recipe to use for dinner. It was only 3pm, but Lute wasn’t the best cook, so finding a recipe and then successfully following it took longer than it would Stan or Angie.

“Lute,” Ford hissed. Lute looked up from the cookbook he had been perusing.

“What?”

“Have you noticed anything odd about Angie’s behavior?” he asked. Lute raised an eyebrow. “Relative to how she was acting, say, last week.”

“I…” Lute frowned. “Yeah. She’s a bit less hyper. Seems a bit more, I dunno, mature? I mean, that’s not very difficult, but…”

“Yes, I think Stan’s been acting like that as well,” Ford said. “It’s also remarkably odd that Stan is so interested in spending time with Fiddleford. When we were children, he absolutely despised spending time with toddlers.” Lute’s eyes widened.

“Angie didn’t really like toddlers when we were kids, either,” he said. “Not until we were teens did she enjoy spendin’ time with tots ‘n babies.”

“I think spending time with Fiddleford might be reminding them of their adult years,” Ford said. Lute rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

“Maybe…” he said slowly. He looked over in the direction of the living room. “Ford, they’re quiet.” Ford strained his ears. Sure enough, the laughter from earlier had stopped. Ford grimaced.

“That’s never a good sign.”

“…Angie? Stan?” Fiddleford’s voice said cautiously. Lute and Ford exchanged a worried look before rushing into the living room. Angie was staring numbly at her hands, while Stan looked off into the distance, but not focusing on one single thing in the room.

“Oh, dear,” Lute whispered. He walked over to Angie and crouched down in front of her. “Angie?” Angie looked up.

“Lute, why am I five?” she asked in a strangled voice. Lute’s jaw dropped. He sat on the floor.

“You- you remember?” he asked. Angie nodded silently. Ford joined Lute in front of Angie. Her eyes lacked the lighthearted sparkle they’d had mere minutes ago; they seemed weightier, like they bore experience.

“The confusion must have worn off,” Ford said softly. Angie frowned at him.

“What are ya talkin’ ‘bout?”

“Well, what’s the last thing you recall?” Ford asked.

“We were in your lab,” Stan said abruptly. Ford and Lute looked over at him. Like Angie, something about his demeanor suggested he wasn’t the carefree five-year-old he had been this morning. “You were doing somethin’ with the thing I got from that new villain and then there was a flash of light.” Stan gestured to himself. “And now I guess I’m five.” Angie nodded.

“That’s the last thing I remember, too.” She furrowed her brow. “Or…wait. I think a few things are comin’ back…but it’s fuzzy.” Stan nodded slowly.

“Yeah. Same here. I’m remembering a bit, but not very clearly.”

“That accident was three weeks ago,” Ford said. Stan and Angie’s jaws dropped.

“We’ve been five for three weeks?!” Angie squeaked. “And we don’t really remember it?”

“Well, technically, you’ve been five for two weeks,” Ford said. Stan and Angie frowned, confused. “The first week, you were infants.”

“We- we were-” Stan stammered. He swallowed. “Well, that’s just fuckin’ great.” Both he and Angie were slowly turning red from embarrassment.

“Thank the Lord I don’t remember that,” Angie mumbled. She rubbed her face. “I- I-” She took a breath. “I think I’d like to move on from this. I don’t particularly like thinkin’ ‘bout it.”

“Seconded,” Stan said. He frowned at Ford. “Hang on, you never answered Angie’s question. Why are the last three weeks all…fuzzy?”

“Fiddleford inspected the device, shortly after you were regressed the first time,” Ford said. “It has a…what did you call it, Fiddleford?”

“Discombobulater chip,” Fiddleford answered. Stan and Angie stared at Fiddleford. “It put the two of ya in a state of mental confusion. Guess it fin’lly wore off.” He huffed. “And it’s about time. I’m not very fond of bein’ treated like a toddler.”

“Okay, back up,” Stan said, holding his hands up. “Why the hell is Fiddlesticks tinier than we are? Did that thing hit him, too?”

“Yes,” Ford said. He rubbed the back of his neck. “But it progressed, rather than regressed, his age.”

“How’s he a lil tot, then?” Angie demanded.

“That was a mishap at the Fountain of Youth.”

“Yeah, he fell in,” Lute drawled. Stan and Angie stared at him silently. “Oh, boy. We lost ya, didn’t we?”

“No fuckin’ shit,” Stan swore. He rubbed his eyes. “Back to the beginning. Start over, from when we first got zapped.”

“That’s probably not the wisest move,” Ford said. Angie let out a small yawn. “It’s naptime.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Angie asked.

“Yer five. You need naps,” Lute said flatly. He glanced at the clock. “And Ford’s right. It’s time fer yours.”

“Hell no!” Stan said, jumping to his feet. “You’re not gonna make me take a nap like some little kid!” Angie stood as well and crossed her arms.

“I’m in the same boat as Stan. We ain’t children. You can’t treat us like we are.”

“It’s a biological necessity,” Ford started. Stan shook his head. “Really, it is! The both of you need to nap!”

“You can’t make us,” Stan growled. Ford and Lute looked at each other, exasperated.

“This is startin’ to make me miss when they thought they were our kids,” Lute said. Stan blinked. Angie seemed similarly taken aback.

“When we what?” Stan asked. Seizing the opportunity while Stan and Angie were temporarily off-guard, Ford looped one arm around each of them, then stood to his full height. “Hey! Put me down! You little shit!”

“No, you need to nap.”

“Fuck you!” Ignoring Stan and Angie’s various swears and protests, Ford carried them to the guest room they were currently staying in. He set them on the bed. Stan immediately leapt off.

“No,” Ford said firmly, closing the door before Stan could escape. Stan glowered at him. Angie yawned again. “Stanley, please cooperate. It will be much easier for both of us.” Stan continued to glare. “Fine.” Ford picked Stan up again and, once more ignoring protests, tucked Stan and Angie into bed. He then sat on the edge of the bed and began to sing an old lullaby. Stan crossed his arms.

“Good luck getting that to work. Yeah, Mom mighta sung it…but…” Stan’s eyelids drooped.

After a few minutes, Stan and Angie were fast asleep. The door opened. Lute poked his head in.

“Good, they’re sleepin’,” he said quietly. He stepped into the room, carrying Fiddleford, who seemed on the verge of falling asleep, but still barely awake. “I wanted to wait until they were asleep ‘fore bringin’ Fidds in. Didn’t want their arguin’ to get him all excited.”

“Lute, I’m older than you,” Fiddleford mumbled blearily, his eyes half-closed. “Don’t talk ‘bout me like that.”

“Sorry, Fidds.” Lute gently rested Fiddleford in Daisy’s old flower-patterned crib, which he and Ford had decided was the safest option for Fiddleford as a toddler. “Sorry I made ya wait so long too. Otherwise, ya wouldn’t have been too sleepy to walk.”

“Mm-hmm,” Fiddleford slurred. He pried his eyes open to look at Stan and Angie. “They should count their blessin’s. At least they can sleep in a reg’lar bed.”

“Yep.” Lute stroked Fiddleford’s head. Fiddleford closed his eyes and curled into a ball. Within seconds, his breathing steadied. Lute sighed heavily, then looked at Ford. “I can’t decide what’s worse. The three of them not knowin’ they’re really adults, or the three of ‘em bein’ full aware of the fact.”

#sorry for the short summary at the beginning but I'm eager to post this #I've had it ready for a while now actually #I just haven't posted it yet bc I couldn't think of a good title #luckily Whitney helped me out #Superhero/villain AU #Flute #Stanford Pines #Fiddleford McGucket #Lute McGucket #Stanley Pines #Angie McGucket #my writing #ficlet #speecher speaks

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armoroadpasaran · 5 years

Note

Baby Cutelord!!!

(((o(๑`^´๑)o))) Nooo! I am a BIG! PASARAN! An I do BIG PASARAN TINGS!

[“Yes, like nap, deny that you’re a baby, have a babysitter, and throw cute tantrums like you’re doing now.”]

(`ー´) ....I tot yoo did not like being called a babysitter.

[“Eh.”]

#Anonymous

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see-jess-write · 5 years

Text

Parent-Teacher Night

Tagging: Matthew Davidson & Mercedes Jones ( @indiemercedesjones ) When: August 7, 2019 Where: Lewiston Middle School Notes: Matt’s late to his meeting to talk to James’ 1st grade teacher.

Mercy

Mercedes made her way up the three rows of chairs, placing the name plates down. She had just finished doing most of the meet and greets. She had one last meeting but they seemed to be running late. Walking to her desk she knocked down a stack of papers and bent down to pick it up. Someone knocked on the door. "Come in." She said grabbing the last of the papers before standing fully.

.Matt

Matt thought he’d get out of the station right at 6 but a call that came in at 5 kept in longer than expected and he rushed to the school to get to the whole teacher parent thing set up with James’ first grade teacher. Matt couldn’t get over his son being in first grade and as he hurriedly walked down the hall he felt a giant in there. Matt found the class and went in right when he was greeted by the backside of who he assumed was the teacher. “Hey. Are you Ms. Jones?” He asked as he stood and tried not to find this entertaining.

Mercy

Mercedes nodded moving over to the taller man and extended her hand. "Hi yes I am Mercedes Jones. And you must be Mr. Davidson?" she said taking in his appearance. He was taller than her 5'3 height so it was an adjustment looking up to him when she usually looked down tot he kids. "Nice to meet you. Please have a seat."

Matt

“So...?” He asked asked after their handshake. “Do you prefer Mercedes Jones or am I supposed to call you Ms. Jones? Though I’ve got to admit it makes me want to sing that song.” He delivered this with one of his signature, dimpled smiles. Matt went to a chair and sat, feeling huge in the seat. “Sorry I’m late. Had a fire to put out. Literally.” He settled and leaned forward on this forearms. “Am I the last parent of the night?”

Mercy

"Mercedes is fine, and no thank you no need to sing." His smile wasn' lost on her. "Its okay I was told you would be late. And yes you are. This is just to go over any questions you may have, any needs James might have. So you are a fire fighter?"

Matt

“You sure? I can’t sing with a damn but I do put on one hell of a show.” The thing with Matt was he felt right at home talking to people, even those he just met. “And, I don’t really know what to ask. I did read what you gave out on Monday and it felt pretty straight forward. He seems happy with things so far and likes the kids in his class.” Matt shared and nodded with a smile. “Yeah. Been slinging the ol’ hose for about nine years now.”

Mercy

She looked at him and nodded. "Yeah I am sure. " She said picking up her folder for James. "Yeah well I like to be straight forwards. James is a very bright and fun child. I do see where he gets his sense of humor from though." She nodded. "Well you should come back for career day, I am sure the kids would love to get a look at you in your uniform." She placed her glasses on and smiled. "So I moved James to the Blue reading group. Which is good, he is very advanced for 6 years old, you should be proud."

Matt

What was with this woman? It was like talking to a brick wall that was all business and no joining along. Maybe with the fact she was around kids all day that it must’ve stifled her fun side...”I am proud of him. He’s a good kid and he’s taken over reading stories some time back. He prefers to read them to me but lets me join in whenever he gets too tired but doesn’t want it to end just yet.” Matt thought about the career day and it actually had him grinning. “Do you know when that career days happening? I want to make sure I give notice for it. Maybe see if I can get the guys and the truck over here.”

Mercy

Mercedes nodded. "I can tell. He enjoys music class as well. I know its just the first week but I can pretty much tell when a kid really enjoys learning." She saw him light up and smiled. "Usually its in September. I can give you the date before you leave. We also have the camping trip you might want to participate in. Its just an overnight at the camp grounds but the kids really loved it last year."

Matt

“Has he tried to teach the other kids classic rock songs? I play a lot of that around the house. And awesome. That’s enough time to get the word out.” Matt then realized he had a question. “Have the kids shared what they’ve done for summer? We moved back from Amsterdam and I have pictures he can use to show our time there.” They spent a year and a half there and as much as he enjoyed it, this was home. “Camping, eh? Now that I can get behind.”

Mercy

Mercedes smiled. "Yes, good to know he gets it honestly." She shook her head. "That is next weeks assignment. Pictures are always good. It allows the kids to feel like they were actually there. Though Amsterdam is a very unique place to go too." She handed him the flyer for camp. "I give you enough time so you can take off. "

Matt

“I’ll get the pictures printed by then and let him have fun with picking out which ones he wants to share with the class. His mom moved to Amsterdam a couple years ago and he wanted to be close to her. Not that it did any good because she still hardly saw him.” Too much information? Doesn’t matter, he was still pissed about it. “Thanks, Mercy.” He read over the flyer and knew exactly where this place was. “I went to this camp when I was in 6th grade. I didn’t know it’s still around.”

Mercy

Mercedes nodded and frowned as Matt spoke. "I am so sorry Mr. Davidson. I cant understand parents who dont wanna be around their kids. If I were a mom, nothing in the world would keep me from them." She didnt mean to speak up like that, but absent parents bugged her. "Mercy?" She raised an eyebrow then nodded. "Yeah the kids love it. And it's a great way for parents to bond with their kids."

Matt

He sighed and leaned back on the chair, stretching his leg out some. Damn that felt good, even when this chair felt ready to break under him. “Did I call you that?” He didn’t even realize it and chuckled. “I’ve got a thing of changing people’s names. Shortening them. Guess I did it without thinking.” He rolled his head to the side and looked more at her than he did before. Kind of checking her out but in a subtle way. “How long you’ve been doing this anyway? Can’t be more than a few years. I’d guess this is your first but you seem pretty on top of the show here.”

Mercy

"You did, it's a first I mostly get Cedes." She closed her file, he seemed like he was tired and could use a break he did just come from a fire. "I've been teaching for five years, but I moved here last year. New change and all. And I mean I like to stay busy, it's just me and Chewy so I have more time than some of the other teachers." She stood. "I know you are tired and want to get home to James, so we can cut this short. If you have any questions here." She handed him a paper. "My email and phone number are there. And if I am called or emailed at night I try to answer by the next morning."

Matt

“Cedes, huh? I can see that but Mercy reminds me of Uncle Jesse and I can see myself going that route and possibly annoying with you with that line at some point in the future.” Was he hitting on her? Well.....she is pretty hot and Matt didn’t notice any ring on her finger. “I’m assuming Chewy is a dog or cat and that you’re not actually shacking up with a Wookie. But hey, I’m not one to judge.” His hands went up after he said this and chuckled, acting a damn idiot but still amused by his antics. “Yeah. I should get going. J likes to recap his day while we make dinner together. Thanks for the call. If I do reach out it’ll probably be more by text. It’s easier for me.” He got to his feet and felt wobbly and off balance for a second from being down so long. “Thanks for sticking around to talk.”

Mercy

"Mercedes shook her head. "Uncle Jesse is still hot so I don't mind being called that." She wanted to keep things professional but the image of her dating Chewbacca was too funny. "Chewy is my dog, he's my baby. And don't hate on Wookie love, I heard they give the best cuddles. And text is fine, I don't mind." She stood and when she saw him wobble she went to him holding his shoulders. "You okay?" She looked up to him. "Are you sure the fire didn't mess you up? Do you need to go to the doctors?"

Matt

Matt wanted to get into everything she just said but the reaction she gave, getting on her feet and everything, caused all his focus to land on that instead. “I’m good. That chair wasn’t exactly Matt sized and I hadn’t been down off my feet like that in awhile. But no, no need to rush me to the doctors.” He assured her. “Just seeing you react like that tells me J is in good hands while he’s in your class.”

Mercy

Mercedes nodded. "Yeah, sorry about that. They chairs are pretty much kid friendly and not adult friend, if that makes sense." She smiled, letting him go. "I promise your son will be in great hands! Don't worry. And you are free to come help out anytime you want."

Matt

“You just want me to come babysit the kids while you watch Star Wars.” He said as he laughed. “And I’m still not sure about this Wookie love, but whatever floats your boat there, Mercy.” Matt didn’t bother changing it back to Mercedes. Why should he? “Okay. I think I’ve taken up enough of time tonight. And that’s only because I can hear the floor waxer machine whirring down the hallway.”

Mercy

"Excuse you I will have you know that the kids can watch themselves, I am just a glorified babysitter myself. And don't hate the wookie love boo!" she said with a smile. Looking out the door she nodded. "Yeah he hates it when I stay late. But yeah enjoy your night and say hi to James for me."

Matt

“Then you should put a cardboard cutout of you at the desk and hang out under the actual desk like George Castanza did on Seinfeld. They’ll never know until one of them comes and asks a question. Then they’ll think you’re ignoring them and that’ll create years worth of therapy for that kid.” His damn imagination got ahead of him and he knew it was past time to leave. “Don’t tell me you’re the last one in here? I can at least walk you to your car since you stayed late waiting for my ass.”

Mercy

"Lord I do not want to traumatize the kids." she packed u her bag and slipped it on her shoulder. "Its nothing new I am always late around here." She smiled at him. "Well if you are gonna try and be a gentleman the least I can do is let you."

Matt

“If I was trying to be one I’d have a suit and top hat. Fancy the shit out of it and look like someone straight out of a Jane Austen story. This is just me, doing my Matt thing. And why do you leave so late? I thought teachers usually called it quits around 6.” Matt went to the doorway and walked out to the hall where he looked over the artwork on a bulletin board.

Mercy

Mercedes covered her mouth as a snort came out. "Wow. I can't even believe you said that." She shrugged. "I know they do but most teachers have families to go home too. I like being here, it feels less lonely." She shrugged it off. "Ignore I said that."

Matt

“See. Now you’ve gone and hurt your dog’s feelings. He probably thinks you like being home with him but you’re here instead.” It felt surreal to be in a school after hours. As if he was about to disrupt some ritual the teachers do at night. “But I get it. The nights my parents have James its me and my beer and Netflix. Or Hulu. I like variety.”

Mercy

"He is with the dog walker until I get home, I am not that mean." She locked her door and walked out the building. "Oh so you get your "netflix and chill" on huh? But I use Amazon too."

Matt

“Dog walkers hang out with the dog after they walk them?” Matt’s Silverado was parked on the other side of the building but he’d just hoof it after she left. “Netflix and chill’s when you’ve got someone over.” Matt grinned, winking at her. He needs to stop. “Ah. Prime. I let that go but I heard some shows are worth checking out.”

Mercy

"My neighbor always wanted a dog but her mom won't let her so we worked it out to where she takes care of chewy when I am not there and she gets a dog and gets paid." Did he just wink at her? Was he flirting? No he wasn't she was definitely tired. "I mean I supposed." She reached her car and smiled. "Well thank you, I appreciate you walking me."

Matt

“Almost like you’re co-parenting a dog. That was a real nice thing you did for them. We weren’t allowed pets growing up so I feel that.” He stopped next to a car and did one of those bows and pretending to lift a hat off his head at the same time. “I bid thee a goodnight, fair Ms. Mercedes Jones.”

Mercy

"Yeah well I wanted to make her happy and I did. I love Chewy and this way he gets the best of both worlds." Mat bowed and she smirked. "Why kind sir I do thank thee and wish thee a goodnight as well." She said unlocking her door.

Matt

He laughed, glad she went along with this. Matt walked back a few paces and stuffed his hands into his jeans pockets and waved her off after she backed up and pulled away. Matt knew he skirted a fine line there but it wasn’t his fault his son’s teacher smoking hot. “Not a bad parent teacher conference.” He said to himself as he started the trek to his car. “Wonder what she’ll say if I send a meme as my first text...”

#para: mercedes #v: hot for teacher #muse: mercedes jones #opp: mercedes jones

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charsimatic · 6 years

Note

All the super detailed questions for Faye please

YES. PLEASE. I am all for this!

My bby.

1. What’s their full name? Why was that chosen? Does it mean anything?

“My name is Faye Elizabeth Ross. I’m not sure why my mom and dad chose my name, other than my mom liked fairies and my grandmother’s name was Elizabeth, for the middle name. I like it, though!”

2. Do they have any titles? How did they get them?

“Uh…titles? I’m a daughter, sister, aunt, friend, fiance, and mother. Do those count?”

3. Did they have a good childhood? What are fond memories they have of it? What’s a bad memory?

“I LOVED my childhood, most of it anyway. I remember my mom and dad taking me and my sisters to Six Flags one summer. I was maybe 3? 4? So I couldn’t ride all the big rides Mads and Jaymie were riding cause I wasn’t tall enough, and I was SO mad. So my dad put me up on his shoulders and took me to go get ice cream. We hid it from my sisters!

Everyone knows the bad memory, but if you want me to refresh it, the last thing I remember seeing is trees rushing up towards the window.”

4. What is their relationship with their parents? What’s a good and bad memory with them? Did they know both parents?

“My relationship with them was great. I have lots of memories where I was giggling and laughing and smiling, I was just an overall happy kid.”

5. Do they have any siblings? What’s their names? What is their relationship with them? Has their relationship changed since they were kids to adults?

“I have two older sisters, Madlaina and Jaymie. When we were kids, Mads and I didn’t get along AT ALL. I think it was the age difference. She tried to boss me around and I wouldn’t take it, and that would piss her off! She’s 11 years older than me. Jaymie and I have always gotten along. Jaymie was thrilled to have a little sister, and treated me more like a delicate baby doll and loved to play with me. I went to her for advice for everything. Since becoming adults, my relationship with Mads has gotten better, but she’s so busy with her career I hardly ever get to see her. We try to talk every day though!”

6. What were they like at school? Did they enjoy it? Did they finish? What level of higher education did they reach? What subjects did they enjoy? Which did they hate?

“I was pretty average, I think. I listened, but I got busted for talking. I got a detention for fighting another girl on the playground once, cause she called me a dumb blonde. I enjoyed it, and I did graduate high school, which was a challenge, because I had Sophia in my senior year. I decided not to go to college to focus on her, but now that I’m getting married and everything and will soon have FIVE kids to support rather than one, I’d like to go back to school for something.”

7. Did they have lots of friends as a child? Did they keep any of their childhood friends into adulthood?

“I was pretty outgoing, so I made friends easily. Keeping them was harder, especially after the accident. They didn’t know what to say to me. Two of my friends stayed in my life for the long haul- my fiance, Freeman, and my best friend AND maid of honor, Braylee! The three of us hung out all the time as kids and have always been close. I don’t know what I’d do without them.”

8. Did they have pets as a child? Do they have pets as an adult? Do they like animals?

“We had a dog growing up named Missy. She was a lab and the sweetest dog ever. She died when I was five, though, she was old. I now have a dog with my family.”

9. Do animals like them? Do they get on well with animals?

“I think so, my dog seems to love me! I also had an asshole cat, well, my sister did, who wouldn’t leave me alone when I lived with her. He was SO rude, but he loved me.”

10. Do they like children? Do children like them? Do they have or want any children? What would they be like as a parent? Or as a godparent/babysitter/ect?

“I LOVE children and I LOVE having children! While they drive me insane on a regular basis, they also bring me incredible joy and they are FUNNY.

I try to be as laid back as possible with my kids, but my anxiety has been bad lately with Freeman’s job, so I think that went out the window.”

11. Do they have any special diet requirements? Are they a vegetarian? Vegan? Have any allergies?

“Nope.”

12. What is their favourite food?

“Food in general. Especially right now. Pregnant with twins? I’ll eat anything you put in front of me.”

13. What is their least favourite food?

“KALE. Who in their right mind eats that stuff?”

14. Do they have any specific memories of food/a restaurant/meal?

“My mom’s tater tot casserole. She made it for all of us, usually on Sunday’s. All three of us have the recipe, I just haven’t had the chance to make it yet. It is SO. GOOD.”

15. Are they good at cooking? Do they enjoy it? What do others think of their cooking?

“Eh…I’m getting better, since I have to cook for the kids most nights right now, whenever Freeman is on a job or working late. I used to absolutely suck at it.”

16. Do they collect anything? What do they do with it? Where do they keep it?

“I don’t, really. Unless it’s deer things. I like deer.”

17. Do they like to take photos? What do they like to take photos of? Selfies? What do they do with their photos?

“When you have young kids, you have more photos than you know what to do with.”

18. What’s their favourite genre of: books, music, tv shows, films, video games and anything else

“Romance, romance, pop and country, comedy and drama, romance, and eh, I don’t really play video games.”

19. What’s their least favourite genres?

“Horror. And rap. Enough said.”

20. Do they like musicals? Music in general? What do they do when they’re favourite song comes?

“I LOVE musicals! I’ve made Freeman watch a few with me too! I’m always listening to music- when I’m cooking, cleaning, driving, whatever. And I dance. Badly. I make it a point to dance as terribly as I can. My kids hate it.”

21. Do they have a temper? Are they patient? What are they like when they do lose their temper?

“I was very quick to anger for a while, and sometimes, I still can be, but I’ve been actively trying to take a deep breath or walk away if I can until I’m not as angry anymore. I cry when I lose my temper and start screaming.”

22. What are their favourite insults to use? What do they insult people for? Or do they prefer to bitch behind someone’s back?

“I playfully insult my sisters. I’ll call them bitch, asshole, stuff like that, but I really don’t like to actually insult people.”

23. Do they have a good memory? Short term or long term? Are they good with names? Or faces?

“Next question. Sore subject.”

24. What is their sleeping pattern like? Do they snore? What do they like to sleep on? A soft or hard mattress?

“I sleep okay now, but for a while after the incident I slept like absolute shit. I tossed and turned and had nightmares every night. Now, with two almost preteens, a toddler, and twins in my tummy? I sleep like the dead.

Also, I like to sleep on Freeman.” *Grins*

25. What do they find funny? Do they have a good sense of humour? Are they funny themselves?

“I find a lot of things funny, and I think I have a pretty good sense of humor. I don’t know if I’m funny, but I make people laugh cause I can’t get through a joke or story without cracking myself up, and that makes other people laugh, so.”

26. How do they act when they’re happy? Do they sing? Dance? Hum? Or do they hide their emotions?

“I sing, dance, hum, smile, I get really loving and cuddly, too.”

27. What makes them sad? Do they cry regularly? Do they cry openly or hide it? What are they like they are sad?

“Uh, what doesn’t make me sad? You know those EVIL commercials they play to try and get you to donate to animal shelters? Water works. I don’t really hide it, unless it’s something big that I’m not ready to explain to my children. I get really mopey or irritable, and I get angry at myself for not being able to snap out of it.”

28. What is their biggest fear? What in general scares them? How do they act when they’re scared?

“Losing my family and children. It’s happened before and they had to give me a tranquilizer.”

29. What do they do when they find out someone else’s fear? Do they tease them? Or get very over protective?

“Middle? I dunno. I try to help them if I can, or try to soothe their fears.”

30. Do they exercise? Regularly? Or only when forced? What do they act like pre-work out and post-work out?

“I do exercise. I gained a LOT of weight in the hospital and hated myself, and I’ve finally gotten to a place where I’m happy.”

31. Do they drink? What are they like drunk? What are they like hungover? How do they act when other people are drunk or hungover? Kind or teasing?

“I don’t really drink, but I’ve gotten tipsy a couple times with Braylee over girls night.”

32. What do they dress like? What sorta shops do they buy clothes from? Do they wear the fashion that they like? What do they wear to sleep? Do they wear makeup? What’s their hair like?

“I’m a mom, I dress like a mom!” *Laughs* “I try to find things that are 1- on sale, 2- cute, and 3- comfortable. Bonus if it can be easily washed because I’m clumsy and, again, I have a toddler.”

33. What underwear do they wear? Boxers or briefs? Lacey? Comfy granny panties?

“Comfy granny panties if I’m lounging around the house or it’s shark week. Lacey when I’m uh…” *Clears throat* “I’ve also been known to wear Freeman’s boxers, but that sorta…drives him wild…so I have to be careful.”

34. What is their body type? How tall are they? Do they like their body?

“Slim but curvy. Curves came after kiddos. My dancer body is all but gone.”

35. What’s their guilty pleasure? What is their totally unguilty pleasure?

“Guilty pleasure? Dance moms. Sorry not sorry, I’m sucked into the drama and I love critiquing the dances. Unguilty pleasure? Chocolate. Who doesn’t love chocolate?”

36. What are they good at? What hobbies do they like? Can they sing?

“GOODNESS no, I can’t sing. But I do still like to dance a bit, and bake.”

37. Do they like to read? Are they a fast or slow reader? Do they like poetry? Fictional or non fiction?

“I read every night before bed. I’ve been reading forever, so I read pretty quickly. I like fiction. I don’t really like poetry.”

38. What do they admire in others? What talents do they wish they had?

“I wish I could sing! My niece, Emily, can sing, but she doesn’t plan on doing anything with it, which makes me sad.

I admire truthfulness, kindness, and a soft heart. That’s hard to keep.”

39. Do they like letters? Or prefer emails/messaging?

“Freeman and I leave each other little love letters all the time!”

40. Do they like energy drinks? Coffee? Sugary food? Or can they naturally stay awake and alert?

“Coffee, and I drink it throughout the day because I’m trying to keep up with Caleb, organize the girls schedules, and get them to and from their sports and stuff. I just started driving again, it was a necessity.”

41. What’s their sexuality? What do they find attractive? Physically and mentally? What do they like/need in a relationship?

“My sexuality is Freeman!” *Giggles* “Look at him. That’s what I find attractive. He’s hot. He’s also incredibly loving and caring, hilarious, and a fantastic father to our children. He’s also..” *Breaths and blushes, fanning herself* “Amazing. In bed.”

42. What are their goals? What would they sacrifice anything for? What is their secret ambition?

“I want to raise my children to the best of my ability and make sure they’re healthy and happy. I would sacrifice anything for them. And my secret ambition? I’ve been thinking more and more of opening a cafe…”

43. Are they religious? What do they think of religion? What do they think of religious people? What do they think of non religious people?

“I believe in God. He’s saved me and my family quite a few times. I don’t…think anything of non-religious people? Believe whatever you’d like, it’s not harming me or anyone else.”

44. What is their favourite season? Type of weather? Are they good in the cold or the heat? What weather do they complain in the most?

“Season, summer. Weather, a good mix between sunny and rainy. I’m better in the heat, and I complain when it’s too cold!”

45. How do other people see them? Is it similar to how they see themselves?

“I don’t know how others see me. I hope they like what they see!”

46. Do they make a good first impression? Does their first impression reflect them accurately? How do they introduce themselves?

“I just try to be myself and be approachable.”

47. How do they act in a formal occasion? What do they think of black tie wear? Do they enjoy fancy parties and love to chit chat or loathe the whole event?

“I don’t mind dressing up every now and then. It makes you feel good. Pretty. But I usually can’t wait to kick off my heels and curl up in my pjs as soon as we get home!”

48. Do they enjoy any parties? If so what kind? Do they organise the party or just turn up? How do they act? What if they didn’t want to go but were dragged along by a friend?

“I like having friends over, but I’ve never really been a party-er”

49. What is their most valued object? Are they sentimental? Is there something they have to take everywhere with them?

“A shirt of my mom’s and my dad’s watch. They’re both in my closet, in a safe.”

50. If they could only take one bag of stuff somewhere with them: what would they pack? What do they consider their essentials?

“Clothing for daytime and sleeping, shoes, sunglasses, chargers, first aid kit. And a book. And a sippy cup!”

#Faye Ross #Anonymous #Fayeman

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whats-my-question · 7 years

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You’re Not a Freak - Part 1

Summary: Fitting in the normal world with your powers has never been easy but when Happy calls asking where (y/n) and Peter are because of an incident, will your freak life fall apart?

Word count: 1,728

Pairings: peter parker x reader

Warnings: cursing, mentions of being abandoned, angst, a touch of fluff

A/N: this is my first fanfiction and I'm glad it’s about peter. Let me know what you guys think! I’d love the feedback! I’m gonna make this a series so yeah hope you guys enjoy it :)

“What book are you reading now?” A tall girl with pulled back curly hair showing a forever changing streak of color sarcastically said while walking to your locker

“Hello to you to MJ.” You say letting out a chuckle as you close the book and start walking with her, “ Also its Z: a novel of Zelda Fitzgerald.”

“Of course it is! Why am I not surprised by that?”

“Oh shut up!” Both of you break out laughing, entering the loud and bustling cafeteria, you two walk to the food line then to the table, never breaking conversation about the book.

“Hey MJ! Hey (y/n)!” A dorky boy with a haircut that made you think of the 90s said smiling and waving while sitting next to who you knew to be his best friend. His friend looked up from his notebook making eye contact with you then gave a faint smile making your heart melt. Peter Parker was a die hard geek who wasn’t like all the others at Midtown. Besides the fact he's Queens’ very own Spider-Man, he’s so god damn attractive. Over the past few years you two have gotten close thanks to Tony taking him under his wing and all but feelings started to bloom for the brown eyed boy.

“‘Sup Ned? And fuck you Peter.” MJ sarcastically says letting out an evil laugh. You nudge her arm giving her a look, “What? Peter knows I’m joking!”

“Uhhh... D-Do I though?” Peter genuinely asking

“See, I told you...” Sticking my tongue out at her then glancing over at Peter who smiled graciously. “You might be friends but…” before you could finish, your phone started to ring and normally you’d leave it but when you saw Happy’s name, you knew it was important. “Umm... I gotta take this. I’ll be right back so don’t eat my tots.” Giving an all knowing look towards MJ’s direction while slipping far enough away where no one could hear you.

“Hey listen, are you at school? You haven’t ditched or anything right? Have you seen Peter? Is Peter at school too? And I don’t mean ‘yeah I saw him this morning but haven’t since’, I mean like you can see him right now or you have seen him in like... the past 10 minutes?” Happy questioned quickly, which surprised you.

“Happy, please calm down. Breath in and out. You know ever since Tony made you Peter’s babysitter a few years back, you’ve been more uptight?” you giggle before continuing, “Anyway… Yes I’m at school and so is Peter; we have lunch right now and before you called he was sitting in front of me. Is everything okay? Is everyone…” your breath started to become shallow thinking something had happened to Tony or Wanda or to any of them. As your thoughts lingered while your mind lead you to a point where you’re sure your heart stopped.

What if Steve... had… died.

You don’t know how or when you figured it out but you could control animals. Hell you can even communicate with them. You were like a Disney princess, a heavily fucked up one but that was still pretty dope to you. Once your powers came into play, it was at home then daycare then at school, there was always some kind of incident happening. You don’t remember when your biological parents left exactly but all you knew was they abandoned you. That’s something you still can’t could wrap your head around after all these years, how could they just dump a child in the middle of nowhere. Well, you knew why, you were a freak. You are a freak. But After some time of forging on your own, you were spotted and rescued by none other than Captain America Steve Rogers himself. He took care of you and gave you an unconventional yet stable home and family. Even though he couldn’t legally adopt you, that’s how your relationship felt. He was your father and you were his daughter; he has cared more about you than your real parents ever did.

With Steve came a bunch of great people you got the privilege of calling honorary aunts and uncles. Your life was finally coming together. But with pieces falling into place problems are bound to come up, ones you never realized were problems. The most important one, made itself known some time after you moved into Avengers Tower. Every night for the first year you were haunted by the memories. The memories of how much your parents loved you before they found out, memories of the accidents and injuries you never meant to cause, and most importantly the memories of being alone. They tore at you, making you bitter; not only did Steve notice but everyone else did too. What really effected you is that the Tony Stark, 'Mr. I only care about myself’, so you thought, noticed and helped you. They all did because they all felt bitterness towards something. Wanda had what happened to Pietro and the experiments they did on them. Steve had what happened to Bucky and not being able to live a life with Peggy. Tony with his relationship with his father and how he felt towards Bucky, even though he knows it wasn’t his fault. The list could go on and on. Everyday you remember what Tony told you, ‘Everyone has something that makes them resentful but the way it’s dealt with is what can make or break you.’ He also made you feel better by adding “And just because you're different doesn't make you a freak.”

After a few years of training, a few animal bites and a few broken bones, you finally learned how to regulate your powers for when you truly needed them. Okay, okay sometimes you’d use them when you were bored or lonely. Since you’ve had a hard time making friends, animals were always there for you. At first Tony was a hard ass with implementing the ‘no animals inside’ rule, which you broke the first day you moved in. Now a days its the ‘they make a mess, you clean it up’ rule, which you agree with and follow.

“(y/n)?” Happy questioned breaking you from your thoughts

“Yeah.”

“Did you hear what I said?”

“No, yeah, I did.” you lied hoping he’d say it again

“You need to stop hanging with Tony in his lab. You’re starting to lie just as much as he does.” He trails off making you laugh a little. “I need you and Peter to stick together and not lose sight of one another for the rest of the day. Then after school go wait in the library until I call you to pick you up, okay?”

“Got it… Anyway, you know I wasn’t listening to a word you said before so…will you ease my mind, is everyone okay?” the lump in your throat growing again.

“Yes, everyone is okay (y/n). Please don’t worry too much okay?”

“Yeah… I’ll try not too…”

The two of you said your goodbyes and you walked back to the table. Letting a little huff escape from your mouth as you sat down. Peter intently watching your every move but you hadn’t noticed as you were deep into thought. The uneasy feeling that was starting to fester its way into your body is something that you’ve never been able to shake no matter how hard you try and no matter how many missions have past. Happy said not to worry, everyone is okay; you have to believe that, he wouldn’t lie to you. He wouldn’t, right?

“Hey (y/n), is everything okay?” Peter could sense how tense you were and he, well anyone, could probably see it

“Oh… Um…Yeah…” obviously lying, “Well… Uhh… Hey do you wanna walk to our lockers together?” (y/n) barely getting the question out before making eye contact with Peter. She could see Ned out of the corner of her eye smirking and suddenly felt her face get heated as she started to squirm in her seat.

“I-I wou…” He started saying but got cut off

“We always do, so why are you askin’?” MJ turning her head looking at you quizzically

“Uh… Actually…” (y/n) began to reply before Ned spoke up

“Why don’t you and I walk together today? I mean we do have the same class right after lunch.” Looking at MJ waiting for a reply right when she was about to answer the bell rings

“Come on Ned, let’s go!” MJ laughs grabbing his arm while waving bye

You and Peter get up to throw away your trash and start heading to the lockers. Wondering how to bring up what Happy said without freaking Peter out or slipping into a panic attack yourself. All you know it has to be tactical since Peter will just bombard Happy with a thousand calls and texts; which is the last thing he needs right now.

“What’s going on (y/n)? Who was that on the phone?” Peter nervously touches your upper arm trying to get you to relax but his action does the complete opposite

By that touch alone made you forget every word that was going to come out. After a couple of seconds went by you were able to muster out what Happy told you.

“It was Happy… He asked if we were at school and haven’t left. Said he wants us to stay close to each other… Also after school, we are to go to the library and wait to get a text that he’s here to pick us up.” Tears starting to swell in your eyes, “Happy reassured that everyone is okay and not to worry but… Peter…” As soon as his name left your lips, he had engulfed you in a hug as the tears streamed down your face. Usually you’re not one to break down in public but knowing you both had study hall next made it easier to slip into Peter’s hug. Thankfully the halls were pretty empty from kids shuffling to their classes to take notice. You finally pulled away from the hug, wiped the tears from your cheeks, and started the walk to Ms. Warren’s room. All the while Peter had his arm around your shoulder. More things were falling into place and you hope it stays.

#peterparkerimagines #peterparkerfanfiction #peter parker x reader #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman imagines #spiderman homecoming fanficition #marvel imagines #marvel fanfiction #peter parker #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker imagines #tom holland #itshollandtomholland #yourenotafreak

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femivita · 4 years

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Mapping baby’s day!

Some parents hold baby to a strict schedule. Others ignore the clock and accompany the flow. How will you lay out your routine?

Many turns of the clock ago, I used to be a young, first-time mother of the foremost easygoing baby on the earth. I took my daughter to restaurants, movies, trips overseas;

she ate when she was hungry and slept when she was tired, whether we were reception or away. Past eight weeks aged, she slept soundly when it had been dark, and she or he woke with a smile when the sun shone through her window. When someone asked me what time my baby went down for a nap, I didn’t have a solid answer.

Based on my very own parenting experience, I had little compassion when baby and that I met up with a university friend who also had her first baby in tow. We had done some shopping and were beginning to mention where to travel for lunch when, suddenly, she checked out her watch and nearly bolted for the door. it had been almost time for her baby to require his nap—if he didn’t, the remainder of the day would be ruined! I didn’t object, but I even have to confess to thinking, can’t baby sleep in his stroller while you keep it up together with your day?

Ten years later, I check out our firstborn children and see some key differences. My girl remains sweet and mellow, but she’s rather sluggish when it’s time to go away for college within the morning, and her showers last well into the double digits. My friend’s son is very energetic, athletic, and always in a hurry. I even have to admit, my friend is far more organized and efficient than I am! While we each have four kids now, her house looks pretty on the brink of perfect in the least times. My house looks … well, it's like four kids sleep in it.

So who had the “better” system? Each folk had a life-style that fit our personalities and our babies’ temperaments. We were comfortable and our babies were happy. Both babies are beautiful, brilliant middle-schoolers now—each wonderful in their way. Did the schedules we set (or didn’t set) for our babies determine the type of massive kids they might grow into? To some extent, yes, probably. Scheduling is one slice of the nature-vs.-nurture pie. But as far as each folk made time for the important things and let our youngsters know they were loved, we were both on the proper track.

So the question is, should your baby get on a schedule? If so, how rigid should that schedule be? and the way should it's determined? Before these questions are often answered, take a glance at your life and yourself. Then you'll conjure a sensible vision of what a successful day seems like for your family.

What are some time constraints? It’s one thing to mention, “I’m getting to let baby determine her day—sleep when she’s tired, eat when she’s hungry.” But that’s not a sensible approach for a working mama or a family with multiple children who got to be driven certain places at certain times. once I had my first baby, I started to figure from home as an intern for P&N. I had nothing but flexibility, so the baby’s schedule could vary from day to day. When the baby was tired, I might put her down for her nap, pull out my laptop, and obtain some work done. After she woke, I might feed her whenever she acted hungrily, take her for walks when the weather was nice, play together with her, and skim her books at any time of day. She naturally slept well in the dark, regardless of what time I put her down, and she or he was liberal to sleep in if she wanted to.

When my first was a touch older, though still a baby, I started to figure for P&N full-time, commuting from the Atlanta suburbs to an office closer to the town center. Every working day, my daughter suddenly had time to rise and an area to be. She became familiar with spending set hours at a babysitter’s house while I used to be at work. Mealtimes and sleep time became more structured because they had to. Still, she rolled with it pretty much.

Today, I still have a baby. He looks remarkably like that first baby (especially once you stick a bow in his hair). But poor baby No. 4 doesn’t have tons of say in his schedule. Every morning, he's up and dressed and fed breakfast in time to require the large kids to high school, then straight to the gym for mama’s fitness fix, then immediately home for his nap. He generally gets to make a decision when he will awaken from his nap (sometimes, though, he doesn’t get that luxury). Then it’s time to eat, run errands, and head back to high school to select up the youngsters. Afternoons and evenings are dominated by the large kids’ activities, counting on the season, then dinner and bed.

In summary, I’ve experienced the slow lifetime of the first-time mom, the ordered lifetime of the working mom, and therefore the chaotic lifetime of a mom of 4. All are pretty great and are available with unique challenges. As you think about a timetable for your baby, take a glance at the parameters that govern your household. What time does the baby get to be up? Can she set her schedule, or will outside demands necessitate a wake-up call? Does the baby have unrestricted napping opportunities, or are there certain times that employment best for the remainder of the family?

What does a baby need? A newborn needs about 16 hours of sleep in every 24-hour day, but her nap times are rather unpredictable. At three months, a baby still needs 13-15 hours of sleep every day, including naps that are getting longer and more regular. Since three months is additionally the benchmark when many mamas end maternity leave and return to figure, it’s an honest time to plan out a schedule that will work for you and for baby within the months to return.

Getting into a routine together with your tot starts with observing her innate patterns. Polly Moore, Ph.D., author of The Natural Baby Sleep Solution, recommends putting baby down for naps at regular intervals supported a biological rhythm called the essential rest and activity cycle, or the BRAC. The BRAC is species-specific: for humans, it’s a 90-minute cycle. Moore found that babies consistently exhibit sleep behavior in tune with the BRAC, growing tired 90 minutes after they last awakened. “After 90 minutes of wakefulness, the baby has completed the alert phase governed by his inner clock,” says Moore. “This is when the baby has the simplest chance of falling asleep quickly and simply.

Moore’s BRAC-based program works wonderfully if you've got a schedule that allows it, or if your child attends a daycare that’s hospitable that sort of personalization. Following baby’s natural BRAC may be a way of letting her establish a schedule that you simply can work with, instead of the opposite way around. “This isn't a program of putting the baby ‘on a schedule,’” Moore emphasizes. “Rather, the approach is to find out to follow your baby’s inner schedule, your baby’s own internal sleep, and wake rhythms.”

If your day-to-day is more rigid, or if your daycare has specific nap times they need to adhere to, you'll find more success in setting baby’s schedule for her. Teressa DeDominicis, mother to Amelia in Fredericksburg, Virginia, knew her family would operate more smoothly with the baby on a daily schedule, particularly when DeDominicis returned to figure after six weeks of maternity leave. “I talked to my daycare provider about their infant room schedule,” says DeDominicis, “so I could make the transition as seamless as possible, which worked rather well .” counting on the requirements of the family, a workable schedule could also be set by the oldsters, the daycare or the baby herself, then shared with the opposite members of your baby care squad.

What works for you as a mother? “I kept all of my babies on schedules,” says Kasey Tross, a mother of 4 in Chesterfield, Virginia. “The better part about it had been knowing what they needed once they cried. supported where we were in our schedule, I knew if they were hungry, tired, or had an upset tummy.”

I feel most confident as a mother once I understand why the baby is crying so that I'm ready to meet his needs. Even once I completely ignore the clock, I stick with a pattern of wake-eat-play-sleep during the day, and wake-eat-sleep in the dark (until the wake-eat part shrinks and disappears, leaving only wonderful sleep!). Adhering to the pattern lets me know that if my son is fussing, albeit he’s eaten recently, it’s because he now must sleep. regardless of the length of every nap, the baby will expect to eat right when he wakes up.

Following a schedule—or a minimum of a pattern—can help both parents (along with other regular or occasional caregivers) know what to expect. DeDominicis says of her baby’s schedule, “It helps manage expectations together with your spouse about what's needed when.” If the baby always goes down for a nap at 10 a.m., then there’s no need for debate when he seems irritated at 9:55 a.m.

Schedule-keeper Laurel Osai, the mother to Ephraim in North Salt Lake, Utah, says, “Some people feel that a schedule could be binding; however, I find it freeing as I can plan my day accordingly.” Osai makes an honest point: Guessing at baby’s needs is often frustrating and ineffective. Plus, consistent with Moore, if you would like the baby to urge the quantity of sleep she needs, you ought to put her down for intentional naps that coordinate together with her BRAC. Unplanned naps that are available short bursts, within the car or stroller, don’t give baby the nourishing, deep sleep she requires.

Lindsey Bell, a mother of 4 in Holly Springs, North Carolina, says, “I let my first two picks their schedules and planned everything around that. It worked great, and that they were excellent sleepers! The downside was they were less adaptable to days that didn't accommodate their schedules.”

In contrast, Jennifer Anderson, a mother of six (!) in Castle Rock, Colorado, can’t let baby determine her schedule because the stress of the family has them constantly on the go. However, Anderson shares that mom and baby are both proud of the arrangement. She says of her daughter, “She is simply as happy and content because the first ones who were on a schedule.”

Alaina Percival, a mother to Edwin in San Francisco, California, frequently travels long distances together with her young son. While she doesn’t hold him to any kind of schedule, she shares that he typically takes three naps each day, sleeping reception or away, slowly adjusting to the zone he finds himself in.

Families have found success with many various strategies for time management. With the baby’s needs at the forefront, pick an approach that matches your personality and works for your household. Be consistent, but be willing to bend occasionally, too. Even the foremost stringent schedule must allow some flexibility for fun!

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